Reworld•Frontier-Saijakuni Shite Saikyou no Shien Jutsu Shiki Tsukai [Enhancer]

"Ahhh! What are you doing! It's not. It's not! So we go in there and what do we do? - It's too late to pull. Ooh!

"Um, Ashley? I think we should calm down a little. Okay?

"Shut up, Zelda! This is what keeps me calm - so it won't be the same there! I'm not teaching you how to fight like that, Beowulf!

"Ha... really, you were absolutely right to decide to watch the game away from just you and Ashley and everyone else... well, it was Ashley herself who mentioned it..."

corner of the audience. Zelda Assandri sighed, jeez, next to one angry opponent. Before the duel began, it was Ashley herself, no other, who had proposed not to watch the game with fellow members of The Knights of Pale Red Flames and to move away. Probably knew it myself. That I will lose myself, and this is how I will be rammed.

"Oh, oh, how could you just waste all that shooting - you should step back there! The other guy is a lancer!? More ideas for avoidance exercise - how come it's a stun grenade there!? I haven't, not at all!

The opponent, who is heating up helplessly, shakes his red-gold hair enough to unwind it, which is usually exactly what he puts together in his cygnon, raising his voice, which is not supposed to reach the AR screen.

- Once you get it in, you're the type of person who gets tocotton enthusiastic. No, Ashley is. It feels like a caretaker aunt.

Zelda, as well as Ashley, one of the Knights executives "Cartesian Third, has many opportunities to act with her when same-sex people go hand in hand. I had some grasp of her personality from that long relationship.

When Zelda met Ashley herself for the first time, she had already taken a "gruesome attitude." But as we get to know each other longer, Ashley has a habit of wanting to bake excessive care for someone whose feelings have once shifted, regardless of the dangers of their attitude.

- I liked Beo a lot.

Zelda sees Ashley still holding her fist and cheering for her temporary swordsmanship guide apprentice with her raw warm eyes. Then,

"- So why are you throwing weapons there! You won't be the one who can fight and win with just the hit! Think harder - ahhh!? Are you stupid or stupid? Are you stupid!? Didn't they do it the same way just now because they don't properly alert their attacking ceremony?

"Huh? Did you throw a weapon?

A little concerned word popped up, so Zelda glanced back at the AR screen.

As always, the big screen shows Beowulf struggling without overshadowing his unfavourable situation. As Ashley has been outraged since earlier, his way of fighting is not as good. The difference in strength with the opponent, Romnick Bagley, is obvious, and although various operations have been strategically prepared to bridge the difference, it seems impossible to say that they are sophisticated at the tactical level.

Both sides are not intact. But unlike Romnick, who only suffered minor injuries to the extent of a single hit, Beowulf's wear and tear was incomparably severe.

It is so strange that he has not yet been fatally injured.

Probably the performance of the combat jacket you're wearing is good. It is carved all over the tip of the spear and worn out, but only the steeple is well protected. Beowulf's Photon Blood splashed around the two dueling men, painting countless waterball patterns.

Zelda has also heard from Ashley about a whole street of circumstances. That she was sneaking out to buy Beowulf's swordsmanship guide role, or that she's been working out that boy with me until Captain Victoria these past few days.

I have nothing in particular to think about them. Originally, Zelda was not the type to be very interested in other people's hobbies.

But even for her, sometimes I wonder.

"... may I ask you something, Ashley?

"What is it, Zelda? I'm very busy right now! And you're as weird with words as ever!

It was Zelda, who I don't think is too busy shouting advice that won't arrive, but I dared to go through there.

"I don't think it's a bad idea to say this - isn't this too much for Mr. Beo? Yet why are you so temperamental and supportive?

It was meant to be a simple question. I'm not claiming a sober perspective by a third party - but from Zelda's point of view, there is no Beowulf victory, no matter what you think. Opponents are overwhelmingly better equipped, of course, in advance preparation. That should also be obvious to Ashley's eyes.

Yet why does she support Beowulf all the time withering her voice? Zelda didn't pin there.

To Zelda's question, Ashley stopped moving in a pittance. I also cease to cheer that was popping out of my mouth to flourish and freeze completely.

Zelda tilted her neck to a sudden change from motion to stillness. Would I have said something so strange -. So the girl added a further supplement.

"Sure, Beo can't use SEAL right now, can he? But the rules of the duel also prohibit supporting ceremonies. For once, it looks like they've prepared a lot to do something around it... but it feels like they're getting just as ready to keep in mind, doesn't it? I don't care what you think. It's not usually impossible, is it?

Occasionally, the screen shows Beowulf's face up. The look on the boy's face at that time is desperate. Several lacerations run on his cheeks, and as he moves, Photon Blood splashes from one end of his body, leaving traces of blood on the floor and Romnick's clothes. It's not a face or a move that's giving up victory. On the contrary, it's an atmosphere where you don't even think about your defeat. However,

"I don't know... modestly, you're not out of your hands or feet, are you?

