Tower of Karma

The battle between Claude and Lester had become an unimaginable development.

It's more important than you can imagine. No, should I say Claude's spear is making Lester look good? Anyway, Claude continued to respond without breaking his basic posture to the harsh and spontaneous spear. Respond to oddities with your best hands. Temporarily you may turn to the back, but as long as you keep letting go of your best hand, any one of you will turn to the advantage.

Claude is going to solemnly slap down a powerful, self-contained spear. There is no rough side that usually looks like a calm spear. Even though Lester was the one who was attacking him, a strange diagram could be made that said Lester was the one who was attacking him.

There is a glimpse of a piled tradition from the soothing claude.

"Are you his associate?

"It's a rotten edge"

"Aren't you worried?

"Hmm... 'Cause he's a general and a samurai. And no one complains about it. No, I stopped telling you. Even though it's unprecedented, we've all accepted it in just a few years. Simple, straight, no back table. I'm strong enough for that. Because I'm an idiot."

full width trust, it would be slightly different to call it. At least she's the only one worried about Claude on this occasion. I don't even give it a bite because I don't even give a slight shake to the hearts of soldiers floating in trust.

(... Nice. Hot on the cutie! I'm turning around!

Ulysses switched her head to what she had to do because she wanted to die when she looked at herself unconcerned. A request from the White King already doesn't make any sense. It is out of contract to save Alfred, who would be in the plan from here.

(Now, what should we do with the contract? I don't mind... he'll care)

I need a leg to save. If you look right to the side, there's a horse with a nice hairy hair.

(Sounds fast. And the hairs are good. I want to be stroking all the time)

Ulysses was stroking people's horses around unaware. It was so good hairy that it returned slightly to the child's heart. White, and great to touch. Sounds fast.

"You, Claude, getting to know you means getting to know you, too, Alfred."

"Do you know where Alfred is right now!?

Ulysses laughs bitterly at eating more than he can imagine.

"No, I can only do some anticipation... by the way, your samurai told me to take care of him, and I'd like to go rescue him, but I don't have legs. I'd appreciate it if you could lend me that horse... what do you think? The reward, unfortunately, is hands-on."

"Marianne! Lend it to him! It's harder than I imagined, but maybe the original plan isn't bad. Ha ha, give me some water. Really!

Claude, the arrowhead that Ulysses tried to start making excuses about holding, broke into conversation. A man called Ulysses has been asked to look after Alfred. That's enough. Tonight's plan, at least 'that guy', didn't just banish his son.

If only I knew.

"Shh! I'm motivated!

Claude's motivation is nagging.

And, of course, Marianne smiled...

"Alfred, please. That kid is like our brother. Please, save that child, knight. Lead her to the future she desires."

Look at Marianne bowing her head with a realistic look. Ulysses breaks his leg deeply and gives the knight his thanks.

"I swear by my sword, that promise -"

"Gahhhhhhhh! Nice, that role, I took it on!

"" "Huh?

Old knights across refreshments and horses. Even Ulysses was distracted and so grand that he couldn't move, and without any hesitation the old knight said, "Hi yo!" and ran the horse.

"Hey, hey, wait, Gora! Stop it, Heavenly Lion!?

There is very little room for Claude to stop Lester's onslaught.

"Ugh, horse drobo! Return Will II of Marianne! Marianne raised you from the pony! It was expensive!

"Ugh," roars the old knight running his horse to Marianne's scream. I grabbed one of the rings snagging around my chest with crap. Put it backwards: "It's the price! ♪ And throw it away. ♪

It drew a beautiful parabola and stepped down at Marianne's disposal.

"... a ring, a green stone. Wow, I wonder if it's emerald. That's not it."

Marianne was about to be lightly acquired, but I remember and resent that horse being taken, even though it could have been a bailout for Alfred.

Only one person, Ulysses, looked up to heaven and laughed.

"Don't laugh. Follow me!

"No, of course I'm going after you. I want to see the end of this strange night. No, no, but it's funny. Who sent for you? What drew him? Damn, not at all. The world is full of reading. 'Cause even that guy takes his reading off."

Marianne floats a question mark when she sees Ulysses looking like she's out of her mind.

