Sanzen no Souru Supina

Oops, a giant finger ripping through the sky and emitting a glow (broom) falls over Aska.

"Log Solitary", which gave up intrusion (Intrude) via “Connector (Harness)", attempts a direct physical connection.

The motion looks slow, but it's just an illusion that the Log Solitary is just huge out of digit.

And -- just before the fingers of light captured Asuka, who stood against the light of Salvation, plaid the prison, was.

The wings grabbed the ascar as they tore the particles of light falling from the air.

Probably wouldn't have made it a time difference and not a second.

The Shining Wings guarded the Corpse Knight: Rattegart descended to rescue Asuka with his spear: Svennir and Shield.

Powerful Assault System Genius: The Star Crash Light Spear (Shooting Star Implement) is Rattegart's lifelong skill.

Using its ultra-acceleration capability, Rattegart rushed to me from outside the sensing range of Log Solitary, also becoming a spear of light that greatly exceeded the target's reaction speed.

Still, when the "Log Solitary" pushes through the unfolding fingers, the light strikes the flesh of Rattegart, precisely the dead.

The shining wings that protect the surrounding area disappear one after the other, fragmenting and scattering.

The sound of breaking a hundred glass finishers at a time rings around.

Aska saw Rattegart's face as she protected herself from all of it and held herself.

In fact, it was unlimitedly difficult to escape from that place on its own.

"After salvation," which could be slapped, became a real pressure, tying Asuka's hands and feet.

Two seconds until I pushed through the prison of light felt like infinity.

Really, there's a tremor running on my gut and body.

"Well... you did your best. It was wonderful."

That pale tone comes down with praise, and Aska accidentally cries.

For the flesh of Rattegart, who looked up, was burned by the light of Salvation, and was overwhelmed with face.

I can praise myself for what I said and did to a human who risked his life.

Aska knew exactly what that meant.

It is my turn to help this human being.

Aska thinks.

As if he had lost interest in the Ningens on the castle fort, Log Solitari followed Aska and Rattegart, once again trying to stretch his body and stand up.

Far down, we can see Timur and old Nazif, who have regained their freedom, begin their retreat from Castle Fort.

That's good, Aska thinks.

There is no better way to beat this disgusting bucket that thinks of itself as a god than to beat up a powerful alien.

Within that effect, they weren't there because they couldn't wield their moves.

And I noticed Aska watching the behavior of Log Solitary.

That's about what Log Solitary is reacting to.

Obviously, he changed his movements so that he could be drawn to Aska and Rattegart.

Reason for this.

It's Will.

It's the glow of Will.

This bucket is attracted to its brilliance as if it were a moth (or moth) lured into the light of a lamp, and is being followed.

I'm sure those who continue to have "will" in these guys' eyes see themselves as patients suffering from business diseases that should be "bailed out" at the top of their list.

Aska felt anger gushing at the bottom of her belly with a magma-like fever.

That is a noble rage.

And it dispelled the strengths of the flesh that its fever threatened by an unwanted "salvation" by making sure to melt the frost.

"God, you crap —— I'll slap you back in the toy box!

Rattegart smiled bitterly at Aska for saying so.

It was then that OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO,

Norman is running.

Still driving through the snowy woods.

Melting and icing have been repeatedly sorbetized. Norman's foot cannot be inhibited.

Norman is supported by the addition of Movement of Swiftness, which gives him the speed of the disease.

And the earth is ringing.

Even though it is midnight, there is light in heaven.

One is a firepillar reminiscent of Hellfire.

The other is —— a clean light that arouses fear.

It is in the apocalypse (Apocrypha), which reminded me of the end of the world.

Something is happening very, very big.

Something so hard that the struggle turns the world upside down.

Norman thinks as he runs.

"Go......"

Under a painful breath, but clearly, Trao told Norman.

The choice to trace back the Fibble River was a bitter decision.

