Tower of Karma

Long spears protruded from the gap of the great shield, and the rain of arrows since pulling them right before the enemy was picked up. All on Theory Street. It therefore has an unmistakable effect.

"Come on, you're really gonna die today."

What Wolf looks out for is the density of the arrows, that is, the number of arrows being punched in. I'm not stupid with Wolfe and the others. The opponent's supply has been cut short. I didn't let the massive replenishment happen at one time. Then at this point, the amount of this arrow is clearly looking for a short-term showdown.

Big shield sticky, front line completely stalled. Desperate is naturally the Arcadia faction, which is the losing side. Until not long ago, the Nederks side was also burning in revenge, but the vengeance was worn out by repeated victories. I can't move on with this.

"What if I sew the gap between the arrows and cut it open?"

I don't know who made me decide to die, but I have to heat it up to attack more than this difference in heat. Wolfe is going to move quickly as that fuel.

"Are you all right? Until yesterday, the accuracy of the movement is different. Morale is just a little too high."

Taking Anatole's advice, Wolfe snorts, too. Naturally, I feel strange with Wolfe. But Wolfe wasn't as hip as he was retreating under the prevailing circumstances. No, there is no way out if you want to leave here.

"You can't let a man try three giant stars in this situation."

Wolfe stretches lightly. To the solidity of that determination Anatole gave way to a smile.

"Come on, you idiot. Yarrow. Leave your ass to it."

Nika also slaps Wolf on the back again. Win when you can. Looks like Wolfe has no place to go to take away the win. The power I have polished so far, the self that has grown beyond this winter,

"Oh, and would you even take Gilberto's neck!

When you hit it, you will never drop this battle to restart the Black Mercenaries.

"Be careful. Gilberto's a pain in the ass."

"Mm-hmm. I'm here. But even the flash of brilliance I felt before doesn't reach me."

The power that broke Anatole in an instant. There was definitely something awesome. But I can't see the admiration for once after that. And even when it came out, I was confident I could win.

Wolfe made a move. You cannot see it from the battlefield.

"No sign, no sound, let me get right to work for you"

Wolfe was not at all noticeable on the battlefield right now. An atmosphere like air, just like hundreds of cavalry. What's wrapped around it should stand out with black armor, but still can't keep an eye on it. Turn off the presence with the control of the atmosphere and the sound with technology.

"Arrow joints, right here."

Wolfe drives horses. Next up are the 'red' elites boasted by the Nederks, not the black mercenary regiment. It was near Marslan's side. They haven't lost heat yet. Wolfe decided there was no hand in keeping it alive.

Often.

Wolf Squad accelerating at once from around the time of self-defense. It was too late when Arcadia noticed. Too fast, too strong. A long spear is rolled out. pay for it unwrought,

"Ho, ho."

Between the great shield and the great shield, Wolfe waved his sword to push and widen that gap. The space expands. Between the two oppressed by the pressure of the sword. I fed the horses in there and ate them into the enemy formation too easily.

"Olaaa!"

Twice as many people, left and right, bleeding at the same time. Trying to stop with swords and spears won't stop Wolfe from advancing as he snaps them. Not bouncing back, not accepting. The forged wolf's fangs snap his opponent to pieces.

"With that youthfulness, he looks like Marslan in that stature, a mercenary yet clear sky"

Concerns and obsession with Wolfe had been lost to the subsequent 'red'. They honor the strong. They are attracted to the appearance of outsiders like Marslan. If so, Wolfe is also a respectful subject. Because this monster is strong.

"Are we done here? There's no way!

Wolfe often. It's like going to a deserted field.

○

It was enough for Wolf to fear as he devoured the center of the enemy formation and moved forward. A force that even a soldier who strives to die and stands down can easily snap down, a propulsion that crosses every obstacle.

That's why I've never been able to stop it. I wasn't willing to stop this time either.

"Hmm? He said it fell out."

Wolfe broke through the enemy line. It was a central army considerably thinner than Wolfe's standpoint, and Wolfe was astonished and understood by the size of the space that stretched before him.

"It's a trap, give it to me!

The subsequent 'red' also comes out. With their skill and calories, it would be this much before breakfast. Ahead of falling out, only Gilberto, who leads the Arcadia army, stands in the center of the space. Behind it is a line of archers.

"Fool, if you release an arrow at us in this position, you'll hit your own army."

Wolfe heartily agreed with his men's remarks. That archer has to be considered a shame. If you let go, even a thin central army will shred even further.