It was certainly at the beginning that Beowulf pressed some scenes, and it seemed as if there was a winning chance. But now, the boy's victory is no longer equal to the lights in front of the wind.

Since the first clean hit, all his attacks have been dodged or defended. On the contrary, every time I attack, all I get is Beowulf eating a counter and scratching. Still not settled, I guess, because, for one thing, the dueling Romnick is out of hand. I don't know what he meant, but apparently he enjoyed wearing Beowulf. That's the biggest reason Beowulf hasn't lost yet.

Romnick can defeat Beowulf whenever he wants to. It all depended on his mood - no, the boy was in the same condition as dancing on thin ice.

Exactly, it's an adult-child fight.

"... remains, well, Ashley trained you, so I know what you want me to win..."

Zelda, who's getting anxious because Ashley doesn't make it too slight, put in a follow up late.

"... sure, you're right, Zelda"

After awkward silence came down for a while, Ashley finally opened her heavy mouth. The girl with the red gold hair disturbed speaks in a surprisingly calm voice without taking her eyes off the screen.

"No matter how hard you look at it, Beowulf doesn't have a chance. Because even the local forces are losing, and the opponents are coming to this duel again in full swing. Besides, the details are still unknown, but Victoria said he was the" Artifact Holder ". Whoever you ask, there's no one who believes in Beowulf's victory."

Rugged eyes calmly stare at the battle as it appears on the AR screen. From its calm side, Zelda strokes her chest down wondering if her eyes were too relieved by emotion and cloudy. Ashley is the brainchild of Knights after Karel Ren. Her blunt judgment is not for Knights or, hence, for Zelda herself.

"But"

Tense his chest, Ashley said the reverse conjunct.

"Zelda, have you forgotten yet? He's..." The brave Beowulf "is the hero who defeated that" Hierarchy Without Opening "floormaster, isn't he?

In a soft tone, Ashley glanced at Zelda with a stream.

"You may not know that you haven't fought directly, but that floormaster - MidgalsOlm - is a monster among the monsters, who couldn't even be punished by my" Sir Baylin's "Mourning Strike. Honestly, there won't be as many fights as there's no chance of winning."

Zelda traces the battle in an obsolete virtual space. Indeed, at that time, Zelda was only fighting a herd of dragons with Ashley, and never even approached the monster of a multi-headed serpent, far greater than the dragon species. Nevertheless, I knew with a skin sensation that [alle] was so much more horrible than dragons and such without having to be dared to tell me.

"It was a reckless battle from the beginning. Huge floormasters, masses of dragons popping at the same time... against us are just seven U.S.S. crowds. Plus, the three of them are wounded, and only four of them can fight properly. We didn't think there was any chance that reinforcements would come, and we didn't want supplies replenished. Half the time, if you're going to starve to death for no reason, let's scatter in the battle - maybe that's what you thought."

Speaking pale and quiet, Ashley's appearance seemed paradoxically a faithful representation of how cornered she was at the time.

"It was a desperate battle. Especially when Beowulf sheltered Flim and was crushed by Midgals Olm, something that only lasted a moment but darkened in front of him. Right... Zelda, until that moment you rushed me, I thought somewhere in my head, 'No more,' 'Everybody dies,' 'It's just a matter of time anyway' - I think so"

Rugged eyes gazing at the screen would not have seen the footage there though. You must be staring at the memories floating behind your brain.

"... but he [flipped me] through such a situation. By the time I had no skin, I was so desperate that there was nothing more to it. And even though I helped my people, I let them accomplish it brilliantly. The great thing about destroying that mighty floormaster."

"Ah..."

Zelda accidentally spilled her voice. I was surprised by the vegetables.

To the fact that Ashley is smiling softly.

Very rare. Rather than the content of the story, Zelda was fascinated by the change in her expression.

Staring at Beowulf's face as it appears on the AR screen, Ashley proclaims as much as any devout believer who worships the Virgin Mary.

"Indeed, there are some very tough situations surrounding him this time as well. In fact, from this look in my eyes, there is little chance of winning. But... [Still]"

Pronouncing the last word strongly, Ashley answered Zelda's question.

"Whatever your predicament, it should be noted that [he'll do something about it], or [he'll do something about it] - there's something in Beowulf that makes you expect that. I'm sure that's the same for Master Victoria. It wasn't spoken to directly, but otherwise you shouldn't be looking to train him for a duel. Therefore, I will do everything in my power to support him. I believe in the possibilities of his victorious future. … this is the answer to your question, Zelda"

After saying it out, Ashley slowly turned to Zelda. In a powerless nature, gaze into the Persian blue eyes of the girl who takes the alias "Storm Ryder".

