Sanzen no Souru Supina

■ Night 31: definition of hero

Rattegart was feeling the aftermath of that battle in a bed of lichens.

The roar of a warcraft that crushes heaven.

Subsequent ground swings.

It soon became clear that that was Battle Quake due to combat - i.e., ground swings caused by the collision of more than 10,000 troops, the operation of large-scale siege weapons, the use of extensively exterminated systems of alien powers, and the input of giant combat organisms.

Huge mass bumps even cause earthquakes, and cause the collapse of fragile buildings.

And there's only one thing this artificial earthquake means.

Behind this forest, someone is fighting a giant bucket of stuff.

No, I knew who it was.

Isma.

I wonder who else is possible.

And if Isma, who went to Elma alone, didn't spend his enemies by secret means, there's only one reason.

To protect Elma, or to ensure the safety of Rattegart, who cannot move here.

Either way, just for one thing: to protect someone.

To that fact, the back of my chest narrows again and Rattegart is made to cry.

I regret not being able to fight with you.

For the true knight's maiden, samurai (Habe) on the battlefield along with her opponent who draped the grace of "Valkyrie's Pact" is the greatest honor and a blessing.

Because that means walking with you on your journey to glory.

Previously on Rattegart, I understood that.

But now Rattegart has a different understanding.

To live and to die is to desire to be the place of that human being.

Even if it's not on the road to glory.

Being no longer capable of fulfilling his duty as a true knight's maiden, Rattegart finally found a true snail (...) of the Nerd, which was a secret part of the family code.

Teach heroes, or men who should be heroes, and raise them up as allowed true challenges (champions).

To update this world full of uncleanness and falsehood.

To purify the world, by pure anger.

And to fill the world to come after it with justice of our true knights.

The doctrine (Central Dogma) as the maiden of the true knight, which should have been soaked in from the time of the hearts and minds, was felt faded.

For glory, for an updated world - I do not want to be next to Isma.

Not to mention I don't want to raise and serve a man named Izma as a hero.

A hero is not something you teach and build.

I can indeed grow flesh.

It teaches skill, upbringing and courtesy.

But the mind, the will, cannot teach.

That's because it's something you earn.

And will is a brilliant moment of light amidst chaos and turmoil.

Watching Isma, Rattegart finally realized it.

In purely cultured, clean and clean media (Bayichi), it is never brewed.

It's filthy, it's frustrating, it's heartbreaking, and still, only those who can't stop going down that path - will finally win.

On top of countless failures and irrevocable mistakes, finally.

So if the ideal world that Rattegart and his true knightly maidens envisioned had appeared in this world, if they had wiped the filth from this world that could raise heroes...

It means not only the race of true knights from this world, but also the extinction of the mind = i.e. the will, which keeps confronting the irrational world.

How wrong would Isma have been in the past?

How much hope would have betrayed me.

Have you been deceived by others and at the same time betrayed the expectations and trust of others?

No, Isma's not the only one who's lived that way.

Even his flesh, in the spirit of choosing to continue to fight for the achievement of the purpose of replacing it with that of Ibizus, even though he had been scorned by the sisters of Elma and Ele, also went through the way of life in which he tried to fulfill his "will" without choosing to harm himself.

Even if they scorn it for being a stupid choice.

Or even if he was swallowed up with resentment and became a vengeful ghost.

At that destination they reunited and fought with all their dying power to understand one another at its end.

I begged you, I forgave you.

And Isma's ongoing battle has been waged to take full responsibility for it.

With all the difficulties and setbacks, they still didn't stop.

That's why Rattegart fell in love with Isma.

Neither pure, noble, nor clean.

It would be neither efficient nor sensible.

Yet Rattegart has found something shinier than any of it.

If he had avoided touching the dirt from the high skies and remained a true knight maiden just looking down on the earth, I'm sure he would not have found it.

So I'm sure my mothers won't know.

