Summoned Slaughterer

"If that's the case, I'll accept you"

"Thank you"

Malphas proceeded through the woods to hide himself from one, the other beasts, and came to the former Swordlante.

He was restrained in both hands, but managed to get Wepal to catch him, and he also gained recognition for joining the army of the Demons.

The human castle that took over. That's where Sarg, the beast man who rode in a while ago to save the king of Swordlante and the Beast tribe, fought and was killed collectively by an intruder, one, two, three, but neither Wepal nor Malphas had any reason to know that.

Wepal, sitting on the throne, stared down at Malphas, using it as it was between his eyes.

"I just want you to tell me what you saw when you went to human town, what you didn't know, okay? And I need information about a guy named 123."

"Okay."

On the terms Wepal put out, Malphas didn't show a glimpse of thinking.

Though Wepal seemed to think nothing of it, his thoughts inclined in the cheap direction, but he inadvertently can't trust that the turner showed up at this time, even though he accepted.

"By the way, that beast tribe and elf... I wonder if there were any humans there. What's wrong with them?

Malphas also hesitated to respond to this question.

"... he said he would rely on human beings, one, two, three, because he couldn't beat the Demons"

"I'm planning on attacking a human town, but maybe I'll be fighting my former companions, right?

"Or I don't mind. If you're going to fight... and my sister won't come to the battlefield... maybe..."

Off his gaze, he looked at the floor and saw Malfus holding both hands with a clutch, Wepal credited him as an honest child. I guess that's how the antagonism against one, two, three comes from. For that matter, it seems simple.

"Well, let's get you on the battlefield once you show your strength and sentiment."

The look on Malphas' face raised his mouth firmly shut and waiting for Wepal's words.

"In human country, we investigated a place called Vichy. I'm going to push you there in earnest, so I'm going to have you join that offensive army. So show me you can be of service to me."

"Okay. So when are you leaving?

"Tomorrow. The attack begins tomorrow."

"What?"

Not knowing what it meant, in front of Malphas staring at himself, Wepal slowly stood up and raised his hands big.

"Answer my life and show me the way to his land far away"

When I wondered if a small black dot had appeared, it quickly became a giant plate of three meters in diameter, and the top-surface, as black, was spreading towards the wepal.

"This is one of the dark magic. It's a transfer gate. Now we can send soldiers from this base all the way to the human country at once. So we can leave tomorrow and suddenly attack."

To Wepal, who put his arms together and looked down proudly, Malphas asked with a true face.

"With this, even during the first attack... no, we can get directly into the towns of one, two, three..."

"Ugh...... Well, there are a lot of conditions. I can only go to Vichy now."

It got a misleading tone, but what Wepal said was true. I was taught dark magic by Reaper, and I was able to create a transfer gate that I couldn't even use one, two, three. However, due to due diligence and amount of magic, it was only possible to relocate to a place where Wepal had pre-set a landmark or where Wepal had been.

Besides, the size I'm opening right now can be the limit. Depending on the size of your body, about one to three people are the size of the limit, so if you accidentally want to get out in front of one, two, three people, you'll end up being killed in turn at the tip of the transfer.

So in order to prepare near the human country, we were to attack Vichy first. Until then, I have nothing to say to Marfus, who treats me like a graduate of Ichihei.

One girl looked out of that darkness as she was satisfied with how Malphas was impressed with the metastasis gate with its pitch-black mouth open. I belong to the army of demons, Ferres.

"Ah. Was it Master Wepal after all? They're all surprised that the barracks suddenly have gates."

"Oh, yeah? I'm sorry. I am. Can you finally lead him to the barracks? You can take off your hand."

"Ha ha. Come here, then."

Sulu, was taken by Ferres, who came out of the gate, and Malphas also surprised to go through the gate.

Wait a few seconds, make sure there was no change, then Wepal closed the gate.

"Phew..."

He opened a great gate in glory, but he takes 80% with his magic to open, not to mention maintain. Wepal deposited his body on the throne in a sense of fatigue accompanied by mild dizziness.