With a voice full of strange confidence, the disturbed haired girl affirmed.

"Above all, it is the hero, the brave man, who screws over his predicament and adversity"

And

"His alias is" Brave Beowulf. "If he is a real brave man, he will surely attract victory. Don't you think so, Zelda?

…………

Heroic worship. I found something in the other party that I could only call exactly so, and Zelda was stunned.

Originally, Ashley had feelings for the hand. Absolute trust in top-notch explorers such as "Sword Lady Villey" and "Ice Spear Karel Ren". It was a heart sickness equal to faith - it was a girl who could easily have such things.

But - what the hell did that boy show Ashley? No longer have you won so much trust as a great hero?

Ashley's voice pierces Zelda's ear, who can't believe the other party's transformation.

"Come on, if you understand, speak up too, Zelda! When you lose, it's when you lose! But just in case Beowulf triumphs, you'll know how I feel too! Come on!"

Suddenly Ashley's face is approaching, and Zelda's arm is grabbed. Zelda was drained of her liver by a rugged hanging that came close to her.

"And on a personal note, this is the best place to start! Now there could be a great reversal of the century! There's no way you're gonna miss this!

"Heh? Uh, yes. So!? Oh, ah, but hang in there, Beo. Come on!

With the collapse slapping him on the back, Zelda was set to stand up alongside Ashley.

Next to it, a doubling voice pops out Ashley's throat.

"Look what you're doing, Beowulf! That's not what we trained you to do! Remember!

■

"Hey, Karel, Ren's husband, you got a minute?

"What is it, Project? We're still in a duel. If you're in the bathroom, be patient."

Karellen returned cold without a glance to the voice of the man who had spoken right from the left. Emerald eyes even look at the AR screen overhead.

"Come on, Tsuman. Stop hating me. No, can I go home now? I thought so."

"? What do you mean?

Ice spears looked back at the non-listening dialogue. Naturally, make it hard to notice.

The man who receives the glance of an ice blade is a man who weaves a battle coat of the same design, but lacquered black, as Karel Ren.

Same as Karellen when I was a year, or a little above. The blue-eyed young man, with his stubborn black hair and slightly saucy eyes, chewed his elbow in front of him with his gaze on the ice thorn.

"No, it doesn't mean anything. He said he was tired of it. You already see the results, this. It's not worth watching until the end."

"I agree about that. But I told you. There is nothing wrong with this matter, Captain, and therefore with all of us. As a minimal courtesy, it's up to the Knights to support them."

"Oh, I know, I remember it right. But you don't need any more backup, do you?

"... I mean, is this what you're trying to say, Project? Beowulf's losing is visible, so it's no use supporting him -"

The man, called Project, slightly rounded his eyes to Karellen, who asked him to sigh with his arms together.

"To? Oh, no, no, no, sir. That's not true."

Karellen now twists her head to a project that waves and denies in front of Patapata and her face.

"No? What do you mean?

The project gave a cynical grin to his boss, one of his men and "Cartesian Third", who wrinkled at the root of his eyebrows.

"The other way around, the other way around. This duel, no matter how you look at it, is a kid's win. I don't know if they're" artifact owners, "but it's also a good place for small people. I can't even talk about it."

I shook my head and let him flaunt my shoulder, and the project glanced at the ceiling so that I could stand back.

After staring carefully to explore such a side, Karellen asks.

"... I'll ask you why, but why do you think so?

"Hmm... is that him?

"You again... that's all you ever do"

To the answer of his men, who returned with a gentle picking of his jaw, his boss, Karellen, lay down his eyes and exhaled one frightened exhale.

"... okay, Project. At the moment it is the dueling opponent - a very common view of what I think is Romnick Bagley. In fact, other humans think so. What about there?

"Ma, Pa, you'll see. I think so, too."

"So you think the invisible element has something to do with it?

Karellen is also long, but the project is no less tall. A dark-haired man receives the look of suspicion piercing him directly from the side, with pale eyes that contain.

"Oh yeah... I guess it feels [different mood] if I put it briefly"

"Mood?"

Karellen frowned at the vague narrative. Without paying attention, the project raises the right hand of a battle glove braided with metal threads like a fighter, pins, and index fingers.

"Yes, it's temper, temper. The consciousness to come to the battle is as if it were different. Kid is serious about bees. The opponent is bonkers appropriate. We're not gonna talk about this. Sir, you know the story of" Rabbit and Turtle, "right?

"... you want to tell me that Romnick is a rabbit and Beowulf is a turtle?

"So-so, that. So even if the opponent looks dominant now, at the end of the day, the kid wins. This is what I see."

laughed lightly, and the project shows an AR screen overhead with the jaw.

