Tower of Karma

The ultimate dinner party with the prestige of nascent Arcadia. Surrounded by gastronomic drinks and surrounded by spectacular music, people sing, dance, swallow and eat. Everyone uses "Long Live Arcadia" as a toast signal and raises a glass.

Beautiful deep red liquid. The clear, swinging lid is also beautiful.

William also exchanged liquor, talked, and sometimes danced with heavy towns in various countries. The dance of the White King and the second generation El Sid, which in a way became today's sights, invited everyone to laugh that it was a tremendously boring but perfect dance.

Dancing with Lydiane marked a fierce step, and the surrounding gaze would have been solitary if a dark hose named Gilberto and Hilda hadn't stormed around next door. Gregor and Sürvia's dance of momentum and power alone was also reputable as interesting.

The tightening is William and Claudia. Graceful and elegant, loosely luscious, in the brilliance of sound, they add even more radiance. The sight of everyone breathing. They were creating a view where all attendees at home and abroad would fall in love.

From now on, the poisonous woman, who many times will hinder her path, laughs with pleasure. The fact that I met everything was quite a favorite for her. He chose to dance only elegantly, not to wiggle the usual excessive colour.

Arcadia's Mistress, come here.

Exactly the view of heaven. An enchanting paradise reached.

William sat alone in the trail. The king's seat where he had sat until earlier. The best chair overlooking paradise. The crown and the throne, I see, I am indeed the king, the ruler of this tragedy. They leave food scattered all over them, and there are signs of someone throwing up in the corner.

At this moment too, while someone is hungry and dead, we spit it out and throw it away on top of our fill. I don't even think about sharing. No matter, sub-dream paranoia such as distributing this wreckage to the rest of the world. A meal that starts to reek of rot in a couple of days. It will be best to divide them in the King's Capital.

That's not the point. I know that's not what this is about.

"Still can't do it. This is the world."

William plays as he twirls the crown. Large appearance, handling, but only precious metals. It's just an accessory with no weirdness whatsoever. The throne is just a chair, too. It must be made of superior materials. It sits great, but doesn't have any special powers.

Same for myself. The first thing I thought of when I became king was still this kind of thing, the giving up view. I was wondering if maybe some special force, thoughts, would bud. A majestic royal palace that I've been watching since I was a child. The inferiors to Tularn, after all, symbolized authority for themselves was the royal palace of Arkas. The Lord of his place, a special being that the citizens do not even see.

Nothing. I am unchanged and "William," and the consciousness of sin never vanishes, and the path that never wavers. Nothing changes. Same, just human.

"Hey, the king was a human being. Nobles, citizens, and slaves alike -"

William wipes the liquid from the edge of his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Same, red blood. I stand on two legs, and I have both arms on me. I have five fingers, and two eyes. No nose, no ears, no mouth, they're all the same. Yet people discriminate. As usual."

Raise that hand on the ceiling and narrow your eyes to the light that spills out of the gap.

"That's unforgivable. So I'm moving on. Heavenly Fate Remaining, Bet Everything."

William doesn't know how much he will live later. I dared reject it. King Ark, imprisoned by the remnants of sorcery, in conversation with him, heard the king's own heavenly destiny. Its eyes, full of certainty, showed no grief or grief, but only readiness.

William spoke of his' path 'there. You wanted me to ask a man who was king more than anyone, but had no choice but to stop being king because of the curse. It was also weakness, and time in that plain was just a time of relaxation.

After hearing it all, Ark said with a pitiful eye, "Heavenly Fate of the White King, you want to know?" I've been asking. William gets lost. I don't have that much time left to see from the look on the face of the king. I can count backwards from the finish line and proceed efficiently if I know. So you should know. Reason tells him to listen. But sensibility denied it.

If you know, you'll be saved. That's what it means to know the end, he said.

"We need someone to carry on the road. Find or Grow."

Due to the traces of plush blood, the distance ahead of you, one day you will have to find a successor. It is also ironic that it is the successor to take office and think early, but we do not know when humans will die. Tomorrow, he may fall ill, or he may be poisoned to death.

I am fully prepared. Still, there are always more holes than being human.

