Sanzen no Souru Supina

The sight that spreads in front of you is too nihilistic.

Blunt skies and equally pushy, lead-colored waves.

The landscape along the east coast of Trantrim is unhelpfully rough (this way) and lonely.

It's a projection of Trao's meteorological landscape, itself.

Trao, who somehow managed to reach a sandy beach that was only about the size of a cat's forehead (...), was deprived of everything there.

A trusted predecessor, a companion to rely on, a girl in love - and even a holy being who vowed to protect herself even in exchange for her life.

He was helpless.

And the enemy was too, too different.

Skills. Talents. Hiragana.

No, I'm ready.

Enemy of mankind: overload.

Overlord, who should have been stained with evil enough to spit (daze), nausea: Yugadir, however, went in and confronted without flinching, even under the overwhelming Virgin's "Hiraki", who hissed himself, and put this in his hands.

"How much do you think the ideals poured on me are?"

Trao will not forget the words uttered by Yugadir, who is supposed to be an absolute enemy.

It wasn't there, such as private personal greed.

There was not a single spot there, such as the appearance of a lord who clings to his power and rights and behaves in an authoritarian manner as he desires.

Only there was a knight who tried to be pure on his own path of belief and on the "ideal (twist) of someone" that put his expectations on me.

That is what withdrew the curtain of holy protection, the guardian of England, who is already the Virgin.

Yes, Trao is understandable.

As a result, the "Virgin Mary of the Rebirth” became its prisoner.

And Yugadir didn't even put it on his teeth, like about Trao.

No, on the contrary, they noticed.

He doesn't want to hurt a promising young man in the future.

I was pitied.

So I can still live.

That breaks Trao's heart.

There is only one thing left to lose in skill and "one or the other" to overload, a powerful being.

Though he should never lose, Trao was defeated.

I'm ready for that. My heart. And ideally, yes.

'An immature mind trembles in fear (just now). But what do you think is the cause of my failure? Martyring to the ideal, that's what I mean.'

Yuga's words reflate when she is relative to the Virgin named Irisberda, who shakes her power as the "Virgin Mary of the Rebirth" and shows off "Hiroshi", which overwhelms even the overloaded Yuga.

Yuga said there's nothing between trembling in fear and what you can't do.

It wasn't just the tip of my mouth, I demonstrated that in my actions.

Differences in character as a man.

Touching on the existence too distinct to compare and its reality, Trao was deeply ashamed.

I can't be like that.

I can't live as hard as that.

That's natural as a human being.

Because overload is the ideal of people, the incarnation of Nerd.

It was converted into the mighty "Hiraki" and poured into it (...), and the conversion (Ascension) becomes.

The Poured Thread establishes the overloads.

Robust, tough, crazy pure.

However, only Yugadir, as a result of a positive pair, was comparable to Trao, who did not know the tease and the meaning.

And the way of life required of a knight is nothing more than, in other words, the “pursuit of ideals” if polarized.

Trao looked directly at the idealist.

Pure brilliance, eyelids, burns one eye and at the same time strongly reflects the shadow of what has been compared.

It could have been something of the same quality as the fear that my childhood friend, the Knight of Obedience: Selah, found in the Virgin Mary: Illis.

That's the fear created by comparison.

Disappointment with yourself.

Out wandering in the waves of narrow sandy beaches, the trao was brought to the flowing driftwood and sat down.

A cold sea breeze sweeps my cheeks so that I can cut it off, but I can't even feel the pain anymore.

Is this a setback?

Is this despair?

Trao is disillusioned because it seems that all of his efforts to the path to the knight, to the ideal being, which he has so diligently built up, have been in vain.

Like the sand on the beach exposed to the waves, I even think I'll let myself go.

No, let's do that.

That's what I thought or when I got up.

"Trao!"

That's what I heard calling myself.

It would be an illusion, at first, Trao thought.

Too much despair, I wonder if I've gone crazy.

Big Sea Serpent: The winding storm of the "Sidrellasikaya da Zu" crushed the medium-sized sailboat on which Trao and his companions rode: the Temerario, into pieces of wood.

In winter, when even drifting ice drifts, it is also unlikely unless it is a miracle, such as a high wave comparable to a castle fortress falling into a desolate sea and surviving.

