Tower of Karma

At first glance, Kyle was grasping the situation. If you're a warrior, you don't have the familiar smell, and only the look of that habit is obviously lethal. Then it is the death of the crop, and the purpose will be to awaken the boy who now bumps his anger in front of him.

All the moves I showed off are top notch. The more they couldn't handle that change alone unless William knew them well, the more they accurately imitated without switching gaps.

"Mr. Kyle. Me, because of me..."

Seeing Alfred, who was still so worn out that he was about to collapse, Kyle glanced at him with bitter thoughts. I know what I've seen of a boy, strong and weak. Nevertheless it was the first time I had seen him so worn out and weak.

"... I'll be fine with Mira. I guess the wound is shallower than it looks. Blood's already stopped."

"... but"

"You worry about yourself. You can leave this place to me."

The farce will not be disturbed. No matter how frustrated the situation is, that's what the man decided to do. To deny it and break the farce is just a blacksmith without power.

"There's only one way out of Arkas at night"

Kyle continues his farce with the utmost thoughts as he strokes Alfred's head.

"This is the path my friend once used. Harsh, but I can still use that path. of redevelopment, the last phase. Parallel to the construction of the tower, construction is supposed to begin. You know what I mean?

Alfred instantly gets the answer from the tip. Sure, then maybe we can get Arkas out of here. It is too harsh, unclean, and carries the risk of death to say the way. Even a few cuts can lead to death.

Still, there was certainly a way.

"Even a broken sword might have a use for it. Pick it up."

The sword that the girl who once fought was raising on her hips. Similar to my best friend's sword. Same origin as the man whose best friend took his name. Again, notice the fact that you were turning away.

To live, to rise, how many sins did he commit?

"Come on, come on."

"Yes, sir"

I just stroked his head one last time. A boy who looks different but whose atmosphere and gestures look just like his former best friend. I'm sure he would have lived like that if someone important had lived? Gentle, unreliable somewhere, and then my head turns.

"I won't let you go."

"Mr. Kyle, that person..."

"Go. Don't worry, I won't slash you. I'll keep my foot shut."

"You're a confident man, you're big."

"Absolutely. I'm strong."

A swelling fighting spirit. The seriousness of a man called the gladiator king rises. Alfred gets relieved when he sees it. The best technology in my knowledge belonged to my father, but the strongest existences had already been updated. Knowing my father today, on the battlefield, that doesn't change.

In the first place, I'm sure...

"Anger!

"Huh!?

Kyle, the king of gladiators, will have his face in battle again.

Alfred rushed out when he saw his father blown away without impending because of his destructive power, which could not be wiped out. I can't use the sword I raised on my hips anymore. The blade will only be useful for about throwing, and the broken sword in the middle is the same size as the small sword.

Still, my heart lightened a little thanks to the strongest that stood behind me. I'm sure Mira will be fine. There's no way that guy is gonna let that monster take away his precious daughter. I'm sure it's okay. I just hope so.

"Did you go?"

"Sounds like it."

We don't understand each other.

"Well, it won't be foolish enough to come back, but still, often, I'll have my sword crossed."

"Oh, I know. Besides, I feel like fighting too. You, the father, hunted him down. I can't forgive you because I know what you mean. Plus he got his hands on my daughter."

"I'm too strong for you guys. To put him to sleep gently,"

"I'll put on an archery. Long time no see."

"Archaeology isn't your face, Kyle."

"It's each other, Al"

"You're the only one who knows that name!

The sword, the extreme of intensity, looms. A zero degree sword intercepts it.

In the corner of Arkas, the top showdown began.

In the form of a farce, one, accompanied by flowers.

○

Currently, a champion of the arena, the man brought his souvenir liquor under Kyle, the master of his life, with one hand. It was time for Alfred to finish, and he was motivated to learn a little bit about his post-retirement work.

"... it's an accident to go out without dropping a fire."

Maybe there was something urgent. Otherwise, the more serious, safety-friendly, artisanal skin would not be able to leave the fire unattended and go out.

"Rest assured, Mr. Kyle. Wonder, this Apprentice One is on fire."

There was still warmth in the chair where I sat. But the man watches the fire without thinking deeply that it would be because of the fire. Think about hitting it with iron for a little while, or you'll be pissed off and stop, and there's no other love whatsoever -

○

Black Star just happened to find Alfred running away. Of course, from the trail of his men who had been stunned, he had made some hits, but he was still found alive. To the feeling of fluttering, he was no longer comfortable suppressing.

We already scratched ourselves and encountered and survived our father, the King. I guess I've identified it. Let it live, that's what the king decided. If so, her mission, the king's faithful servant, also took the form of an end. But...