For those of them who should have touched them but didn't try to get out of the clan code.

A true hero cannot be someone who is controlled, tampered with, and led.

The other way around.

It is only those whose actions change the lives of those around them who are called heroes as a result.

Izma has changed Elma, Ele, or Serte or Io's life.

No, if it had been bigger, the trends would have changed dramatically for Sibiri Sumeri, Betsarion, or even the "mad old doctors”.

I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing.

But as one woman who has been transformed by the man, I will walk with Isma until this life is exhausted.

Because I made that decision, I couldn't stop being a samurai at this time.

I wanted to share the ordeal and the sense of accomplishment in overcoming it.

Rattegart flirts, stirred by the wind that the lingering Izma aftertaste arose in his mind.

Perhaps suffering from this love for the rest of my life like a terrible after-effect increased my chest pain.

What a strange and irrational emotion that love is to be glad to suffer.

How long has it been since we slept around in our beloved memories and blankets so that we could lean against each other in the crude huts we dived into on a violent stormy evening?

Still unstoppable battle music - besides the farthunder and earthquake - Rattegart found a small figure tumbling out of the affected mushroom forest.

It was half naked.

There were traces of violence all over his body, with arms around his neck, legs, shackles and chains.

But no matter how dirty it was, Rattegart couldn't have misjudged its beauty.

It was Elma.

Why, why, here, why that look.

Different questions went through the back of my brain at the same time.

But sooner than those questions, Rattegart acts.

"Elma!"

I was screaming small by accident.

But the voices have never been heard, either because of the deafening combat music or because of Isma's rounded screen.

Elma, who was on her knees, stands up and tries to walk against Tashtoka's waterhole so that she can whip her body.

I couldn't understand what the hell was going on, but I can't overlook Elma.

To stop her, Ratte stood up as she pulled her trembling body off the bed.

I feel sorry for the hurt and shackled Elma for the overly lingering aftertaste of love running all over my body.

When you expose yourself before that at the same time, your whole body gets hot as a fire with shame, considering that you will always be enlightened about your relationship with Isma.

The only reason I'm putting it together right now is because it's an old-fashioned, itchy earthspider bridesmaid costume from Isma.

But more than anything else, the movement of the mind that guided Elma's body prevailed.

And Rattegart crosses the laying of the junction partitioned on the screen.

It was a trap.

I touched it, I thought.

It was the moment when the injured Elma turned around and his hopelessly stained eyes reflected Rattegart.

Honey, his flesh could play, restrained Rattegart like a trimochi, and rolled him to the ground.

"No, no, it's going to take. I'm surprised it's such a simple trap."

From behind the affected mushroom appeared a nauseating presence that mixed the human body with the head and feet, he said.

"Well, I guess it only takes because it's simple, huh? Yeah? What is it, Dajra? No, no, Mr. Omae failed. Look at that. It's just your neck, come on, you can't crawl around on your own. That's not Mr. Omae's prey."

From the part that was buried in the head of its head and legs, a voice like an old man, oddly tall enough for it, said.

And at the same time that Rattegart loses his blood to the name Dajra, aliens have crawled out reminiscent of deep-sea creatures.

Burrito, and it falls on Ratte's belly.

I almost screamed unexpectedly.

Because the head of that miserable creature was rather composed of the head of Dajra.

As he mocked Rattegart, who was restrained all over his body and unable to move, his petty creature glanced at his face from the hills of his chest and crawled his tentacles and tongue covering his whole body on Rattegart's skin wrapped in a bridesmaid costume.

"I said no. Dajra, Mr. Omae has failed. Yeah? Why would Ida be here? Where's the Doctor who doesn't see his own experiment? I told you it was unfinished technology. Using this surrogate, we doctors watch from anywhere. They're always taking data."

On the contrary, sometimes they deliberately feed on experimental bodies and experience their results.

The acting host (Surrogate) of the "mad old Doctor” introduces himself as such.