That is why the successor must be headlined as soon as possible. Person who can carry on his path and be given further innovation. I don't need my successor to be alone, but the king, who is the head, still has to choose one. Now, the closest thing to a successor would be Raphael. Royal blood muscle, personality is serious and well noticed. Good memory, too.

"... but weak"

Weakness of the core, I wish only that part could be changed to Claude, but that's impossible. As it stands, even when it comes to nurturing, the qualities themselves come up with question marks. Humans, I know if you dive a dead line, it will turn into a dead line, but the problem is that there will no longer be a clear dead line ahead. Not on a large scale even if it exists. The turmoil grows on its own. People keep coming out into the world on their own.

I don't have it. I am honestly not sure that I was born in the time to come and gained the strength I have now. It's not an easy time, but it's also true that there will be fewer training grounds directly connected to death.

Huh, floating thoughts. It was a devil's whisper.

"... just kidding me. Don't make that choice. That's all... don't float, don't think"

But when I realize it, it keeps floating. There are paintings so precise, so cold, so cruel that it is no longer the only one.

"Fuck, it's really, really hard, I... More than this sight, more than anything else, I hate you the most. Unforgivable, crumbs."

William stood up. Unquenchable and indelible thought. That was now the biggest nightmare for a human being named William. But if that nightmare is the only way to live, it is also a man named William who must take it.

William leaves the trail of his dreams in heaven. A nightmare that won't cool - to be sure.

○

Clear today. At night without clouds, the darkness was lit by countless stars centered on moonlight. The closer you reach, the closer you can see it. But I can't reach you no matter how far you reach. The light is far away, as far away as you want.

"Welcome home, Sire William. Oh, I'm sorry. He said not to return His Majesty before you, etc. The royal palace is already your residence."

"I'm home. Aha. Don't tell me you're lonely. I think this place is my home. By the way, where's Alfred? Are you asleep already?

"Oh, boy, I thought you were doing your routine in the courtyard."

"Routine?"

"Yeah, he's a very well done kid. Even though we are still small, we have not lost a single day since Rutgard's death, and we continue to have the same routine as your father, His Majesty."

"... not one day, indispensable, huh?

"Yeah, can you see it?

William nodded without one or two. Formerly Taylor's mansion, now creeping through the gates of the mansion owned by Lewius. Don't look, you shouldn't. It's a bad day. Let's do it tomorrow. My heart screams.

Still, the moment William saw it...

"... overnight movement, not"

The nightmare became clearer.

The blonde blue-eyed boy was waving a bladed sword for archaeology as he ripped the darkness at night. The realm of object imitation yet. Though it is his original flavor that hasn't emerged, its completeness traces William's sword through detail so much that no one in his generation has lined it up.

The grass at your feet is stripping is the fruit of the boy's efforts. I used to trample the lawn here and vandalize it. I feel taste and effort in my breathing, during, and at the ends of my movements. I don't have a nature, and if I could work as hard as I do...

"Don't be shrewd, Alfred"

"Chi, Father!? Why are you here?

Alfred stumbles with an interrupted concentration. That's evidence that I was firmly frustrating my body and running it to its limits, left.

"Every day, I hear you do it. I didn't know that."

"Oh, and please keep it to yourself."

"Did you want to surprise your father?

"Yeah. Father, when he trains like this, he does it alone in silence, doesn't he? I thought I'd do the same."

"Why?"

"'Cause that's a better one. Like my father, I want to be too."

William's heart almost complained of a strained pain in Alfred's words. I want to be like myself. That's not the word I said knowing everything about myself. I know that. I know, it's supposed to be...

"Right. Then let's improve our father too. Alfred can't go beyond that."

"Well, your father became king, so skip it."

"I don't think so. The walls have to be high."

A nightmare that's going to be rebuilt in my head. Clearer, clearer.

"Yes, Alfred, let's do good stuff"

"Treats!?

(... you're too poisoned by Marianne. The more you feed, the better.)

"It's a better one. You're gonna love it."

William invites Alfred by hand. I shook my hand and headed to my room.

Alfred has barely ever entered his father's room while living in the same mansion. My father was great to the boy and he had an atmosphere that he should not have invaded somewhere. But if you've been invited, it's not a story. I've always been intrigued. Dear Father's room, tell me what's there.