"Guys, it may be my hobby to have a duel opponent, but eating a tail that's as bad as a guy who loses his hand in a serious battle is a regular part of the battle. The man has an invisible alarm. And there's a deadly alarm. Not far away. Beowulf will beat you there."

"... Honestly, it doesn't look that way..."

I look at the confidently twitching project in a frivolous fashion, and Karellen also returns her gaze to the screen. Then it was just fine, showing Beowulf being punched in the face with a Romnick spear. No matter how modest you say it, it's like blowing big, rolling over the floor and splashing deep purple blood.

But...

- Sure, his eyes aren't dead yet.

The light of will that dwells in the boy's pitch-black eyes is no less pale than when he saw it before the duel. On the contrary, it also seemed to enhance the brilliance even further.

"Oh, that's the face of a man with one thing in his belly. I'm not just being unilaterally hit, I'm targeting something with tiger vision - that's the face. I don't know if that'll lead to a reversal."

Discarding irresponsibly, the project grins refreshingly by the time it is deliberate. Guh, thumbs up,

"- So, sir. I'm done explaining, and I can go home now, right?

"Wait. That's not what I'm talking about. If you say so much, rather look to the end."

"Oh, come on. It's a snake. Oh, so you want to bet? I bet the Beowulf kid my husband's the white one over there."

When hope was rejected, the project began to climb the other way, rather than depressed. Wink in the spirits, laugh. But this, and Karellen slapped him down without regard.

"The rules prohibit gambling between members of the group. Be careful."

In a cold response, I just said, "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no." The project made a big gesture.

"Heck, stick with me. Because of your name," Libertus Ex, "you may have let me be free for a little while.

"You're the only one who would admit to doing uniforms of different colors. Be satisfied with that for one thing. Better than that, your predictions are going to fall short, aren't they?

"Oh, did the white one mean it?

Fished by Karellen's words, the project turned to the AR screen again. There, Karellen tells you the truth.

"Apparently out of ammo"

■

"There's only one more shot of the charge break..."

Staring at the giant screen floating at the top of the entrance and exit, Flim was unconsciously biting his right thumbnail.

On the six-wielding sword, the special blow prepared for eighteen shots, with the exception of one, was actually sixteen shots off as funny.

It is one of the facts that the user is not strong enough, but that is not all.

Ragdishardt's dueling opponent - Romnick's unusual prefetching has either avoided the attack or derailed it.

"Plus, there's one stick left..."

Rose watches the battle next to Flim as well, and she can put her unknown strength into both hands that she has put together in front of her chest. The palms so clenched that the skin grew white, trembling into blurbs and small pieces. The figure even seemed as if he was praying to God.

I also used eleven flash pronunciation bullets that were held for towing, and I have one left.

Contrary to the two men watching the boy in a frustrating or anxious manner, the International Tall Girl standing in front of them arrogantly turned against her throat and chest and was benevolent.

He has his arms together, his lips tied to one letter. None of the elements made me feel irritated or anxious in Hanumoon's standing as he emitted a strong gaze from his pale and gold eyes and shot into the screen.

…………

Silence. I just stare and look forward to the battle of my only best friend. As if that's your responsibility.

In her eyes, there's no rush. There is no fear.

The girl just believed in the boy.

Nevertheless, I am not sure of the victory.

I'm not even ready for defeat.

There's only one thing I'm deciding.

Whatever happens, I accept everything - that's what Hanumoon set out in his mind.

So here's what she tells the two backwards.

"Don't be a wolf, Flim, Rosé"

prestigious.

"Don't worry. Rats don't do it when they do it."

Staring at the hurtful boy on the screen, Hanumoon nonetheless affirmed.

"Trust him."

…………

Two people, who were supposed to be far older than the young girl, stared at their small backs without a voice.

At this time, a back that was supposed to be luxurious, wearing a jacket from the head - both Flim and Rosé looked as reliable as a giant.

Flim matches the amber eyes, Rosé matches the amethyst eyes. And

"... well, cry or laugh one more shot... it's like the next one..."

"Yeah, no matter how it turns out, we just do everything we can to protect Mr. Rugg."

If we win, we call it the official army, if we lose, we call it the bandit army. There's nothing wrong with a boy winning, but if he loses, bashing from around him will be inevitable. At that time, there are only three people here who can protect him.

Flim and Rosé's eyes also gave rise to a glow of the same kind as that which dwells in the eyes of Hanumoon.

It's a light of readiness.

It was a manifestation of strong determination, no longer a must of the battle in front of us, but to protect the boy no matter what happened afterwards.

Flim let go of his mouth from the nails he was chewing unconsciously, and Rose unwrapped both hands he was putting together hard.

I no longer need words.

The three girls watch the boy fight with their thoughts in their hearts and spit.

Scratchy, but still not giving up winning, boy's face is shown on the screen.

