Ouroboros Record ~Circus of Oubeniel~

- Comrades, the time has come.

An underground room, illuminated unreliably by a swinging candle fire. The man said so in a gloomy voice that would not take a pull to the darkness of the indoors.

The man's expression is unusual. Dirty, stretched beard, cheeks that still couldn't be hidden. Slightly upward looking eyes ran blood and his gaze was perfectly fixed on a hollow point without matching anyone else.

It was an expression of extreme passion that was difficult to come close to the rest of us.

But there are a few shadows around him, sitting in a wooden chair, trying to surround him. On its face still emerges a sincere but impatient, inexperienced joy.

"Oh......!

"I couldn't wait, comrade Gaston......!

The shadows gathered unanimously expressed their agreement with the man's words. The condition is as pictorial as it was measured, and the calories in the tone and expression make you feel something cold and mechanically neat on the back.

Its group, which creates a floating away atmosphere and an exclusive atmosphere, was called an activist by the people of the Wang capital.

More suddenly than about two months ago, he appeared in Brossenne, criticizing politics, attacking institutions, abusing nobles and the wealthy, disobedient disturbers. Odd people who have been used to capture people more than once, but who don't change their deeds without punishment. Until this day, they have been so reputed.

"Finally..."

"Uhm."

The man tells his comrades, when he gives them one satisfying twinkle, he puts his breath down.

And I secretly spilled my thoughts. to the labor it took to celebrate this time today.

This man, Gaston Just, is not originally a Brosenne person. out of the countryside in the southern part of the kingdom and is originally a peasant.

Life in my hometown sucked. What he was cultivating was never a lean land. It is fertile, and from fruit trees and other specialties, it is seen from the rich lands and surroundings of this country. But that doesn't guarantee the well-being of the peasants.

Gaston lived in an extremely powerful area of rich farmers. The rich farmers were supposed to be representatives of the interests of the peasants, but gradually changed within a long period of compromise with the nobles and corruption in the redistribution of the village's wealth. Over the generations, he placed the surrounding houses under his umbrella as petty writers, and by using them he began to occupy a position to be said even with the semi-accompanies, who monopolize wealth. It was like the equivalent of a lord over the peasants, practically two reigns. No matter how rich the land is, if it holds more than twice what it is supposed to hold, there is no way that life can be made.

Of course he is also a smallholder. When I put my thoughts to Kouri, all I could think of was hard work and hunger.

A humiliation where slaves were forced to live the same life, just because they were born in an umbrella house under Tomino. My eyes dazzled at the delivery I get from the village faces, my disappointment with the lords who did not give any help to the poor farmers. Anger at the merchants who turn their crops into gold and become fat, taking their own suffering to the margins. And this country that allows it, hatred of the world - such was the driving force behind Gaston.

Boiling out of nowhere, pushed by a hatred so hot that he boils the blood all over his body, he opens his mouth as if to no avail.

"Let go of all comrades, who lay females in every part of this city.... Now is the time to decide and!

To the words, the indoor air trembled. Not for the upset. I was awakened by Gaston's voice because I shook myself into a hot urge.

Decisions.

Yes, it's a decision. What Gaston and his comrades will be discussing was an armed uprising in Brosenne, the king's capital.

He looks over at the faces of his companions in line. They were all rough faces in distress and exhaustion. There are people who burn in the day but have bad blood color and blue-black their skin. Extraordinary labor has been imposed, and wrinkles have been carved in the forehead on the eyeballs from before reaching the thirtieth road.

And they all lived the same hatred in their eyes. Anger at the nobles who abuse civilians and the traitors who are the same civilians but devour their interests by putting their compatriots under their knees.

"Whoa, whoa... Whoa!

"Comrade! Long live Comrade Gaston!

"Victory to the workers! Death to the exploiter!

In response to a cheering voice clinging to the basement, Gaston rises.

He was once just a peasant. He was nothing but a helpless, uneducated, above all apathetic, ordinary man everywhere.

But not now. Now he is the spokesperson of an angry people. Since he first stood in the Tsuji of the Wang capital two months ago and appointed himself an activist, he has always continued to preach the need for change. At first, he was laughed at as if he was crazy and chased with stone, but now he has won many comrades with his will and his words. And more so in the history of the kingdom… No, we should do a great deed like no other in the history of the continent.

