Tower of Karma

Some time after the battle began, archers controlling the battlefield from the outside seemed bored and stretched. You don't have to control it. They are born in the settlement and die in the settlement. There is no battle for them. Diagrams of the nasal cry are spread out at the scene. The people of the two settlements kill each other, and the mercenaries mix with it. The scene was radiant.

However, only mercenaries on both sides have little wear and tear. Innocent people slaughter with overwhelming skill differences, and only skirmish with mercenaries who are peers. I'm not seriously fighting. But it can't be on them dying right now, like they can afford to realize it.

"... even though I know it's for the organization's money. I want to die a warrior in a war. How long do I have to play with people like this cunt..."

In the midst of his monologue, the man, the archer of the mercenary, felt something of a fear.

"... dude, this is again for a long time"

Turning his gaze toward the frightened, there stood a boy. When I was playing with that bear, the boy I saw. He was quite powerful, but lacked the smell of battle. He was killed and didn't smell blood. Residents of matches and matches everywhere. That's what I thought.

"Good eye. I'm going to be drawn in, I'm going to be swallowed up, I'm going to feel like that."

"Will you put your weapon down and retreat?"

"Ha, don't let it shrivel. Let's do it till it's over, we kill each other!

"... I guess. You all say that."

The boy runs out. They shake their heads in small pieces, brace left and right with irregular movements, while maintaining considerable speed and penetrating. Man, let's go. That boy knows archers don't like it. The worst opponent for a bowman is a deal that doesn't narrow its focus and comes further forward.

Especially the warrior who turns forward against the bow opponent is strong. If I take it off, I lose. That risk lowers the hit rate. One or two shots, how much room will they give you next time?

"An idiot! One shot. Bogus!

Arrows unleashed to inspire. It was sucked into the head of the forward leaning position in a straight line, from which it was dodged in an unbelievable motion. Paper heavy and flexible movement, as if it were a beast. It was not in a man's experience, it is a difficult move to calculate.

"What the hell, dude!?

Smart as a beast, wild speed of reaction beyond man. If you were sent at this distance, there would be no two arrows. The man throws away his bow and holds his sword. Quite a few places as a man warrior. A fierce warrior lined up with Kampeiador. That's why there was a world I could see.

"Tell me your first name"

"... Flabio Rico. Master Maximiliano's archer, that's my pride."

"I remember."

It was just a merger and it didn't make for a meeting. The boy who had conscripted the vanguard in the first pull-out turned off Flabio's arm and killed the weapon. I snap my neck on it. As flowing, efficiently, there is no emotion in its eyes. Zero degrees sagging.

"You laugh, too."

Look at Flavio laughing at death. Boy, Alfred suddenly shrugs. Spill gastric fluid onto the ground and face forward with no emotions. It doesn't matter what you throw up. I decided to move on. We decided to save them, and still save them.

"incomprehensible."

Still, this is the only way to go. First, sharpen the archer. Because no one notices, and that's the least damaging way to do it.

"... three more, huh? Plus one or two, that's it!

Do what you have to do. That's all.

○

The man who commands the mercenaries on both sides decided that one job was done. And then I'll kill all the settlers on this side and let them win that side. With that in mind, the man is (which one is it? well, they're both together) and mocked themselves.

Fools dancing as I thought. But for a new era even fools like them come above themselves. Roles are given. Wheat, grapes, vegetables, they make. Make it to live, and feed on its consideration. They live and make it again.

There was a wheel. Back in the day, we were supposed to be inner circles too.

Times, worlds, wanderings, vanishes. We're the vanishing side. Understanding that they knew and could not change, they chose the path of natural extinction.

I waited for the world to kill me.

"Captain, is it time to finish?

"Oh, the farce will be enough. Finish it."

Instructions fly to mercenaries on both sides. One strikes, the other retreats. One settlement perishes, one remains, and we wind up wealth from both sides. That's it. That's it.

"Okay, I'll kill you."

"We're all retreating. I can't do this anymore!

"Wait, mercenaries. If we're not here anymore, Ola, what are we gonna do?"

"I'm sorry. It's not mercenary fashion to hang out until you die. It's a battle water. Win or lose, that's what it is. Next life, pray to be on that side."

"Oh, no. He said you guys would win."

"There's never been a battle. Did you study?

The falling loser side. Without the mercenaries we had counted on, we would only perish. He fell, saw his dying body, imagined himself to be, and finally they gained a sense of reality. Fighting, losing, dying.