On both eyes of pitch black, the same deep purple glow as his Photon Blood lit up.

■

You can say that I am full of creativity. [M]

I bet it hurts everywhere in your body.

Maybe, but depending on the location, I think there are places where the bones are stuck.

But I'm not sure right now.

I'm not feeling dull. Rather, the opposite is true.

The whole body was hot to burn, and a cell called a cell was activated in two. Doh, doh, doh, and limb muscles are also contracting repeatedly as the heart beats. Overload, what a word flickered around the corner of my brain.

It was in excellent condition.

While I am horribly overhead, the five senses are sharp. I can objectively overlook the state of my own flesh as if reading machine data. On top of that, the sensory organs of the whole body were so sharpened that even the movement of the air in this security room was likely to be felt on the skin.

At the same time, I don't feel the wonder and the pain from the wounds and bruising marks engraved all over my body. Maybe the head is automatically blocking the disturbing pain. All I need right now is information about the fight. All other noise is shut out.

Mr. Villey would have complimented me on 'Nice concentration' if he was here.

But the situation ran out of worst words.

Here's the status quo:

Five of them, which Flim prepared six swings for me early on, shot up a charge break, and they are accidental there. From the appearance of a sword rolling on the floor without a sheath, is it my fault that I feel something gradually deceased? Also, the special sticks that he had prepared for towing and positive motion had run out of eleven of the twelve.

And I'm now facing Romnick with a small knife in my right hand and a stick in my left hand.

"... yes... yes... yes... yes!

Blood falling from my forehead takes away my left eye vision. He wiped the blood hanging from his eyes with the back of his left hand holding his fist as he breathed shaking his body wide up and down like a roaring internal combustion engine.

The last remaining weapon is just about the size of a white tiger when it was sidelined. The reach is short, but lightweight for that matter, and easy to handle. Above all, I get speed.

The last stick I hid in my left hand is actually a special one that was strongly said to Flim before the duel. This is the only reason within the twelve bottles, it is only a little dark purple.

'Fine, Hart. Anytime else, but this is the last thing you'll ever use.'

I asked him why he was so familiar with the child. [M] As a very obvious question. Then,

'That's a secret. But okay? Absolutely, definitely the last time you're gonna use it, huh?

The answer came back, so of course I got anxious and let go of the further questions I stepped in. Um, maybe this isn't a flash pronunciation bullet, it's not a real bomb, is it? -.

In contrast, Flim

'Yeah, don't worry there.' Cause that's not what it is. '

At the time I smiled like an angel, I gave up mentioning it any more. Because I didn't think you'd give me a decent answer, and I didn't think you'd get a decent answer back. Besides, at the time, I used to brace the height that, well, we just had to be feathers to use this.

Therefore, I was in the mood for just a little beating now. Anyway, I don't know what this is. Is it the same flash pronunciation bullet as the other sticks? Or is it a bomb in the true sense? Or is it something else...

"I'm having a good time, Beowulf. You look great."

Romnick turns his face to anger as usual.

Until the duel, his clothes and spears, which were dazzling white, were now completely tainted by my blood splash. Like shaking the brush and scattering the paint, the dots of deep purple mixed in large and small depict a waterball pattern. In it, his blue-blue Photon Blood would not be mixed by a single percent.

Since Romnick got serious, sadly, my offense hasn't hit me properly. The slaughter, the charge break, the kick, everything is avoided as if they were dealing with windy cotton wool. Still, sometimes I meet with his white spear, but at that time, without exception, he does sword strikes, and he's even been knocked into the counter.

Moreover, Romnick, who sees the future, even fights back by prejudging the evasive actions I would take. How many times have you been hooked on his feint and meat choosen on the tip of a spear waiting for you before you tried to dodge him? There were countless holes in "Achilles" that Flim remade, peering into the skin and lacerations from the gap.

What's more, I guess Romnick's gear is endowed with 'healing protection'. Even the only damage Chargebreak had done with a clean hit was now completely healed.

Come here, he's almost intact.

In exchange for that, I'm scratched.

From the audience watching the duel outside, the trend of the battle would no longer have been decided at this point.

Maybe I'm the only one who hasn't given up on this yet. In this way, I'm not sure even Hannu and the others believe in my victory. That's how I wore out. [M]

"Come on, how about it's time to take a look? You knew so much that you didn't want to beat me. Until this moment, you know how many hundreds of opportunities I had to be able to kill you, right?

I know. This guy has poked my gap over and over again by predicting the future. At that time, you could have taken as many lives as you wanted from me as you wanted from the steeple.

"And isn't it about time we ran out of measures? Honestly, it's starting to look good, and I think it's just the right time to beg for your life. Or do you want to go up ugly to the end? I don't care either way."

I stare soberly at the eartips of a spear completely stained with deep purple and proclaim it with a voice so upbeat that even a whistle seems to blow out now.

