Tower of Karma

The battle between Kyle and William ended without so much time. William is held against the wall with one arm. The victorious Kyle's face had a complex tannic surface.

"Have you lost weight?

"The Royal Palace also has a hard time eating things. They haven't eaten as much as they did before."

"The accuracy of the sword was increasing. Do you need to be busy working out?"

"Oh, and still I feared this was the only difference. You're strong, Kyle."

"... my strength hasn't changed. If that's what you felt, you're weak."

William's expression remains the same. I know the extent of it even over the mask. He knew. that I am getting weaker. If you get close, you'll see. I've eaten less, that's not the change. Shut your mouths tight, your swords speak loudly.

"Right. Phew, here's what ordinary people do when they skip a little. Let's take some more time to work out."

(I told you it was more accurate)

I'm not missing a workout. The sword's skill itself is rather up. The problem is with the body, it won't be food. He's a king, and even if he was in a demon cave called the Royal Palace, he should be far from hungry. Then there is only one answer. Kyle had also lost his wife because of 'it'.

"... do you really have to be that girl?

If it's true, I want to save my friend in front of me. But the fact that it doesn't come true was a different way 'that day', I understood enough. I'm not willing to stop my friend from walking now. I don't even deserve to stop it. Still, the tragedy of having to throw in a son you're supposed to love in that dead place should have room to stop. Because it's a tough road for her and for the friend in front of her.

"Best as a vessel so far. I'll have to have some other vessels to see how it grows in the future than off my hands... but still no more than Alfred von Arcadia right now. That's the answer, Kyle."

A king is one who leads. Refers to those who choose the best path and guide people. There must be no exceptions there. Because that's what he thinks the ideal king is. In the past, many kings made exceptions and moved away from ideals. I can't help it because I'm a king and a man. Kyle would think so. But the man in front of me doesn't think so.

A man named William von Arcadia makes no exceptions.

"If there's a God, don't you think it's too bottomless?

"I think so every day. Ever since that day."

"... right"

Take your beloved sister from the boy who says Al. I gave love to the monster who said William and made him take it away again. Now tell him to give it to his son. It would be a terrible story. It was all his choice, even if it was the royal road he was marching on, convinced by himself.

"I could die soon. But I'm not giving in to death. The doctors are looking into my body right now. Think and try again and again about which medication works and which procedure works. And record. I'll even let death connect me next. You know what I mean, Kyle? It's too trivial a step from human history, but I will surely reward that son of a bitch with one arrow. Let the disease that took Favela be swept away from the ground one day, too. It is the royal road to eradicate all tragedies. If it's a sacrifice, I'll do anything. Anything."

Dedicate even your own body for one step. Believe that the pile of steps will be the way to go one day. That is why I do not grant exceptions. It's the punishment I imposed myself. What do you do when you break it? Neither my own will nor that of my son has anything to do with it.

Do it if it's best. That's all.

"If I tell you not to, you won't stop"

"Of course."

No shaking of any kind. The question is pointless, and I understand that.

"I still need you, so I'd like you to let me go if you can"

"... you still got something?

"... of course"

Kyle didn't miss William's eye shaking for a moment.

"I cornered Alfred as a farce script and kicked him out. I don't know about it in my head, but I don't think there's going to be any more clowning. If there was one, that would be Snakefoot."

"... snakefoot, of course. It's not about farce."

"What can I do for you in the middle of the night?

"... the king is busy. It's great."

"Ho, well. You're a parent too."

"I don't understand what the people are saying."

Kyle let William go with a slight grin. Even over the mask, a blurry look can be seen. I'm sure he's going to drop off his trip outside the farce from now on. For confirmation, just in case, there are many reasons, and still, he must have gone deeper about that kid than anybody else, to the best of his excuses.

William walks out with his back to Kyle. Second, stop your legs and look back.

"Wash and remove the paint on the child. Damn, monster kids are monsters. It's not easy to fall asleep. Besides, it would still be difficult if the fool had to deceive you."

"It's me and Favela's daughter. Of course. You didn't look much alike."

"Hmm, soak it up.... I know it's a snake foot, but one advice. If you want to keep that child under control, let the man marry you early. If you tie them up at home, they won't stop."

Kyle rocks in horror.

"If you're not willing to stop, 'you' are ready too. Whatever you do, whatever you aim for, it's this time of year, and it's difficult in this position. It's not as easy as turmoil. You have a way to make it a little easier. The name I threw away is worthless, but yours isn't, is it? If your daughter wants it, pick it up and use it."

"Come on," William laughed when he saw Kyle piercing his silence.

"Well, if I'm in your shoes, I'll keep it down even if I die. I don't think that connection will make me happy when it takes over my path. If you think of your daughter, you have one choice."

"Mira probably won't stop. The heart is like him, so he's strong."

"I guess...... it still doesn't have to stay. This is a really fucked up world."

"Oh, right. I really do."

This time William didn't turn around and disappeared from Kyle's sight.

Kyle carries his precious daughter with him. At that time, I touched my belly, which should have a scratch, and confirmed once again that my friend's skill was amazing. The moment I cut it off, I put the blade to sleep and hit it with my belly. Double-cut skin bags and thoughts. Did you cleave the paint you planted there just before or after you slashed it? That's just one word when that savvy kid didn't notice me and did the job.

"For a long time, only cunning hands have been first-class."

That's why Kyle had a pathetic grin.

"... will you take the disease from me, again? Fuck you."

There was no strength of a gladiator king in his poisonous appearance.

