Tower of Karma

The Royal Palace was packed with participants, officials, and many other foreign towns visited to watch this match. The combination of participants can be described from the king's mouth today. Tournament method one-shot battle. If you lose, the combination becomes important because of the way it ends. The duration of only two days had also increased the importance of the combination.

Win as little drain as you can. Depending on the combination, there may also be a derangement due to the difference in fatigue. It was just a good set of rules for playing. This is entertainment, one of the few shows of power for young people, but only entertainment for spectators.

"Claude, I'm hungry"

"So what is it?

"Meat"

"... yes."

"Hey, hey."

"Yeah."

"Bring more meat than that."

"... give me a break"

Silvi La Gudier of "White Tiger", one of the three nobles who came far from Nederks. The White Rei came to ordain samurai from neighboring countries who could be allies and enemies. More than two years after succeeding 'White' from Amelia as Nedeluxe's second-largest spear user, she had combined enough strength with a somewhat unforgiving degree of intelligence in her position.

Silvi and Beatrice are dog-monkey friends, spears and swords, they can't even be compatible. Claude, who for some reason is sandwiched in between, asks for help around him with a crying face, but the vast majority who don't want to touch their scales just turn away.

"Will you stop using our Three Kings?

Silvi stares at Beatrice sideways.

"That's our general, though. You're the one who has to give up."

Beatrice was also staring sideways at Silvi. I won't take it to the shape of a grand stare.

"That's always tough. The Trinity of the Kingdom of Nederks and Admiral of the Kingdom of Arcadia."

"Raphael? If you have time to hate them, stop them."

"Do you need me to say something? How easy it is to stop it. You can choose one. [M] Either Nederks or Arcadia."

"" It!

Claude, a triumvirate and general, was breaking his heart in front of three enemies. Claude and I do that if we can choose. But he couldn't abandon Nedeluxe, who was a spear master and in a good way a lot of fools cared about, or betray the greatest benefactor to his life. The result is now.

"Fair enough, Bear and Sil stay calm. Cute Marianne brought you a lot of meat in this supermarket."

"" Meat!

They would have been hungry, the two of them began to focus on their meals. My interest in myself was less than meat, and I was glad to note that, but in a slightly less certain mood.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Soba. Am I interrupting Mr. Claude the Motte?

"Uuch. Give me meat, too."

"This is for Raphael, who works hard every day. Oh, Raphael, hey, there's Mary over there, so why don't you go see her? She's beautiful again."

"Huh, you're no match for me. Let's just say it's been a while since I've greeted you."

"Hey, if you get your hands on Mary, I'll kill you."

"Claude eats meat, too!

With Claude on her ass stuffed with meat and having trouble breathing due to Marianne's blow, Raphael turned her foot to Mary, who bickered a little further away.

Seeing Mary the moment Raphael spoke to her, Marianne was gutspawing and Claude was forced to chew a ton of meat with her tough jaw with a seemingly uninteresting face.

There are a few others on the Nederks side, young promising stocks, hostile inspections, etc. Some of the former Seven Kingdoms have their faces everywhere. I guess they also visited Arcadia to 'see' the most momentum now. I don't neglect to observe while I'm bickering.

"Why are you here, Marianne?"

"The person came to give me the invitation directly with the child. You can't say no."

"Who is he... the queen!?

"Talk about who else is there. Look, what a rumor."

A great twist had arisen at the end of Marianne's gaze. There's...

"Three princesses to the three queens, huh? We have no more words to describe Nedeluxe than that, so much so that we can imitate it. Beautiful, each protruding into something. Mother and child."

There were three beauties dressed, and three children.

One is Claudia von Arcadia. An extinct beauty with the most beautiful and greatest blood muscles in the great Arcadia. Combining the beauty and colorful incense that everyone envies, he says, with one stare in his eye, he will feel like rising to heaven as well.

My son had inherited its beauty and had grown into a beautiful boy with everyone's eyes on him. His smile attracts people, and his clear voice creeps into people's chests. It is noted as its vessel, with the weight of the king's vessel, all of which the blood of the Arcadia royal family returns to the throne.

The second following is Therese von Arcadia. granddaughter of the great Admiral Baldias. A lady who was ordained to be made of the power of the king and was royal in front of the gate of the royal palace with one hand luggage. "I took advantage of it to be a force. Take me as your daughter-in-law," he said grandly, making the king laugh and be queen.

My son is also boneless and oligarchy like Takemen's blood muscle again. I have a composure that doesn't make me feel young, and I already have enough atmosphere as an assistant to the king as my mother and I hoped in person. The blood of Bardias will always be the power of Arcadia. Theresa affirms that she is the child for it.

And the third is - a queen of different colours involved in politics, such as economic policy and law reform. Weapons are the source of those intelligences. Ernesta von Arcadia, a woman of sufficient beauty on a public scale, is inferior to her sisters who have also fought the social world with beauty as a weapon.

