Sanzen no Souru Supina

"There is no curse that cannot be broken. I mean, I can't put together a curse that I can't break, is that right?"

The curse looks just like the structure in the formula, Izma lectured as she slipped the pen on parchment that broadened her understanding.

"A curse, more or less, has a primary meaning in tormenting the other person for as long as possible. It's a powerful, but low-level, curse that kills them right away."

If you just want to kill me, you're talking about stabbing me with that sword.

And yet I know the extent to which you bother to use a curse to kill.

Isma sighed and said so. Nonsense, he said.

"Some of the formula is hidden, but the answer is out. And then there's the curse and the underlying structure of the solution (structure).

x + y = z is this. There are a lot of things about y being unknown, x being, academic symbols between, and sometimes z being, but the basics are here.

It's easy to tell when you hide some of it with a card or something.

The part of the answer is the effect of the curse.

An already obvious formula, the procedure put in place.

The invisible part is the key to de-cursing.

If the numbers and computational symbols that we're finally replacing are Dompisha, we can only make them so we can solve them.

Well, this is a very simple example, so really, it's a little complicated. "

Well, Isma looked serious about the normal level of curse.

Hmm, and Iris embarks on herself as she takes notes.

I don't even realize that my rich breasts are crumbling between my arms and my desk and I see a snail.

"I don't know how many of these should be replaced."

So I struggle to solve it.

In the meantime, the curse continues to have an effect. You know what?

says Izma.

Illis nods.

Isma's gaze nails certain parts of Iris.

And Isma waved her finger up, saying that the advanced curse was.

"Dumb, dumb. It's obvious. The formula, the answers, the effect of the curse, the solution!

Tsubishi, and pretend to poke Iris' chest with his fingers, and stick his finger into its soft sphere.

Iris is caught in Isma's talk and flushes the harassment he has just committed.

"Doh, what do you mean, Professor"

"Don't you see? I mean, here's the thing: 'Trying to break the curse is the curse that inflicts the greatest pain'. That's the curse of the superior."

Once again, Isma poked Iris in the chest.

Like poking the core.

"I can break the curse, but I designate the items and acts necessary to break it as things that the cursed subject doesn't want to use, doesn't want to do,"

Suffer with the effect of a curse, even with a solution.

In some cases, the process of implementing the solution significantly damages the subject's personality, dignity, status and reputation.

That's the superior curse.

"I know how to solve it, but I can't. Suffer your opponent in that narrow space...... Ambivalenz"

Wow, and Iris holds Isma's hand.

Easy to understand, I admired.

Isma is desperate because she makes sure she doesn't snort.

My hands were caught in my chest.

I don't know Isma, but this was once Alma's habit.

Ashley, as a man, as a knight, has cut off this temptation. Awesome.

"So, who's planning to curse you?

Lecture, do you? Personally.

Isma stretched out under her nose and said.

"It's dangerous when someone asks me, in my room, in confidence"

"Oh, no, it's not like that."

Iris rushed off his hands.

From that story, Iris followed the curse he had put on Ashley.

And it didn't take long to find a solution.

Then, I despaired.

Because, to say the least to Illis, there was no way to solve it.

"Renunciation of Love"

That was the key to the solution. In other words, if love for the other person cools, the curse is weakened and, at last, automatically de-cursed.

I couldn't have done it.

The more days spent together and the more he knew about the circumstances, the more Iris deplored his growing feelings for Ashley.

The curse becomes fierce every day.

More importantly, it has been all the more so since Ashley figured out why she hasn't broken the curse —— that is, since she learned the fact that she likes Iris.

So I was treading on Theon and the curse he put on her, which would be very mild.

Rather, it was thought that the major factor was due to the completeness of the memories characteristic of the Night Demon.

Indeed, Theon faces Ashle as he does every day, and even as he speaks close to him, he does not show such a bare gesture.

Like a lonely blue rose protected by sharp thorns.