○

Every step is heavy. The stench fills the guts, vomits many times, and all that comes out of earlier is stomach fluids. The contents had disappeared a long time ago. Even if we avoid contact as much as we can, the more we end up moving on, the more clogged that care seems pointless. All the sources of odors in all directions.

Alcas' odorous problem, which has been seen as a problem for a long time. It is also a comfort for the brain to think that cleaning before construction starts will be gold, etc. He was at least skipping consciousness elsewhere to relieve the odor of splitting his nose. That makes little sense, either.

My consciousness has become blurred. If you notice, the smell is gone. There's a sea of manure in front of me, and if so, my nose must have been paralyzed.

I still don't see the light. Still, your feet go forward, steadily one step at a time.

○

Claude, who flies out of the royal palace, goes for Daimon, the entrance to Arkas at first sight. A martial arts tournament like the one that came down and sprung, a rare dependence on the king, an assassin who suddenly appeared, the king's bedroom that was emptied, even Claude, who prides himself on being an idiot if he connects everything.

Everything was set up from the beginning. This night, he said it was a farce.

(The script is King, and the arrangement for the performances and actors is Dear Ernesta, Ha, Isn't that a good play? You call yourself Topsta, too. Hey... Really, Hinoya, William, dear)

Beatrix who tried to follow a walking claude, but he was abruptly left behind because he couldn't keep up with the speed of Claude, who got furious and serious. "Heh heh heh. You're only fast on your feet, huh?" is a total loser.

"Get out, get out, get out, Olah!

Be clever at the same time and sometimes use spears to jump, jump over hedges and other cares for the people. It is a good nuisance for the person to be cheered "Yaya Yaya" for that appearance. Well either way, I can catch up with even my voice on my back before the wind runs like a disease, so finally. By the time they hear you say anything, it's far from the other way.

(It's upsetting because -)

Besides, right now, I can't afford to worry about other people's voices.

(That we didn't even have a role to play, Really, it's annoying, hey, Marianne. What are we to you? Are we other people to your son? Goddamn it, I'm still nothing to you)

A thorn thrown at Raphael stabs him in the chest with a scratch.

I serve quite well as the king's sword. I'm proud of that. At a time when force is about to become a decoration, that is why force must shine brightly. It's done. Arcadia, Nedeluxe, in the two great powers,

But what I really want to be is a family-like exception that goes beyond status, honor, and usefulness. I understand you can't make it. We both know that. Still, I can't stop thinking that I want to be.

By being helpful, Marianne is just escaping by taking a distance.

(Damn it. If I smash this farce, can I be something to you? Enemies are good. Anything at this time is fine. Don't ignore me.

Even in my heart, Claude can hang out all the time. Ahead, I'm not even allowed to think about it. I'm not ready to reach out, I just live as the strongest decorator, after all...

"Hurry up, me"

Run anyway. It would be better than not even the damned momentum.

○

In his hazy consciousness, Alfred saw the light. A light that is fine and likely to disappear now. Even such faint light, scattered just by touching it, was so delightful to weep in this hell. I can smell the wind just a little out of the rotten odor. Even if it's still in hell, it's in hell, which is why I think its a little breeze, even remnants, is loving.

What is this feeling?

Does this feeling belong to me?

Or are you also dreaming...

…………

It was a tragedy everywhere. Separation from the beloved, crying wooden spirits. A common landscape in this world, just everyday. Yet, for some reason, the tragedy smelled of the wind. I saw a faint, fine light.

Normally, people forget after a while. I can't stand the tragedy, so it's normal to find an alternative and weather it. Forget it, I'll drive you to the corner. When I look back one day, the extent to which I can bring tears to my eyes. The one you love and the other. I just split the blood. That's the same.

Still, he didn't forget. The weight remains the same as it was when I lost it. Years go by. I see, he must be a beast. This world-changing beast, indeed, it could be light.

She loved the existence that changed the world. Special treatment was given. The world we loved, sacrificed and left behind. Half-century stagnation is not something we can forgive. People have to move on. For that sacrifice to be worthy, move on, and, well, what was the hope of my 'guys' -

It was the beast that reminded me of that. I thought he was a beast, he was supposed to be a beast, he was the king of men. Love was given to the beast, the beast remembered love, and the beast loved man. Originally a deeply loving child, he truncated that loving late, one love, and turned it into the same pillar of man as the whole service, himself. Is that because of the consciousness of sin in the Beast Age, or...

He became king from the beast. He became the one who leads from the destroyer. It reminds her of her first triumph. Reminded me of an accomplice I didn't love. Woohoo, it was still light. I believed that day, the light that comes from loss.

At the end of the sacrifice - there was light.

It's a great pleasure to thank you, to love you, to love you, to love you.

Such a sentiment is on my chest.

"Oh, yeah. The air was so good."

The light you give to hell is so beautiful, loving and beautiful.

"Why am I crying? That's weird, I'm happy, but I can't stop."

If you noticed, Alfred was out of Arkas. Forests on the outskirts of Arkas, where trees thrive. Alfred looks up to heaven with gratitude and emancipation from repression that he doesn't normally feel. We have a good moon today. Isn't it a great moon and night for traveling?

I have anxiety. There is no determined path where to go. No destination, no goal, nothing, but that's why I can grab that hand for anything. I can go anywhere with that leg. Nothing blocks me. There are no shackles that bind me.

If you look behind you, the capital of Arkas stands in the dark at night. Would it have been an illusion to Alfred today that it seemed a narrow cage, not a beloved home?