"Oh, I know you're worried. But don't worry. If you were him, you'd do better than me and all that. He was more of a knight than anyone else. He said he was more of a king than anyone, and his eyes were said to foresee a thousand miles. He will guide you right."

Ulysses' eyes were sparkling. Eyes as if to see longing. What can we do but laugh forward at the glory and frustration that everyone knows, and the still fading glow that is broken?

"Lester leaves it to you. Don't lose from here. You still have a role to play in telling me you can fight and lose... so keep winning until you lose to me."

"Unplug it, snake! Go after him!"

"... rude with a snake. Now, gentlemen of Arcadia, somewhere."

Ulysses ran out intact. The soldiers around you are fast enough.

The heavens give way to the dragons. The earth belongs to the lions.

Of course, I'll take back the heavens.

More than a dozen seconds late for the old knight driving the horse, Ulysses also disappeared from the main gate out of Arkas again.

"All you have to do is smash this guy."

"Gi!"

The battle between Claude and Lester became even more fierce.

○

The boy's wear and tear was evident in everyone's eyes. The enemy, bystanders and himself knew the limits were close. But there are differences in the way the three parties think.

The enemy, the Ostberg heavy-duty cavalry, initially had some surprise at the boy's struggle, stickiness. But that's not enough to disrupt the line, it's not enough to dilute their vengeance.

But by now, beyond surprise and doubt, they were supposed to fade, creating a very small disturbance in formation and battle. For one reason, in all this meeting and chaos, there are still zero casualties. Boys don't kill. There are countless fine lacerations, steeples removed, but also major scratches caused by arrows and spears. In it, the boy has not yet defiled his hands with blood.

(... why?

With them like ghosts. Formerly men, samurai. I am familiar with the fact that it is harder to defeat an enemy without killing it than it is with the difficulty of killing it. Why does he not kill in this predicament? Can't you or won't you - if you don't, that can also make you peel. Knowing how easy it was to kill, Shura also threatened to crumble this advantage.

That's why I can't step in. Continue your advantage and choose a battle that strangles you with seriousness.

The bystanders knew exactly why they couldn't kill. I can't kill you, not kill you, I've never slaughtered a person. The skill of a stakeout sword, spear, and process doesn't talk about zero experience killing that much. There is also a natural temper, but first there is one person, if you don't kill him, there is no awakening.

(Kill him, Alfred. Killing one creates fear. Killing two or three creates hesitation. If you kill ten people, the herd of that size will fall into dysfunction. All you have to do is take the fast legged horse you're staring at and break through the collapsed siege. I would. Not impossible with your strength)

If you give them enough fear to smear their vengeance, the Live Path will be born. I would do that myself. I can do that myself. And at the same time, I knew Alfred couldn't do that right now. Can you suddenly kill someone on this occasion if you didn't lose your sister - that imagination is enough.

(At least lose your mind. Before you die. then the reason for stopping this hand disappears)

The bystander is still unable to move with his bow up. I'm stopping myself from trying to pull myself off full strength. The coincidence resembled Victoria when she decided to cut Rutgard off. I want to scratch my whole body, I want to rip myself to bits trying to cut it off. Even now. There is no contradiction as to why this hand should be stopped, what is wrong with protecting your beloved, what is wrong with you through your ego, I am the king, and I am special.

Kill them. Try to steal my treasure.

There's nothing I can do to make it.

(Oh, I think so too)

I remain weak for as long as I live. Born weakness to follow even if you think you've transcended. William doesn't think this stuff is kindness.

I'm a coward.

"If you shoot me, you will."

The king doesn't shoot. Surely Alfred would be on the ballside in terms of ballstone. But at this point, the replacement works. When I was a young child, I raised my son without any desire to be king. If you want to make a king, there are three who gave birth with that intention. The connection is sufficient for Raphael.

Shoot here and there will remain proof that the king showed special love. That can be a scourge, a spark that causes collapse ten or twenty years away. Sai has been thrown for a long time. Alfred can either be buried in a world other than Arcadia as a king or he can be one in two.

There are no exceptions. No exceptions should be made. It's all because of the herd, and that's why I bothered to keep everything special away. I erased it.

The king is equal. So...

