Sword Whisperer

The North is not a place for people to live.

Flowers eat worms, water makes trees wither, and sometimes birds swim through the earth, spreading their hideous nostrils. The sun does not illuminate the land of the North at any moment, and at least the light that can be expected is all the shadow of white light emanating from that distant lighthouse.

But it's not a place to live, it's a different story than not living.

"......."

"It's the fifth time I've heard of this month."

An old man with scars all over his body looks down at a smooth corpse without a single scar. Even death failed to free him from fear, and the corpse's face remained stiffened in fear. Even if you close your eyes and touch the shape of your mouth, you have no choice but to erase the complete horror of the corpse.

"Is the light in the lighthouse blurring or is the night getting darker..."

"…… now we have to leave too?"

Another man asked. Each of the women looked at the old man with their eyes empty. Desperate in the face of the ensuing death, they were those who had already lived a life where tragedy was not new. They're all different stories, but somehow they can't live on their feet in the kingdom. They called themselves the inhabitants of the closed village.

"Where to leave."

"…… the revolutionary proposal will still be valid. Father."

A man with the same face as the chief said. The difference is that the hair is darker, the wrinkles are less, and the scars are less noticeable. The chief shakes his head with a bitter face.

"Do you think you'll be safe there? We will live in fear of pursuing the kingdom instead of the night."

"The pursuit of the kingdom is later, but the night is now by our side."

He was right. The chief slowly looked at his people. After the shadow of death came, they seemed to have forgotten the law itself to fight for life. Would that be the right answer to bring them to the Revolutionary Army?

It was then. Ahh, and the cry of the little baby broke their depressed silence. As the embarrassed young mother bites my child's milk, the old man looks grotesque.

"…… yes. Let's go to the Revolutionaries."

Even half-hearted hope is not enough.

§

"We don't share ideas. It's about sharing memories."

"So the memory of Mr. Siraz..... makes all Siraz strong?"

"People don't just get stronger with memories, Van."

Shiraz smiled.

"The training accumulated in your body doesn't just make you strong. The more training you put on, the more horrendous your body becomes." Strong "is not just a matter of knowing. In that sense, Siraj's strength varies according to his body. And this body is not for combat."

"…… How many Shiraz are there for combat?"

"Do you want to fight?"

"I want to feel it. How strong Syraz can hold the memory of so many people."

"You won't feel it."

Siraz smiled strangely.

"You're a long way from feeling that."

It would be a lie if it were not grievous, but Van did not answer. It felt like something meaningless was happening in Shiraz's presence. He would, too, because Siraz was a crowd of hundreds, or rather, countless people if he remembered those who were dead. How can we have one-on-one discussions with tens of thousands of people? If he was a sage, Van was just a swordsman.

'Knowing is not enough to be strong.'

The words that Shiraz gave me were more interesting than I thought. He felt himself growing up without holding a knife.

But is there also strength when you don't hold a knife?

'.... I don't want to be a Lopo.'

Van realized that I was relying too much on Lopo. He didn't want to be a prosecutor like Lopo. I wanted to be an examination that did everything I could as an examination that was incomparable.

If we meet the Guardian of the Front Line, will we get the answer?

As I walked down the street, I had to cut a few and a half times and turn one of my leaves into a tentacle for a moment to hit him. Around his level, it didn't feel threatening, but I couldn't help but feel a physiological aversion.

'…… do you live in this place?'

What is he here for? To protest against the Sunwoo family? He was the only one who could defend the library at the end, despite the power you neglected.

I didn't want to think he was so childish. Of course, when you think about the shadow he faced..... you don't tend to respect the logic of power rather than rational thinking, but it wasn't him.

What kind of prosecutor would he want to be? You can't hate a knife if you live as a guardian, but why is he holding it?

I had a lot of conversations I wanted to have. He also wanted to be taught, and if possible, to point a knife at him.

"…… From now on, you have to be nervous."

Kizl, a distant relative of Anya and a member of the White Flame Society, said: A middle-grown beard often made him look like an old man, whether because of his color or not. And in fact, in his words, he didn't feel anything like the fervor of youth. Nahar's lazy voice was so lazy that he could not listen.

"The light of the lighthouse is moving away. Now it's not about the level of stupid ghosts, it's really the seed of the night. The nobles won't show up, but remember, even if it's seed level, you still shouldn't be too careful..."

"Yes, Kizzle."

Van nods quietly. Of the seeds of the night, all he's ever been through is a dead body and a ghost. They were all evil spirits. If you encounter stubbornness or beasts.....

"......."

Half the steps stopped. And shortly thereafter, Siraz's steps also stopped. It was the moment when others doubtfully looked back at them. Half the hallucinations were drawn.

Then, a stung hit.

