The Branded Female Fencer

Mason laughs with his nose in mockery.

"Hmm, to this extent if you look forward to it being something that had a very strong enemy. If it was an open space, it would have been a powerful enemy, but you lost it with care."

"What are we going to do with that hunk of hardened enemies?"

"This guy is the cold air itself. As long as it is on this earth, you will not awaken forever. Well, you'd feel safer if you sank him at the bottom of the lake. The life form in this hand is not as long as it lasts. Leave it in seal for a few years and it will disappear naturally"

"I see. You seem so used to fighting, huh?

"Right."

Mason answered Orolon's words naturally. Because it was true, but some of it might have gone out of my mind more than that. But in that gap, unexpected things happen at those times.

At this time, the unharmed victory over the battle against the mighty enemies that became a streak also created a gap for the servant Mason. Mason's spine ran an unpleasant hunch to poke that gap, but if Mason had listened to the surrounding spirits in advance with a good selection, this could have been avoided.

When Mason got upset, it was time for the fallen bram cell to get up.

"Stupid, definitely dead - no, dragon zombied? Why now?"

At the same time that questions arose, Mason was reflectively exploring the surrounding signs, including outside the room. Then I found out there was someone moving outside the room.

"That one!

"Wait, where are you going -"

I felt like I could hear the rising bram cell and Orolon and Vitara confronting it, but Mason never looked back. I don't need to hear the Spirit's voice, and this is not good. That's what I figured.

He quickly broke down the walls that stood, and Mason followed the signs. The signs were moving to slip when they did, but Mason had succeeded in chasing after them too long as he bore them unimpressively.

"Wait!"

Mason stopped the shadow he was about to walk away from. I thought it might be ineffective, but unexpectedly, the shadow responded to the call. The shadow looked back, taking the hood and smiling back at Mason. The grin was evil itself, and Mason understood that his unpleasant hunch had hit him.

Mason knew who the shadow was.

"You're Doom, right?

"You know, you were... you were definitely an Arnelian pilgrim. I thought it was pretty high, but sure- does it fit in third place Mason?

"I didn't know you knew me."

"I'm an informant, I am."

"Did you turn the ice dragon into a dragon zombie earlier?"

"What if I said yes?

"What did you do that for?"

"I won't tell you."

Doom and Mason, cutting back to their grandparents, tried to explore their bellies, but more than that, they cared about what was in Doom's hands. What Doom holds on the small side to the right is a large bag that people are likely to get into. It's as if it doesn't move, but it also looks like it has people in it because of its shape. The question is, who's in there?

And it's on your left, a bottle big enough to hold it aside. I wonder if it's a fairy in there. Apparently he's hurt and passed out, but it was also clear from the stirring of the spirits around him that this wasn't just a fairy.

Mason instinctively assumed that missing this guy here would be bad and irrevocable. Just before Mason tried to get into a combat posture, Doom was flirting with a nit laugh as if to bruise him.

"Wait!"

"You don't have anybody waiting for you to tell you to wait. Osiria! Buy me some time, as planned."

"I don't have a choice."

Girl in a red dress like the blood that showed up in front of Mason. Mason knew about the girl whose eyes were stained with crimson, in a report. He is Osiria, who has also been certified as the greatest evil spirit in Arnelia's crusade history.

Mason followed the scene with a reflexive flash, concealing himself. Osiria rounded her eyes on Mason's unhesitant response.

"Hard work. If I'd been there, I'd have screwed my neck off."

"(Damn, that's the worst part. No amount of me alone can conquer the fifth worst spirit without any preparation. Precisely because the report assumes that Osiria and I have an unusually high resistance to witchcraft, and that even the sacred attributes will not accept witchcraft as if it were. It's just a waste of time working with such a guy. Can't you manage to follow only Doom)"

"Oh, by the way, it's impossible to get past me and go after Doom."

Osiria reads Mason's thoughts but declares them very high. I thought Mason was clear, but I changed my mind when I saw the bug that ran in front of me disappeared after a thousand cuts despite being in a blind spot.

"My abilities just drop in accuracy if I don't see them, not that I can't activate them otherwise. Now I'm trying to launch an automatic attack on moving objects. I can't move here, but if it's going to be glued, fine. You can live up to your minimum goals.

Besides, you seem to be capable of breaking down walls and moving around, but I'm also an evil spirit with no entity. There are no walls, but they are. You don't think you can get away with it. "

"(Shit, it's getting nasty)"

A sense of impatience strikes Mason. Mason and Osiria separated one bend, at a distance and only about ten steps away, but the battle for lack of decision-makers was in a state of complete adhesion.

It was only a few minutes later that there was movement. It was when Osiria suddenly shrunk a few steps, surprised Mason for nothing and wondered if he should have killed him.

Continued