Sweet Reincarnation

Pastry is tied blindfold play. It has been somewhat since the beginning of the Second Rite of the Sacred Separation.

Worried about his son, who was still facing himself, his father, Sir Casserole-Mill-Mortellen, had been invited to a room in the church.

It's called a reception room. It's a room with conditioning.

A middle-aged clergyman sits opposite him as he sits in his chair. I've been looking awkward for a while now, but the knight didn't know what caused it.

No, if I say it correctly, I know the cause is another ritual of holiness for my son. What I don't know is what's bothering this priest so much.

"Sir Mortairn. I need to tell you something about your son."

"What is it?"

"This is it."

A dull, thin lump of metal was placed. It's commonly called light money.

It is characterized by excellent accumulative and conductive magic and is also used to quantify the amount of magic.

Metal, which is also mandatory when performing the first ritual in another liturgy, which is used to measure the amount of human magic that undergoes the ritual.

The achievements of old great scholars who used this light money to quantify their magic power are still praised as great academic achievements.

It was well known that metals and liquids vary in volume depending on temperature. Thermometers and the like utilize this property.

In the same way, the mass of matter was changed by magic and quantified by setting criteria.

I cannot help but be in awe of my great forefathers.

"What's this light money?

Take a piece of metal placed in your hand.

It weighs so well that I don't think it's such a small thing. Probably about as heavy as a big iron ball in a grip.

I shouldn't have wanted to be so heavy when I was myself, and it was enough information to roughly observe what the priest wanted to say.

"I know you noticed when you were held, but what Awkward Job is trying to say is about the amount of magic your son has"

"Sounds like a little more."

It is a celebration that magic is just enough to use magic, and it is a legend to say that the more you use your abilities.

The magnitude and duration of a fire that can be caused by a large amount of magic, even if it is said to be easily expressed as a percentage [firing] magic. Alternatively, it is known that there are differences in materials that can be ignited.

Although it is said in one theory that the same magic and individuality are represented, the theory that the amount of magic is affecting the quality of magic is predicated.

"I would like to congratulate you if it were meant to be, but slightly, it was too much. Specifically, in your son's case, you had more than fifty, compared to the commonly assumed magic power of one. Probably enough to get three fingers around the world."

"Hmm."

Here Sir Knight hesitated to respond.

Congratulations if the amount is somewhat high. Just keep celebrating.

But is there something wrong with too many?

Because such a question arose in him.

"On our part, the celebration of those who were blessed with the liturgy of Saint Separation has become a lesson in making it widely available to the public. This is because, as a Church, we are also obliged to report to God and the Son of God that we will be faithful in our duties. Shou (Miho) Gu people will also be able to stay. but if you dare to look at the harshness and reality of the world as well as your awkwardness, there are a few people who are jealous or jealous of others' celebrations. I wonder if the greater the blessings, the sadder the more such people are, the reality."

"This is a very contradictory story with the priesthood's theory of reality."

"This is tough. Church and what is in the world of men. A small vocation in the priest's body, and a son of man. There are many things that can't be left inside, and there are many things that you need to do that. Sir Mortairn understands the area, and with your help, I will help you to dispel your son's concerns as much as I can with my awkwardness."

The sigh of the Knight Sir, who thought the story would be roundabout, was probably the area of anticipation for the priest.

If you're going to summarize his story, it's simple. If the story of my son spreads, I will be exposed to jealousy. If you want me to keep that in my own house, I want you to cooperate. That's what I mean.

What is cooperation in this case?

Even the Knight Sir, who is somewhat oblivious to politics, is approximate. “Shaped" cooperation in gold and silver. That is, gold.

"If my son is safe and fulfils the second test, we promise to do everything we can"

"Do you think so? No, I'm glad Sir understands the story. Ha ha."

After that, a conversation continues between Tickle Tickle and each other exploring their bellies.

Around, they try to explore the secrets of the development of the Knight's Land, or they explore their thoughts on the magic power of their son. The inside of the faction to which Sir Knight belongs, or rumours of what is the only thing. They want to get that kind of information, softly. When I say priesthood, I would like to say whether it is also a combination of intelligence services.

Belly black, it was already dusk outside while we exchanged adult exchanges.

It's time for the results of the pastry trials.

"Oh, is this already the time? No, it's too soon to be full of expectations."

"I guess so. Worried time seemed like something I felt for a long time."

"Ha, it would be a guy called Kindness. Now let's welcome your son."

Apparently it had already been time for worship, and the devout believers who had finished their work had come to the Church to thank God and the Spirit for a safe day today.

Knight Sir and the priest go underground as they look sideways at those who pray.

Open tight deadlines to prevent light from leaking.

Pastry dazzled unexpectedly by the glare when he was freed of his blindfold.

His father gently stroked his head when the eyes of Pace, who was trying to puff his eyelids and look around him, were used to the brightness around him.