It could also be read like this —— I wonder if it's just a mouthful of thoughts about Ashley or something.

I was wondering if the sedan is a long-lived seed/night devil's princess play.

Even though they say they are consciously keeping their distance, such as Illis.

I still can't stand it.

However, Illis now understands that it was different.

Theon, this healthy night, the Devil's Princess, was desperate to withstand the curse that struck her with the power of her will.

Ever.

"No, Ashley, not now, so don't touch me, don't stroke my neck!

The figure of Zion, who endured the curse as he crawled, approached the chest of Illis.

From a human woman's point of view - not old, not fading, and continuing to hold the most beautiful moments - the Princess of the Night Demon, a mass of jealousy and envy, was, in fact, so eager to admire Ashle, that Illis, in a true sense, finally found out.

"Scion, calm down, cut the link, cut the link!

"Damn it... cut it! I'm hanging up. Why!"

Illis figured out the reason for this so he could take it.

Because there is a great discrepancy in the superficial and deep layers of Zion's mind.

If you're going to say something more straightforward, Scion, who gets flirted with and troubled by his love for Ashley, is just a gesture -- because he really doesn't want to leave.

I want to jump into Ashley's arms.

That's because Theon meant it.

But I just told him to translate that, just hurting this proud princess won't solve anything.

Iris had distinguished the matter.

It was all the more so because I am.

Chippy, and it was then that the water sounded.

Iris looked back to be played and felt his whole body grow gross.

Calling it an 'eye' made me feel like I could get away with it.

It was that Frama statue. However, the design is different.

Not the look of prayer, but the statue of my mother with her swollen underbelly.

The lower abdomen was the eye.

The lower abdomen is fitted with a large crystal and the crystal is injected into the interior with an iridescent pattern.

The statue of Frama was part of a scepter.

Even if you don't want to admit it, it was an 'eye'.

And so —— the sceptre is peering through the rift that leads to the sea, through the holes that have been opened in the floating islands.

Iris looked at the blue-white arm supporting the scepter.

And I saw The Eye.

Behind the deep fog that blew, those 'eyes' looked at the two.

Chip, and there was another water noise.

Scion, and Ilis exclaimed.

I was in distress. If you notice it, it's surrounded by tokens. Not one or two.

If you're aware, there's a peek in the water around you, in the shatters of the island.

Wearing 'eyes' on the scepter. They were cunning and nasty from their previous enemies.

Even so, the fallen children of the Frama, who had dealt with them until then, were merely believers, and the bearers of the Eye were also supposed to be bishops.

It was something that Illis didn't know, but in all, only twelve existed. He was an elite and Frama direct spikesman.

The bishops were the 'eyes' of the frama, and at the same time 'hands', or 'mouths', or even 'tongues'.

It was uncertain whether there were even hands and feet on the nose or not, as if it were the organs themselves, but with a unified will, approaching the two with an undisturbed collaboration.

A blue vein crawls over her bloodless, bright white skin.

It was a frightening creature.

It was just like a scepter and an arm that held it.

If the information displayed in the "Spectacles" worn by Illis is correct, the bishops of this frama will not be exposed to disease or poison, they will not receive just steel.

It is also a perpetual robbery with Frama.

Decisive ruin —— for example, until you receive a conquest (blame) by a sacred relic.

If this is what it looks like to have transcended death, what it looks like to have escaped all the hardships of this life, then I think Illis will be permanently spared that kind of thing.

But the siege definitely narrowed and the two were pushed away.

Theon can barely move.

I was bewildered by a forbidden ecstasy in the name of love, and I was unconscious back and forth.

I can't figure out what's going on.

Either way, Illis didn't allow himself to get near it on purpose either.

I didn't mean to make you look like the Bishops of Frama or anything.

Thoughtful, I jumped at the Rose Absolute rolling under my feet.