That was also something I had no choice about. Now I'm in fiction doing a guy who's not a big deal about slapping a big mouth. That's the overwhelming advantage over there, so it's natural for Romnick to get in tune.

But.

- Not yet.

Such a thing, water on a burning stone.

"There's no battle yet."

As I said, I am in better shape than I have ever been before, though I am full of creativity.

I just got away with a difference in my hair, but in just a few moments I could get a direct hit on the charge break. Moreover, he was able to bounce the Romnick counter back with the left circular shield and finish the integration intact for the first time.

From here.

It's not his cluelessness not to take my life instantly. [Hands off]

Bite a cramped cat. If the bird (Tori) is also sleepy (come), cover the car. The idiotic power of the fire - there are as many words to indicate me now.

If you lick it, lick it. Laugh if you want to.

The last one standing is the winner.

"Bedtime is after winning."

My body is hot from the core. Feeling like you're moving fueled by something you shouldn't burn. I even feel like Photon Blood flowing from the wound evaporates at high heat body temperatures. I don't even care at all about the wetness of the blood flow that wets the inside of my clothes.

"I told you so."

I can see my consciousness is focused on combat. I find myself in the 'zone'. In the end, Mr. Villey was right. I can only increase my concentration to the maximum by being cornered like this.

But now...

"I'm gonna make you regret this!"

Command to Skywalker on both feet. Kick your ass if you slap out the biggest acceleration you've ever had. Don, and make a sound like a shelling noise to take the first step. My body pops out like a bullet in the wake of an explosive recoil.

For a moment, all the surrounding sounds disappeared. Maybe it approached sound speed unlimited at that moment.

――

The last bottle of the special stick. Wave it left and throw it. At the same time, launch the "STUCKS" by pushing the command into "Achilleus". My head is wrapped in a perfectly pitch black helmet.

It burst.

Light and sound explode. But it's surprising. There is no change of philosophy compared to previous ones. Same flash pronunciation bullet as the conventional one. What was the last thing Flim told me to do with this?

- It was the moment I thought.

"- Become...!?

Stunning voice of Romnick. I don't know what to say after all, but the guy with his eyes closed and his ears blocked is stunned and stiff.

The reason for this is the stick I threw.

No. The atmosphere is subtly different from the eleven previous flash projectiles. The first bee and air scratching sound I hear, the smell of burning.

Electric shock.

The last one contained not only flashes and explosions, but also high-voltage lightning.

But anyway, this is how I threw it, because I'm within the range of the lightning flash, and in the end...

Didn't.

"Huh!?

Playing and recirculating - the "Achilleus" that I am wrapped around was completely defending against the lightning that passed through the atmosphere and cluttered my tentacles.

Thus only one Romnick is paralyzing his body by a sudden electric shock and stopping him from moving as if he were a stone statue.

- Right, so...!

I found out why Flim told me to always use this one last time. To deceive the enemy, start with your allies. She was cheating on me and Romnick at the same time to help create a favorable situation.

If I missed this opportunity, I was the biggest idiot in the world.

"- Charge!"

"Maximum Charge"

Without hesitation, fill yourself with the last bottle of weapon you bring - the last energy stored in it. A blade of silver was wrapped in purple light, and a brilliance similar to lightning splashed.

This is the real deal, the last blow.

I don't see why Romnick, who should have seen the future, so brilliantly fitted in during Flim's surgery so far. But the truth is, he's paralyzed by a sudden electric shock. It's obvious from the look on your face that this is an unexpected situation.

So.

"- Ahhhhhhh!

I plunged into the shrimp.

He shook up a knife with a torrent-like flash of light and fleshy all at once to Romnick, who was tethered with limbs by blue and white electric light.

――

His Moss Green eyes opened in fear and surprise for a moment.

He swung down from the top right to the bottom left and kicked the charge-break trigger.

Purple light explosions burst.

"- Huh!?

The power and roar that could be played swallowed even the screams of Romnick. Now is the definite time for a direct hit charge break to explode as furious as it gets.

His body blew up like a giant kicked his ass. The doll of the toy. The cloak he flew off arguing greetingly bounces and rolls on the floor like a ball over and over.

- Yay...!

It was a response from Kaishin. This time it was a complete critical hit. Charge breaks that were stuck and fed without making them defend themselves. If this isn't decided,

If it's not decided - it's not bad.

――――

My floating heart instantly chilled.

I realized it wasn't if I was happy. This is the last special attack. If you miss this opportunity, you won't see any more winning strengths.

That's why I ran.

Chase Romnick rolling down the floor without killing the impotent inertia with the full speed of the Skywalker.

Did you even hear the footsteps? Romnick's body, which was about to roll as it rolled, suddenly jumped in a carnivorous motion of the cat family.