"Apparently, you're using it."

"Reaper... is that ironic? I'm exhausted and I'm in a chair."

"What are you saying? It's a big deal, even if it's only available so far."

A skinny man in a swallow tail suit. Reaper stands beside the throne with a sticky laugh with Niyaniya.

"You're using one, two, three, right?

"He has his talent. In fact, we can't use metastases."

He doesn't even know why one, two, three can't use metastases, that's Reaper. Wepal wasn't convinced of one thing right now, though Reaper explained that the image of something called "darkness” and his qualities also change the expression of attributes.

"So, what are you doing here?

"I'm here to say goodbye"

"... yes. Where are you going and what are you gonna do next?

As a Wepal, I believe it is not preferable for more people to be able to use similar magic, but I do not have the art of tying the existence of a Reaper.

"Everywhere, rather than everywhere. Apparently, because the world is approaching my ideals. It is the demons and the union of humans who begin to dispute. Many lives will be lost."

Wepal doesn't try to open his eyes to the reaper, who nods his tongue and laughs creepily.

Bad taste.

"I would ask you not to say that. Because this is my job, too."

"I'll thank you. A demon tribe who was a shader soon turns into the protagonist of this world. That was the grief of many ancestors..."

But that's not Wepal's wish.

The battle begins, but we are not looking for a world where the battle continues.

"If the demons can unite the world, the world will be peaceful on the contrary. That way, it won't be the world you prefer?

"I see... then let's just say we think about something again. Well, good luck with that."

The figure of the reaper disappears, and silence spreads between the sights.

The space on the stone walls, with its painful shadows hanging over it, is dark, as if it represented the mood of Wepal.

"I'll do it. You wear stigma, but you make war lunatics like you."

I get up in a mood for a body where my magic has recovered little by little.

Full invasion starting tomorrow. From there, a new demonic history begins.

☺☻☺

"It's nice to see it from a different angle again that you're looking at it this way instead of getting an archery..."

Roughing his nose, Origa stares at one, two, three who are archaic to the Knight of Orson Grande.

The first place was indoors rather than outdoors due to the weather, which was more than likely to rain. It is a place that is originally used as a dance hall, where they were previously given up for blood festivals by one, two, three, when some of the knights rebelled.

Now it's cleaned up beautifully, but there's a rumor that I saw a ghost with no arms or legs at night.

The floor of such a hall is carpeted, not as much as a tatami, but quite useful as a cushion.

Still on a stiff floor, the knights, who were forced to practice passivity all morning, made moles in their bodies, but also took their afternoon archery seriously. I take off the armor I always equip, put on thick simple clothes, and sweat hard.

"Too much power. Can you lift this guy with only your arm? Feel the flow of strength with weakness. Naturally, I can control your powers. Develop the skills to move your opponent's power as you wish."

One, two, three, seldom yell when giving guidance. Explain lightly and, in some cases, describe the movement in plain sizing, and then let it experience and prove it.

If you look from the side, such as letting them grab their index fingers and throw them off with one finger or just stroke their shoulders and make them fall, they are eyebrows, but their eyes are desperate to learn something from one, two or three movements diligently, as all knights experience it first.

Where is Origa looking at such a one, two, three, he stuck at the entrance door entering the dance hall.

Several times it took a samurai or a civilian to get through, but no one tried to speak up, and Origa was also immersed in her own world in total disregard of their presence.

There was a strange voice when the body was opened and the chest of one, two, three waving arms was wide open, or when the knee was glistened when he was showing an example of passivity.

The samurai, who had been lucky enough to pass at that time, took as much distance as possible and passed by quickly.

"Were you here"

It was Queen Orson Grande Imeraria who spoke to such an oliga.

"Oh. Your Majesty. What's wrong, sir?

"I heard that Mr. Oliga, along with Dear One, Two, Three, went into the castle today, and I was looking for him because I wanted to talk to him. One of the samurai told me that she's here, so I came to check on the knights because it's a corner... what are you doing? No, more than that, we're talking, so turn around."