The door opens. A sight that used to remain a sneak peek through the gap. Books tightly arranged in bookcases stretching up to the ceiling. It had a simple desk and bed and was a less decorative room. Maybe the room in the north must have been built the same way.

Among them, the only one that exists as a decoration.

"I'll give you this room. Dad won't be able to come back here much either, and this is just the right opportunity. Everything that's here, you can use it as you like."

Alfred's eyes were not books, they were directed at the only decoration in this room.

"Is that good, too?

There's a sword in the direction of your finger.

"Oh, that's yours. The same as your father's sword, the Lucitanian sword. I was going to use it if it broke with the same build as this one, but this one doesn't break wonder. That's a really good sword. And only two blades in this world"

William grabs it off the wall. dust, and handed that beautiful sword to Alfred. The sword of a husband and wife the same as William's sword. Bridget Ray Feelin's sword.

"Pull it out and see."

White blade to be unplugged. Alfred was blinded by its beauty. A slightly more supple form than my father's sword. Same and not the same. Performance as a sword, maybe this one is better.

"Only my father and you hold, this is the sword of destiny. Always, be attracted to each other. That's the kind of gravitational pull. If Alfred were to go after his father, he'd know what that means."

William graciously held Alfred.

"You are free. You don't have to go after your father's back. You can always get out of this spiral. Your hands are still white, and I have time. So live as you please."

"I like Father. I liked your father. I like your mother. So I want to be like my father."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that. I'm so glad you came after me."

These are curse words. You can't be happy. There's no way I'm happy. Still, if you say this, if you say this, this kid's gonna come after you.

"Shall we go to bed? You'd have been sweating, wouldn't you? Wash your face and get dressed. Hey."

"Yes! Today, your father sleeps here?

"Oh, I'm going to."

Alfred blushed his mojos and cheeks and lay down his eyes on the spot. William grins and strokes his head in a palpable reaction.

"Go quickly. It's been a while since I've slept with my father."

"Yay! I'll be right back!

William scratched his hair when he saw Alfred rushing out of the room. How can I be so heartless? I don't care how much I sin. I'm not human. It is not a human place.

"Hate my father. Don't forgive me, Alfred."

As he stroked Alfred's cheek, which slept easily next door, William despaired and hated himself in a world he could not help.

○

William recognized that this place was a dream. It's been a long time since I've gotten in so clearly. I'm sure the work I've built up today was more deeply rooted than usual. Same as Victoria, Rutgard, her own cut off favorite. It's more than that in a way.

"You're done. Today, this tower is complete."

"Oh, right. I wasn't looking away. Still, it's the first time I'm finished until I find the next one, beyond the end."

Do you hate yourself?

"Put your hands on your chest. I know how stupid that is."

'Haha, right. But if that's all you have...'

"I'll just do that. I don't have a choice. I can't compromise."

"If that's the best we can do, it's us."

"Exactly. Look at me, countless corpses at my feet. The tower of the deceased. At once in that war, there were more bodies out of the digits. I led them all. Everything you see here is my sin. There's no way."

'There will be more. In the years to come, if competition intensifies, there will be people who will fall absolutely zero. We didn't save it and chose the way to go further. The way to go by leaving overflowing people on the way to change. The pain is hard on the tongue'

"I know. Who is the hatred of the world?"

'We run through with everything on our backs. Until the day this tower collapses'

"No matter how many sins you lay, for the light of some day"

"For a Glittering Future"

"'The rest only moves forward. My hegemony." "

Karma's tower saw completion. From now on, it will continue to stretch vertically and horizontally until you can no longer carry it off. However, the stretching tip of the tower and its shape no longer change.

The White King stands alone, on the tower. At your feet are the dead, here is nothing but despair and hatred. That's fine. The lack of salvation is salvation. If you keep being blamed, you'll shake it. Hear the number of the dead, and the grievances, and the king shall set his readiness.

World, mourn, world, mourn. The White King just builds up his business while he's on the road.

A history book passed down to future generations. There was a mention of William von Arcadia, the White King. Because of his accomplishments, his many policies, it is credited that it was only in recent years that he was an extremely competent king who did not choose how to do things as research progressed, but until then the White King had been called this way.

Demon King, and.