A Wish to Grab Happiness

"Ann. Are you following me, too?

Holding onto it to make sure it feels like a new little hand, Kalia says.

In front of the gate that separates the inside from the outside of the walls. Still in front of a closed gate, Largud Ann clasped her shoulders as if she could say no.

"I don't have combat skills, and besides, I'm only a guide. I won't do anything more. I thought I'd use my free time today to go to another business partner."

Larguedo Ann's small fingertips with a large barrel are instructed to mean outside the walls.

Outside the walls. Now the gate is closed because of the early morning and I can't confirm it, but there is another city there, no, it should be called a residence, whatever it is, something like that exists.

Only citizens who have gained citizenship can live within the walls. Or only licensed merchants and adventurers. Otherwise humans are not even allowed to go one step beyond the wall. But a man without a job or skill hears only the economic virtues of Gallu Amalia, and takes all the desire to find a job.

The result is a slum around the walls. Bottom of the Bottom of the Distress. Neither the archdeacon nor the citizens who rule Galuamaria will ever acknowledge its existence. Those who just continue to live that day. Imagine that life, your eyes narrow when you are reminded of who you once were.

But having a business partner in a slum doesn't make Largud Ann a tranquil person either, apparently. Perhaps we should look into Mr. Nines' introduction.

I guess Kalia is not interested in slums yet. When I nod lightly at Largud Ann's words, I see it's going to be useful, etc., but I'm identifying the small user-friendliness. I'll tell you what. Your shopping was the most expensive. I hope you don't complain one bit.

"Say what. It is understandable that ordinary people hate luxury, but it is no longer the virtue of moderation but the virtue of stingy that does not spend money on what is needed. Rugis, you're the one who doesn't know what you're buying."

"I'll give you the word back, Kalia, what will you say? The new tone of weapons, especially knives, is important. Even chewing tobacco has the convenience of not fitting into preferences. Later on, you can use the adhesive liquid when camping."

I flaunted my shoulders deliberately, as though to say to me that Karia was the one who had no choice but to show off and respond to my purchases as if I were proud.

I don't know, awesome, unconvincing. Why can this guy even act like he's a common sense person?

- Gowwwwww... Gowwww

As I ask such questions, the bell announcing the morning rings around me. At the same time, the guards moved the trick and began to open the main gate.

Wow, a voice that often passes through the city as a large number of humans travel inside and outside the city strikes in the ear.

"- I'm sorry to keep you waiting, but that's not enough. The second bell isn't ringing yet."

That said, a woman dressed in a red and black coat raises her hand. Fiarat La Borgograd, the magician. The pattern of the coat shows well in contrast to her black hair and eyes. Slightly heavily equipped outfits are just as good as travel support.

And next to it, he shakes his blonde hair and slowly follows it from behind. There was also the appearance of Hert Stanley. His appearance, too, of those who go on the journey. Equipment not disturbed to the point of movement and swords at the waist.

"I'm ready. Let's swear it won't be a foot job."

Goon...... Goon...... Listening to the sound of such a bell, four necks gathered in front of the gate.

"- Wait. I don't know the common sense of the request, but isn't it too heavy for me to say how many words I swear to put on the terms? I'm not connected."

Silence to Hert Stanley's words, as the field wore cold water for a moment.

Oh, I knew. I thought I knew. That you're the one who bites into these stories. I knew so much that I knew too much.

Words of oath. The word used when magicians make important covenants with superior beings, the reason of the world, and similar things. It is an unmistakable oath, a chain that binds the sorcerer, a dramatic drug that sometimes even degenerates the living.

Therefore, I am not wrong in what I said earlier. Instead of asking for one, I've never heard a magician exchange swear words. However, precedents and the like are of little importance in contracts. Well, he's not my negotiator or anything. No matter how unrelated the deal, if the negotiator snorts, it becomes a legitimate deal.

I suppose so. Some people in this world sell their dignity on the condition of a piece of bread, and others sell their bodies for change. Perhaps we can say that something like a deal that can be made together is rather unusual.

"Hert Stanley, I'm not dealing with you. I hope you're kind enough to stick your mouth in from the side. Mostly, we're in danger here, aren't we?

I narrow my eyes and respond to the words, pointing to its sharp face.

A magician's escort, for example, is something no one wants to do. They prefer deception at all times, are off the humanitarian track, and trade with demons. At least, that's widely perceived by adventurers.

So even if they pile up some money, such as a request from such a person, the one who snorts is not here. The weirdos and full-timers who snort at it are the ones who are in the Mage's Guild.

Yes, if a magician were to make a request, it's not just a commercial guild, it's the least bothersome way to go to a dedicated guild. Even if you don't know how to make a request, you do. Even so, Fialert La Borgograd has not taken the means to do so.

"I guess you guys have a point. In any case, there are so few guilds of magicians in this city. 'Cause if I smell frigid by the time I'm here, I won't."

That is the undisputed weakness of the opponent. If it is a negotiation to strip its feet, it will come on board, even if there is no connection. I have to come on board. She must be here because she knows it.

Hert Stanley's cheek for a moment, distorted. Haven't you eaten enough yet? That heart is still a big deal. Yeah, but it looks like it's too late, Savior.

"- You shut up, Stanley. He's right. We're asking each other to take risks. If I don't carry it, the balance won't be equal."

A core caged word that pains the will of Fialert that what he decides not to screw around. I have to follow that word with Hert Stanley. In this deal the Lord is her, he obeys.

And given his character, I know exactly what comes next. Abominably. So much so that the revulsion is so.

"Then - then give me permission to accompany you. Just stick your mouth in it, shake you don't know afterwards, I can't do that. At least it won't behave like a gentleman of dignity."

Unexpectedly the words seemed to come out of my lips. I understood that, with these conditions, you would offer to accompany me. Make it good, make it bad. That's what Hert Stanley is. That's the Savior.

Oh, what an abomination.

The journey to the Cape takes a day by carriage. Naturally there are few who head to such places, and there is no way there is a ride-along carriage. It is therefore a huge journey on a rental carriage. I don't remember the carriage very well, but if I could ride it for free, it wouldn't be bad.

The carriage ridden by the four of us is not so much cramped as cramped, but it will be about the distance of each face to face. It wasn't the wind of word busyness, it just became a journey listening to the sound of hooves and wheels.

That could be seemingly idyllic and good. A journey that gives itself up to the sounds of nature, without stirring.

- But from me, it wasn't just the stomach, it was the lungs, and that was the thought of burning fire erupting from all the depths of the gut.

That's right. Not everything is in order. But you should take a look at the face here. Kalia Birdnick. Fialert la Borgograd. Hert Stanley. And me.

Oh, oh. I am reminded even if it is no. Make that journey a journey of pain and shame. the pain of being trampled on with dignity at the bottom of your feet and thrown off your whole body into the garden of needles.

The spit doesn't seem to swallow properly. If you stay alert, a whimper will crawl up from the bottom of your belly with your emotions. I rubbed my back teeth with my fingers, biting them off harder.

I remember. You wouldn't know. But I remember.

The sound of the hooves striking the ground, the sound of the wheels turning lightly, kept echoing around.