Boy, Alfred was amazed at how much he was scratching his feet alive and dirty. I've never thought I was worth anything. A prince with only titles that are not worthy of use to his father. Even the business fled to the corner, reluctant to take it away from others. Run away, run away, and if you realize it, you're about to be killed by my father's unleashed assassin here.

I reasoned with something and ran away. Open your mouth and it's all excuses.

Yes, that word you said was worthless was another excuse.

I really want to be recognized by my father. I want to be loved. I want us all to be friendly, hands and hands together, a world free of resentment, a happy world. I want to be loved, to love.

I want a job where no one gets unhappy. I don't like to see people go zero. I kicked him down to compete with Nicola to make money, I don't like that guy's eyes. I get the money, I see it. I hate those eyes that are changing. I don't like that place where I wave my sword and nobody comes at me anymore.

I just don't like remembering. At least I want you to show me prettier memories if you're running a horse lamp. Those days in the North, my father, my mother, myself, just the three of us, a closed, kind world.

(Woohoo, but... that was a lie. My father didn't love me, and maybe even my mother, didn't love me. It was a marriage to stay connected to Taylor, and sooner or later, it was only a connection until he was reinstated. Think of it that way and everything will fit. My mother, too, cut it off because she no longer needed it like I do now. I made a mistake. Whoo, my heart, my memories, they're breaking)

Alfred is about to cry.

(Help me, Father. Tell me you love me if I'm lying. While I'm me...)

A broken heart. A spear that adds a little sharpness. steeple that I have unconsciously avoided until now. Little by little, the attack began to shoot through its vicinity.

(I want to live even though I keep saying it's worthless, but objectively it's worthless luggage. I don't want to die. Really, I hate me. Ugly, not pretty, egoist, no strength to look straight at it, humble, just waiting to be given. It's just a memory, sweet to the kindness of Mira and the others. I don't even have the courage to step into Ehlis)

Emotions disappear from Alfred's appearance. As if something warm is coming from a cracked heart. Little by little, that was sure, changing him.

(I hate me. But 'I' seems to love me and can't wait)

A spear burst through the horse's mouth into the arms of an enemy soldier crossing it. It was done with arms because the soldiers prevented it, but the aim was clearly the neck, steep point, which is the joint and drive of the armor.

There's a grin on Alfred's face. It's a grin of my father's kind.

"Sorry, Father. I don't want to die."

The appearance of the beast.

"Keep your distance, everyone! I'll stop at a distance!

They chose the optimal solution to Alfred's transformation. The transformation of my son, who couldn't even read through his father, William. They had seen time and again the moment when a man would fall into the beast from a long history of war. I also watched the hero eggs do that in that laconia. The experience gave birth to the right response.

The beast does not kill by force. The beast kills with wisdom.

In addition, Alfred's response was poor. I was too comfortable killing him. For the first time, I missed the action of eating the move that I had been trying to get to bring into the mix without taking a distance. For one more moment, if there's at least a little gap in thought...

"Damn, at least give me that horse over there!

The response was too fast. I don't have time to straighten out a plot. There's no room to kill and mess it up.

"As long as it's that horse, you can't escape. I even thought about picking it up with my own hands out of vengeance, with a carefully hunted blade, until I changed my hands if there was a way to live there. This is a punishment."

Arrows unleashed with signals. It rains and pours. That's not how many I can sweep.

"Son of a demon who died and destroyed his country."

The only thing that comes to mind behind Alfred's brain is the word "live". So he simply took action to do so. The moment the arrow fell, he slipped his back and shielded his body. Too lively and dirty, an ugly way to avoid it.

"Is the devil's child a devil?"

The survivors of the Ostberg Heavy Duty Cavalry flashed their faces uniformly. There is no better way for him to live than by losing his leg where he lived that moment. Take more distance and just shoot an arrow to pack. He has no legs or respite to crush that distance.

Yet he gave another life to live.

"I'm sorry, but I don't want to die"

Alfred was crying with a grin of the beast against his deeds or against his predicament. I can't see it in the dark, but it looked like blood, tears of blood.

"Don't destroy the devil. The dawn of Ostberg is near!

An arrow was released again. This time there is no hand to prevent.

"Help me, Father."

Is the pompous and spilled word a beast or a person?