I knew it. The last direct hit of the charge break was shallow, though. The cloak on his back is torn to pieces. I'm sure he was also granted "substitute protection". Speaking of which, even during the first clean hit, wasn't Romnick wrapped around his cape?

I needed a stop.

As much as there was nothing more, I had to give him a decisive fatal beating.

Romnick hadn't let go of the spear, no matter how much 'substitute protection' would have been quite shocked. To the man who regained his posture with minimal movement like a skilled warrior, I struck a slash without slowing down.

A white spear decorated with my photon bloods takes over and sounds delightful.

I guess I ate a second charge break and the amount of damage was mentally upset anyway. Romnick yells with his spare bouncing, flying, rugged face.

"- You're persistent, Beowulf! That would have been the last line of your request earlier! Come on, why don't you give up already...!

I guess it scratched me when I got slapped on the floor more than once. From the head of the man who peeled off his eyes and glanced at me, there was blue blood. It drips down to its feet, conveying gray-brown hair, forehead, and cheeks.

"Shut up......!

The loser and I stare at his face and throw up the voice that pushed him to death. The knife and spear pattern twist together, making a critical rubbing noise.

"I've been wearing beautiful clothes because of it, not just my blood - let your blood add to the colors too... ugh!

At the same time, I tapped a command from an artificial SEAL into the knife at hand. From the silver body, the purple light overflows.

Romnick's expression froze in amazement.

Four degrees, the knife wraps around the purple glow. Suspiciously illuminates the face of a guy hardened like a mask from the bottom.

Yes. This is the last resort Flim had taught me how to use properly, unlike the earlier electromagnetic flash pronunciation bullet (Volt Stangrenade) - the last 'trump card'.

My real 'back hand'.

"-Gather up!

I screamed to tap the boot audio.

Moments later, five weapons that were rolling on the surrounding floor jumped up at the same time as every creature.

"Nah -!?"

All of a sudden Romnick groans in the predicament that surrounded him, like I don't know.

All six large, medium, and small swords that Flim has prepared for me are linked in data. It's equipped with her developed Photon Organ, and above all, it's infused with our own Photon Blood. That's how easy it is.

What can this do - 'convocate'? If even one weapon remains in the hands of the user, all remaining weapons can be [summoned together] based on it. I mean...

"Wait."

I grabbed Romnick's spear with my left hand and immediately tried to escape. Attract him straight to the chest and use his full strength.

"I'm not letting you get away with this."

It was almost at the same time I whispered that. Five swords floating in the universe, as if they had been given tentative initial life, pointed their respective cuttings at Romnick, as they had stated.

At the next moment, fly through the universe as if it were an arrow released.

"If so, stupid -!?"

Excess haste or a moment when a less artistic dialogue spilled out of his mouth.

Five-wielded blades, like those sucked up by powerful magnets, struck Romnick from all directions simultaneously.

"Damn...... ghhhhhhhh!?

Right shoulder, left arm, back, right thigh and left foot - large, small and medium swords each pierce Romnick's body deeply.

Unfortunately, there was still a slice of the battle cloak on his back, so he couldn't pierce it to his chest. Otherwise, however, it seemed almost penetrating and seemingly enough for the cutting-edge to peek into his face from the other side.

- Taken...!

In the best response of the day, gain the certainty of victory. Romnic Photon Blood overflows from the pierced area of the sword, and the white garment stains blue and blue.

But.

"... hehe, hehe..."

Romnick in front of him laughed as he rocked his body into small pieces. The tremor was thought to be due to severe pain, but apparently that's not all.

"... you did it, Beowulf... this guy did it... I didn't know you even had these rugged hands ready... I wasn't expecting a boulder either... heh heh heh..."

Romnick stepped back, shuddering his body so hard that he was still going to fall. I'll take my hand off his spear too, and put my knife back together with both hands. You must have done a lot of damage the way you saw it, but I don't know the battle until the end - nothing else. I just swore on my chest earlier. It was forbidden to be alarmed.

"... oh, it hurts... this hurts... heh, heh, it hurts... damn... it really hurts..."

Romnick's expression cannot be seen because he is lowering his face. But the core of my voice is shaking again, and it's unstable.

- Keep going, will you fall...? No, fall, fall...!

Watching Romnick in a half prayer mood. A little bit of bronze blue blood is left at the feet of the guy who keeps his distance as he braces. With a considerable amount of bleeding, the momentum could have been lost straight through the sword stabbed in his hands and feet.

Yet.

"- But it's [really, really last] here, isn't it?

Romnick raised his face, did it, and gave him a nasty grin.

That was already the face that if the demon Mephistopheles existed, he would laugh exactly like this.

