The Most Heretical Last Boss Queen Who Will Become the Source of Tragedy Will Devote Herself for the Sake of the People

"Arthur."

To a simultaneous cry from Roderick and Clark, Arthur opened his pale eyes round and let them glow.

……………

This place, and its mouth opened willingly this time.

It was an almost unheard voice, but it was enough for them now.

A scream arrives and a doctor jumps in who was holding back outside the room. While the door remained vigorously open, the knight who was watching in front of the door also peered into the room with his eyes round from the front of the door. Stayle and the others each called his name, and at last even the knights of the 7th and 9th Squads, who were on the escort, spoke up to him.

Stunning and joy fill the room.

Arthur was still confused, even though he received confirmation of consciousness and physical condition from the doctor. Open your mouth gently, you're speechless. Doubting his immobile body, Roderick and Clark's rare expressions jumped in if he moved only his eyes and neck, as well as the faces of Style and Jilbell, who glistened their eyes from the other side and peered into themselves.

I can't even grasp the contours in my cloudy consciousness as to why I'm here or what happened. Measure the pulse as the doctor explains to the Stiles that he doesn't seem to be conscious yet. As he blurred to even block his hearing, Arthur turned his consciousness to what was in front of him, "Why so many people?"

There may still be memory problems, and the doctor repeated the explanation he had already given in advance in order to calm the Stiles down before Arthur.

Arthur couldn't help himself if he tried to wake his body up first, looking at the faces entering his sight. My right arm had no sensation and my left arm ran a severe pain as soon as I moved it. If you accidentally distort your face, say, "Your arms must not be forced to move!" and the doctor can stop me.

Arthur, Arthur and Style call out next door again and again. Nothing was emitted, to Arthur, who remained blurred and unconscious. Now another anxiety rubbed their breasts. It reached my ears, but I silently called Arthur back to see if the doctor knew his name softly. I opened my mouth slightly but wrinkled between my eyebrows before I uttered words and closed it. Everyone stretched their shoulders wondering if they didn't even remember their name. He couldn't stand it, and his face was closer as the style shouted "Arthur" as he peeled out his agitation, peeking into Arthur as he sank himself into the bed.

"You remember me, too! And pride."

As soon as I told him so, Arthur's eyes turned around and he opened up strongly.

My legs moved instead of my hands, trying to move my body into the desperate shape of the style I see at close range. You remembered something, and if Style waits for Arthur's reaction,

Gun, and. I only moved my neck and got a head-butt.

Gu......, and Style flashes into an unexpected attack, holding his forehead and turning his torso against him.

It didn't hurt that much, but I fell to the floor with a little sweep on my glasses because I didn't know what Arthur was after when I slept.

"... let... so... uh... wo.

I moved my mouth painfully and my slight voice remained fragmented.

I could barely hear Arthur say, "You can't forget Wo," to Roderick, who was sitting on the other side of the style across the bed. Roderick called himself "Arthur" again with a pocan look, having opened his eyes more to what Arthur had properly told him than to having a head poke at the first prince in front of him.

"... of... yeah...

Arthur, who managed to make it into words this time, with a slightly stronger voice, shut his mouth again along the way.

Clark noticed and stepped out as he put his hand on Roderick's shoulder, "Good with as many voices as you can get out," he said. Wrinkled between his eyebrows, Arthur, once shut his mouth, turned to Roderick with a small voice that made him lurk after he silenced them all, opening his mouth "Father," he continued.

"... throat, that's awesome... but it hurts.

Roderick lost all his power at once to what he called a loose statement and even "father" too long ago.

With a long sigh, cover your eyes with one hand on each forehead so that you can drool, and lean down slowly. Clark silently tapped his shoulder next door and said, "Good for you," but I couldn't afford to get back to you from Roderick, who was weak.

Arthur let go of his words in a plundered voice again as the doctor approached Arthur with his face, asking him his name again.

"... it's Arthur Beresford...

This is to Arthur, who still has a long memory of what the hell is going on, "Don't you remember?" Clark asked.

Arthur hands back his memory as he wrinkles again between his brows. He had left the Knights and stopped his pride in the tower of separation. And from that day on, memories distort. Answering Clark's question with a reverse question, "Why are you hurt like this?" Now the voices of Style and Jill Bale overlapped from the other side buying the explanators "I" and "I" at the same time.

When Arthur turned his face, he focused on the two faces. To Jill Bale, who is holding her eyeballs tight as she is, and to Style, who is rubbing her eyes as hard as she can with her hands while still in the position where she picked up her fallen glasses "What's up?" I ask. In the next moment, "It's because of your head thrust………………" is stared at with a reddish eye on the style.

Arthur mumbled, thinking it was just a little bad, wondering if his hair had gotten into his eyes when he poked his head. Arthur has a strong desire to at least assume so, even from the style that has continued to disrupt the words even before the knights.

"I'm sorry. Lately, there have been a lot of good things going on.

Jill Baer smiled first, getting her face in order.