Shion, the Night Demon, has a special armor: even the fierce poison that you can't even touch if you go through Hands of Glory, should have allowed Iris, the human race, to grip without hesitation.

Though he had just awakened, he still had the impression that he was a spindler.

I was excited that the time had come to repay the Princess of the Devil at night, who had so far admitted to me as a good enemy of love, rather than blaming Iris, the curse that protected me and, on the contrary, continued to assault me.

Grasp the pattern of the long sword and shake it to the horizontal giraffe using a spring all over your body.

It should have been possible to inflict mortal injuries on every demon if it had been the Rose Absolute, the most powerful sacred relic in the Ixophone community, even without activating the moves.

After a moment, Iris felt so shocked that his shoulders might fall out.

Late, blood erupted from both hands.

After a few seconds, I finally have pain.

I didn't make the sword faint.

I grabbed a pattern made of razor and shook it as much as I wanted, my palms were ripped in that state.

Deep wounds are running heavy and the skin is peeling back.

It was so strange that my fingers hadn't fallen off.

Holy Sword: "Rose Absolute" had clearly rejected Iris.

Literally, roses had thorns.

Ahhh, ahhh, my voice leaked.

Punishment, Iris thought.

He said that if he could redeem his sins without paying any price, he would punish himself with a chronic heart.

It was painful.

Whimpering (snapping) and tears spill one after the other in an attempt to contain it.

And the Bishops of Frama did not miss this opportunity.

The Iris were quickly captured.

Ilis' desire to miss at least Theon was lightly trampled.

The princess of the devil at night, flirting with the love and feel of Ashle, was imprisoned without a glimmer of resistance.

Then what happened earlier, in one way or another, was the ultimate in shame.

The followers of Frama seemed free to merge their body tissues, whether it was the bottom fallen children or the bishops of the upper echelons, and conveniently to braid themselves back into their twisted and optimal snails.

Iris associated Amigurumi made of yarn.

The same piece of yarn, if misaligned, is transformed into different snails by the knitter's moves and intentions.

If you mix two or several threads together, you can create as many color flavors, patterns as you like.

When the mother made her daughter learn handicrafts, it was the first consolation technique to teach, similar to embroidery (shrug).

However, for the necessity of doing it between organisms, Iris felt enough disgust to revive nausea.

Because Iris himself was in this way a re-braided being with two personalities.

Again, Illis realized that he was supposed to be thrown out of nausea.

Unexpectedly sorry for Ashley, my chest is about to crumble.

And the Bishops of Frama have followed into such a heartbreak in Illis.

If we observe with an objective perspective from the outside, the figures of the rewoven bishops looked like palms of living beings, or heads and feet crawling tentacles toward heaven or something like a human de.

Body fluids that blow out of your whole body smell just like warmed milk.

The Bishops of Frama formed a pair of six, and braided themselves back into the 'hands' of two conveniences.

On two palms with a mass of six bodies, Iris and Zion were caught one at a time and toyed (hanging in there).

It was only in the first place that you were going crazy.

Frama's hand struck her body, which was torn open and defenseless.

It was a 'hand' and also a 'tongue', as Iris had just spotted it.

Boundless taste (cancer).

Whenever they crawled through his skin as he tasted it, Illis felt his sanity was breaking.

Iris and Zion were just wrapped in buds (stumps).

However, what was different was that petals working to protect the flower core were stripping their teeth off when butterflies were captured by insect plants.

Hot, and Iris can only get inside his hand.

And, in fact, Frama's hands are externalized organs (mind-boggling special digestive organs?) and had an unimaginable heat from its blue-white appearance.

Body fluids that could be accidentally blown had been increased to critical temperatures that did not cause burns.

When it rumbles or swells, it blows like a punishment for resistance.

Of course, even after Illis was weakened to make sure he couldn't resist, his body fluids were poured with an unintentional, more shady action.

The two princesses who will be attacked will never know, but this was a kind of human and personality modification organ.

