A Wish to Grab Happiness

"I have a message from the Virgin Mattia... that on a full moon night, that is, today, the first flame will produce a voice,"

As Largud-Ann's words led him, that night, the first flame gave rise to a voice. Brilliant, as if you have a feeling for yourself that it will burn more than this.

Its beginnings are rural in the southern part of the Kingdom of Garrist.

From that land, which is not supported by peace itself, a group of people and peasants who mark the crests attacked the Lords' Hall in search of the liberation of the crests. To be said to be a revolt by a sudden peasant, strangely with planned policies and action.

The Lords defeated the raid, which can be called an ambush. As it is, the lord does not scratch and struggle with the private soldiers, but abandons the people and evacuates them to the kinship's ruling territory. Show defeat until brilliant. To this point, it is undoubtedly good to say that their rebellion was a success.

But as it turns out, the peasant revolt.

Though it was the ambush that worked, relative to a full-fledged army, it would collapse without having to wave weapons. Everyone was bracketing so high. Yes, it was at first, it was seen as a small rebellion. If it's not enough to take, that war that was insulted.

After this, the beginning of a series of matches and history, also known as the Great Rebellion of the Crests and the Gospel War.

The flame has now risen.

One night went by and early in the morning the documents were delivered under Largd-Ann.

Upstairs in a nearly crushed liquor store. In the private room to which it was addressed, he runs his gaze on the document with Fialert, Ann. Even so, the document seems to be encrypted, listening to what Ann says, and so on, is more correct.

If you don't pick the point, just say one word. Rebellion is a success. The peak fire was high and raised. A report that tells that.

Raise your eyebrows and whine as the sun opens its eyes and illuminates the earth with light.

"This is where the fire begins. Doing it too flashy is going to lighten the hips of the National Army"

Ann said the communicator could have been ahead of him because he was too quick to report, but no doubt, the insurgency should have been a success. At least, that was the case in former history.

Of course, success in this matter is delightful, but even if it works too well, that's problematic. It is no surprise that the national army came out early as a garrison kingdom with the Catholic Church as its national religion, more than the liberation of the crest.

Gently chew the tobacco into your teeth and let the pleasant smell go through your nose.

"That's not a problem. Some snakes are neglecting a giant lion called the Catholic Church."

Ann said that in a calm voice. Somewhere, it can be said that it contains extra space. The horse named Battlefield says he's already run out, but the look of it doesn't look good. Considering its girly appearance, extra.

But I see. Were you when you were neglecting the Catholic Church? Touch your mouth with your tongue as you narrow your eyes.

Indeed, the Catholic Church continues to have a certain influence over the surrounding countries, not least the Kingdom of Garrist. Now its mouth has grown so loud that it sometimes speaks to the politics of each country.

But naturally, not everyone is a devout Catholic. Rather, there would be more raw people doing it with decorations.

Many, especially to the upper classes, take care of the faiths passed down from generation to generation.

If so, it is not surprising that some of the people involved in politics would like the power of the Catholic Church to be somewhat weakened.

This means that the evangelical war did not spread fire only on the part of the crests, but also as a result of sprinkling oil all those who had an interest in the Catholic Church, whatever they wanted.

Whatever, should I say that the business is deep, or should I say that the pile that leaves be struck?

"So the Virgin asks me to rest my body without any problems?

After one night it still brings to the chair sheltering its aching flank, with a bitter laugh.

No way, Ann grinned like she was stuck.

"Tell Maria the confession of love, and the Virgin Mattia wants. Until then, there will be no activity around here."

It's only last night's revolt that Garrist kingdom's repression exploded the crests, he wants to make it look that way. I guess I have a belly that wants to alarm Galuamaria, who would be on guard.

I could see the fialert beside me shaking my shoulder tightly. That expression with a slight frown, I can't read through the emotions. Perhaps there are a lot of strays and upsets.