"You've worked so hard on your own."

With that word, a pastry that I felt was finally over.

I make my own excuse that the tears are in my eyes when I see my father still because of the glare.

"Well, that's the last finish we're going to have."

"Finish?"

Isn't this the end of it, a boy who is surprised.

Freed his hands and feet, he tells him to be careful when standing up, and rises as he slowly rubs and unwraps his hardened hands and feet.

And when he stood up suddenly, he heard that some of them were falling from clogging their blood, and beware.

"If you had magic in your hands, the sacrament you're about to read up should sound meaningful. With the blessing of the Holy Word, the liturgy of the Sacred Separation is over."

"Okay."

Then, before, the priest spreads the scroll of one roll.

Perhaps that has a sacrament written on it.

Tauntingly, a singing voice begins.

"The world will live a wide life, even though there will be countless lives (and many more) to be graced by God. People again. The nostalgia of the Holy God is immeasurable, his power is unlimited, his word is long and long. If you are to give a single verse, it will be important for you to take Keizawa. It shall be a verse of the Word of God in the name of one person here. In the name of Thou Pastry-Mill-Mortellen, reward the favor of God. God bless you."

The moment Pais understood the contents of the sacrament, he abruptly understood his magic. Do what you can and cannot do about your abilities. I also understood [transcription] as an important liver of my own abilities.

And perhaps also that this sacrament is magical.

"Apparently, you're safe."

My father nods contentedly.

Besides, nodding the same way, Pais replies.

the breath of each other's azaleas, but the atmosphere was very similar and could be described as parents and children to boulders.

Naturally, it goes without saying that he looked just like him when he left the room.

"Today, thank you for your help"

"No, my church is a job to help the devout faithful. We can always help you."

"This is a small thank you."

"No, I appreciate this. Thank you for your cooperation with the Church."

Sir Knight handed the leather bag to the self-proclaimed clergyman, taking only his face smiling.

The contents are gold, as an approximate human would guess, and contain about ten pieces of silver coins.

"Okay, now"

"Also, come at any time"

That's what I said and broke up with the parents and the children and the priest.

After dropping off the rear of his close father and son, the priest checked into the bag.

Jalali, and rock the bag once.

Seeing that it was only silver coins inside, he groaned bossly as if he were talking to himself.

"You don't understand. Are you a country nobleman up on the battlefield? That's not enough for the shutdown fee. I hope you don't feel bad."

The face of the priest, who did it and laughed at it, was a bunch of wicked men far from calling themselves priests.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

"Well, let's buy some souvenirs and go home before the dewstore cleans up yet"

"Yes, Father. I think it's a good idea to buy Bonca and go home. [M] Let's do that."

"Right. You've grown up today too, so I can't treat you like a child anymore. I'll keep some, so I'll take care of the souvenirs. I have a few stops to make, so we'll meet in the middle of the square when the sun goes down."

"Okay."

A boy with sparkling eyes, is a smile.

At all times, the honest desire of an innocent child does not let go of the mind of what has grown up.

Difference between adults and children.

If you're a man, he says the only difference is the difference in the amount you spend on your hobby.

If so, isn't the boy who does not hesitate to advance to his hobby here already equipped with adult requirements?

Literally, a boy who's just grown up. No, I'm already an adult, so I guess I should call myself a youth even if I was still young.

Bonca is the one the young man is choosing to bump into now.

If it were modern Japan, would it be about between what is called an apple and what is called a pear? Whether you call it pear or apple would be a subtle place for some people. From those that are bright green to those that would be yellow and ripe, all are fruits with a lot of character.

Its unknown fruit piled in the outdoor store. The youth, one by one, take it and choose it with amazing seriousness, even smell, appearance, weight and sound.

If I had done some work and the knight returned, my son would still be in front of the fruit.

"Come on, or I won't be able to go home by the end of the day. That's about all you have to do."

In his father's words, Pais, who did not hide the wind, such as the shavings, took the fruit of about four fruits in his hand, unfortunately.

Can't you hold it with a small hand, I try to hold it in half?

"Sir, I'll spare you the enthusiasm."

After all, there seemed to be someone sweet to the child, and the shopkeeper, who looked at the pais he had seriously chosen, gave me all one extra bonka.

That too, go out of your way to pick the one that looks the best.

Rice, and spitting paste only.

The smell looks delicious, but it seems to drift. The nostrils are tickled by the refreshing, sour scent. Not to mention this bonka. Where I've eaten here, it should be easy to deceive.

I couldn't have been more patient than that.

"Shari, Mogmog, Father"

"Mug, what is it?

Whatever you think, parents and children chewing on something.

"The fact that we ate the best guy. Don't tell your mother or sister."

"Right."

It was the moment when a firmly silenced secret was made between parents and children.