Tower of Karma

Alfred's impression of Medraut was more of a floating sarcastic than a sage, clearly a disgusting person. There are things that you don't have to be Alfred to look around and mess up, whether it's a banquet seat where knights or knights cross. A knight following Medraut for a long time and a raw Britannian knight. In a tingly air, he's the only one laughing...

"Shall we all dance? It's not too funny about guys."

Carefully turn everyone upside down.

My daughter, Athena, has a stomachache or has her face all the time distorted. The knights on both sides start dancing with no music, even though they don't defy the main command and just stare at the target and kill him.

He would be a disgusting master laughing at it.

"Why are you doing such a pointless thing?

"Hmm? It's because they 'do' it. That's funny, right?"

"... there will be more to do"

"Then you do it. I'm not so fond of hanging out with you, kid mean or knightly looking. You're a king, not a parent."

The king was clearly unhappy with their evil appearance with his nose.

Alfred understands why. On top of that, the boy couldn't understand why he was referring to such a bad hand.

There's a quicker way to fix this.

"Athena looks pathetic"

"That's what I don't care. What a princess playing knight. If it gets hard, you can just run into your sister like you always do."

"You still..."

Alfred is barometrically pressured by the strange light in Medraut's eyes.

"You're a little too arrogant. If you're serious about becoming king, don't make me get the bait, not feed you. And make them pay. The king is not a gift. It's about the one who stands at the top of the usurper. That man's son doesn't even understand that?

"Now, that won't matter."

"You really think so?

An eye that sees through everything. It's like when you confront my father, you feel something thick, even though there's nothing to stop you. Something like an invisible wall is blocking it.

Not just myself, but others as well.

"That's what I'm going to worry about so that the guy doesn't have any wasted hands. If you look bad, you either have a muscle you're missing, or you're overwhelmed."

Medraut flips the body.

"There are situations where people hate you, smash you, and you need it."

As it is, he leaves the situation where the knights are dancing in an evil way and leaves one of the banquet seats. Actions that just make you solicit hate. The king is a popular business, and it is supposed to be, but he conjures the opposite. I know what that means, but I don't know.

"You'll have had enough. Your Majesty has been withdrawn."

"... Lord Alfred, I have shown you an unseemly place."

"No, I'm sure of it."

"Never mind."

Put the place away, Alfred assembles the calculations after tomorrow. Garnia is quick to unify the martial arts with a heavy land pattern, force.

There is one thing to do. Demonstrating and attracting power to them.

If you put your thoughts together around yourself, it is easy to control a group.

○

Alfred tackles the 'interactions' with the knights that have been repeated many times since he came to the land. What we need is a sword, and that alone tells us a story more eloquently than an eye for them than a mouth. It's the common language in Garnia.

"Wow!"

"Do it."

Because it's a story with a sword.

It was the king of this country, the Medraut of Britannia, who watched it with interest in Strachez alone from within the castle.

"You're young, but you're like an old man's sword. He looks deliberately antagonistic with force, though he could really do better. It's a figured sword. I prefer it. Ma, I'm not a crook in Garnia. Is that why you're being rough?"

Medraut points to today's virtual enemies as black knights. Regardless, I have no experience playing Strachez with the Black Knight Angelum, but I fully enjoyed those seven years if I were to speak on the battlefield. Lydiane, Jan, Elvira and his opponents were indispensable in the land.

"Even so, it is a matter of much politeness. In the upper body, it looks like it is undergoing tightness, and it is flushed neatly in the lower body. Are you sorry if it's not perfect, or do you have to? Which one is it?

I couldn't decide on a rating with them. I didn't want to lose, but I couldn't be sure I'd win. Perhaps that's the limit for tacticians.

Same as Strachez. I can't make absolutely a tactician. If you are an amateur opponent, you will still have to win or lose if tacticians who have completed many tactics point at each other flat handed.

"Haha, stupid question. God is cruel and does not allow perfection. Everyone has a chip. There's nothing missing. Because that's the world, and that's human."

pointing at tremendous speeds. The tactical battle with them was fun. The battlefield, manipulated and painted like a limb, letting a trained soldier infiltrate his tactics, because it seemed like a giant creature was killing each other. Huge paintings, magnificent stories.

That's how fast it changes the pattern. He ordered even a few rounds. I don't take time to judge. Run through the best in the shortest possible time.

That's how I first antagonize.

There was a battlefield art that could only be portrayed in the land.

"... at all, I'm so relieved. I'd really like to scold you for being your part, but it's sweet, me."

Medraut laughs bitterly when he sees his only daughter sweating under his eyes.

"This country, no, the relationship between kings and knights nesting throughout Garnia, the distortion created by the rules laid down as Kakuza. A knight who defies his master is shit, but a knight who can't defy his master is more shit, right? Especially this country. Sarasu is the kingdom of Sir Votigan. I don't care if you push me. [M] I'll complain to you one day."

The surface of the plate is fixed at the end of the tone and rin pawn noise.

I mean, the end of the story.

"It's been a long time since I've even exercised. If you don't show me who's king of this country, I'll give you a future education."

Standing up, Medraut grabs the sword and walks out floating.

The atmosphere that rises is that of war. A battle I reclaimed in a death match with the formerly mighty enemies who did so at a fierce rate from earlier. I am proud to have crossed with monsters who also outnumber the White Knight if they are flat handed. At the end of the day, a man who wouldn't let him flat his hands repeatedly pulled on the board, uprooted the victory, and the tactician never looked into the eyes of the day.

If we pull into our own battlefield, etc., all the masterpieces we lost that day think. I intend to fully understand the difficulty of doing so, and although there is no dust, such as suspicion that he is the winner, there will still be no one who does not think.

Though the opportunity to prove it will not come forever more than the world of war has dawned.

Still the rest of the fire is here.

"Do you want to rub it again? A little bit of personal grievance, too."

Arkland's big black pillar continued to support the blank seven years. One of the unreachable driven into the shade by the White Knight. But the hand was definitely on it.

As an artist on the battlefield, a monster of generals alongside the Black Knights.

The power may be exerted in individual struggles.