Reincarnation Monarch

One.

After receiving a knife from Colin's entire body, Ars, deeply choosing his right thigh, withstood the pain while masterfully withstanding further onslaught.

(I have no choice but to protect it for a while. Anyway, now I need to focus on calming my mind and getting my breathing ready...)

Ars had masterfully attacked Colin with his experience of hundred wars.

And even as we continued to unwittingly match our swords, our childhood memories came back to life unconsciously.

Semga, a small village at the foot (foot) of the Gasco Mountains in northwestern Lowenglin.

Lived in this village, meaning happiness, Ars grew up limply surrounded by three poor but loving parents and gentle brothers.

Poverty prevented me from getting a satisfactory education, and although I helped my parents in the fields more every day than I did in my childhood, that was perfectly natural for Ars, who kept my days busy without leaking any particular dissatisfaction.

The only pleasure for Ars like that was swordsmanship practice with the three brothers, which takes place between farming tasks.

In order to be able to challenge his brothers with a handmade coarse wooden sword, he broke (dusted) the faces of his watching parents several times.

It was Ars who was lightly taken by his brothers at the beginning, but gradually the genius of dazzling swordsmanship brought his head.

Als, who was originally agile, gradually skillfully engaged his brothers in the attack, and in an age when his grip grew stronger, he remembered the type of attack and became quite like it.

And when Ars numbered fifteen, the three brothers were, of course, swordsmen of great skill to all the neighboring adults.

Als, who has also been layering his sword drills ever since, finally makes a great decision on his seventeenth birthday.

He volunteered to join the Pope Roenglin Army.

The parents initially expressed opposition to Ars' decision.

In recent years, however, the domestic mood has been completely relaxed and rather peaceful in the Pope Lowenglin, even if some can only be called skirmishes with neighboring countries, in order to retroactively (but retroactively) go back as far as fifty years if it were to be a major battle.

For this reason, both parents finally succumbed to Ars' intransigent persuasion and were allowed to enlist.

Approximately a month after his seventeenth birthday, Ars' chest was heartfelt, carrying the village of Semga, where he was born and raised after being dropped off by a family who would spare him a breakup.

That too, he was invincible in the village.

There was no one to hang on to.

That made him feel even bigger.

But the world was not so sweet for the seventeen young men.

The time it took for his heart to break unbroken, which was intentional, was only about a week from the date of enlistment.

Because Lowenglin was a big country.

No matter how well drilled (Ken) he was, this great country was not so sweet that a young man from one country, let alone his own sword moves, suddenly prevailed.

But once he was a heartbroken Ars, because of his youth, he rose up.

And when my brothers had once taken me lightly, my thoughts had returned, and my heart had once again taken the path to the swordsman.

That was a very long and arduous journey.

But nothing broke his heart ever again, and he took steady steps to the tunnel.

And more than ten years passed.

Ars was fulfilling the thought of becoming a swordsman of the smelters in his heart on his youth.

He was allowed to enlist in the flourishing SS and finally became its chief.

Ars looked back on his long strides in the struggle, gaining great confidence and vitality to overcome the crisis he was now facing.

Two.

Colin was heartily surprised that the first blow had worked out so well.

Even though the opposing Ars was deeply upset, he was a master of swords and didn't think of himself as the one who could easily get his hands injured.

Because of this, Colin's heart nodded slightly that Ars the Smelter had put his hand on him, and at the same time his sword lacked sharpness.

As a result, Ars' defense, prepared for dedicated defense since then, could hardly be broken.

(Damn it! One more knife, one more. Why won't you come in!?

Colin gradually became anxiously driven while he was consistently unable to strike in an effective slaughter by matching the blades without dozens.

And now I'm being held captive by the thought of how many more decades, or how many lilies, it might be wasted just typing in.

It was a joyful and brave attempt to feed the spider, but it reminded Colin that the roaches were unknowingly imprisoned by the spider's thread and could no longer move.

(No! I'm not going in! Damn it! Why!?

Such Colin's agony was transmitted sensitively to the sword-changing Ars.

Ars was a hundred wars cultivation in the first place, and now that he had calmed his mind, there was no such thing as reading emotions from every step of the young Colin.

However, the wounds sustained by Ars were quite deep, so he was not fully breathed yet and had not (yet) entered the counter-attack posture.

Still, the rushing colors floating in Colin's face only slightly increased, and the whereabouts of this battle, which seemed to the amateur to be Colin's overwhelming advantage, leaned heavily towards Ars in the bastard's eyes.

The poisonous spider that hides a powerful poison in its sturdy jaw while at the mercy of the hand and the young roaches who bravely and resolutely wield their sickles by covering their inner agony were about to usher in a settlement.