Gaston hoisted his cheeks beneath his nymphomania and beard as he was dressed in exhilaration and omnipotence that fanned others in his own words, anticipation and intoxication of what was to happen.

"Come on, stand up, gentlemen! We must stand with anger! To reclaim the rights that the usurpers who call themselves aristocrats have wrongfully taken away! The merchants bought and beat like things, to get our fortune back!... don't stand up with me to fight!

"" OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

In response to the words of the mentor 'first activist', the activists rise.

Their eyes were shimmering.

The Dove River was glowing in a snug, bottomless color that reflected the sunset.

"Hey, look at that."

The first time I noticed the signs of the incident was a policeman patrolling the city.

The soldier speaks out to his colleagues walking next door with a bitter face of indescribable discomfort.

"Hmm? What is it?

"... I can't even say it well myself, is something wrong?

Say, show the city to and from with your chin.

The heart of Brossenne is still crowded after sunset. It is only the heart of the kingdom at any rate, and the population of the king's capital is the largest in the kingdom. The logic is that there will inevitably be more night-time outsiders for a large number of mothers themselves. Also in recent years, well-maintained city lights have lit up the road, sometimes causing citizens to drastically reduce the darkness that makes them hesitate to walk at night.

Even that day, with working-style men on the way home from work, the streets were full of shit.

"Nothing's wrong with that."

The coworker laughed with his nose as if he had clapped out.

The time is still at dinner. There is no wonder that hungry workers are eating meals or rolling out to the taverns at these cheap little restaurants. What we have here is a view of the King's Capital at night, which at first glance has been boring to see.

But the soldier was unconvinced.

Something is definitely wrong. Vaguely, this landscape feels like something is out of the ordinary.

… what I see is the anguish of the surrounding sights. Men on the way home from work. One person, apparently working at the construction site, was walking with a tsurhashi hanging on his shoulder. Some sailor-style people have the stick in their hands. I guess this works at the dock on the Amon River that flows through the King's Capital. Or selling firewood with mountains and loads of firewood to the bearer. Whether we were going to go sell firewood in a cooking area that lacked fuel, there was a sturdy, seemingly sturdy wax hanging on its hips. There are other blacksmith-style men who lowered their owns to their belts......

And I realize. to the identity of discomfort.

"Hey, man.... somehow, what"

A man, a man, a man in the eye.

Every one of them...

"Why don't we all look like some guy with something that's going to be a weapon?

- If you feel like it, you can kill a human with the tools you can carry.

The whispered colleague turned his eyes round this time.

"If you ask me..."

Weird for a sight to return to work. How can you bring the Tsuruhashi, which should be managed at the construction site, until it's time to go home? Didn't you leave the backing stick loading and unloading the loads at the dock at work? Why do you need to lower your hips to sell firewood and walk?

Regardless, some people say it's their gender to carry business tools without leaving their skin. When you go to a tavern where fighting is not uncommon, you may also be wearing it to protect yourself in times of need.

But the number was unusual. If you count from the edge of your eye, the number of people who just quickly cross your fingers on both hands and feet is racing through the same outfit as your arms. If this makes you panic when something happens, it could rain blood there.

"Just in case, report to the lockdown..."

Let's keep it, the word butt, was never permanently uttered.

Gossss, a colleague falls down the road with the dull sound of

"... Huh?

A soldier who drops his eyes on a colleague who collapses a little. My colleague is getting his helmet knocked off by a blow from behind, holding his injured head down and moaning. The next moment I confirmed that, I also felt a shock in the back of my head.

"Damn!?

Vision is brightly extinguished like fire coming out of your eyes, knocking you down from head to ground.

I was beaten, I thought, was about the moment when the ginger paralysis gradually turned into burning pain.

Look behind you cursorily over your shoulder as you can't even try to get up.

There was a man with a familiar beard looking down at the soldiers with thick horns in his hand.

"You, sir... are called an activist -"

Recently, monsters have been raving about the capital with radical speeches all over the place. There was no force or background such as this, a stranger who was seen as a noisy man with only a mouth and who had been repeatedly arrested and released.

Gaston Just. A frivolous eyed man, who should have had that name, stands leading people with similar eye colors.