It was a woodland stunt. It was huge, sharp, and fast. The strikes that took place in the night smashed the trees and the dirt, but only after arriving in front of a doll.

'…… how beautiful is the life of one person.'

Numerous sirazes murmured in Siraz's heart. Thinking of his age, he would still not have lived half my life, but the stunts he had produced, nevertheless, surprised Siraz, who had been building up tens of thousands of years.

".... Who are you?"

Kizzle turned his head and asked with a annoying look. A man in a blue-eyed suit rolled his eyeballs without saying a word, and hurriedly tried to run back. But Kizzle couldn't let it go. The next moment, a huge white-salt gust emanated from the palm of Kizzle's hand. The white-salt gust that sucks and swallows everything around him literally burns one hand of the corpse.

"Huuuuuuuugh."

"I can't believe I'm losing my voice in the meantime. The reader is a health worker..... trembling in the closed village. Why would they want to step on our backs?"

"Back, not behind. I was just..... looking for help."

"Help?"

"Funerals don't stop in the closed villages these days. A 'Night Noble' appears and kills people like a joke all the time. If it was about the seed of the night, we would try to do the same..... but if it was the nobility of the night, the story is different..... so the villagers are now willing to rely on the Revolutionaries."

"…… The Night Noble appeared here? And the Revolutionary Party? Did you say the Revolutionary Party? They've been in contact with you?"

Kizzle frowned. It was still not dark enough for the nobles of the night to stay. Of course, the nobles of the night were able to walk right in front of the lighthouse if they only ate their minds, but it would not be possible because of the nature of those who prefer the night....

The Revolutionary Army.This wasn't just a matter for Kizzle to move on. Kizl looks back at Shiraz. Siraz opens his mouth quietly.

"I just reported it to Dane. Listen to the story."

"…… I can't help it. Yeah, so what kind of help are you looking for?"

"I can't go to the Revolutionaries."

A man noticed and said prominently. I didn't talk about the details, but I didn't have to listen. Maybe he did something to avenge the Revolutionaries. Whether it's a cover-up or a betrayal. So unlike the people in the closed villages who would entrust themselves to the Revolutionary Army, he would have stumbled on the back of such a prominent investigator.

"Catch the Night Noble. And don't touch the cloisters. If that's all you can guarantee, I'll teach you where the Revolutionary Army is."

"…… what do you say?"

I look at Syraz with a look that I can't stand because Kizzle is annoyed. Shiraz laughed.

"I don't think it's an offer to say no."

"I honestly thought so."

Kizzle sighs. He looks down at the man. He asked in a quiet voice.

"Yes, so where is the nobility?"

"Actually…… not one."

"…… what?"

"At first, we were confused. But as we looked at the traces of the bodies, we were forced to change our minds. It wasn't an individual, it was an organization."

"The aristocratic things move into a group?"

"Some bodies were dehydrated, others torn to shreds. Some die without a single wound, and some die of mold all over their bodies.

One nobleman could not have. "

"... I think so. By the way, do any of them..... have mushrooms blossomed?"

"Mushrooms? Oh, yes, there was. But how....."

"He will, too."

Kizzle said in a trembling voice.

"I just did. Over your head, mushrooms."

"......."

A man stuttered over my head with a dumb expression. And it wasn't that hard to feel the little mushrooms floating on it. The man screamed when he became a thinker.

"Ah, ah, ah, no! I mean, please. Please, hurry up these nobles..!"

".... I feel bad about being noble."

Kizzle grumbles. I was sure it was an offer he couldn't refuse anyway. So far, the nobility has descended, and I cannot confirm it, and most importantly, I cannot miss the revolutionary clue.

"Show me. Where can I see the shivers of that night?"

"Oh, what a night shiver, baby."

At that time, the mushroom blooming over the head of the corpse opened its mouth and whispered. It was a horrible voice. I wanted to weigh everything I ate the other day. Kizzle was not embarrassed in front of this bizarre landscape. It was foolish to expect common sense when faced with the night.

"Are you the nobleman? Then we better get out of here fast for each other."

"…… is that so? You think you can handle us?"

"No one thinks they can handle garbage."

"That's funny. That's good. Then come to the cow dam. I found myself there, very..."

The white salt spilled before the mushrooms even finished speaking. The man froze in front of the white salt that swallowed my head, but the white salt disappeared by burning only mushrooms. Kizzle stretches his shoulders, then quietly looks back at the group.

"…… I think I have a destination."

"I think so."

Van replied in a trembling voice. A mushroom blooms over a man's head and the mushroom speaks.

"Funny."

Van smiles. He can't see the moon or the sun, so even though he can't measure time, he feels the night coming.

Kishin roared and cheered.

- Feel it, feel it, feel the pleasure of breaking the night! A sense of justice that conquers you!

You can't ring the sky yet, but...

The night can ring.