Sanzen no Souru Supina

■ Fifty-fourth Night: The Dream tries

It was almost at the same time that the gunfire reminded me of the thunderbolt and the bloodshed.

Buh, and a deep red drip scattered across Menace's cheek.

"We'll do it. I didn't know you'd hit me. Let me see, Trao."

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, and the roaring (howling) and strongly incensed drug smell that disappeared with the aftermath was evidence inspired by Menace's Spindle.

"He's a straight man. Omae, you'll be a good knight."

I didn't see any expression in the sunlight I plugged in, just looked up at the heavens and Menace said.

Fluffy, fluffy, and shaky feet.

Trao has no words.

Because.

Because there was a deep hole in its thorax.

Blood filled his heart sprayed from his mouth.

From both knees, the boy is crumbed.

"Seriously, Ze, he was a big man. Haz's bullet with an overwhelming mass: I was orthogonal to El Ease Tails. Ordinary arrows shatter. But Omae's obsession delivered the blade to me. Wounded. Let's leave this wound behind. Even if I forget that there was a man named Trao Gallius, my flesh will never forget me."

As he exhaled heavily purple smoke, he breathed and Menace returned his gaze to the trao.

"If he had lived, he would undoubtedly have become a knight who would have kept his name in history"

And he looked down upon the boy that drowned in his own blood, and let Menace spare him.

The life of a trao to be lost.

"But hey, it was too straight, Trao. Omae's aim was too precise. I was too honest. So ballistics seemed to be in my hands. If my prey was a demon gun: not a gangster ray, not a bullet El Ease Tails, or if Omae was a little more cunning man, maybe it was a hit."

That's it, Menace turned her back on Trao with a curl.

While trying to keep the urge to rush out, but it doesn't, Norman thought.

That's what Menace said about the eye of the match.

Menace saw Trao squeeze the tractor and waited for Tai Ya (Quarrel) to be released before using the gun.

I don't know if that was to identify the ballistics of Trao's unleashed arrows, or the fairness, handicap, to bridge the difference between the superior performance Focus and Crossbow.

However, the distance fifteen meters from each other is a must-have distance for a crossbow, and it doesn't take two seconds to pack up time even in melee combat.

Not to mention the fast flying arrows.

Indeed, Norman has even performed a crossbow from close range with his arm, or purified claw: an artwork that plays in Arman.

But it's a divine work that transcends mankind's moves by shooting arrows flying at high speeds, shooting them straight off with bullets, and yet hitting enemies with them as well.

Tools don't make Focus amazing.

The user's training and consequent skill of a man named Menace is out of range.

No, that's not really why Norman can't move.

The way Menace behaved was due to the fact that a one-handed tribute to Chivalry was too perfect.

If Menace had done small work or tried to trao in an outrageous way, Norman would never have allowed it.

But it wasn't.

The opposite was true.

It was a perfectly unmistakable, unbeatable ride and its consequences.

Menace, as declared, slaughtered the trao with one blow.

Furthermore, he didn't move a step or two until he himself announced the end of a single strike to his astonishment.

Not quite.

I didn't wander around.

That is proof that I have no dust suspicion of my skill and victory.

And it's a manifestation of a squarely respectful respect for the relative trao.

Religious Knights man judged above all by deeds: for Norman, it was an intrusive commandment, no as a knight, appealing to pride as a man.

Trao's idea of doing it, setting up a one-horse beating, bore the blind spot of Norman's thought.

As a Knights of Catel Hospital, the beginning of things lies in the ploy of the Esperalgo faction, which is a sold fight, so to speak, and it is not as if there is a need to stick to the battle of squareness.

Members taken by outrageous doings: Retrieving Serafina, that's all I'm glad about. Haz.

However, this was not the case for Trao.

The flesh couldn't be the only way to get back the girl that I fell in love with and loved.

My heart, no, it was my heart that had to be restored.

Then that was the role Norman expected from Trao and was convinced that no one but Trao would be able to do it.

It's just that Norman overlooked the fact that it was on the battlefield and included a "one-strike" among the options that a young knight apprentice boy could pick for it.

Norman does not intend to lag behind the generals of the National Powers in strategic, tactical, and battlefield considerations.

Rather, on a tactical level, I am proud to be winning as someone who often goes to the battlefield on the ground.

But I had to admit that I had missed it and the cleverness of my heart between men and women, and, above all, the chivalry that was strongly rooted in a man named Trao.

My regret for admitting to a single hit was on my chest, shuddering.

The weight of it stopped Norman from going.

But forgiveness emanated from something completely unexpected.

"Come on, let's go. At Trao's. Maybe I still have some helpful eyes."

Menace told him as he sucked his blood and stepped on the heavier sandy beach, strangled by a trao of demon guns: another clove of gang rays headed for recovery.

I didn't even try to keep my eyes peeled, but it was telling me that Esperalgo didn't have the will to attack when it came to rescue and first aid.

returned to me all the time, and on Norman's back, who ran out like he had been bounced, Menace continued.

"Bye. Uh, it's gonna be a lot. That bullet, El Ease Tails, is special. Try. Try it. The way of life in Soytz. The journey I've lived. I wonder if I can relate to the dream I have in my chest."