Even while Imeraria was talking, Origa didn't try to move with it sticking to the gap in the door. The Queen's immediate attention doesn't seem to be moving.

"If it's a story, it's still possible. Don't interrupt me because I'm watching you."

"... ok. Now, just keep listening."

There is no point in arguing, Imeraria decided. You'll just be extra tired, he said.

"Tomorrow night, we will discuss our“ response ”to Dear One, Two, Three. I have an archery tomorrow, so you should come to the castle with one, two, three, just like today, and stay there tomorrow."

"... you're ready"

"Yeah, I'm ready to lose my hero. But you're not going to give me my life. I am a coward, so let me consolidate my double protection."

Towards Origa's back, Imeraria speaks upright.

On my way here, I give instructions to Sabnak, who was accompanying me, so that no one will let me through for a while, so I don't have to worry about someone asking me.

"The specifics will be explained again tomorrow. And one more thing... I'll borrow one, two, three tomorrow night."

To the words of Imeraria, Origa looked back for the first time.

Its eyes were sharp, including hostility, sufficient to stifle Imeraria. But don't back down here, keep talking.

"One, two, three. I haven't given you my permission yet... but I believe I need his child. The Demon Race measures now will be adequate with cooperation with Holland and Focalol's power of war, and the enjoyment of magic technology from Mr. Poose. But what about the future? When demons get used to fighting humans, can they cope with it even more?

"Such things will be thought of by future humans. Above all, did you even think I would snort at offering my husband seeds in such political judgment?

"This is also to create the world that one, two, three wants... Hih!?

If you notice, an iron fan with a grip of origa is poked at your throat.

"Continue. If I'm not convinced, your majesty will die here, whether it's a felony or not."

Scary, Imeraria was shaking honestly, but more anger springs up in the boil than that.

"Rude! Who are you waving your weapon at!

"I know. Securely."

Still, Origa doesn't try to pull an iron fan.

"No. You don't know anything! Do you think I would choose to spend the night with a man just for the future of my country!

A dry sound echoed in the hallway.

Oliga, hit in the left cheek, looks at Imeralia in silence.

"You don't know where you want to be, do you? The feelings of those who, like me, must continue to rise in places of heavy responsibility, without exhausting the hatred of those who have killed their families, etc."

Oliga doesn't answer.

I was just watching Imeralia cry out.

"I want proof that the person was there for this reason, even if it's someone I seal and will never see again. I want to feel connected to that person. Are you telling me not to even want that? How are you? You are! I..."

There was no queen of a country. There was one woman crying that she wanted to be tied to the person she liked, knowing it was the worst act.

"I admit my loss! It must be Mr. Origa by that side until the end of the day. But there's still something I want."

Origa closed the door behind her back, which was only slightly open, so that the cry could not be heard into the hall, placing the iron fan behind her waist.

"... ask Lady One Twenty-Three. I decided not to ask you anything."

"Mr. Origa......"

"I am heavily aware that that person's presence is too great to be singled out. But I also have a maintenance as a full wife. Just one thing, make a promise."

Oliga kneels softly.

"I know you don't want anyone to tell you about that father when you have a child. Whoever asks, please don't ever tell me."

"Damn......!

Take a deep breath and answer your wish.

"Okay. It's not something anyone can say."

Tomorrow, I'll see you again, and it was Imeraria who said goodbye. Still, the fears and tensions that remain in the core of the body make my knees tremble.

Origa, who dropped off Imeraria disappearing across the hallway and fixed the costume mess, returned to observation one, two, three again.

"It's hard when my husband is popular...... nevertheless"

No one notices that the eyes, except from the gap between thinly opened doors, were distorted by a grin.

"The“ new world ”that one, two, three strives for is going to be very, very nice. It's nice to be alone forever and sealed, but if anyone ever unseals...... oh the future I haven't seen yet. A world colored by battle and death. One, two, three, coming up. Soon, me and you..."

When the afternoon archery was over and one of the knights opened the door, there was no sign of Origa there.