Gaston said, pointing to the two soldiers rolling at his feet.

"It's a running dog of power.... Kill him."

"... be!?

The poor soldier was swallowed by a flood of violence without any time to be surprised.

Beaten. Beaten. Stabbed.

With a firewood rod, a bastard, a pitchfork in the hands of a man who looks like a horse keeper, his whole body is ravaged.

Armed and trained soldiers are poorer civilians than they can even compare. The assault by them was helpless and impotent, and therefore thorough and intransigent because it took time.

In the event of shortness of breath, the soldier zeroes.

"I don't know, now it's like..."

I didn't mean to say this in Wangdu, but some misplaced whine. Gaston mocked and laughed at it.

"You think it's a piece of cake? No... this is a revolution."

The color of intoxication is also revealed, and Gaston makes corrections to the ignorant. Don't even notice that the opponent is already desperate.

There, one of the activists ran over for a small run.

"Comrade Gaston, the perimeter's logic has been eliminated.... Success. We can do it!

Apparently, another soldier who was guarding the same district has already done so. Gaston slapped his comrade on the shoulder as he leaked a satisfying grin at the upper-end result.

"Very good. You guys stay put and get into the predetermined action. I also decided to go straight to 'Fate'."

"Ha! Risk your life! - For freedom and equality!

"For freedom and equality."

Exchange salutes while mouthing a group of activists' slogans.

Undisturbed control by unanimity. Life sparing, unrelenting morale. It is a literal death squad. They must be the word, they will fight and die as Gaston commanded.

How sublime of Shishi, who martyrs in righteousness! Behold, there must be no soldier to show his devotion for the oppressors!

With that in mind, Gaston turned his heel back. Action in this district is only a glaring positive move. The heart of this decision, the proselytizing revolution, is not here.

From behind, a voice echoes as his subordinates speak to the constituents of the resolution.

"Ladies and gentlemen who took part in our eunuch! I subscribed to the philosophy of activity, noble fighters! Now is the time to purify the corrupt, rooted king's capital of the nation by our hands! … to begin by solemnizing the lowly lusts that have spread to this capital - the merchants!

"" Oooh!!

And the men with weapons raised their voices cloudy with hatred.

"That's right! Kill the merchant!

"Behind us working sweatstorms, you're all golden accounts, and you're all the fucking mud that's been up front! Put him to death!

"Oh, my daughter was bought by a slave trader for money... I can't forgive you!

What goes up in the mouth is resentment towards the merchants.

That too, Gaston laughs sarcastically. While the merchants were the same civilians, they came to exploit the interests of the people with their mouths full of gold. It is an evil that may befall the aristocracy and, in some cases, even the aristocracy, for sale. In fact, the daughter of a crushed nobleman is still being sold as a slave.

The corrupt merchant was also the subject of solemnity by virtue of the law.

"Those who devour warm clothes and satiety with gold squeezed from us, those who unjustly buy up essential supplies, everything is the target! I don't care what it takes to get here! Take back the people's property!

"" Whoa, whoa, whoa!

Gaston walks out, with a barking crowd behind him in response to the leader.

There was nothing he should have done here.

What he had to do was wait for him elsewhere.

On early autumn nights, not long after sunset, Brossenne's central city had turned into a crucible of confusion.

The mob, led by activists - although they were proud of their righteous men - strikes as soon as they have allowances or stores in sight. Industries that buy widespread hatred, such as gold lending and slave traders, were more targeted than ever, both stores dealing with green fruits, meat and other foodstuffs, clothing stores and pharmacists, and even selling goods that lay ! (oza) on the road at the end of the sentence.

Already in their eyes, all the races that trade in gold were seen as objects of hatred.

In one butcher, there was this sight going on.

"Exploiters of the people! Die!"

"Ya, stop it. Eh! What are you..."

"Shut up, you hungry kid, or you won't let him eat if you don't pay!

The shopkeeper, who stood up against the tyrant who vandalized the store, is rarely beaten to death with a stick after he passed out after receiving a stone throw in his head. Seeing the wreckage, one activist said he threw it away like this.

"In the first place, this guy is a bad guy who used the meat of livestock, which was originally the property of the ranch, as a seed for trading and exchanging wealth.... Comrade, expose the body of this sinner to the path! Like the meat this guy's been selling off, we're gonna dismantle him!