"You guys don't fit in for this any more. We're leaving."

The mercenaries walk out as they kick the crowd. If you look up, there's a grin sticking out there that you make fun of the bottom of your heart, and maybe they won't look up and know it. Because they don't have the guts to look up in front of despair.

"Uh, I'm tired. Just go back and hold her."

A man who turned his heel back faster than anyone else. The moment I turned back convinced that it was all over, then an arrow stood through the gap between my head, my helmet. A dude who doesn't know what happened. When they saw it, the mercenaries stopped. And look back. From the 'rear' to the 'forward' of the war.

"The battle is not over yet. You're fast enough to hand over your sword."

Look at the boys forming on the high ground, they're gross. Because the eyes, the atmosphere was so similar to the monsters they knew. Still born, but no doubt the boy lines up with them. creatures of a different character than ourselves. Even at this point, you may not win.

"Archers handled 'everything'. We have the good fortune."

The two heads I kicked with my legs were archers on the 'over there' side. But the mercenaries know. That the archers on the 'here' side are also tailored for more than no movement here. Precisely as he says, no more favorable conditions for the archer, ground profit because he put zero obstruction altitude in its hands. Shooting mercenaries the furthest away perfectly increased their persuasion.

"Come on, fight, mercenaries! There is a chance. Let the advance work. Where's the reason to leave?

Alfred spoke, bowing unconstitutionally and releasing an arrow. It draws a parabola and sneaks around back to finish off one of the mercenaries who tried to assault Alfred. Its accuracy, its unmatched flight distance, and the mercenaries get completely barometric.

Just by one boy.

"Or is it also why you can't fight?

Cold gaze. Looking down. They knew that. by the Absolute Powerful. Eyes held by the king of the battlefield. Different answers will kill you. If you hurt your mood, you die. If you turn to the enemy, you die.

"Ha, even in these times, are you born"

They were remembering the king of memories. In those days, there were countless brilliant stars. Believe in each power, in each hegemony, at the end of the road that went -

"War. The war is over there!

Only one war. Look at the mercenaries that are going to be sucked towards it.

"That's it. Everybody, get out of here!

The man, the captain, shouted. Mercenaries returning to sanity.

"The pocket money is over. I'm not dealing with that right now. Don't forget, we left our end in the organization. That's why we're not done. For a good end, now be patient. The big war is almost upon us. Coming soon."

Mercenaries from both sides lay their swords together. Fools on both sides who admire what they do not understand.

"You've got good eyes, boy! Let me retreat here. Or do you want to kill each other?

"No, I won't shoot you if you want to retreat. Just get out of my sight."

"Ha, they hated me. But maybe we'll see each other again. I saw the end of it for you. Same with these guys. Our name is Dawn Country (Dawn End). You're a new era, we're old times. Always, be attracted to each other. And then one of them ends"

Alfred didn't even think of them as the people of the U.N., who were so dominant. Whatever it takes, it's too skillful. Some regular soldiers will collapse, like the archer Flabio earlier, and some mercenaries will collapse, like those three. Someone is putting it together.

"... mistakes are made right. That's how the world works."

"Don't let it get you right. People make it right. No other personnel. You're already a party, aren't you?

…………

The mercenaries rush out with a smile at Alfred, who does not answer. Complete the escape without any further deprivation and without changing the boy's mind. Their agility, thorough in their escape, still gave them a glimpse of the high level of proficiency. I don't care if you're willing to shoot me in the back.

"Hey, why 'd you let him get away with it!? They betrayed the oras, and the omes..."

"I gave you back what you took care of. I don't want to get involved in either of these anymore. Whatever you want. Well, here I am."

It is the gaze that glances at the enemy that is directed from the people who are supposed to have saved them. With that on his back, Alfred can't stop smiling bitterly. Would there have been so many funny stories? In the end, only the mercenaries gained. All the others were used and lost money.

Old and young, settlements that have lost many. The relationship with the neighboring settlement, which is walking away at all costs, will change. This sacrifice may draw its tail and eventually take the path to be annexed. But that's what my own choices have invited.

They were inherently warm, gentle, pure and weak. He turned away from his weakness and was swallowed by the desire offered by his strength. The result is now, but they're not strong enough to look directly at it. If you don't blame someone, enough to keep the herd. That's not the gaze of hatred.

It is the gaze of conservancy, wearing the skin of hatred.

That's so funny, Alfred. I cried, moaning.