If you look up, cloudy weather that whispers the sun, if you look down, there are bodies that fill the wilderness.
If the first thing was instant death, it would have passed without suffering. Some were still breathing hard.
An arrow is stabbed in the throat, organs are popping out of the slashed belly, limbs are missing, there is no point in saying the symptoms, they are all fatal wounds, and death in a moment is inevitable.
"Why do humans fight?... Why am I asking?
One man muttered as he walked through the gap between the body and the body.
He is a rough eyed man with accustomed dark hair together.
The presence of wasteless muscle-developed flesh is felt in the emergence wearing its black high neck without slack. Also synonymous with this man, he holds two long swords in both hands, which makes the beholder feel an incomprehensible awesomeness.
Gadinoa-Lumiops, that was the name of the man.
Until earlier, there was a massive battle going on here. With 10,000 Imperial troops versus 30,000 Confederate troops, there is actually a triple force difference, but with little loss, the Empire wins big.
Someone claims that the Commander's superiority and inferiority are the winning factors, but still inside everyone thinks of this as a winning factor.
- The presence of a knight named Him, manipulating a two-wielded long sword, is everything.
"We can't share one thing. The weak rely on the strong to borrow their authority. The strong protect the weak and immerse themselves in a sense of superiority. There can be no such thing as gratuitous relief. There will be benevolence. To be free from all sorts of marks, there is no other way but to die and leave the world... no, not necessarily."
Underneath the corpse, find the dying young man and stop his leg.
It seemed like a mid-teenager from the looks of it. If a capable soldier follows a trend that does not like protective equipment, he or she can be judged to be a general soldier with or without armor.
Stone pieces stabbed in both eyes, missing tips from their left shoulder, and I don't see anything like it nearby when I look around.
"Wow... Meir... li, i... it's dark in here. I want to go home... I want to go home."
He reaches out his shallow, black stained right hand with internal bleeding and tries to touch something in the void. He seems to see it, even if it's taking away the light.
Hearing that disappearing groan was easy to spot.
"... go home."
Gadinoa snaps the young man's neck.
"If it is incompatible, I will eradicate it. If there is a Pacific world ahead, I shall bear it."
Spilling like talking, just one secret appeared.
She is a woman with a large mole on one face, who cut her silver hair short.
The body in a herd blue covert outfit is feminine and undulating, and colour can be felt without exposure from the neck to the bottom. Now, it feels like it combines strength that can't be just a secret.
Gadinoa called her "Bergamot" when she got to one knee by her side and showed her loyalty.
"Dear Gadinoa, the enemy's main unit has begun to lose"
"That was faster than I thought.... Build a fort on the Empuzz State side around the use of soil elementation. Potential mutilators may be slaughtered if they resist. Don't loot from the local people, there's got to be enough supplies... find them and finish them off. I don't need people like that in my crew."
"In your favor. Don't get too upset about it."
"... gender. Don't worry."
Darken your expression to the nasty, and Bergamot will look somewhere.
From the time I was getting reports from her, Gadinoa had been looking back at the cloudy weather that was going to rain. After a while I dropped my gaze and walked out worried about my feet again.
Flirting, Flirting......
Since the adoption of the Smithi family, the fourth spring has just come to pass.
Alan, not knowing his date of birth, counted fourteen ages for now for convenience. I think I'm getting close to my age, matching Vern's date of birth.
So on her birthday, she and I have been celebrated by Zoldif - watching the fun of that parent and child, he was determined and feeling backward after he felt his chest warm.
Repeating that four times before, I didn't know why it would happen.
It's not uncomfortable to celebrate someone, to be celebrated by someone. But when I ask myself if I can do it or if I can be done, I just can't stop feeling it.
Maybe I shouldn't be here, which makes me feel kind of strong.
"I don't know why. Is that what happens to you, too?
Alan, concerned about what was in his chest, had asked Vern that,
"... I'm sure it's your fault, you don't have to worry"
They were only returning such a word.
Sometimes, we also saw a change in the appearance of the two of us with each passing month.
From his face, he fades young and his body, above the average of his back length, is in the ideal shape to be envied in his same age. Fourteen, from now on, he will be treated as an adult step ahead of him at his age.
Even if those two appearances were accompanied by the word beautiful man and beautiful woman, there would be no worse color.
Alan, just completely unconscious about his appearance, is stunned by Vern because of his lack of awareness of his beauty. This was a shady thing, not a big one.