But the archers began to simultaneously stare at the arrows. Intention to kill to live in the crack of intimidation. And it's the bitter look on their faces.

"... No way"

Wolf instantly sees the enemy army behind him. Arcadia soldiers trying to chase me to Wolf or 'Red', staring at them, perceiving the kind of grin that floats there,

"I'm not kidding, you bastard!

In a moment, Wolfe advanced all at once. Straight to Gilberto.

Arrows are released. The facial expression of 'Red' collapsed for a moment. Arrows poking around drawing an arc almost horizontally. It was pierced by Nederks' 'red' and Arcadia soldiers.

(The Central Army guards on the front line won't hold until Browstat, which means they're likely to die. I can't take him on a long journey, so I'm going to consume it here... and it's like me or him. The one you can transfer to execution was supposed to be there.)

Wolfe didn't hit the arrow because Gilberto moved to be a shield. By wearing a gill belt on the ray axis, the arrow was prevented from falling.

"I see, I can also snort the high morale. Damn it, Temeer, Carl von Taylor!

A young man with a broken bow squad and has been advancing since then. The figure overlapped with the likeable youth Wolfe saw at the King's Council. And those eyes had made it known that it would not remain just that.

"Thank you all for your dedication! Come on, the stage's set, Gilberto!

The only distance between Wolfe, who was accelerating, and his successor, stopped by arrows, was wide open. Wolfe sighs. Wolfe thinks the most troublesome thing about Arcadia is definitely William. Then the second was whether it was offensive or defensive, but in defensive warfare, he recognized that Carl was troublesome.

William and Root alike. Mastery of defense. And another ability that resembles poison in a homogeneous sense to William or the most powerful talent he does not possess, King Ernst of Ostberg.

(People. They're driving the dead to the dead. I don't think so.)

Dozens of unlikely ones. Now I have a selection of people who can still move, one hand lost, one foot lost, someone's shoulder to lend me and what I can move. Everyone and Carl talked. All of them and Carl knew each other. Carl, the division leader, a seed named Exchange sown in Browstat, named everyone and remembered everyone's story. That effort was linked to natural talent.

There were also applicants from injured persons who were expected to survive. It was a 'day' to miss them backwards, but the applicants were thankfully allowed to use them. Carl made a ruthless decision to bring more to life. The bitterness was also known to them all again.

Injury-centered rear guard morale was extraordinarily higher than others. Eat the arrows on your side, but jump to eat the 'red' that spared the arrows is off track. The request of the beloved division chief, the trust in the division chief, who promised to leave the family to me, and the words of the division chief, who swore that he would succeed in his life-saving retreat and that he would surely crush Nedeluxe at Browstat.

I'm not afraid to die. What scares me is that it will be wasted. And I'm sure this division leader won't waste their own death. We will not forget our own death. So I can dedicate.

"I don't think that's what you've seen so far."

Wolf erased the death behind him from his head. Only Wolfe and Gilberto move in a space where the bowmen bow down and flat in the center of the enemy formation. Wolfe smiles. Even in this situation there is no slight anxiety. I have a lot of confidence that I've worn over the winter.

Show me the bottom line you showed Anatole.

Run the horse as Wolf and Gilberto respond. The target is the enemy general's neck.

○

(And make it look... 40-50 minutes for every horse!)

Wolfe pulls his sword out with a backhand. I am accustomed to meeting here as a one-horse courtesy that has lasted since time immemorial. But for Wolfe, it was as he thought it would be, and there was a desire to distort it somewhere.

(Drop the horse. So, if you can pull me down, I'll put you on the ground)

Everyone thought Wolfe would bring it back backwards in pull-out order. If you add that action, the timing will be a perfect meeting. But Wolfe's sword keeps moving, just a little bit. Wolfe pulls the horse to the right. With that slight movement...

"Instead of Theory, I bent every humanitarian thing first! Let me bend it too!

Wolfe's blade severed Gilberto's horse's neck. The backhanded, horse-necked strength is just fine, and it's no longer public to aim for Gilberto's neck with the momentum as it is.

"Ahh."

At that moment, Wolfe felt like time had stopped. During the thinly and thinly extended time, where Gilberto's neck was, there was only the sky, and as the blade slowly passed through it, the weight as if it were a blade was added from the top.

…………

Silently the monster crouches on a sword that moves at an austere speed. I guess I made full use of the knee cushion to reduce the weight during the moment. When you're too little in the first place, even Wolfe can't tell if you're on or just touching it.