This is called "furnace" - you may call it that.

The spitting fluids of Frama's hands were a catalyst containing high concentrations of "twist," and were various organs that infiltrated from the skin and thereby altered the body and mind of the victim.

Goddess of Mercy: As the new princess witch of Frama, the idea was to tailor the two beautiful princesses.

However, once Gran did not have the technique of directly shooting in high-purity "twists" as he did with Focus: Dextrus, but instead pressed for alteration via fluids, the catalyst - it took a ritual over time.

In that heat poured to alter itself, Iris sees hallucinations intermittently.

Iris understood that this was an attack by Frama.

To corrupt a strong willed "spindle" capable man into his own family.

He said it was a manipulation to cage the users of Spindle - because Spindle is a solid expression of "will" - with an exceptionally strong self-border compared to just humans.

He said it was an attempt to dive into the interstitial space of his mind while waving his body as a sensory instrument and causing him to abandon his "will".

But even if I knew, there was nothing I could do.

I wept over my weakness.

Things were worse with Scion.

The Night Demon is a species that has strong resistance to all state anomalies.

Disease, poison, to say the least, also exhibits extreme resistance to the inertia of the system that acts on the spirit.

That is because the eternal curse of life, elaborated on the seed, even works against spiritual change.

So the attack of this hand is harder on the Night Devil, or if it is a superior species, it is more often completely deactivated.

Even if they're obsolete, even if they're gods.

If the legend tells us for sure, the finest night demons are powerful beings who can cross each other more than one strike at a time, if only to the extent of the subdivinity of the region.

And Zion was one of the true ancestors of the devil that night, the direct line of Scarbelli.

But all this time things were different.

Frama used the curse of love cast by Illis as a stepping stone to the Scion cage.

You can put it this way.

The depth of Theon's love for Ashley, and the temperature and smell of the thinker, were used as catalysts.

Surfactant.

Should I recall the phenomenon that occurs when soap is thrown into the interface between water and oil, two liquids that should never mix?

Ilis was reminded that if a curse already deeply rooted in his heart had been used as a circuit, and if he had allowed contact there, he could not hope for resistance or anything else, not to speak of a superior night demon.

Just like the thunder that fell on Rock Mountain runs the crack, it gets a passage and runs. Deep down. of the mind.

No, this was also the technique mankind had forged to ambush supernatural beings more than in ancient times.

By naming, telling stories, and worshipping (mazuma) so much power against what can only be considered a natural disaster, we work out mythical circuits, attacking them as stepping stones, or taking them into our own religion.

Because of this talent, mankind could be the champion of the earthly world by suppressing other powerful species.

We link every event to ourselves and transform it into the basis of our being.

Perhaps I could rephrase that.

He said it was the process of refining the "twist" on the subject.

In other words, imagination —— empathetic power, by.

The manipulative manipulation was being used backwards.

And in a hazy consciousness, Iris has arrived at the assumption.

Perhaps this is a reproduction of the trick Frama herself took with her.

of the past that it was thus tailored and demeaned.

of distant oblivion told in mythology.

I was poured countless "twists".

Theon is trapped in dreams --.

of the Night Devil's Dream and the so-called Humanity. That is decidedly different.

Full memory - for a species called the Night Demon with its racial characteristics, the function of dreams as a processing device for memories and emotions makes little sense.

Because in the same sense that humanity captures the wine glass in front of it, the demons at night can reach out to their memories and regenerate to drink up the poured wine.

And its reproduction accuracy and control become so skillful that it becomes a superior species.

As long as you are determined to drown, you will be able to enjoy your favorite performances as much as you like.

Until I was awakened by a thirst for blood.

However, it was also the cause of the madness of many of the demons on the nights they lived for so long.

The past, which is reproduced with the same precision and sensation as reality, is no longer different from reality.

So many nights the devil eventually loses sight of the border between reality and dreams.

The better I remember, the harder it becomes to resist the temptation of its cradle.