Awwwwwwwwwwwwwww...

Screaming like ripping silk.

Until then Serafina, who couldn't even breathe properly like she was stuffed in the throat, shouted like crazy.

That's because of a phenomenon that I don't think belongs in this world that attacked Trao.

If you describe it by one thing, it was a running stream of light blowing up as you drew a spiral from an empty perforation in its thorax.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa"

And it also burst out of Trao's mouth.

It's like blood.

"Traao!! Hold on, hold on!!

I wake up the boy, as Norman rushed to call.

But there's no response from the boy.

Light shines, even from the back of his eyes, which are all spilled open.

What, what is this, Norman screams unexpectedly?

If you touch the blown light, it adhered to the body like a blood tide, causing a phenomenon similar to intense intoxication.

Norman has already bathed it in a few places.

Is this a drug - no, a psychotropic substance?

That was instantaneously determined only by the evidence that Norman was an elite member of the Knights of Catel Hospital, and also by the fact that he resisted the pollution caused by it, likewise, because he was the bearer of tough willpower.

"Menasu! Ooh, menasu!! What is this? What did you do?!

"Don't panic, you can't do that in something like that. I'll tell you what. Listen carefully."

What an answer Menace gave to Norman, who shouted like a lion.

Demon Gun: Talk while keeping Gangray in a dedicated holster.

"I told you, he's... he's gonna try El Ease Taylor. He said he was gonna try, and he sold it to me."

"Attempt?! Try?! What?! What are you trying?! Whoa, whoa, whoa!

Norman inquired further as he desperately held back the erupting light.

Apparently, the Focus, the purifying claw: Arman will not be invaded by touching the light.

"This guy said it too, Dana the Norman. It's Dream. Do you really think that Soviet Dream and the reality of Soviet itself will make sense? Try the bullet."

"Do you want to connect with Dream?!

"Apparently. I don't know. I mean, all the people I tried, they just disappeared. No, it's a vanished haz. I don't really remember. I desperately need to inspire the Spindle. Literally, because it disappears from the world (...)"

I don't know. The guy who sold it to me said so. Yes, sir.

"Bloom Tide. No, hey, what's the hard word? I can't remember."

"Bloom Tide" huh?!

"Anything, when you lose Dreams, they become Dreams. So, uh, it's kind of a shame. I remember. I'm gonna turn the spindle, so wait?

Saying, Menace put her finger on her forehead and showed her a trick she desperately remembered.

Norman understands.

He said it wasn't a trick, it was a real effort.

Because the stream of "Hiragana" swirling around its forehead reflected on the light and saw it.

"Anyway, the guy who ate him is going to be tried. In my own Dream. When you lose, you get eaten and become a Dream. If you win, you'll move on to the next stage, or something. I've never seen him win. Maybe that's bullshit."

Menace remembers, even sweating on her forehead.

"This bullet and demon gun at my disposal: When Gangray came, the bullet was seven rounds. They said there were thirteen shots at first. I hear the owner changed a lot by the time he came to me. Funny story, what do you mean, you only have odd and prime numbers in your two-shot bullets? Well, no."

Anyway, the man who sold it to me... to Irlnich, right?

"Depending on how you use it, you can even kill“ God. "You're laughing, aren't you? Too much fun. I thought so, too."

But if, Menace said.

In a tone that includes pity somewhere.

"This is it, it works, seriously. Even the overlords, no, are they because they are poured with a huge amount of Dreams and Negatives? Anyway, it's like I stuck an arrow in a leather bag filled with water in a bread. If you do, you'll break it."

So, I've been buried with this guy for about four pillars.

The overloads, right?

"What... and..."

"It's just, well, it's the first time I've used it for Ningen. I kind of think there's a tokoro. Let me try."

"You!

"All of a sudden, you see, if you don't hold it down, you're gonna play it? Uh, hey, isn't Counter Spin working? That move to overthrow the anomaly. Give it a try."

Norman is compelled to obey Menace's irresponsible demands while remembering his momentary fury.

However, if it is a phenomenon caused by Focus, it may be possible to do so in the Spindle.

Norman refined and struck his own torque, the opposite of the flurry of light that flowed out.

As soon as, galloping galloping galloping, the sparks scattered as spinning gears were forced to mesh with each other.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!!!!

"Ooh, wow! I knew it would work, Counter Spin!!

"Menace, why?! Why, do this!! One hit, and with your skill, more, more peace!

Receive and answer Norman's roar with the expression that Menace is in trouble.

"I don't care if you ask me why I did it. 'Cause I thought I needed it."

And that's it, Menace dropped her gaze into the serafina.

At some point Serra's neck, which could only go in like a child and keep screaming, was wrapped with a collar, and there was an iron chain tied together.

"Well, if you want to be emotionally convinced, let's just say that... a woman who wants to be her own wife remembers the death of an old man. So, how pathetic. I think it's a good idea to let him forget.... What do you say, cool?

You aaaaaaaaa!! Now it is time to ignore Norman's cry that Menace tells his legions.

Symbols.

"Come on, don't worry, it's war," he said.

And I won't turn around again.