(Yabe. I've never felt anything like this before. And this guy's eyes, they're so inorganic -)

Gilberto spins as-is. No, perhaps something that had already started spinning just came to recognition. The moment the white sword was brilliant in his hand, which he did not show to the extreme, Wolfe screamed in his head. Survive at all costs. Use "60%" and pull out the sword with your left hand before swinging your right hand. The moment Gilberto's sword reached, at the ripple time, his right hand swung, and his left hand caught up with the sword flash on the way out with his backhand.

"Ko, of!

Wolfe was forced to settle the horse because he received it in an unscrupulous position. Gilberto also loses his horse again. This was an intuition that led to both,

(So much so that I fell ill with my horse...)

Falling, immediate action. Craftsmanship you can do because you are a Wolf with out-of-digit physical abilities. But Gilberto also descends to the ground so supple that he does not think he has fallen again. It is an extremely slow movement. Too streamlined, so exceptional a move that I feel late. In fact, it was only a little faster than Wolfe's '60%'. Wolfe puts on her lips as she is stretched out.

(- Sweet! But I'm the one with the power, right?)

This difference in speed can be pushed through with force. That's what Wolfe decided.

Run the ground in such a perfect position that we don't think each other will be right after the horse's fall. Wolfe's proud sword rushes. Even if I take this, I have two swords. Strengths of double-swordsmen who are disadvantaged whether they receive it or avoid it. There was certainty that the force was above. Reception is instant death.

…………

Gilberto enters his nostalgia without making it hatefully cool. I can't use my left hand at this distance. Naturally Gilberto can't use his sword again either. I'm not even willing to use it.

"Jump."

Fold, twist, and replace your body. My leg caught Wolf's chin. Wolff pulls his jaw and kills momentum in time to blow. I got a leg in a sword fight.

Hey, what the hell is going on?

Pursuit, and of course Wolfe's posture is in order before landing. He was in love with the monster's sword moves in front of him as he outstripped his pursuit. In fact, all I can say is brilliant. Bernhardt is right, it is beyond the Admiral. The quality of the sword is too different in the first place.

(Is anger, sadness, even thinking in the way of this guy before he shredded everything off? The power we seek is too different from ours. Damn, this is so against the rules. Hey, William. Hey.)

What is there is a pure swordsman who only severs the enemy in front of him. It would be more of a talent to blossom in the arena than in the battlefield. No emotions, no thoughts. It's just a one-horse machine that fights only with skill and talent that you've built, and that's the true price of Gilberto.

"Huh!?

A sword aimed at Wolfe's armor joint then stands. On the other hand, it is like this by putting out 60%, which is already the limit, from earlier on. The confidence I put on over William breaks down. It wasn't even in the corner of my head. He was a strong general, but I remember his stretch as a general was thin. It was beyond Wolfe's imagination that he had such a talent.

(It's more resistant to digits than it was before. Depending on the circumstances, the range of fluctuations is unusual. I don't think there are any more cases on the battlefield... shouldn't you change your job location?)

Wolf taking a distance. Gilberto doesn't go deep either. The situation was overwhelmingly dominated by Gilbert. You don't need to give it more than you're good one-on-one in the first place.

Wolf muddles the blood spilling from the edge of his mouth with the back of his hand. The battlefield between the two, where only Gilberto's quiet breathing sounds. The absolute predicament, Wolff...

"Oh, that's good. Best case scenario ever."

I laughed and showed it to him. According to Wolf's head is the defeat he received from El Sid, the memory of his despair. If Euwayne had been my shield, I would have died. How sweet of the predicament in front of you compared to that hell. It's just a little overtaken. Well, then...

"You just have to let it out, right? Ahead."

Wolf's flesh screams. Wolf's brain does everything in its power to make the danger known. Ignore them all. Wolfe smiles at stripping her teeth out.

"Sixty and a half minutes, I don't know what the limit is, beyond it!

A bouncing wolf. Up in speed, up in force...

…………

Still unwavering overwhelming skill. Wolfe is sent to advance and avoid the sword of the counter in an unscrupulous position. Even so, Wolfe returns faster. Overwhelming physical ability is what Wolfe has. Attack Gilberto with a move that looks like his whole body is made of springs.

"Seriously!? You still can't win this! Mutually, subtly..."

Wolfe was amazed. Speed, the feeling that you can't win by force. There was a difference in sword talent. A sword technique that is not inherently demonstrated on the battlefield, a liturgical technique dedicated to a single strike. What Wolfe can't hold on to, having pursued fruitful gains on the battlefield. The difference created a situation where you couldn't beat it.