"I'm in awe!

The mob turned to its next target while justifying their own assault with unreasonable impossibilities.

"Hey, what are you doing, you guys!? What are you going to do to my daughter!?

Shouting so in a sad voice is the garment store that was stepped into the store where the night should have come and closed. His daughter was held in arms by two men who attacked the store. Often, that face, which should boast a young and healthy blood colour, is faded into fear of violence.

"Ha, help me, Father..."

Girl with a trembling voice that holds pity. But the men who captured her just laughed at the petition with their noses.

"You parents and children are sinners who have lived by demanding and defrauding money for the normal act of being 'dressed'. Let us atone for that sin."

"Such an idiot! What is the sin of trading in clothes!? Where the hell is that law?"

"The law?

The leaders of the men who stepped into the store make their frowns jump up and make their expressions rude.

"It's nothing but a deception, created by the nobles to control the people, such as the laws of this country! There is no reason why we should obey such things when we seek to restore the rights of our people!

We do not recognize the nobility, nor therefore the laws made by the nobles. Such a childish mantra was opened as if it were the right thing to do.

The master of the garment store squeaks powerlessly, as he forgot that his opponent has a weapon and that his daughter is imprisoned.

"Ku, it's crazy..."

And that became his will.

"Are you insulting us?"

"Huh!? Father!"

Neither could he understand the crisis in his daughter's cry, and the shopkeeper beat him down from behind and sinks to the floor. One of the activists with blood on his head waved the hammer with impulse. Blood spreads in a sloppy, radial fashion on the floor my husband rammed up on. It would be instant death. The victim's body was cramped with a crack, but it was merely a life reaction.

"... I'm sorry, comrade. I disposed of it before I originally planned."

"I don't mind, comrade. All you have to do is get the results you initially planned.... Do it."

Interacting strangely, those of the activists who have not held their daughter down attach to the store owner's body and strip out their clothes.

And her daughter breathed in the decency and the inexplicability of the act.

"Hey, what...? Oh, what are you doing to your father?"

"Naked, expose the streets to corpses"

The replies made by the man of leadership were still unintelligible and atrocious. I would have been confused by too many shocks, before my daughter grieves over my father's death, I repeat the question.

"Huh? Huh? Hey, why?

"I told you. In the name of selling clothes, you are guilty of winding up money from the people. So after death, we shall be exposed to wild sun naked. If I were you, I would have executed you after stripping you of your clothes and shaming you thoroughly."

Saying, the man looked at his daughter. The man has terribly cold eyes. So while she was there, the girl instinctively realized that in the depths there were inferior desires peeking into her face.

"By the way, you are still young and have room for regeneration. Best of all, if you want to serve our activities, don't think about saving lives."

"Hih!?

My daughter leaks a short scream. The meaning behind the man's words was blatant.

To the young girl was also to be spoken,

"Get started, peel. Then you can take him outside and do whatever you want. If you refuse to redeem, you may execute me."

The activist man speaks without hesitation in the form of an order to his men.

"Yes, no, ahhh!!

From the girl's mouth, a sorrowful scream ripped open her clothes.

Another party that attacked a building, unlike the others, was experiencing unexpected resistance.

"The miscellaneous fish. Did you think you could take the golden-eyed thing? Hmm?"

A sloppily dressed and broken man says with one hand a sword wet in blood. A middle-aged man who looks like a fat merchant is the one who makes sure he's protected behind it. The merchant distorts the cheeks thrust up by the fat, nymphomaniacally.

"Ha ha! The boulder looks like a man of your age, Doctor!... and that's why. No matter how many poor people you are, you can't beat the rich. Huh? Ha ha!!

"Fuck, fuck! A caution stick!"

"Extremely strong... adventurer jerk?

The group that attacked the gold lending chamber of commerce had been vanquished by the caution stick that appeared, although it was good until it knocked down the front door with exasperation. Five comrades have already been slashed down by a caution stick and exposed to the wreckage at the doorstep. It was the head of the guard and one swordsman who slaughtered him, but there were eight others who thought he was hired. Turn it over. There are six of us left. The raiders had to understand their own disadvantages.

