We Live in Dragon’s Peak

"Witch!

"Here comes the witch."

"Please!

Everyone looks at me with an eye of anticipation.

My whole body, which jumped into the siege created by adventurers as I played the eulogy, and developed a state of battle, has had heavy expectations.

Two men ruled by the curse of the Devil's Sword.

The Devil's Sword in my hand is what Keeli calls a "mass-produced type that brings physical abilities above their limits".

Those cursed by the Devil's Sword lose themselves. And destroy and kill, run wild in search of blood.

But even the Devil's Sword is not such an unlikely performance as to rebuild people from the ground up. No matter how much power you draw beyond the limits of your body, the original skill and ability of the cursed is fundamental.

The two men must be amazing adventurers diving deep into the labyrinth that they have the Devil's Sword in their hands. Still, it cannot be that these two are the strongest of the people gathered around them.

Among the circles that surround you, you can also see dragon people, people who think and exude dragon temper, and beast people with the body of the beast.

Yet no one tries to defeat the two demon swordsmen, and turns his gaze of anticipation to me, the war-witch who rushed late.

The reason is obvious.

You're putting a little hope in me.

Same fellow adventurers. who have a common goal of breaking through the labyrinth.

Some of them may not be familiar with the two demon swordsmen. But as someone who challenges the same goal in the same place, I have a sense of fellowship.

Hope they pray like that.

Please, I want you to save the cursed demon swordsman.

I want you to go back to being a true adventurer.

That's what the gaze of the people who make the rings on the far-roll told the story.

"The Dragon's War Witch, Luiseine. I'll come."

I unleash a moonlight arrow of restraint upon one of the devil's swordsmen, and pack an intermission toward the other. And I flashed my sword without hesitation.

I'm sorry.

I apologize in my heart.

People's expectations. Your wishes.

I, who am supposed to be a priest, betray it.

It's not just adventurers. Everyone knows both the Dragon and the Beast.

There is no art of undoing whoever is completely cursed by the Devil's Sword.

Still, they wish. You pray. I thought maybe a witch could help.

The only one of all races in the world who can heal others by art. That's the witch.

Who embodies the power of the goddess of creation in this world.

But it's not omnipotent.

Even in the art of healing, the recipient will carry a heavy load. You cannot resurrect the dead, nor can you regenerate parts of your lost body.

And there is no way to bring those cursed by the Devil's Sword back to normal.

What if I were a noble princess such as the head witch or king witch sitting in a temple city? If he was a magician capable of using the finest spells.

Maybe I can help. Maybe you know how.

But I don't know. I can't save you.

I'm not the only one. There are no witches, including the kingdoms of Armuard and Jortenithos, who can save those who have fallen to the devil's swordsman.

Therefore I will betray you.

thoughts and hopes of those who pray.

We cannot let them, with a strong sense of fellowship, take on the hard role of putting the fallen into the hands of demonic swordsmen.

Sin is borne by me, the witch.

The flash of the sword intersected the blade of the Devil's Sword without a doubt.

A slight sense of resistance is transmitted in both hands.

And shortly afterwards, the blade of the sword had broken the Devil's sword in two.

Alas, someone leaked his breath from the back of his throat.

In the gaze of the men that surround me, I will wave the sword again.

Blood splashes danced high.

Even those cursed by the Devil's Sword are red in blood, and cannot live if their torso is slashed into deep hangings.

The demon swordsman man, who had no idea that the demon sword in his hand would be lightly powerless, fell to the ground with his red, glowing eyes, which he should have lost reason, pointing flashly at me.

I will see to his end.

Please, may this one be called to the goddess for peace.

When it comes to what I can do to him, only pray thus.

And only to bear the resentment from those who were killed of their companions.

"Luiseine!"

That's when the cry of Keeli to inform me of the danger sounded.

Another demon swordsman who dodged the moonlight arrow of his first blow with his physical abilities beyond his limits quickly took my back and waved a demon sword that emitted disastrous signs.

I am not in such a position to avoid, immediately after my last prayer to the dead.

Everyone, breathtaking signs have been conveyed.

In my gaze as I looked back behind me, the Devil's Sword swung down this way seemed slow for some reason.

"Luiseinee!"

Inea's scream arrives.

I move my gaze from the tip of the impending Devil's Sword to a cursed man who turns to kill.

And I gently closed my eyes and offered my prayers.

Please, may this person also have peace.

Shit, I heard a blunt noise.

Did the air tremble? My hair, which I was putting together on my back, is flowing and my coat is flickering.

I slowly opened my eyes.

It was a big back.

From its back, which blocks the tip of my gaze, were beautiful wings of silver.

Thick tails grow from around the top of the buttocks, and this one is beautiful silver.

Silver flames that should be burning right in front of you but don't feel the heat to burn yourself.

"It's as if you knew from the beginning that I was coming in to help."

"... No, you don't. Not from the beginning. Last minute."

A man on my big back, blocking my gaze, looked back.

Reliable man. Elnea, the dragon warrior you admire with your brother.

It's Mr. Zan.

The dragon's eye was catching it.

Shortly after I packed my time with the devil swordsman's man without hesitation. As you decided, Zan freed the dragon air among the people who make the circle around him.

"After all, can't you even save me? Then I can't just make you feel bad."

"Thank you. But this is my job as a witch."