"It's that fight at first. A thunderous battle, that day, I met many samurai."

As an assassin, the emotion that was supposed to have died in him because of his relative to the samurai had rekindled the spark that was supposed to have been wiped out. That increased the fire a little over time, and today, I couldn't stop being hit by that boy's talent.

"Try to fight with your moves. It's not this little assassination technique, it's real moves."

A boy who runs desperately somewhere. Still on the way, but still the talent and driving that just overflows will be fun to interact with. Speaking of luxury, I want to grow a little bit more before I fight, but rarely do I have the chance to fight grandiose like this.

I wouldn't be able to say luxury. Just a little taste to the point of not killing...

"Black Star (Haysin), what are you doing? You've already done your job."

"Ha, Senior White Dragon. I was just trying to play. 'Cause don't stare at me like that. It's okay, I'm an assassin. Do your job properly."

At ease, the black star took a position where he dropped his hips without a sense of strength.

"There's no words and no action."

"Oh, yeah."

A black star that comes packing a stir and an intermission. The white dragon also sounds the bones of his whole body, and takes a well-equipped structure. Both, relative in an atmosphere unlike that of an assassin.

"You and I are assassins. I can't go back in time."

"The desert, the discrimination, the hunger, the thirst, took pride from me. I tried so desperately to forget. Even the Inhumans can live, the Dark Residents. I don't have a problem with rice if I get to meet you with a tricky move. Just the right comfort for a broken heart. Just living days."

"What you're looking at is fantasy. In Laurencia, in the West, we have no place."

"So good with temporary dreams. Just for a second, that's about it, okay? This is the night. It's not bad that I was a little stupid. Yes, it's a bad day. Blood, make a scene!

Black stars packing their time loose and slippery. In a small motion, it emits a fist as if it were powerless. There's a loose fist from a loose motion.

"Seismic legs, you, are you serious!

"You don't know what to do, seniors!

Powerless behavior. But there was a big crack in the cobblestone at my feet. White Dragon intercepts with fists hardened like iron on the aggressive. That's a blow that crushes meat and crushes bones. It should be shattered with a fist punch without a sense of strength. But that blow...

"Oh, wow!

While offsetting that devastating blow, he retreated the White Dragon.

"You had a loaded husband. Since when?"

"Well. I forgot, that old thing."

Slightly weak. But the blow is powerful. That would only look magical to anyone but White Dragon. Martial arts that have been piled up with reason not found in this land. White Dragon also remembers the day of his presence in the power emanating from the momentum long forgotten.

"Sounds like you're gonna have to chill your head a little bit."

"Please, seniors. I'm gonna wake up real quick."

Same arrangement as each other. White dragons are tough, black stars are soft. A move that doesn't exist in Laurencia hits me. In the corner of the farce, another farce adds flowers.

○

No matter how much I knew a downtown human being and was more immune to such things than a normal nobleman, the sight that spreads in front of me was a huge deviation from tolerance.

One of the major problems of a city called Arkas is the negative impact on sanitation caused by the deterioration of sewers over time.

Originally, it was the first business carried out by the predecessor Eduardo, which at the time was quite an installation, but no decent maintenance would be carried out afterwards, and when deficiencies emerged, it would be repaired and other joint-like starts and ends.

A major eyeball in the redevelopment of the city, handled by King William, was its maintenance. A great deal of work should have been carried out to cover the deeper, larger and increased population. At a time as if it had been foreseen, an untouched and hellish picture was left behind. If redevelopment hands were in place, there would be people out there who would recognize this place as a path, and it would have been suppressed as an escape route with the highest priority.

This hell is no place for a candidate. Even the crevices of insect bites, rotten filth, piss-crossing rotten water and featherworms that are here, maggots, offend people from all directions.

"... Ha, ha, let's go, let's go, let's get this far, you don't go, you don't!

Different odor piercing the nose.

"... we're moving on"

It's sticky water that takes your feet. A mixture of solid-crossed, spitting, practically uninformed puke that just puts you in sight and makes you nauseous.

"Why am I on such a path?"

Squeeze your strength and push your heavy feet forward. There is no stopping or retreating. Alfred just has to move on. There was no place left to go, and it became impossible to live in Arkas. My father, the king, did not intervene, and I still had eyes to live with this.

But it's synonymous with death to stop, more than the top affirms it will be intermittent.

Whatever happens, we just have to move on. From the moment of his birth, he was noble and, if he realized it, the boy who had become royal kept moving forward by triggering a hell where even his subordinates were not close.

Believe me, there's light ahead.