"It's multitasking. I'm not really here, but I'll divide my consciousness so I can do separate actions at the same time. Brain capacity is increasing. You can do it."

Hey, lady, let's get this dirty over with, shall we?

When he pulled off every leg he had unmasterfully strained to Rattegart, and pinched up what was a tight and unpleasant Dajra, the bucket named Ida put it in his body.

Then lift the flesh of the area that hits the head of the head and feet, as the gentleman takes his hat to greet him.

Inside it was an ugly death mask stuck with no eyes.

Rattegart loses his word.

"You haven't introduced yourself yet. Ida is called Ida. I'm still a sincere researcher. Is it commonly known as" crazy old doctor ”? The truth is, there's a little more elegant name--" Coolier. "

Ida continued sideways with Rattegart without words in amazement, fear and rising hatred.

"I went out to collect my new" Greed Gate ":" Parasites (Gouna) ", but it was badly damaged. I was wandering around wondering if there was anything I could at least make up for this loss.

Oh, is that your daughter from the earthspider? Dajra - I thought she was a little more of a guy, but it wasn't an out-of-the-box big deal - but she said it was the hand she always used.

I asked him how to hunt out the remaining enemies lurking in advance of the traps that made him look like a deceased or missing person. They say that figure consists of a reproduction of their memories.

Damn, it's a bad guy to say earthspider, think about such a dirty trap. I like it there, Ida. "

To Ida's discourse, which drowned over her thoughts, she nauseated, and Rattegart could finally ask only one question.

"Dajra - that miserable creature... is it?

"Oh, yeah. If you're not a head anymore, you can't talk rationally about the memory part anyway. I can't just live. Well, it's not the worst. So just disconnect and make up for what you need, okay?

It would be more convenient for you to save the knowledge that is packed. Well, what, it's a little loud, but it's like a useful book. "

I was wary of the lightness of Ida's words.

It could not have been something that should have been spoken with such lightness.

Rattegart was beginning to wonder if he had finally changed his mind about exchanging words with Ida like he had crawled out of a nightmare.

"What are you going to do with me?

"Civili Sumeri is a sponsor. So... right, I'll bait you.

Really - what beautiful skin - lady, it wasn't Ida's job to bring you here. I wish this Dajra was someone who could do a little work.

Oh, Dajra, do you know I'm just being silly? Don't break out in the belly of a human. You're gonna dip it in alcohol!

"To a trap?

"Oh, beautiful lady, you'll be listening, from the inferior creatures just now? Damn, he's a light-mouthed geezer. That's right, lure Ismagalum out and make it a beautiful trap to tease and capture, Yi, Yida."

Whether it is for excitement, or whether it is biologically difficult to pronounce, Ida makes the words come back.

If Rattegart had been the Rattegart as before, as the maiden of the true knight, he would have chewed off his tongue as soon as he had been humiliated by his captivity.

But Rattegart didn't.

I didn't want to give up hope until the end.

I wanted to believe in Isma and the future that I could embrace again, no matter what it looked like.

"You'll come, won't you? With Ida? I won't let your beautiful daughter go down like you. Doesn't hurt. Rather, Ida's treatment feels very good. I promise to give you the best shaping beauty.

And besides, if you don't, your other daughter will take your place, and I think Ida is too pathetic. "

I guess I don't really even think about that as much as I would have liked.

From Ida's flesh, the mucus began to drip off whether the excretion would become intense when excited.

In addition, Rattegart couldn't help but feel the despair of being scared and nauseated by the fate of waiting for himself when thinking about the "mad old doctor": Ida's aesthetic sense.

The word "best shaped beauty" reflexes.

But still, there was only one thing I decided to face this fate - because of my daughter, who was supposed to take my place.

The Man I Loved: Why Izmagalum challenged this great cavity of Siddhara with his life.

Elma's sister: It's for Elehimera.