Mr. Zan's big back stretches out in front of me to protect me. Out of it I confronted another demon swordsman man.

But that's Mr. Zan there.

There was never a battle before I went out.

Mr. Zan was grabbing the gripped arm of the Devil's Sword with his left hand and eagling the head of the Devil's Swordsman with his right.

And the silver flames that Mr. Zan unleashed all over his body were enveloping and burning demon swordsmen.

"And then there's me."

"I don't think it's moving anymore, but don't be alarmed."

Tell me, Mr. Zan, get your hands off the demon swordsman.

The demon swordsman remained wrapped in a silver flame and collapsed.

But I'm not breathing out yet.

Burning, sinking to the ground, still trying to move.

Sounds painful. Hate it. Something to remember.

"I'll make it easier for you now"

I put on a celebration with my heart.

A pale blue pillar of light envelops the man.

"Ahhh..."

The man slowly stopped moving as he looked up to the sky.

The Devil's Sword, when spilled from a man's right hand, makes a blunt sound and rolls to the ground.

The pillar of light remains enveloped with a man who took his breath away and a demon sword. Then, the Devil's Sword faded away the disastrous signs and eventually transformed into a one-handed sword with no transformation whatsoever.

"Goddess. May two souls be purified by your mercy, and peace and tranquillity be attained."

One last time, I offered my prayers.

The adventurers and those who make the siege who watched without the art of doing so were quietly listening to my prayers.

"You're done, aren't you?

"Yes, Mr. Zan, thank you for your cooperation"

I'll give you my apologies. Mr. Zan was nodding at it, but finding the Devil's Sword that had fallen to the ground.

"Your sword is no longer cursed."

This, too, is a strange thing.

If it were a normal demon sword, it would be rusty or decaying enough not to retain the prototype at the same time as cursing it. This is how the Devil's Sword, known as the Mass Production Model, becomes a normal weapon even after the curse has been cast.

Explaining the circumstances, Ms. Zan nodded again as she was convinced.

"Then you will also purify another wave of the Devil's Sword"

Say it. I used magic again.

The curse is also cast from the Devil's Sword, which was in the hands of the first man to the end.

This concludes our response to the Devil's Sword and the Devil's Sword.

I turn my condolences to the two deceased men and retrieve the two swords.

The temple is supposed to retrieve the weapons that were cursed, just in case. And we will dispose of it collectively later.

Even though the curse is cursed, we can't let it redistribute as it is.

When we recovered the Devil's Sword and raised our gaze, the people who were making rings around us in far-flung windings still remained without breaking up.

And you're staring at me.

My gaze hurts, that is.

They killed my people. I was abandoned my countrymen. He didn't hear my prayers.

I take their blamed gaze head-on.

People are not doing it conveniently.

Whether you understand it or not, there's no matter how much you don't agree with it.

If they can lighten their hearts a little by blaming me and resenting me, then bear this burden with joy.

I stood firmly at the heart of the siege, with two swords in my arms.

Then one flexing man proceeded from within the circle.

He's an angry, strong man to see.

A man approaches me looking straight at me.

Mr. Zan tried to break in silently between me and the man. I control it, and I confront men directly from the front.

"Witch......"

"Yes."

"These two have been my old companions"

"... my condolences"

"We've traveled together since we were traveling for a year, and we've also had a number of unsafe adventures. The end of the day, this presence has not yet..."

My chest is tightened to a man's voice that squeezes out of the back of his throat.

Put yourself in the priesthood, I hope, how helpless. We have no magic or words to heal the hearts of grieving men in this way.

"... were these guys happy? Have we journeyed to the end of falling for the devil's sword?"

A man shifts his gaze from me to two men lying on the ground. Tears aren't the only thing on my mind, but it's a very sad look.

"The Dragon Clan will sooner or later deepen their wisdom to the Mother Dragon God and complete hundreds of years of long dragon life. I think both of you and you have worked hard to get your blessings to the Goddess's knees one day. So please put your chest up. You two embarked on a journey to the goddess before you. You have to live your life again so that you can brag about the future of the story to the two of you who left earlier."

Will my word ever reach a man?

I have lost the lives of my dear companions, I am a hater.

The man returns his gaze from the remains of his companions to me.

Jeez, a man staring from a high position.

I looked back firmly into the eyes of a man.

"Witch."

Again, the man shrugged like that.

And he knelt before me.

"Thank you. I was led to the end by a noble witch like you. I think these guys traveled happily."

"No, I..."

"I pushed the hard part. I escaped the fallen figure of my dear companion."

"No, I'm not. I, as a witch..."

"Dear Louiseine, the dragon witch, I extend my heartfelt thanks. On behalf of both of you, I would like to thank you for your courage and compassion, represented by my old companion."

As the man knelt down and joined his hands to me, words of gratitude also poured down from those who continued to make the circle of siege.

Your gratitude resonated deeply in my heart just because I was prepared to be resented.

"Good for you. You did a fine job."

"Yes......"

Mr. Zan seems to have decided that he no longer needs to see me through.

Pong, and tapping my shoulder lightly, I left lightly.

"Good day, Luiseine"

"Good luck. Good luck."

Keeli and Inea, who have finished treating the wounded, come and work for me.

"And then we will"

The empty clerics will also rush to carry the bodies of the two deceased men.

When I deposited my two swords with the priest, I returned to the Great Temple with Keeli and Inea.