Emperor Esperalgo: The journey of the Normans following the Mercenario and one of its parties along the shores of the Tourandod River was just a journey through hell but every now and then.

The villages, the city, the castle fortifications —— all of them destroyed, plundered, burned by relentless killing.

Menace and the others were moving in complete destruction of every stronghold that existed on its invasion route.

However, an invasion that leaves a base in the rear is at high risk of pinching.

But why —— even all the folk grass that lives there?

What the hell happens when the powerful Spindle Talents line up and throw away something called forgiveness?

I can show you a lot of different answers, but sometimes they were spread out there.

Can I fulfill this and call it war?

It was a landscape of thorough ruin, so annoying as to make it unintentionally boring by being a Norman who recognized himself as a constant battlefield.

There was a corpse that was cut and punched through his organs.

The upper and lower bodies separated, and there were bodies that could no longer find what was missing.

There was a body crushed to death by a blown walls.

What the hell happened, there were corpses stabbed and pierced by allies.

The burnt body that was skewered could have belonged to the knight of the Night Demon, according to this one.

Violence--words like that passed behind Norman's brain.

The Mercenaries, who had probably procured horseback riding at the point of absence, acted swiftly and Norman felt the distance was steadily opening up.

This one's on foot, holding a seriously injured man.

No, whether this is a good thing to describe as a serious injury.

Trao's symptoms kept him in a state of well-being.

I even managed to recover enough to walk on my own.

But it was obvious that it was far from the word fully healed.

Hole.

A deep hole, dark and unclear where it leads, was worn by Trao's flesh.

Around the wound has been reconstituted by foreign bodies as if they had been white and diastolized.

It's a hole in the garden.

and put a bullet in Trao's chest as a tension in person. Emperor Esperalgo: Mercenario —— Menace would have answered that.

But it was best for Norman, who was unaware of the circumstances, to seal it with all the Chips he could have.

So, Norman knows.

Currently, this condition is just the application of a piece of swollen skin over the wound that is likely to erupt.

And I ran into the Trantrim National Guard who came to scout the situation of the destroyed castle fort.

Just around the corner, from the dark canal to the river above ground, the Fibble returns and merges with the Tourandot.

The reaction triggered by the invasion of Menaces, however, trapped the Normans, not the Menaces of the day.

No matter how much inclusiveness beast it includes, it is a norman who quickly flattens and shows if it is a full situation, such as a dozen squadrons.

But now Norman was exhausted with the treatment of Trao and the forcible forces so far.

And if we put a strain on Trao —— and it is almost at the running of the Nerd that blows out of that wound -- he will be drunk and lose his existence.

The Trantrim Defence Force grew in numbers so that they knew the invaders existed and the wounded flesh would have an antibody reaction.

Many are fried words driven by panic, folks who wanted to demonize at night —— the Normans still don't know that fact.

But in order to be pushed by the threat, the Normans lost their skill but to follow a different route.

It bypasses growing enemy forces and finds its way into the capital.

That's what Norman said on the words, but he was also fully aware that it was a choice to be called defeat,.

If he were a ruthless commander, he would have done enough to kill Trao on the spot.

And if we inclined ourselves fully to breaking through the border line - only an escape from the trantrim could have been possible at the very least.

No, if you think calmly, purified claws: for Norman carrying Arman, that should have been the surest and only option to take.

But Norman didn't take it for granted.

Fight them all and survive them all.

That's what Norman said. He burned a trao that could hit him.

If so, you can't break yourself with that flag.

Even so, the situation is hopeless.

When I was compelled to make harsh decisions —— it happened.

Ground ringing, and the actual shaking, then the columns of the high blowing up.

"That's —— The Hell of (Crawling Inferno)"

No way, Norman was unwittingly crushing in the midst of a mutilating night.

I knew, take this move.

I've seen it.

That was only once, but with an unforgettable encounter.

"Ismagalum —— you."

It was a hell of a flame, but it looked like a light that lit up Norman's near-closed, hopeful path.