"Wake up and be above all else," Jilbert told Arthur, who turned to himself, after the doctor pulled back again, getting permission to stay before he started talking.

That he was found seriously injured two nights ago.

Too strong for awakening, too shocking a fact Arthur rubbed his lurking voice "Dear Pride..."

Once Arthur was controlled by hand, and explained in turn, Gilbert told Roderick and the others the same story again. I dare you to lay low about Arthur's injured condition and "the situation of a certain person", including about his right arm.

To many of the stunning facts, Arthur finally noticed the shackles of Jilbell and Steele as well after hearing the explanation. That Pride is safe, and that he's working with Adam to invade the rebellion. Adam, as soon as his name came out, Arthur glanced at him to catch something. Adam's smiling face is too much for me to know why. With that in his mouth, Steele and Jilbert raised their voices with tremendous momentum: "He's still..." "Can you remember in detail..."

Arthur himself, I want to remind you, but I can still blur my head. The doctor explains that the memory back and forth is easy to lose and sometimes remembers after time, but the two still can't give up. But I couldn't even force Arthur, who had just woken up, to drink the word once. Arthur lay his eyes down sorry to see that. Even though I wanted to apologize to Style for not being able to stop my pride, what I say in this state now seemed dastardly. He said he bothered the Knights and, above all, couldn't protect his pride from Adam. With that remorse, when I bit my mouth to the point of bleeding.

"Come home."

... Unexpectedly, words are too much for Arthur's head without any context.

The power of his mouth fell out, and Arthur's face stretched wide open. I knew right away that it was from Lord Pride, but I can't remember when.

Arthur, whose expression had obviously changed, was called by the stiles peering into the bed. But Arthur can't really react this time. Twitching, skinning the words, total fury at the feeling of the flood pushing into your head. If you swim your gaze at the uncomfortable feeling in your brain, the shelf next to your bed went into your eyes. My eyes prick at the familiar wrap placed there.

It's a letter, from Lord Pride. The moment I thought so, my memory, which should be completely irrelevant, poured in like a waterfall, overflowing and drowning Arthur so hard that he couldn't even breathe.

"Arms, drop, fold, throat crushed"

A small fragment scratched his head from the flood of memories.

Arthur, called Arthur but not the other way around, Arthur looked alternately at his arms as he remembered. Pain runs if you move it. Left arm and right arm with no sensation at all. Furthermore, the throat is strangely painful from earlier and cannot speak normally.

It's not a nightmare or a delusion. Now that I remember this is all true, Arthur's complexion changes within a glance. Hang on! And as soon as Roderick bared his voice, Arthur turned his stiff face to Roderick to make sure, with his eyes open. Arthur spins words again with his throat, which only a plundered, lurking voice can fulfill.

"... the Knights Commander.... me,... my, my right arm.

Roderick lost his word to Arthur, who asks about the puffiness.

I couldn't even tell a lie. I stuck my breath, and once I ate my teeth and tied them up, I shook my neck quietly to the side as I was ready.

I don't know why I suddenly realized it. But everyone once laid their eyes down from Arthur on the fact that it was too cruel. Arthur cut his eyes open like he had lost his eyelid and hardened as he drank his breath. Clark gets up softly and turns behind Roderick as he sits. The moment I gently tried to explain to Arthur the course of the injury, starting with his right arm, as it were.

"Heh heh heh heh heh heh heh"

Arthur's unspoken anger and swollen killings were unleashed all over the room at once.

I burned my pale eyes to anger and tried to scream something, but the more I tried to shout, the more cloudy the words were, and the more I ragged them I couldn't hear them. I hurried Arthur, trying to force him to rise with emotional momentum, to hold Roderick and Clark down so the wound wouldn't hurt. Calm down and call desperately on Arthur, who strips his teeth out and keeps raising his anger.

─ There's no way I won't be disturbed knowing my right arm won't go back to normal.

Everyone calls Arthur's name or clogs the words.

Stayle herself, I didn't know what to say. Arthur did this because he also asked for help. I wasn't sure where Arthur's anger was headed, and Roderick and the others held me down, and all I could do was stare at Arthur screaming about was bump his leg and scream something. Arthur kept moving his mouth as his face turned bright red, his throat hurt too much and he finally coughed badly.

─ Yes, I thought so.

He coughed repeatedly like a seizure, go-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho, Surprised by it, Roderick and his pressing hands loosened, when Jilbell stood up and tried to raise his voice to the knight by the door to call a doctor

Arthur's pale eyes hit Steele's eyes.

Style inadvertently rocks his shoulders in a strong gaze pointed straight at him.

Before asking from Steel, Arthur forced his broken left arm to move and grabbed Steel's chest. It's a broken arm, even though he's been treated for special abilities. Naturally, if moved, the severe pain would run from arm to shoulder, but Arthur pulled the style straight to himself, regardless. Pulled with incredible force, his face approached Arthur shortly after the style reacted. Roderick and the others raised their voices, but as soon as Style's face came beside him with his forehead dampened by severe pain, he turned to his ears and began to speak of something in a quick tone with enthusiasm. After a whisper lurked like a sumptuous, the words, spoken in a quick tone, could not be heard clearly even if they were all silent.

