Sanzen no Souru Supina

Apply for a one-strike...

The movement of all who were crossing their claw teeth and blades stopped when the words echoed on the sandy beach, which had been transformed into Shura's garden by cleaving the battle music into which the tide (Shioi), the sword trident (Kansai) and the Warcraft Terminator intruded.

If the situation had not been so decisive, no one might have listened to the words.

However, in that sense, the timing of Trao's set-up was precisely the outfit that made the chance of a thousand encounters a thing.

Anyway, Trao gave him a name at a time when he should have been able to serve the Emperor of Esperalgo instead of the Admiral if he had just fired a blow.

Zushiri, everything that was on the spot intuitively understood that there was a precious stone on the balance of the battlefield that could never be redeemed elsewhere.

Perhaps the most upsetting thing was the namesaken Emperor Esperalgo: Mercenario, or Menace.

For one thing, to have been nominated and challenged by a completely unexpected place and opponent.

For one thing, the commander on the trantrim side, who sniffed away the resulting dramatic fluctuation of the battlefield air, i.e., ordered a frontal assault with the belief in the effect of an ambush, and captured at the edge of his eyes a man who lost up to three Included Beasts and most of his dozen men by means of an unexpected counter-attack, rode on the back of the beast, rolled over, and moved away.

And even though the ultimate thing was a decisive chance to kill Menace from the sidelines, the young of the man who appeared dignified and gave him his name, and his stupidity...

It goes without saying who was shaken by it.

Who is there but Selah, who has been humiliated by the captivity and fallen into Menace's hands in hope?

You lose yourself to the pain of being stabbed through the heart, to the sweetness of being squeezed through the breast milk, and to the storm of emotions that blows through your chest.

I can lose my blood from both hands holding my mouth together anyway.

I can't breathe well, like I did with the attraction.

Kakuri, his knees fall out and he enters the sandy beach.

A reaction of unwilled flesh, unexpectedly, missed Serra from Menace's arm.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

Though I felt clear about Trao's aim set in my throat, I saw the war situation flashing sideways, and said Menace lightly.

That battle situation analysis is probably more correct than anyone else on this battlefield right now.

The escaped commander will report or make known everything further to the superiors, or to the Trantrim Regular Army.

The temporal respite that can be gained by definitely losing touch here may be only (not), but it is on the battlefield that only a few of those few moments will change fate dramatically.

It is self-evident without having to bring up the fact that it can take less than a second to lose your life.

Except for about one, however, that which could have moved of its own free will no longer existed in this field.

Namely, besides the trao who gave him a name and applied for a one-horse hit, who could have done that?

"Choose your weapon, Mercenario. It's a battle. Sera, no, bet Serafina."

I guess it's because it holds back the fear of risking your whole body (just now) and the tremor that comes from it.

In a voice that pushed the boy to death without fishery, Trao told him.

I see, on the challenged side in the flurry of the right duel, you have the right to choose what form of battle it is.

Kah, and Trao's first honesty, Menace laughed at herself.

"Challenge, there it is. You make me cry. Boy, the battlefield isn't that sweet. What, didn't you shoot me from behind? Hmm? This situation would have done it, wouldn't it?

"It's what I found out, Mercenario. I aspire to be a knight. I'm not a coward. Like Omae."

"Carr, you're gonna be so sure about this, Trao. No, I haven't been knighted. Fine, you. Oh, no, Katel Hospital Knights Lead: Sir Burgest?

With his mouth pulled aside, he ventriloquists and Menace says.

Of course, there's no response from Norman who was told the story.

"But hey, if you're an adult here, ah. Whatever it is, until the other day, your daughter-in-law's -- whoa. Hey, is this a fake marriage? You shouldn't take your life against a kid with boobs who was hiding. Stop it, I'm sorry, boy."

Menace flies a whirlpool.

That, of course, is not really urging me to keep the duel in mind.

This is an outpost for when it actually does.

It's just a psychological shake.

"Waste, Mercenario. Taunton doesn't work on me."

Menace whistled, Hugh, to Trao, who lay his eyes on him and said out.

"Ooh, frightening. I'm serious, boy. But hey, beating me isn't much of a good thing, is it? Or what's the purpose? Shut up and miss it. If I tried being a nerd and other Knights of Catel Hospital, wouldn't that have been a delicious situation?

Before that, I wonder how you could locate us at this rate, as commander-in-chief.

Menace snaps, takes a fat breath, and gets her breathing ready, like she did last time.

"And yet again, why did you put a single hit on a bet with no chance of winning?"

"I thought I told you. I asked her to return the serafina."

Menace laughed at Trao's words, which she didn't put in her hair for a while and cut back instantly, hah, and an obvious insult.

"Hey, isn't that hard? It's not like Serra wants to come back after she knocks me down, is it? Apprentice of the Knights of Catel Hospital."

Oh, my God. Come on, deeply meaning, but spreading the grin in a way that made you feel clear and intent. Menace was right against Trao.

"Me and Serra, you see, it's a wedding contract, so sa"

Bluff, it wasn't the positive trao that shook me to that word, it was the Serafina.

Because they exposed secrets that should not be known, secrets that Trao alone did not want to know, to voice-over.

Even momentarily the upset ran into Trao's eyes, no doubt because he saw Serra lurking and causing his gaze to come and go between Menace and Trao.

Despite what was expected, the shock still struck and disturbed the fierce and profound mind of the boy.

Still, Trao says, taking the reins of emotions that are about to burst out.

"What's wrong with that?"

"Ooh. What is it, again, is your word. You know what that means? Couple contracts," he said.

"That will be void if Omae dies"

To a marriage that does not go through an oath in the church and does not go through a formal revelation, it has no effect.

Trao pinches the reason.

It didn't matter if it made sense to him.

Psychological warfare involves psychological warfare.

Don't get on the enemy's guide, it's still teaching in the coach.

"No, that's why the relationship between you two is so easy."

"That's not Omae's concern. After we defeat Omae, all we have to do is think."

"... were you such a good-looking man? What's going on?

Menace, who was blocked from talking all the time and should be able to show her anger, asked impressively the other way around.

Of course, there's no response from Trao either.

Just like Norman, Trao is also a Knights of Religion man.

I don't talk about why I came to this frontier.

However, right now, proof that I am such a person can only be proven by deeds.

"After all, it's hard to do, you"

Menace blurs in the way that she gave up too much stubbornness.

"But come on, answer about it. What is this Selah woman to you?"

To Menace's words, Selah accidentally held her breasts.

Conversation, or this word that seemed to have been uttered by Menace, who had all the threads of psychological warfare cut off, was the biggest trap.

It was a landmine that, if one mistake was made, could never get Serra back, even if she had won a single hit - no, in some cases it could have caused even more irrevocable things about that single hit.

But even for a few seconds, Trao answers.

"It's my precious woman (human). You should be a lifelong companion, a woman."

Buh, and to its too much thoughtfulness and weight, Menace blew.

But some of them took their breath.

Who else would it be?

It's Serra.

Being uttered without any cowardice conveys the seriousness of Trao.

Blurry, and unexplained tears spilled.

"Well, you know, I can't do that to a body anymore, Serra,"

"It's not Omae who decides that, I'm saying. Mercenario."

Pick a weapon.

Stuffed that way, Menace made her cheeks snap for the first time.

This kid, he tongued and maligned himself in the mouth.

But the moment I opened my mouth, I said, getting back on track.

"So... shall I shoot you early? You seem to be good at it."

Of course, I use this demon gun, Gangray.

But the regulation's on you, right?

I mean, it's a one-shot fight.

That was the condition of a duel that divided fate.