It's unlikely to happen, but I was worried that I might notice my witchcraft and hang out with the neighborhood ladies.
"... Vern. How come you always have different hairstyles?
It's still an impossible story because he's a man who says it face to face, etc.
From the time he was twelve, Alan had gone to work as far as Vern and the city.
Sufficient livelihoods are made from the blacksmiths of Zoldif. Still, I don't have any trouble getting more income.
Plus, getting older without knowing the world in the suburbs is going to make your life bigger if it stops standing. So a little early, but he was once placed in a position commensurate with his reliance.
Then two years later, Alan has been organizing and other chores at the National Library warehouse.
At that time, improvements in print technology were at their peak, and books were inexpensive and massive to the public.
In addition, there was no alternative to the collapse of the value of the reproduction products, and as can be seen, the number of businesses, trading companies, etc. that dealt with books was also beginning to increase.
Among them, it was the library of ancient stocks that was heavily influenced. To the decline of users, to the increase in the number of books to be stored, and to the reduction of state contributions, management will only be in a state of finally maintaining facilities in the fire truck.
Eventually, if they couldn't afford the labor, the staff left with all their love.
Alan was a very convenient worker for such a library.
Because I am still a pre-adult child for once, its labor costs go up cheaper than the regular price. Above all, I don't burn my hands because I work silently following instructions. If you let him stand at the reception, the beauty will come to you.
When the work is done, I look through the books extensively, but this was greatly seen in terms of the future.
It was about one evening.
"Good evening. Where is Alan?
"Oh, it's you. Thank you for your hard work. Alan would be organizing in the library."
In this time of year, Vern comes to the library.
She's cooking in the kitchen of a nearby restaurant, always picking her up after work. I was worried about Zoldif on the road, trying not to go home alone.
This has been the case for the last two years, and since it is also remembered by library staff, her admission was only allowed to show her face.
Greet the receptionist barely with one greeting, proceed through the barely popular hall and ask the staff inside for Alan's whereabouts. They are often taught by officials just because they can be described as habits.
As the official said, Alan was in the library.
"Alan, you're there, aren't you? Let's go home together."
A mountain of books stacked so much that the majority of the walls hide, filling a large room that it is quiet back, hiding the gray hair that is characteristic of it in between.
When Vern found him, he wasn't organizing his library or anything, and he sat back on the steps of his stepladder and read through an old book.
"... a little more. Because we're almost done organizing."
"Finish reading, isn't that a mistake?
'Cause I'm done with what I was planning to do.
Vern walks over concerned about the foot trail.
Alan answered cleverly as he glanced through the typeface.
"Oh yeah?... What are you reading today?
"Inferences are written about the origins of photons"
"You picked something that seems difficult again. What does it say?
"Photon's old name had something called 'Divine Dragon Light'... Divine Dragon Light because it was given to him by the Decaying Dragon Clan. You think I only had one thing that was called that, and it was silver? According to the author, although modern blue and white photons are also Divine Dragon Light, they are all confusing if they stick together"
"Blue and white color...... I knew it, did I?
"Elementarization is a rarity. Turns into fire or water or something. That seems to be metal in Vern's case."
"Isn't that unusual? Speaking of which, when my father told me not to tell anyone."
"... that might be good"
"Oh, why?
"We're going to have to go to war"
Vern's eyes only slightly rounded. Because those words spilled out of Alan's mouth in some worrying tone, it was the first time I heard them.
"... don't you want me to go?
The words were unconscious and Alan could not answer well. Stop the fingertips that were peering through the typeface without precipitation and think quietly. But I can't find the right words for the feelings I'm feeling.
"I'm done organizing, let's go home"
Alan, who gave up and closed the book, said with no expression, as usual.
It will be before I get home that day.
"I have to buy dinner ingredients and go home. Help me hold it."
Alan was asked by Vern to go shopping with him.
She chooses the ingredients for dinner, and he even packs. She had a habit of buying in large quantities at a time, doing all of her chores. I have to carry a significant amount of luggage with me for a long time.
Until now, Zoldif had relied on her writing to go back and forth by herself. Since that was the age at which the two of us could get out of the city, the role had changed that way.
"Okay...... today?
"Actually, I haven't decided yet. You want something to eat or something?
Alan held hands with Vern as he walked down a crowded boulevard with people who couldn't afford his gait.
It was something we both started with her suggestion when we walked in the city because it was tough to get out of the way. It was also these days, without being told anything, that he had come to take nature and her little hand.