My son is there. A loving face similar to Marianne's. He is a boy who is loved by everyone and has the kindness to love more than anyone else. Somehow the atmosphere resembled the late sister of the queen.

The anecdote about her becoming queen still stands alongside Theresa's story in the king's capital.

Claudia reigns with absolute beauty. Theresa, who herself mends martial arts and takes it as her spine and reigns. Ernesta intervenes in politics with intelligence as a weapon. Dear Trinity, hence the Trinity Queen.

Your niece, she looks a lot like you.

"... to me, not"

"Am I right? What... oops, here comes our king"

And it is William von Arcadia, the White King, who appears. The air tightens for a moment just to show itself. It would be more difficult to say that a situation in which the person has a culmination in front of him or her, even unintentionally, is not nervous. Silence unlikely to be the same place as the space that blossomed into bickering earlier.

"Welcome to my royal palace. Exotic guests also struggle from afar."

William stood straight on the stage prepared for the hall.

"Now, finally, the festival of young warriors is approaching tomorrow… this is a place for daily drilling, delivering its results, and for the beholder it is entertainment. At the dawn of the success of this festival, we hope to hold a similar event on all Laurentian scales in El Touré. This time the trial stone, the one who leaves, the one who sees, all of them are good with the participants."

World wide tournament at El Touré. The idea that popped out the most of the openings was different in scale, like a white king. If such a martial arts tournament were to take place on a global scale, it would in a sense have the meaning of proxy warfare.

The battle changes itself as a competition.

(You said someday. Is this the primitive rationality, its form of development? War as a competition, not a bad idea. Nothing needs to stop just martial arts. When it comes to competitions ranking in various fields, the gateway becomes bigger. Well, how far are you thinking?

War without death. If that one form is this event, the significance of this out-of-the-box martial arts tournament will also be greater. The load, can it be carried by the young people or not?

"The rules shall be a simple tournament method. Sixteen of the participants go forward."

Sixteen people, the air of the field stirs at the words. The incoming and outgoing participants also had a strange look on their faces, and the three queens in line to the left and right of the king were sending an inexplicable gaze to William.

"Your Majesty, aren't there fifteen participants?

William grinned at Claudia's inquiry.

Sixteen.

I assure you, Claudia took her gaze off William to the word, to the look on its face, to see if she had guessed anything. The other two queens were still waiting for the field to move out.

William watched the entrance and exit of the hall at the end of the mansion. Only he knew that the door would open. That the last participant will show up from there.

The door opens. Everyone's gaze gathered together.

"Attendees, step forward."

A lounge that becomes noisy when you see the person who showed up. Stand in the presence of Shirai, roughly unworthy of the royal palace. I wondered if he'd been running or sweating a lot, and his back was small and round trying to block his gaze. The boy proceeds with his steps in an atmosphere as if he were a sinner, a blame.

"... that's all you got to do"

Claude was looking at the creepy seal the boy was holding onto. There are signs of a simple seal.

"King's life, huh? What are you thinking, that man?"

Some, the savvy, notice. To the unusual atmosphere of the boy, the meaning of the seal in his hand. Don't try to look at the king, see that every time you approach him, the tremor deepens.

"Are you still adamant, for that parent and child"

A boy joining a line of participants. Those who knew themselves had their eyes turned to surprise at the appearance.

"Is it all right? Then the honorable first match combination will be announced by the rest of us."

Whoo-hoo, this is too...

"Game one, Palomides von Gunter vs. Alfred von Arcadia. These two will be the start of this martial arts competition."

Too much special treatment. Claudia's eyes narrow thinly. Raphael remains stunned and rigid, and word of doubt begins to leak from officials of the other participants close to accusations. What is the treatment of using royal life to get his own son to participate and even bring him to the first game without saying anything special?

But why Palomides? More, if you want to foil your son, you'll have as much aptitude as you want. In Palomides, you win. Or have we already talked, huh?

A farce letter that comes to everyone's head for a moment. The word eight hundred floating at the same time.

"Encourage me as a representative of everyone. I hope so, Alfred."

Alfred shrinks when his name is called. Apparently unusual. I don't try to keep my eyes peeled. I can't raise my face. This is as if you are afraid of your father, William. I have a blue-white complexion, a trembling body, and a slight glance escaping without eye contact.

"What's going on, Marianne? What happened while I didn't know?

"I don't know either. But I'm sure something was causing Al to keep his distance. To escape from your brother, from the royal palace, from the gathering of the nobles, as far away as possible -"

"The atmosphere was changing for some reason... whatever, then we can't fight. My mental state is too harsh. If you push it, it's going to fall."

Something happened. Something nobody here knows about.

Alfred had a twisted self-derisive grin on his stifling body, on his worn mental. No matter how big you say it or find a role that suits you right now, in the end, it's just an escape. To escape from my father, from the royal palace, from everything.

For not escaping the gaze of intent to kill.

Alfred died that day. He was killed. To my real father.