"... retreat! Retreat temporarily!"

"Damn, thoughtless!

The activist, who leads the assailant, bites the umbilical but instructs him to retreat. The accompanying members also followed with a uniformly remorseful look.

The swordsman with the caution stick peeps into the employer's face as he wipes the blood attached to the sword of love with a cloth.

"So? What about the survivors? You can keep chasing him and slaughtering him."

"Please wait, Doctor. That's troublesome."

The gold lender humbled himself with an outspoken rub.

"Think from the noise you hear, how many of those people are still in this city. While the teacher's away from me, he comes to another bunch of people, right? Right?"

"Hmm, does that make sense, too"

Say, a caution stick that delivers the sword to the sheath. He had a great sense of the merchant's heart. The contract with this loan is based on the daily escort, and you are to receive a separate fee when you go here to slash your opponent. Daikon, I guess you hated spending extra money on that.

But that's not convenient for a man with a caution stick. He was an adventurer scumbag. I'm tired of risking my life, so I'm hired to lend money to escort and so on. I slaughtered him because I wanted to. I'm not going to do the stretching. Unless, of course, you are offered a satisfactory fee.

But from the results, the decision was a mistake. He should have gone to slaughter the activists who had raided him at this time. At least we should have left this Chamber of Commerce building.

Around that time, the repelled activists were rendezvous with a group that was attacking another location at a remote point.

"I'm sorry, comrade. In the face of unexpected resistance, he was to step back in front of the solemn guardian."

"What?"

"I have one arm standing caution stick. Five of them were slaughtered."

Upon hearing the report, the merged activists contemplate.

"... that's troublesome. The money that was being illegally exploited by the people after the loan was made should be used to fund our activities."

"But if you keep your hands arched, you miss them. Then you lack the Dragon Dot of this proselytism."

"inevitable, or"

Saying, the activist looked behind Chirali. I see what my men have taken from the stores they attacked. That's where they put him in the van. His mouth is tied with a thick cloth and tightly sealed.

The contents are oil.

"... let's bake. If every building burns down, there's nothing you can do about it, no matter how many arm sticks you have."

"But then there's the receipt of the funds -"

"What, I'm talking about a gold-lending business. Important and precious money must also be treated to a sturdy safe. We should dig it out of the burn and get the contents later."

"… complete, reasonable"

The activists were uniform. It's probably a mixed rambling argument with speculation, but the decision is made lightly. Perhaps the desire to do it was underlying rather than the rational decision that it should be done at its root. They wanted to see the sight of the majestic castle of the abominable lending of gold burning in the midst of the Fire.

The hand-winning of the baking was so peripheral that I didn't think it had been decided in a short discussion.

Stuff the luggage truck, which first brought the oil, with the wood made by destroying the stores that had been raided, and let it run into the front door. Set it on fire after preventing escape and interception as an impromptu barricade.

Consequently, the result is:

"... Whoa, whoa, whoa! Let me out, I say let me out, you bastard!!

That cautionary stick was screaming out of a brick building wrapped in flames. Together, you can also hear guts and breaking barricades from the inside. Perhaps he left only a minimal lookout after that and was lenient in the back. Because of this, there were no interceptions that the activists were concerned about until they were stuck in their luggage and set on fire.

Still, a former adventurer is not Dada either. The man's sword surely cut into the obstacle stacked at the front door and is still about to burst through it. Even though his active life was low-level, he used to play slashing each other in life against monsters with physical abilities across humans. If you keep tapping that sword, you're set to be able to break the impromptu half-breed wall or something.

"Whoa!... What do you say, I smashed him!? Damn it!"

The man jumped outside, kicking the waste material rampantly as he scattered the firepowder. There is also a burnt eye engraved on the disfigured clothes. The eyes were burning in retribution for those who, with their small hands, had put themselves in danger and had also wounded the trust from their employers.

Now I won't let you get away, I'll chop you up with this hand no matter how far you run. With that in mind, the moment I looked around,

"He's out! Now!"

Then I was watered from my head. No, you're not. This sticky plump and strange odor on your nose is definitely not water's.

The man, who perceived the identity of the hung liquid, blued his face, which was red-black and upward.