If I'm not aware of my changes the most, I won't even notice that she's happy.
"I like bird food"
"Yes. Well... shall we?"
On that path, as usual, the dedication is discussed and decided - the exchange ends when "what's good" is asked and "what's good" is answered and "then let's do it".
The dish that I want to feed is the dish that someone wants me to eat, and I guess it's inevitable because that person also answers honestly.
"Alan. How long do you remember?
Vern asks the stick from Yabu.
"About what?
"When I was little. I don't remember that many, and the other kids were just a little concerned about you. Whatever. Just tell me."
"... I was walking along a tree-lined path with thin red flowers, pulled by someone. On a warm leaking day, in an unrestrained foothold, so... maybe before I came to this country."
"Isn't that the eastern country?
"You know what?
Alan took an interest in Vern's words.
"I don't know much about it either, but I hear there's a thin red flowering tree. Maybe Alan's from the East, huh? Was it your hometown?
"... Hometown. If it really is, I'd like to go."
"I do, I'm sure."
"I just said I don't know the details"
"When I say I do, I do."
I had a conversation I didn't love, and it was when I was distracted.
of two men who had been walking for a long time, one of them and Alan had a shoulder bump.
I can almost be attributed to "be careful, fuck you," but Vern pulls me over to apologize for "I'm sorry," right away, to get nothing.
Nevertheless, even if it was actually a fight, he shouldn't have lost.
Having dealt with so many outlaws so far, he had awakened as an unconscious but capable man. Even if he doesn't know how to use his powers, he is able to demonstrate athletic abilities that deviate from ordinary people.
as of the time I was ten. That's why I don't even have to think about what it's like now that my body has grown.
Even if they fought as much as they wanted, it was a trouble for her to try.
Back home in the suburbs, it will be some time later.
"Alan was skipping and reading books today. Also, go out of your way to pick a book that might be difficult. One day I'll be stubborn enough to use all the hard words."
"No, after I finish my job,... Really?
At a table in the living room of her mother's house, Alan was surrounding her parents and children for dinner.
Talk about what happened that day and bring Vern's cooked bird dishes to his mouth. There are basically two oligarchy people, so it won't be as noisy as it sounds. The word "gang" is worthy there.
"... Actually, I have something to tell you both"
Let his voice take seriousness, and Zoldif cut it out that way.
He apprenticed Vern, who rested his hands on the assumption that he should listen, and Alan behaved similarly.
"Actually, the neighboring country was in the hands of the Empire. They're invading this country next. Yes, the merchant was talking. So I'm thinking about leaving this country soon. The city wouldn't have been too busy today, would it? The ears start packing with me first."
"Will war begin in this country?
"In another couple of months, we'll be completely occupying our neighbors, and the Empire will begin its next invasion. I'm just saying we've never gotten away with this before."
"I liked my life here..."
Alan had something to feel when he looked sideways at Vern, who lay his eyes down with an unfortunate face.
I woke up in a place with a roof, and there was always someone nearby, and I had a peaceful time not threatened by someone - it felt like her words were in me again.
"... well. You liked it."
With a voice he could only hear himself, he shrugged.
Another week or so later, it was about one evening.
At the library where he headed to pick up Alan, Vern saw the sight.
I greeted the receptionist at the entrance, as usual, and faced him as he advanced into the back. Alan, who organizes paperwork on the management desk, talks to a stranger.
Originally, only a woman is intimate, and his answer is monotonous.
The woman's appearance can be described as brilliant. Do you have understanding and confidence in your appearance, every trick is adorable. Just from the gaze of the same sex, the woman felt a hint of a verse like the one she had made for her male counterpart.
I don't think I'd be confused only by him, but it was still not funny to watch.
"... you don't like it"
Turning back on his heels without speaking, Vern went home alone. In the meantime, the back of my chest was long gone. Together, it was a little confusing.
I know the reason for the discomfort is merely yakuza, but I didn't know when the hell I had become someone who felt that way.
- Let's go home together.... Oh, who is this guy?
Until a while ago, you could have said that and broken in with a face that didn't eat anything.
Only Alan didn't have it - and I couldn't say it with certainty until then. I felt like I was in the closest place at a distance that no one could get in to scratch.
"I, how long have I been like that..."
In thinking about that and this, Vern went to his home.
The sky, which had just sunset, was dark and had poor vision. That too, and she realized something was wrong with her home was delayed until she brought that motherhouse closer together.