─ Yes, it wasn't.

The complexion of Style, who remains deaf to Arthur, is clearly changing.

Forget the blink and cramp with your eyes open to the limit, pointing all nerves at Arthur's words without moving one. They also lurked their breath to hear the word at all again, to the style of not missing Arthur's word word word word by word.

─ Because Arthur's anger was directed at the very facts he remembered.

After saying all the words at once, anyway, Arthur let go of the hand he was grabbing up to do his best.

He only roughened his breath so that he was not willing to rumble anymore and sank into bed, only his eyes staring at the style. Severe pain in the left arm like pulling later and sore throat after spitting blood. In the rampage, held down, the shoulders and abdomen also have a bump of pain. Arthur kept his gaze off the style even while the Knight of the Seventh Squad hurried back on his special ability to treat injuries.

Blurred, drawn so that the head could not be processed, Style, who remained frozen, did not say anything for a while with an open mouth without moving one after being let go of his hand. His pitch-black eyes pointed straight at him as he collided with Arthur's eyes, and remained fixed.

"Dear Stayle... what is Lord Arthur...?

Jill Baer asks the terrified style.

If Roderick, Clark and the knights of the escort also continued to gaze to wait for Style's words, that mouth of Style slowly opened with a hardened expression.

"... two days from today, when the Radiya Empire comes to attack our country.

First, talk about the facts that require the most urgency.

Everyone spoke up and listened back to that shocking information from the beginning. But Style's words still go on. Slowly pull yourself back, stand upright from your forward posture, and stretch your spine. If I held my chest down unconsciously with one hand, I could clearly see my heart slapping itself terribly fast. I use my shoulders to breathe, and I pronounce the words I receive from Arthur sequentially from what I have swallowed up.

"Adam's collaborators have a special ability to be transparent. And..."

That everyone in this room already knows.

But I still can't admit that the next word I tried to go on is true for Stayle herself, herself. But it didn't look like my partner in front of me was talking or lying. decision of will, and Style tells them it in his own mouth.

"Adam, the Crown Prince of the Radiya Empire, is also a special ability man.... Originally speaking, he said he was a person in our country.

No way, that's the word, but Arthur's eyes were serious in themselves.

If he continued to focus his eyes to encourage him to continue, Stayle continued his words after squeezing his mouth once a long time. "And," he says, mouthing facts as if they were picturesque.

"Adam said he was..." a special ability man of madness.

Everybody doubted their ears.

Next, he doubted Arthur's memory and also wondered if he had altered it for his convenience because he wandered his life and death. I've never even heard of Jill Bale, such as his special abilities of madness.

But Arthur's pale eyes glowed with certainty, leaking his breath through Hugh and his sore throat. I hurt my throat until I breathed, but now I don't care. There was more consciousness to Stayle than that to those who were told the important facts to everyone on this scene. Arthur waited for words as he kept his ears as clear and staring as Roderick and the others could tell him what he had said. Arthur hasn't heard the words I'd like you to say from the mouth of the most stele yet.

Style also hesitated badly to say the word.

That's my convenient dream, or even at this moment right now I think it's a mistake to ask. The pitch-black eyes swayed badly, trembling to his lips, biting to the point where he was about to bleed once. However, even if he inflicted pain on himself, Style once breathed and swallowed into a reality that did not wake up. And now it was up to Arthur to say those words to them. At the same time, I remember the last words Arthur spoke only to himself.

"Sister, yes... Adam tells me you're being manipulated...

"Help Lord Pride..."

It was my, most wanted fact and word.

Style desperately pressed it back in. The feeling of holding my fist and at the same time freeing myself from what I had been tying myself up extended to the inside. My whole body trembled, but the sense of unnatural tremor in my right hand had already disappeared like a lie.

The moment I realized it, I wobbled every severely weakened and stretched spine. I managed to put my strength into my legs, and I couldn't help but fall, but I couldn't let those eyes out of Arthur's.

Tension and relief, amazement and anger, and a lot of impatience and slight hope mix in them. I heard breathtaking noises, looking back at Arthur and Stayle, but their eyes didn't look like they were lying.

The louder the sound of Hugh and his rough breath, the quieter the room was. Then Arthur spun the words again with such a slight voice that he could lurk.

"… in order, we will talk. … all.

Everyone pays attention to that word.

Thanks to the Knight of the Seventh Squad, the sore throat was relieved again, but the sweat remained bubbling and dripping all over his face. Clark stretched out his arm and wiped Arthur's sweat with a towel, but during that time Arthur's eyes were not those of those who despaired of being deprived of their right arm. He had cloudless eyes filled with life and strong will.

If everyone sat back in their seats wanting Arthur's words and showing willingness to listen, he spoke out slowly.

"............... that guy, he can get it back.... Never.

─ The truth opened its mouth.