That is why Illis, the “Virgin Mary of the Rebirth”, and herself, protected by her, were kept alive.

So, naturally, Trao thought the squad was completely destroyed.

What's the matter, in just a human being, no, even if he's a "spindle capable man," in that situation, he can't be alive.

But Trao was wrong.

that there were not miracles, but those who made their impossibility possible by their own "will" and indomitable spirit.

Trao! And again, I heard a voice.

Shut up, Trao sees the voice better.

There was a knight.

There was a man shouting at this one as he put a canvas on his body and grated the old man he was about to hold onto the beach.

"Sir Harvey..."

You can't scream back, and Trao snaps.

The man walks forcefully along with the old man who stepped on the beach with a firm foothold.

The Knights of Catel Hospital boasts the strongest man: Norman Burgest Harvey is not the strongest by the Focus, the Claw of Purification: Arman.

He was a man who would never give up.

"I lived a lot!

Pure white prosthetics: by Arman, Trao was embraced.

The hot tide of blood rolling behind the chest plate that evoked rock skin and the powerful heartbeat pulsating with the helices (once) told the story of the man's spirit itself, more eloquently than anything else.

"Sir Harvey!

In that heat, the frozen emotions melted (and) and shouted.

"I am, I am! No, it's better than that.

"That's okay. Right now, fine. First, warm up your cold body. First of all, anyway, he lived a lot. That's fine. That's all. I've already fulfilled one mission."

Not asking anything, Norman snapped Trao's head.

"First, take this. It'll warm you up."

If freed from the powerful arms, then Brandy behaved magically.

It was the old man, the Barrage Deacon: Burton, who Norman carried by the divorce of holding and walking in the ocean by incapacity.

"Master Burton."

"Take a look through your heart! Give me a goblet!

Burton laughs at Trao, who has been snuffed out by tears and snot, in a line as his father.

Twist a wooden long, thin barrel (Canteen) faucet and pour amber liquid.

The amber liquid with its irresistible aroma was a brandy on Catel Island.

Drinking it up against his strength, he created a muscle in his body, a passage of flames.

"Yummy."

A rough masculine baptism, the opposite of a holy meal inflicted from Illis, was, on the contrary, delightful for Trao at this time.

"Whatever it is, let's start with it."

Burton, who did it to the way it was and spread an invincible grin and unloaded it, began to set up the tent in a familiar manner.

"Look, Trao, don't be shy! Then you'll lose to the wind!

"No, you know. Even if you don't rely on the tent, the rainstorm will shine with the wreckage of that ship! And some clothes! Sushi is a tool too!

Burton screams in the breeze.

Trao yells back, too, but Burton just shakes his head firmly.

"What do you think, Sir Harvey?"

"You can't, that's"

So when it comes to Norman, who was questioned, you denied it, but walked towards you alone.

"Sir Harvey! I'm coming too!

"Trao, you wait here. Help Burton, set up a tent."

"But..."

"Do you have clothes? Let's bring out what we can."

With the canvas hanging, Norman, who said so, dived into the wreckage of the ship, which had been the temporary abode of Illis and Trao until just now, five minutes later.

I wondered if he had made an ominous noise, and the trao would witness the hull collapse and collapse by making a noise of chatter.

Oh, my God.

Until the inclination of that unnatural hull was maintained, it was also due to the grace that had been bestowed on Illis.

Trao realized that at this moment.

"Sir Harvey, hey!

But Burton was cold against the cries of a sad trao.

"So, why don't you, I said. It's okay. I can't seem to figure it out to that extent, I can't be prepared, skilled, or lucky enough, to overload. You wouldn't be the kind of guy that ends up here. Norman, the man named"

And, as the saying goes, Norman will survive.

With clothing and equipment on its shoulders, erasing the debris with the right arm that let it unfold.

"All right, now the clothes are fine. Don't even have to struggle with firewood," he said, reluctantly.

I don't make it.

Bottomless brains, your skill and absolute trust in "Hiro".

To all of that, Trao can only be overwhelmed.

But emotional movements that resemble fright are of a different kind than despair.

The size of the uninterrupted vessel, and the gall power of the different digits evoke, are laughter and hope.