"Huh... what is this?
Knock through a doorway with marks like a kick in the ass. If you let yourself inside a fearful house, you will be greeted in a vandalized indoor from what to what, from household tools to daily necessities.
I can even feel the impression that the theft of hardware was broken into for a purpose other than to just vandalize it, in such a scattering way.
In these circumstances, it was inexplicable that Zoldif could not be found anywhere.
"Dad... are you there? Where are you?
Unable to find it in the mother house, Vern headed to check on the workshop.
If I gazed out of the shade a little further away, I could see the light leaking out of the gap in the lower window of the book. There must be someone there, but I still couldn't figure it out.
When she made up her mind, she quietly leaned over to the side of the workshop and peered inside through the window gap.
"... hehe, little lady. Does it bother you inside?
By the time I felt signs behind my back, it was too late.
Someone grabs my arm in the back of my hand from a stranger. Let your arm say something to deprive you of your freedom.
"No, what, let go..."
It bursts, but I don't feel like I'm going to shake it off. Forced to walk, Vern was brought inside the workshop. So for the first time, I can see under what circumstances.
The scratchy Zoldif rolls in the back. There were five men around who seemed to have bad behavior, and they took his place. He kicked it in the funny half, beat it up, and filled his self-esteem with violence.
There is no other question as to who the murderer who vandalized the motherhouse is, if you have seen this.
"Huh... Vern... damn..."
"Dad! What do you guys say!?
It was unbearable to be able to show you that while you were deprived of your freedom.
Vern yelled and scattered from the bottom of his belly,
"Am I hungry? You know what?
I get slapped on the cheek back and forth by one of the guys in a kidding condition. They eagle their cheeks and force their faces back. If they wield so much violence, terror prevails over courage and they push silence.
"... what is it? I'm worried, more like revenge. You know what revenge is? The grey-haired kid with you is killing my brother so much, I finally found him... I can't believe that hateful little shit grew up in a place like this! You're annoying me!
Wern's cheeks violently rocked and the man breathed like crazy.
"But chest shit is bad. Every day is until today. I can't believe that fucking kid had feelings for people. You're a hostage. Hit and follow to seal that Mogi Talent, hey, what do you say!? Ha ha!
"No, don't..."
He grabs his hair from his roots and presses him with a shady grin.
"Stop... Stop..."
Zoldif shook his voice desperately.
That's the guy with the seizure, tongue-beating him and turning back on the spearhead of frustration.
"Parents and children... well, we don't need two hostages"
A man looking indoors from the thought of it eventually caught his eye on it. It was Wern's forged dagger, which Zoldif couldn't get rid of since that day.
In the corner of the shelf lined with steel chunks of material, he takes it, which was placed to decorate, and the man makes the ordinance in wonder.
"... what the hell? It's a little rougher than the rest, isn't it?
It is clearly of inferior quality compared to other swords in the workshop, but it is kept undisposited. The daughter gave a terribly frightened voice saying, "No, that, no" - that made the man realize.
"Huh? What? Could it be yours?
Asked by a man who laughed joyfully.
If Vern can't deny it from the upset, he put it on his face for the quote.
"I've made up my mind, I'll make it this one.... Hey, wake up that worn rag"
"Ah... no, I don't..."
"Look, look, I'm gonna stab you, your made mon stabbed my dad...... look, look"
The man who used his companion to set up the debilitated Zoldif is repeated with a bare gesture that still sticks a dagger to his chest. Vern, disgusted by being shown off, was amused by the man for his reaction.
- Do you know what you made?
She finally understands the meaning of the word.
"Yes, bush! Bush, bush, bush, bush, bush, bush, bush, bush, bush!
A man rarely stabs Zoldif. And he stabbed his breasts, and his flanks, and his neck, and went on and on, and on, and on, and on, and on. I can't stop overflowing with a lot of blood from my stabbed body.
Wern watched in an outrageous manner.
It was then that someone opened the door to the workshop and showed up.
It was Alan.
His face, which saw what was going on indoors, turned into something full of anger. "I'm going to kill you" was pronounced in a cold voice, driven by feelings that no one once remembered.
The men who touched his tremendous life energy make themselves shy of instinctive fright.
"Hey, I can't see this guy..."
But it didn't even have to be Alan stepping out.
At that moment, Vern's mind was dominated by a blackish intent to kill. It was with that in mind that her hidden power began to rampage, relying on that emotion as if she had cut a weir.