Drive away. Be deceived. I can't get you to take the sword directly from the front. The sword of Ao is taken lightly, and made between them with a magnificent sword of return. Decision-hitting is not mutual, but it is natural for Wolfe, who is operating beyond the limits, to be at a disadvantage.

"The opponent is up there. Damn... that's just bad minutes"

Wolfe looks at Karl. What's there is confidence in Gilberto's strength. Gilberto would win in this situation, that trust was in my eyes.

(It's not a beating. That son of a bitch, he hit me because he knew it. Are you with William? Or a fight in the city? Anyway, did you create a situation where you could definitely win after knowing my powers? Really, today is the day you make me cry that I don't know)

The miscalculations are Carl's appearance and Gilberto's main line. It was natural for Carl, who knew both, to be superior.

Wolfe switched bodies with Gilberto, who lay down his breath and came up against him. Extremely natural body swelling. From there, I looked back and chased...

"I didn't lose just because I didn't win."

Wolf hit the run hand with all his might without looking back. Gilberto doesn't try to chase. Wolfe has already proven superior with his legs.

Carl was calm. Signal the archers and instruct Gilberto to step back. Ready in the meantime. The bow is released. The trajectory was simultaneously headed towards Wolf.

"No, Mr. Carl. There's only one Temeer mistake."

Wolfe rolled back to the front line with refreshment, where the enemy was.

"I hate the damage done to my allies."

Arrows poke. A great shield borrowed from the Arcadia army protected Wolf from the arrows that would kill him. The front line is like a dead body. Much of it belonged to the Arcadia side. However crazy they are in death, they do not reach the wounded, the dead so sharply as to whip them.

It was the Nederks who beat out the central army that protected Wolf.

"I'd make another healthy one a wall. I bet you're floating around in the sidelines with soldiers you don't want to kill left or right, but that's no use. I could have killed him with an arrow."

Nika slaps Wolf's head in the outfit as much as she wants. Ulysses puts a kick in the stumbling wolf. Then Anatole ends up pounding him with a spear butt on the head.

"Assholes are leaving. Then the floating soldier will lay a siege."

Wolfe gets her ass kicked again by Nika. I was about to cry over how badly I looked.

"Shoulder or shoulder is the big one. I can't do this anymore."

Wolfe, no, no. Shaking his head won't move his body, or he exchanged, but he was taken away. Without going after it, the Arcadia army shows them what to miss.

"Why, come after me?

Neeka's questioning made Wolfe angry.

"Mm-hmm. You've decided, haven't you? 'Cause the least I could do was to get there."

Whether the grin is directed at the enemy or at himself, it is something only Wolfe can know. Anyway, for the first time on this battlefield, the Arcadia army took the form of a screw-up to Wolf. It can be said that this battlefield was a great victory when we considered the injured, who did not have the original strength used by the Arcadian army, although there was no such difference in the number of casualties.

It's a very ruthless calculation.

○

There was no grin on Carl's face. Purpose accomplished. The sacrifice was minimal. Still, I feel like this operation has taken me off the road again. Carl thinks he probably has to die a lot. If I could, by then I would be drawn down as disqualified as a general, and I hope to die unnecessarily when anything is gone.

"Sorry, I was almost there."

Gilberto bowed his head in shame. Carl shakes his head slowly.

"It's good. Honestly, I didn't think it was possible to take the life of a black wolf with this hand. If that's what you're after with all your dying power, then Wolfe might have been put to rest, as he says. But then it's the end of the line. Our aim is to retreat to Browstat and defend the city. It's not about dealing with the Black Mercenaries."

Hilda puts her neck over Carl's words.

"So you're saying you're lying about killing Wolf? You lied to me, heh."

Carl smiled at Hilda with white eyes.

"I'm not lying to you. Wolfe killed, at least on this battlefield, and he stopped functioning fully. I could kill you in that sense, and I can tell you that I served my purpose."

Carl largely bowed his head to what died today. And raise your face. He stretched his chest, looked firmly at its death, and flipped himself.

"Starting tomorrow, it's a retreat. Pack your minimal baggage for your first point. Get some rest, both of you. You will be burdened with dozens of people after tomorrow."

The weight of the decision is the weight of life. From here is the battle. If we don't go back to Browstat at all costs and strike back, today's death will be in vain. That's all we have to dodge. We must not waste their devotion.