"No way, this is abu-"

Before I finished mouthing the answer, I was unluckily smoking in there from the burning, and I set it on fire. Most of all, there are already activists surrounded by pine lights. In the end, it's just the difference between late or early.

"-Rahhhhhhhh!? Oh, that's good!?

What a man wears from his head is the rest of the oil he used to set it on fire. The moment it ignited, it burned up violently and licked his body up at high temperatures like hell.

(Hot! Hot! Ahhh, whimpering - ehh!!

The scream rose only at the moment of ignition. Later, a burning flame consumes the air greedily and does not allow even the voice of the disconnected demon to leak outside of it. All a man can do is dance and go mad with heat and intense pain until he burns to death in his bright red vision.

Eventually, the man, once an adventurer and until earlier a caution stick, collapsed to the ground turning into a mass of black charcoal.

One of the activists looks down at it and squeals his nose, then turns his gaze indoors. There he was, looking like a merchant in front of an exit cut open by a caution stick, but surrounded by raiders surrounding the building. Admit it, smile abusively.

"The outline of a favor is gone. Come on, what do we do? Will it burn as it is, or will it come out and hang on our hands? Mercy at least. You have to choose. We respect your choice."

"Hii, hii!?

When I gave him a cramped scream, the merchant smacked his ass cake as it was on the spot. Even if the fire turns indoors, I can't leave because I'm afraid of the activists outside.

He ended up stuck with no choice.

And one of the taverns was on the verge of destroying the activists again.

"Demolish it! Take it back! Their booze belongs to the people!

"Return the fruitful booze to the people who grew the wheat and the grapes!

"... what the hell do you mean you don't understand!?

While knocking down the table in front of the door and preventing the mob from breaking in, the shopkeeper poisons an anger rising from the surface. It is a small tavern that does not even place expensive liquor on it, but rather hurts the head on the bumps of the barefoot soakers. Why should the exploiter's rettel be affixed by activists on the people's side?

"Damn, you're out of your mind..."

"Ho, that's true..."

Nicolas, a third-rate painter who is a regular customer of the store, agreed with the bottom of his heart shopkeeper with a blue-white face.

What the hell happened to this? Why get caught up in this when he says he was just finishing his job as usual and drinking here as usual.

In the first place, for what reason did the people run into such outrages, who had been missing out on things for the good of the people from day to day?

Certainly some of the merchants will have sesame seeds. But there must have been a handful of them. Nicola's home was also a merchant, but it was sometimes small in size, or it should be unrelated to such evil deeds. Also, this - I'm sorry to say - hit a dicky tavern, and all I get is some sales and cheap liquor. Most of the shops around here will be caught up in the noise of leaking from outside.

Attack those who have no sin in asking for violence, and take their lives and property.

- Well, it's like a new bandit.

To Nicola's indignation, the shopkeeper leaks a dry laugh.

"Ha! That's exactly it! He's no different than a thief."

And as it is, empty barrels and crates are piled behind the table to reinforce the entrance blockade.

"... but you smelled more burnt on the street. They used fire in some store, didn't they? You can't steal it, kill it, burn it these days. You're a rare villain."

"I'm in trouble, Mr. Oyaji!?

One of the guests rises with a frozen expression.

"If they set fire to you in a store like this, there's not a single pile! Sa, I guess some booze gets on fire and burns!?

"There's no booze in this store that's expensive or expensive."

"As such -!"

The customer turns her eyes and tells her blue lips. His hands were repeatedly closed and open in the air so as to grab the chest barn of someone he couldn't see.

It's a dangerous sign, Nicola thinks.

In the face of tension, it was a peculiar move just before it went into action without clapping. Once, I saw a fight between chimps in the city mixed with wild horses. At that time, the customer behaved very similarly to the technique that the person who suddenly took out the knife in the middle of the beating had seen.

"- If it's closed here, it's the same! Oh, I'm going home! Hey, hey, I'm going home!

"!? Stop. Wow!

Nicolas slumped down from behind the man who raised his gold cuts and aimed for the entrance and exit blocked by the table. Daimyo, you tried to get out of here, even by removing the obstacles that are holding the mob in. They say it's assembled from behind, but they're trying to aim for an exit until they put their nails up on the floor.

"Ha, let go! Get out of my way! Why are you interrupting me? You're one of those people out there, too!?