May the dawn not be remembered in the spring.

Like falling asleep in the fall (siesta).

Therefore Zion has strictly admonished him not to shrug his feet in the tomb when his own veins were in deep trenches.

Don't stop to just bind (like this) to memories - to escape.

But every time I fell asleep, no matter how much I refused since that day, when Overlord and the fruitful Coming King: A Night at Gran's Cemetery, that memory began to sneak into Zion.

It is a memory of my first encounter with Ashley.

Gran and his granddaughter: Sacred relic of the saturated "Thread" by Almastella: Theon stood up to save Ashley, who was mediated and shot into "Dextras".

At the price of dignity, I took everything.

If there was no fear, it would be a lie.

Even Zion was new to everything.

I desperately ate to eat up the roots of my teeth that were horrible and would no longer fit.

The Night Devil cannot forget his memory.

So the wounds of the atrocities that have been vibrated by that body will always be remembered.

Hounded by Nest like a beast by hand, Ashle pushed Zion down.

It was laid up rampantly.

I was prepared to accept everything, but I was instinctively frightened.

Ashley, manipulated by Nerd, held down and opened his knee with horrible force.

That's how I mouthed him to devour the revealed Scion.

Dignity was pulled away, secrets were revealed, and stamped strong and many times.

But it wasn't the pain that really cornered Zion.

It is the reality of this era that upper-class marriages meant political tactics, and that it was also the scene of important manoeuvres in the bedrooms of men and women.

It is at a time when, as husband, it was clearly contained in the power of the ruler, no matter how he appeared to be laid on his wife's ass, whether or not he could be made to hear a woman in the bedroom, on the bed.

Those whose wives can't even do what they want, they don't deserve to be traders.

That's what was thought.

I have no true friends in the state.

The relationship between the people and the exchangers is the same.

And the king should rule, the first people were wives.

Therefore, it was taken for granted that it was the duty and instrumentality of the exchanger to pass through its finesse and manipulation.

Cruel, but only. Because it's real.

Ashle was, in that sense, a young but fully learned aristocratic manipulation.

In his lifetime, Eunice literally dedicated herself to working out.

The flesh was also terribly competent as a tool for doing so, with seemingly soft impressions and backs.

And that night, Ashley was manipulating Ashley as a tool for subjugating the opponent, a "twist" filled inside Ashley.

A curriculum of interrogation and torture was even set up as a training requirement for the Holy Knight, who even had the right to a summary trial.

Understanding the human physical structure Anthropology and techniques of warfare to destroy opponents, life-saving medicine and techniques of interrogation and torture that frustrate (lottery) the opponent's "will" are systems that exist next to each other.

Naturally, Ashley was also learning that technique.

accomplish sacramental service by any means, that is, that is.

The world isn't turning just because it's clean.

It was all exercised by Zion.

More importantly, Nerd, which is shot in by Ashley, flirted with Zion.

Ashle's cry, "maliciously, why is it going to happen," was not so incorrect.

Until he said, "As much as he despises you, he will blade himself." That is enough for Ashley to say.

That's why Theon gave himself to Ashley.

I was going to be ready.

It was felt by Scion to be injected with heated steel until incandescent.

It was a tremendous amount of energy.

If you're not as tall a night demon as Zion, you can't stand it once.

As the Nerd suggests, it must have turned out to be livestock.

It was full of Him trampling on the dignity of his opponent, subjugating him, and forcing him to give in.

It was poured into the body, via every place.

Without the mercy of fine dust.

Every time he was shot in, Theon turned himself against the bow.

If I had bathed in that as it was raw, I would not have even been safe with Scion.

Theon endured that merciless ravage (carpet) because Ashle struggled desperately to manipulate the impulse when it came to that rampant horse.

The skin of my hand was torn off, and even though the blood seeped, I was able to squeeze the reins, and he kept looking at me with an abscess.

