Tower of Karma

"Uh-huh."

The more Silvi clogged his voice, the mansion was in its former glory in the past, yet in ruins. Once crossed with his neighbor's fortified superior Campeador, the three nobles who broke the nose columns of Bernhardt and Kaspar, young men of Arcadia's stretch, the son whom Youser had immersed in the battle against Cukrein, and who was then expected to be his successor and next generation of the three nobles, had already become useless.

"Lord Tirza, welcome to the Lintblum family. It's a house with nothing, but you should like it. There's nothing left here."

The right leg of the man, the Lord, was lost and supported by a stick of wood. Lost my father in front of me, I need to reclaim my damaged honor. I need to drill and go to battlefield in search of martial arts. The Lindtblum family, made irreversible by a full-season Bernhardt enriched with haste, consequently, both strength and strength, and lacking those who could fight, were forced to fall.

"The Valo family lad is also here. Absolutely no noise. Master Epheline is also insane. There's no way I can understand that other than my father."

Having said that, and pointing out that, Amelia, the Sanguyen, was awaiting their arrival, as was Martha, the present Sanguyen, who was wrapped in red armor. Next door stands Sneaky Anatole as well.

"All the time, this guy's just a bunch of jerks. The weak Trinity, the same time you betrayed your country, and me who can live like no other? Damn, Nedeluxe and all that shit. Arcadia is better. You made a mistake, Arcadia kid."

Marsus and Amelia shut up. It was we who led our country to a decisive defeat. They thought it was their fault that Sanguyen fell so far. But Anatole and the same generation of men recognized that their generation was the generation of immorality that could not be connected.

Anatol also remains silent again. Jean and Anatole at the Academy of Fine Arts, the man who was located directly below them, but who, like Jean on the battlefield, was completely above himself. Despair in which that future was turned down and the opportunity to look back was lost. I was an arm, but if the loss was a leg, there is no guarantee that I did not. Though I wouldn't have let you live in your own capacity in the first place.

"There's no future. I've lost all of this country."

That's how you wait ahead of the invitation, the remnants of your former glory.

What is left but yesterday that will never reach you again in this fallen hall?

○

The ruined mansion, but only the section was well cleaned, leaving its former glow intact. The great hall of the memorial that has left the footprints of Sanguyen Yousar.

"" Whoa, whoa, whoa! Super. Yeah. Yeah!

Claude and Marsus sparkling their eyes were a bunch of de flashy costumes, the relics of Youser. All the bases are red and gold embroidered, and there are bad pictorial surfaces in the eyes. Claude and Marsus, who would have the same sensibility for the flashness of the painting of the man who wrapped it around, would have done well.

"They say the dragon in the embroidery of gold is not a dragon, but a motif inspired by the fantasies of the East, beyond the sealess desert. Beside the divine hunt, you're a Nederks-like leftover who was looking to cross the desert, which is a sneak contradiction to gathering information about the East. The back and the surface are filled with desire."

The sarcastic man, too, only the eyes that see them had a faint glimmer of his former glow. That's why I guess this man's despair is deeper than anything else because he was really burning and aiming.

"Damn your hair... I think I'll stretch it too"

"You know! Arcadia kid."

The moment Claude praises the hairstyle of the man in the painting, the eyes of the man who is the dominant shine in a giraffe.

"Heh, it's a stupid question. d flashy spiral through heaven. Hanyida, which takes a small hour to set. Your father said so. That's the hair that lives in a dragon."

"Lord Marslan? You were trusted as your father's spear bearer, Jen. That's good taste."

"I tried once too...... Amelia and Fenke threw cursing noises at me"

"It's a haircut that only the chosen one can do. I have no choice."

"How are we gonna set this up?

"I'll tell you next time, boy."

"I appreciate it but good. It's the haircut that inherited the glorious Nedeluxe, once cutting edge."

Everyone else who sees the three of us getting closer in an instant with dead eyes.

It's one sense I don't understand, especially for the women.

"But even if you understand the taste of your hair, you don't understand this."

A few books a man took out of a certain place. d It is a flashy fitting, and whether or not the title branded as Ryuno also raises expectations on top.

"This is the dragon-type guide my father, Youser, left behind."

Those who did not show any shards of interest until earlier flock. One missed claude is grated. He is the only one who knows the Ryuno type, the history there, the glory, that it has been lost, nothing. So I don't understand what they're fussing about.

And...

"... I see, this is too"

I also didn't understand the disappointment from it.

"What's going on?

Claude peeks, and there's...

'Fly first. Fly, fly, then spin your hips all the way around, twist your wrists around, put your hips in and punch in with cancer. Punch your opponent's aiming eyes in with a gunshot aim, and if it crashes, fly again. Occasionally I crawl through the ground and punch in, flying again. Ganging in from there'

The illustration was in. But I guess that's also handmade. A bunch of too terrible descriptions for a less ingenious painting. Rather than being hard to understand, I couldn't even catch a glimpse of the dust trying to make it clear. No, I guess I was willing to try to make you understand more than I even illustrate.

I just wasn't very good at who fatally created this.

"Everything's fine, it's all like this. I tried it based on the illustration. I managed to unravel my intentions and tried to embody them. But one thing, I couldn't get close to him. How many?"

"... well. This is what you couldn't inherit a dragon."

Anatol stares down at his contemporaneous repentant back.

If only I had lived at least, I would have had a chance to connect. But in reality, Uther died, and his son could not decipher it, and history was lost.

No one else will appear to inherit it it.

"... let's go Claude. Unfortunately, not now."

I urge Tirza to go home to Claude, drooling with pity. There was nothing here. Understand that what you were looking for is already in the past and nowhere in the present.

"That's why I said it. There's nothing here."

But...

"Claude?"

Just one person.

…………

I looked at the book like a hole was hollow.

What comes to my face is a full smile. In its eyes is a strange sentence unintentional to the ordinary man.

But in those eyes, there was definitely something.

○

"... whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa."

At the end of a distant horizon, there was one person, holding a spear, waiting all the time.

"Write it down yourself. It's hard to read."

The man laughed happily.

"Thank you, kid. And now I'll die without regret."

And stood up flashy. Its eyes, its appearance, everything the man constituted was telling the story. This is the Three Kings. He said this is the spear Nedeluxe.

That this man is the 'Red Dragon Ghost' Youser Les Lintblum.