"Gu Bu!? Hey, stop..."

At last, Nicolas, who was trying to stop him from seeing, befell the elbow iron.

Sparks scattered across my sight. The back of the nasal cavity gets hot when I wonder if I felt a shock on the nose surface, and the blood runs out when I creep. I accidentally let go of my hand,

"Go!

"Huh!?

Gotun, along with the dull sound of, I felt my powers fall out of the body I was grasping.

I look up surprised at what happened.

"Ugh... Ku, Chloe?

"Ha, ha... So, are you okay, Mr. Nicolas?

If you look, Chloe, the billboard daughter of the tavern, was holding a jock that looked heavy and roughed her breath. And right next to me, he looks like a man stretching out with a puff on his head. Apparently, I saw her beat the guy up and shut him up.

"Ugh, yeah. Thank you."

"Oh, good... Ah, blood! You're bleeding!?

"No, it's just a nosebleed, so it's no big deal. Still, you're surprisingly bold..."

The tension is lifted recoil, or when you slap such a light mouth, she hides the jock behind her back, "Oh, no," she said. When I saw that, the shopkeeper laughed.

"What, he's also the daughter of Lower Town. I'm not even a nobleman's daughter, so don't get drunk so hard."

"Also, Ugh! Store manager!"

Nicola unexpectedly finds something soothing in Chloe's appearance to lecture with a blush.

But I heard a violent noise from the outside, as if it were a heartless reminder of the status quo.

"... open it, open it! Damn it! How long are you going to keep the cage closed, you pig selling alcohol poison to the common man!

The thugs try to break the obstacles piled in front of the door by knocking them from the outside. The noise of unobstructed and indiscriminate beating of wood splits my ear. but they don't have the right tools for destruction such as axes, and although the stacked barricades will be pushed somewhat, there are no signs that they are going to be pushed away even now.

"You guys want to be set on fire?!? If you don't want to be burned down, come out!

Chloe shook her shoulders violently at the fury she heard over the wall. Nicola whispers in her ear with that shoulder in her arms when she is afraid.

"... that's okay. Yeah, and yelling and letting them come out means they're arching their hands too. It doesn't mean we can light the store right now."

"Mr. Nicolas...?

"Maybe they're the ones with the oil or something that's attacking somewhere else. I don't think the people who are calling out now even have the flint stone"

I have confidence in this speculation. At any rate, I can't even see the shards in the men who speak up on the table, elements such as reason but patience. If I wanted to light a fire, I wouldn't even have the idea to indulge in it right away.

And yet you don't, which means you can't do it even if you want to.

The shopkeeper opens his mouth with a smelly face as he rubs his jaw.

"But what if they rendezvous with someone who has the tools to fire? It's only a matter of time before it happens..."

"Well, that's right. But..."

and bite the scared mind to keep a calm look. For one thing, I don't feel like I'm succeeding.

"- It's only a matter of time, if that's what you can tell them."

"Hmm?"

"The whole city is making a scene in this king's capital. Whatever it is, I think it's about time the Knights came out, right?

Nicola tells herself that as well as the store owner and Chloe.

This is Brosenne, king's capital of the kingdom of Arquelle. The main force behind the city is the Kingsguard Knights of the Royal Castle, which also sounds like the finest in the country. I don't think I'll ever let this city, the king's lap, like the mob. They should rush to a city that is still in turmoil and drive these lousy rioters away...

That was Nicolas' last hope - no, all the citizens who are now trembling at the mob's fierceness.

To that word, Chloe makes a grin with a strong expression, and the shopkeeper imitates it.

"Right! I'm sure the knights' help will come!

"Not at all. Otherwise, it's not worth paying high taxes from cold nostalgia..."

Even during the exchange of words with others, the amphibious liquor store is exposed to the sound of destruction from the outside.

Whether the Knights rush first or the sealed entrance and the broken walls first... I don't want to think about it, but can you set fire to the new and rendezvous thieves first?

The helpless citizens waited for that time as they pulled over and shook.

Nicola's reasoning had two holes.

One thing the activists have been eyeing until today is who they really were.

And for whom does the Knights he counts exist by nature?

But pointing that out wouldn't mean a lot.

Because there's nothing a helpless citizen can do but wait for help, believe me.