"Oh... man, I really didn't think you'd be the wingman to use this"

Romnick, who is now supposed to be more full of creativity than I am, said in a slightly clearer voice. He moves his limbs, which are supposed to hurt severely, and pulls out the sword that stabbed his body without ever having to. Whenever the blade and floor hit a hard noise, the blue Photon Blood overflowed from the wound like a pump.

Romnick, who continuously pulled off the five blades, now caught a bloody finger on the choker with a pure white wrapped around his neck - already tainted by a splash of blood between me and him.

Cut into a thousand pieces.

"And it's such a deep wound... you won't be able to fully recover from the boulder, but if you're prepared, it's something I've often said, no worries at all"

The whole body of the ridiculous Romnick was wrapped in a light lemon yellow glow. As soon as possible, the bleeding, which was spilling from the wounds on his limbs, stopped completely. On the contrary, holes deeply worn in the hands and feet twitch and become smaller.

"Nah..."

There was no way. That's definitely 'healing protection'. Plus, it's similar to Flim's Photon Organ, probably a surgically activated one that utilizes the maker Photon Blood.

"Yeah, that's right, Beowulf. This is an imitation of" Infinite Light "Photon Organ. Because I'm quite a groundbreaking invention, hey, there's a sesame artist trying to reproduce it in his own way. Actually, I know one of them."

Speaks as he licks and takes the blood off the back of his hand, as he sees through the inside of me stunned. The narrowed Moss Green eyes sparkled as the snake aimed at the prey.

"This is a HoT (Heal over Time) feature that heals just because you're wearing it, and an instant healing feature that is activated by pulling a thousand pieces. Well, there's a limit to the amount of Photon Blood enclosed, so there's also the problem that the longer the former is used, the less effective the latter will be... No, but I didn't know it would be a daze to use this one. Honestly, it was unexpected."

As Romnick put it, the phosphorescent light of lemon yellow that eventually wrapped his entire body disappeared to dissolve into the atmosphere. but the boulder doesn't fully heal the wound, leaving something to the extent that it was slashed with a knife. But that's only a minor laceration compared to the fatal wounds we had just seen. It may constrain the movement somewhat, but it appeared to be damaged to such an extent that it could be ignored for how much if it bothered.

…………

Stuffed. I thought so.

Charge breaks, special sticks, and even the gazer up that was the trump card, were deactivated.

I've run out of measures. I have no hitter left to defeat Romnick. [M]

But.

……

Power cages in the hand holding the knife. It wasn't grief or despair that sprang up from the depths of my heart, it was still magma-like rage.

I was purely angry. By the time I was cowardly, I couldn't wait for this man, who had prepared himself well enough to be hateful and hateful.

Romnick looks at my face and laughs joyfully.

"Come on, what do you want to do? You must be completely defenseless by now, right? The charge break you asked for is out of ammo. I also ran out of dazzling stun grenades. It was the ultimate weapon. This is how the accidental strike ended in vain. No more hands, no more legs, right? Now, are you ready to rub your forehead and beg for your life?

'That's why it's time to start screwing around? Can you hear this voice, Beowulf?

……

At the end of Romnick's words, a strange voice echoed in his head.

'Oh, sounds like you're hearing it right. Fine, fine.'

"Become -!?"

More of a tremor than a voice. Shall I call it stereo? It looked like an invisible speaker was groping around my head as a feather worm. The source is unknown and the direction in which it is heard changes dramatically.

I held my ear with my left hand and tried to find the source of the sound with my right ear alone.

'It's no use, even if you do that. Because this isn't a flesh voice, hey. I'm talking directly into your head right now. Do you know what I'm saying about this?

……

I'm confused by voices that sound like bone conduction in my body. If you look at Romnick, his lips aren't moving at all. I'm just watching this one sooner rather than later.

Hmm, and Romnick leaked an unpleasant laugh. Raise your hand if you're not holding the spear,

"That's okay, take your time to think about it. Because the battle is the same now. Hey?"

'Don't you know yet? It's a doctrine that doesn't normally do this kind of crap, but it's just this time because I'm asked to work. I'll tell you something special to make sure you're completely desperate. I have, "who is the artifact?"

……

The overlap between the audible voice and the sounding voice on his head was breathtaking in its content.

Fierce discomfort.

- What is this?... Could I have made a very big [mistake]...!?

'Yeah, you're right. You're absolutely right, Beowulf. You were making a big mistake. I did. Sorry to hear that, huh?'

No voice, Romnick shakes his body and mocks me. Moss Green's eyes turn his gaze as if even a stupid dog could see it.

- No way, the power of his artifact isn't 'predicting the future' or something...!

The vomiting sensation that engulfs. I unconsciously cover my mouth with my left hand and endure nausea.

to, and Romnick hung both ends of his lips wide with satisfaction.

'Yeah, that's right. Your predictions are off the hook. My artifacts don't read the future-'

Despair was told.

"You read the minds of others."