The straight-minded mind that thinks of Zion has influxed into Zion along with Negative.

That's not why I was mauled by The Nerd, but I could feel it on Zion that Ashle loved me.

That alone won the warmth of filling my heart more than shame.

On the contrary, it even seemed to Zion as if Ashle and herself were true lovers to each other.

I would have embraced Ashley so deeply if I had noticed.

They called me by name and called me back.

If Ashley was liking herself and wanted it again as well, I knew I couldn't refuse.

And I was trapped in the memory of this night.

Even after he decides to love Ashley, declares so, and clearly tells Illis that he's supposed to be his lover, Zion can't escape that night's memory.

No, rather, every time we go over the night, our memories become clearer, and the 'twist' that remains shot into the inside of Scion is razed like a sea of winter storms.

Suffering like being set on fire all over your body. Chest pain. Love.

And it also appeals to the blood of the demon in Zion's old night.

I want that one —— and.

A drop of that blood, a piece of flesh, until it was in one of the bone pieces, he wanted to be one.

It's worse than that one leaving like this.

Otherwise, he whispers in Zion's ear that he will twirl.

In the time of perpetual robbery, imagine only one, the self left behind.

At the mercy of the cruel sensuality that memory reproduces, Zion is now being flirted with by such a "twist" that it may transform the existence of an individual.

Without realizing that is one procedure of the ritual of transformation of the new Frama into a witch, triggered by the hands of the Frama.

Illis thinks.

I guess I've already touched myself, you know.

I broke the sea surface and it appeared.

Frama, I snapped unexpectedly.

Finally, the true honor of the evil god appeared.

That was such a pathetic figure of a goddess.

Countless believers flock to flesh reminiscent of the giant oxen.

To be saved —— a flock that renounced "being human” at the price of not being threatened by disease, wounds, and therefore anxiety.

(Uggs) He looked like a parasite to Illis.

The goddess was holding an asymmetrical number of arms, left and right, a mass of energy swirling from her belly to her chest.

Only Spectacles works correctly in a hazy vision, and it is judged to be the "Frama's Haze".

It's not really Focus, it's constantly activated —— it's unstoppable in your own will —— it's alien, and it's a state anomaly (Bud Status).

Many of the mighty aliens demand not only a "spindle," but a huge price to pay for its maintenance.

They will literally cut off the flesh and bones.

Iris broke his chest in the anguish that Frama had continued to impose.

But the only one who truly appealed to the mercy of England (Lembin) was herself as a figurehead who left the shadow of an era that was once a messenger of salvation.

He couldn't even heal the wound on the mask that had been stripped from his face, and he covered that face with his hands so as to embarrass him.

How much she has been hurt in the course of the cursed eternal life.

That's too much for Illis to know.

Maybe that was also because of the mental link, the circuit, that is beginning to tie between the spirit of Frama and the teasing (cancer) that is being encouraged to converge and continues to be added to the Iris himself for that matter.

I'm sure Frama's appearance looked like an oasis springing up in the desert to people.

Inevitably they arrived to drink even a sip of water, trying to be saved.

The inexhaustible, gratuitous, infinite love of suckers —— there is no such thing in this world.

There can't be.

But that's why love is honorable.

We must desperately protect them.

It's something that needs to be handed down because it's hard to run out.

If you don't give it, it's something that withers.

Yet even sought, coveted, and taken away, Frama became an evil god.

Exposed to irresponsible and never tired twists.

What makes Illis so annoying is why he left the role to the framers alone.

Why didn't someone come along and dig a well for him?

Didn't you try to grow a forest, a meadow that waters the desert and receives rain?

What was God doing?

Without trying, once, when Illis was still a nigger known as Alma, the line that he threw up in the presence of a desolate, lonely fatherland, as it were, changed only the temporal system and spilled out of the mouth of Illis.

