"Hey, wow"
I wrapped my long leg cramped in the audience, and Coren, who was sitting with his legs together, sat back properly and embarked on himself.
"Wendy was so pretty? You were completely wrong about what I did."
That's what I say. I'll sit in the front seat. I'll put Eston's back on.
"When you said you liked Wendy, I thought, um, you like that, because you're a great nobleman anyway, you know? Eston, you actually have eyes for a woman. I've reviewed it."
"Hey, you're kidding me."
Eston turns bright red in his face and looks back.
"Don't you know what would happen if I said that in such a large number of people in your ridiculous voice? What kind of nerves do you have?"
Coren laughs at the reaction.
"Isn't that nice? It won't even decrease."
"The honor of the aristocracy is reduced. Remember."
That's what I say to bite, and Eston turns forward.
"Uh, funny."
Coren rocks his shoulder again, then elbows the next polois.
"Hey, Polois would think so, too."
"You did have a unique vibe."
Polois answers.
"But Wendy's face must have been in order since before."
"That's not what I meant."
Coren twists his neck.
"Still, two pairs can have a lot of pretty women. Wendy to Leila, Norish? You weren't too bad for the witch role kid. What did I say?"
"Seraha, you said"
Polois answers.
"That's right, it's time to shut up, Coren. The play will resume."
But Coren is where Polois' attention blows.
"Did Almark say himself that Almark was no good to Leila? Let's go to Wendy."
"Did you tell that Almark the other day that other girls were good? Lilty or something."
Whispering as Polois shrugged, Coren grinned and shrugged his shoulders.
"Surely Lilty is cute as a princess today, too. I don't care how many girls I like, but that doesn't make it any less."
Polois shook his head silently instead of answering it.
Colen joyfully sets his feet together again.
"I can't wait for Wendy's next turn."
"All right, all right."
I raised my hands so that the buyer would surrender.
"Give me a break from the taste of the woods anymore, because I'll tell you where the Spirit's wings are"
"I still had something to eat."
Morgen looks remorseful, but Nelson slaps that shoulder.
"No, Lord Morgen, no wonder. Now we can go find the wings."
"Really? I wish it had helped."
That's what Morgen says and grins.
"Well, then, here I am."
When Morgen broke up with the line and left the stage, the girls from the lower classroom in the guest room shouted in solidarity, Morgen, cheering.
I wave at you with a full smile, and then Morgen leaves.
"Come on, I'll go then. Don't be late. Follow me."
That's what buyers say and see Nelson and Norish.
From there, it was Leila's single-pitch of performances.
Emerge cliffs cut to the stage, or deep swamps.
It was rough in detail compared to a set of backgrounds that brought together the majority of the class, but too much background for the Nelsons to act there.
On each occasion, Nelson and Norish join forces to gather the wings of the Spirit.
Leila handily reproduced the wind and mud streams that flirt with them as well.
The stage darkens when Nelson ascends to a tall tree to take the wings of the third Spirit, and that fingertip reaches the wings that were hooked to the branches and Norish cheers.
Layla, who finished the performance, exhaled just a little tired.
Almark fluttered out from behind the scenes there.
Leila, looking back at the signs, opens her eyes as if she was bewildered for a moment.
"Good job, Leila"
As Almark said, Leila shook her head small.
"Someone else."
Leila nodded as Almark tilted his neck silently.
"I knew you were amazing in real life. Though I knew."
Not answering that, Almark smiled slightly.
"I'm coming."
Almark walked on to the dark stage.
When the lights on the stage, it was in the woods.
Unlike just now, it's wrapped in thin fog, somewhere dim.
In the center of the stage, there was one man dressed in a dirty robe, clad to the ground and sat down.
Deep down, the face is invisible.
Beside the man, there is a sword of the stripper.
A shadow accidentally gushed around the man, who remained nagging and still motionless.
Just like Nelson fought, three little ghost shadows in all.
Jumping a little closer to the man.
But a man doesn't react in any way.
Guest seats are slightly annoyed by the way they seem to be asleep.
A whole bunch of little ghosts who were narrowing the circle of siege suddenly jumped at the man.
At that moment, a man flashed his sword beside him.
Stay nagging, without raising your face.
It was an unstoppable velocity to my eyes.
A moment late, the slashed shadow disappears.
The other two jumped from left to right at the same time.
The sword flashes again.
The sharpness of that fat muscle is not Nelson's ratio.
When the two shadows disappeared, yet another, a sudden gushing shadow struck the man, but this was also slashed and torn by an exact blow as if he had known.
In practice, there were always only three shadows. The last shadow was a prank close to the harassment of the performer Torque, but he was slashed away without even raising his face.
Torque crooks his face and pounds his tongue.
When the signs of the shadow disappeared completely, the man finally slowly raised his face.
A wrecked face.
Dark eyes.
A slow exhaling breath looked like a grain of cold ice.
"Hey, that's Almark."
"Almark? Always hanging together."
The stirring spreads in the student seat.
Almark turned that dark eye to the guest seat.
That alone made it feel like the temperature in the auditorium had dropped.
It doesn't look very much like an act, dark, shiny eyes.
A bright atmosphere created by the multiplication of Morgen and Buyer, or a warm atmosphere created by Nelson and Norish joining forces to recognize each other.
That air, which had wrapped the auditorium until earlier, blew up at the top with the too cold signs emanating from Almark.
It was like a merciless wind blowing from far north.
Someone in the guest seat swallows the sauce.
Ein and Coren both looked at Almark as if he had been fascinated.
"Looks like it's not the Almark I know"
Fita whispered so holding her own shoulder with both hands.
"Kind of scary"
Radmar, sitting next to it, sounded, um, his nose.
I know those eyes.
Radmar shuddered lightly, remembering Almark's eyes as he had slapped a long sword on his neck muscle.
His eyes I saw weren't like that.
It seemed deeper, darker, and sadder.
The audience turned back to me when I heard a dry noise.
It was the sound of Almark throwing out his sword like he was bored.
Almark hasn't spoken a word yet.
By its side, the fog swirled.
A black dress witch reveals herself.
"You look bored, Almark. My swordsman."
To the words, Almark looked closely at Serrah's face, but answered nothing, exhaling deeply and long.