A blue and white light wrapped around her whole body is wielded by degeneration into a sharp metal tentacle.
First the man who was catching her is torn into eight pieces, then the men who were surrounding Zoldif are cut in two, and finally the man who had the dagger is chopped up so much that he can't keep the prototype of his body.
Obsessively destroy, over and over again, a body that can't be called an already breathless body so that I'm still sorry. Continuing until the body was tired, the metal tentacles finally fell away from her body.
I can no longer only hear two breaths or dripping blood splashed on the ceiling in the quiet indoors.
"... ahhh..."
Wern, who returned to me, collapsed from his knee in the blood buildup at his feet.
I dye my whole body red, surrounded by pieces of flesh that were human until a few seconds ago, and I'm stunned.
"... Vern, are you okay?
I could reach out to Alan walking over, but I paid for it reflexively without that mind either. I realized how late I behaved, but I didn't have enough energy to correct it.
A glimpse of him glimpsing, Vern drips powerless.
"... sorry, do"
It will be the evening of the next day.
Zoldif's funeral was held at the merchant's initiative while being struck by cold rain.
The proximity of the war in the Empoos country also affected only enough participants to count. When the funeral was over, they went home with a troublesome smelly face.
All that remained in front of the grave until the end were his beloved daughter, Vern, and his adopted son, Alan, and three close merchants. Sounds good if you say you cared about the survivors, but some people are in bad shape, so that's not it.
"... I lost a spare man."
A merchant spared the death of Zoldif, looking at the name engraved on the grave marker at his fingertips.
Alan watched as Vern stood one step closer to him.
"If life has become painful, you can count on me, okay?
I did not reply to Vern as I leaned down and drank the words as the merchant had now given up.
"... See you later"
A merchant left the cemetery, leaving behind a word of exchange.
Alan, who was dropping him off, put his gaze back on Vern if he couldn't see that back.
I stare at her, terribly sad back, with her mouth shut all the time since then and compassion. I am conscious of how this happened and who the hell is causing all this without having to think about it.
From the beginning, when she confessed in the alley, I had a feeling this would happen, and I forgot.
So once now, I couldn't help but ask.
"You regret it?
It was too insensitive a word, not worthy of it now. Vern's reply to this is heard secluded by the sound of rain after all the silence that lasts for a few minutes.
"... from before me, gone"
Alan felt a strong sense of resistance in responding.
But I should respond, but I felt the same way.
"... ok"
Step by step and take rainwater and walk away from Zoldif's grave.
We should have severed the relationship sooner.
That way Zoldif would not have lost his life, Wern would not have lived in grief, nor would he have suffered himself - where he was walking with regret as his chest, Alan heard the footsteps rushing behind him.
If you can look back at something, Vern just subsides in his nostalgia.
If he didn't resist, he lost momentum and was pushed down by a rainy water hoard as it was.
"Liar, stop it. Don't be alone..."
I bury my face and I get stuck. I am sued with a weak, trembling voice. Alan was lost in the middle of nowhere. My hands seemed bloody and I was worried that it would be good to touch her.
"... hug me"
Long after being hit by the rain as it is, the slightly calm Vern spills.
"Somehow my hands look stained with colors you don't like"
"Still fine."
It will be some time after sunset.
Back at home, the two wiped their bodies with hot water and hand plush before twirling into the same sleeping blanket. Wet in the rain, he leaned over his cold cut body to warm it up.
If that made me lose my chill, my spirit would have calmed down.
"... I have regrets. But I'm sad when you're gone"
"I'm not going anywhere"
"You're our bad girl."
"I don't know what else to do."
"My father would have slapped me, wouldn't he? I know exactly what that means. I tried to make you some tool to kill someone in half the play. I wish I hadn't made that stuff."
"Isn't that a good way to use it?
"But in the end, it's meant to kill people."
Wern, cut off the words, takes Alan's hand and continues.
"If I hadn't died, how much longer would my father have lived? If they didn't die, how much longer would those men have lived? Five, ten, twenty, thirty years... there's nothing identical about it as one, you just spent that person's only time, right?... people die so easily"
"Hell, it was my fault"
"I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want you to hurt anybody anymore."
"I can't promise you when you're in danger."
"That's fine now. Take time for me to nurture your heart.... Hey, if you left this country, why don't we go to your hometown together? Because I'm sure there's more hope than going to another country."
"... ok. Together."