Then, unexpectedly, the man who once plotted Alma and, on the contrary, in the past led a revolution that was a mausoleum and a trigger for the demise of his country, Ignaš: the words of Nahatwerg, passed the back of his brain.

"It is not God who saves humans. Only the cause of man can save man."

Oh, and I figured it out as soon as I could.

Because God didn't save us, Frama said that this poor human being tried to save himself.

My former grandfather, the Coming King: As Gran did.

And also, equally too ill (ha), Illis learned strong anger.

Knight Who Left Frama Behind: Ze-No and the Angel of Fire: To Aigis.

I was wondering what you were doing until Frama fell.

I asked one of her what she was doing.

"I want to leave you alone."

Only how long did I hear Frama.

A pure white angel appeared as if made of plasma, before the eyes of a frama that covered his face with both hands and sobbed.

At a glance, Illis found out that it was Projection (Project Tile).

Descent King: It is about a mass shadow painting of the same reason as Gran.

"Hit me."

It didn't tremble the atmosphere —— I mean, it wasn't audio —— it was the voice.

A mass of thought poured directly from the hand that touches the whole body.

Iris gasps at the power of too much propagation.

Flirted by the hands ravaging the flesh and the falling of the ideas of the transmitted Frama himself.

Frama was petitioning.

He wants me to regain the sanity I was deprived of.

The stripped silver mask -- the Seraphim filament -- is a sacred relic to know the exact future. And the missing ones -- "Azrael" -- the power to rise to the blur of oblivious life and return it to the way it should be.

power to correct the ambiguity given to Frama ——.

And

"Wake up, deny, run..."

A grieving petition was heard clearly.

That's Frama's own voice, flirting with Nerd.

She doesn't want a place like this.

Illis understands.

Frama can't control his own flesh.

He said that the flesh had already been occupied by the Twist, and that his self as a frama left only marginally, had been made to experience tens of millions of times, like torture, the trick in the name of the untraceable "salvation" that the incarcerated flesh carries out against others.

But whoever, whoever, rightly perceives his angry heart, does not have time for the Iris.

Oops, and the crucible in Frama's abdomen roared.

A huge, awesome fusion of energy was swirling around.

Organs to literally integrate completely heterogeneous beings into one.

Though people used to flock to the framers, the Negative is no longer resistant to the framers.

Most of them were trying to capture Scion.

Let's merge.

of all the people who profess their own = frama, as any symbol, princess witch, as the symbol that will preside over the next hundred years.

Illis growled.

Like a beast. I regretted it. I hated it. The world.

All the power to "do so" them, Iris, Zion, and Frama.

And I screamed to pray. The name of just one man.

That day, at the bottom of the tomb of the Royal Ignache, to that centre guarded by the armies of 10,000 dead, the man jumped in on his own.

Not for duty as a holy knight.

- I know because it's Iris who exchanged Negative.

The name of the man who fought for me risking his life to save the one he loved.

Ashle --.

And the flash cut through the foggy night sky as it echoed its cry.

An ultra-high mass of heat speared as it pressed the ambient atmosphere, shooting Frama's Projection.

It can't even be misleading.

It's a dragon spear: a flash of "Shivnir".

Fallen angels who continue to suffer cruel beatings: The Projection as a Frama became a grain of light and scattered, and its giants turned against it greatly.

A small sun exploded overhead like a tatami.

Shining Scorched Ball: "Raydiant Arder".

Princess of Alam: It was Aska's alien powers.

Even though it served as a jailhouse = 'hand' for various altered organs, the bishops of Frama, who were originally 'eyes', exclaimed and suffered with a cry that did not seem to belong in this world.

The power of restraint loosened, but there was no longer room for Ilis or Zion to just get out of there on his own.

But Illis did see it in the corner of his obscure vision.

A man appeared in a ship on a shoreline and put a spear on the evil god.

A pagan princess in a beautiful costume runs through the side.

You're here to help me again.

I just thought so, I was crazy about myself being saved.