Naturally. Speaking of international students, Galuamaria is also where she spent her time. That's not the case with the guy who gets told the plan to fall there right in front of him and talks about it with a willingness to ride.

"That's good, but what matters is what you do, not how. Means, right? In history, Galuamaria has never failed. That, in a way, adds to the sanctuary. I don't think you're talking from the front."

To hear that talk, maybe it's quite ridden. Let's leave out the earlier facial expression considerations.

Whatever it is, the word is certain. At the moment, Galuamaria has not failed once. It is the pride of the citizens here and the home of their hearts.

For Fialert, it must be a joke worse in nature than a dream story that a group of crests, who are not regular soldiers, but rather close to mobs, fall the famous Galuamaria in history, etc.

"Yeah, of course. As far as means are concerned, several species just wait to finish spreading and germinate. I came here to ask for one thing. I ask you to consider this equivalent to the wishes of the Virgin Mattia."

Yes, Anne said as she snorted deeply.

I had a feeling in my chest that something terribly unpleasant from that point on, like being slowly poured mud into my ears.

"Better yet, let the cat write a poem"

I said, with my lips dry, a voice like a croak up from the bottom of my chest.

If it's so difficult, let Ann's consciousness engrave it.

- Riots of slum dwellers, or seeking collective disobedience.

That was the wish of the Virgin Mattia. Generally, I was expecting it. When I actually hear it, I feel stuffed with several black hammers in my brain.

"I don't mind in a few days. Use the structure of this city. If the workforce of slum dwellers is lost, many urban functions will be paralysed. Especially when it comes to distribution, it will have a significant impact"

That is an indisputable fact.

In Galuamaria, where slum dwellers are the main workforce, if they become dysfunctional, it leads to urban dysfunction. You can say that if you start a riot, it won't be a trading city. Even in a few days, chaos in the city is a must.

That would undoubtedly also lead to a decrease in the resistance of the Guard Corps and hence of the city as a whole.

But no one will struggle if it is easy to do so. First and foremost, cities would not have reached such a structure.

The slum dwellers no longer take their apathy as their friend and conceive their views into their breasts. Whatever you see, whatever you feel, oh, there's no choice. Anyway, there's nothing you can do. I'm throwing hope out of my own hands.

But who can blame them? Well, there's no way I can speak ill of them.

"... the problem is too deep-rooted. No matter how many superficial layers you remove, if you have roots deep inside your mind, you can't hit your hands. It's no different than a puppet being manipulated by a city citizen."

Biting the edge of his lips, he leaked words, unintentionally. The meshing teeth ring unknowingly. I understand their feelings better than anything else.

Yeah, I was, they were. They used to be me.

It's like they were on a journey of salvation, a living copy of me then. A mood that spends its days devouring inertia and apathy, with no suspicion, no anger.

That mood, which is too much understanding and too much, weighs strangely on the mind. The gut itself was as comfortable as if it had become a hard stone.

In fact, even in former history, crests have failed to obtain the help of slum dwellers, their collaborators.

Although Galuamaria fell, the crests who failed to successfully bring the slum dwellers under its rule were defeated by coalitions of other city states without being able to restore urban function, and without desperate resistance.

It was a fatal defeat for the crests, as well as a cut that attenuated the momentum of their activities.

Ralgud-Ann stares at me silently chewing cigarettes without blinking.

Those eyes are brilliant with silent expectations and mixed with a pleading color. What do you expect from me? There's no way I can do what you guys couldn't do once.

Only a hero can change history.

"... give me a few days. I guess the Virgin will come this way anyway. Then there must be some respite."

Largd-Ann's eyes were opened and his euphoric words returned immediately.

If you can't, you should have responded that way. Don't expect anything from me, you should tell him so.

For the most part, my convenience is to frustrate its origins while using the crests, and to name and name merit. There is no need to cooperate fully. In fact, I wasn't even willing to cooperate so far.

But things are different now. A hero who can change history has been on that side.

That is, Hert Stanley. Heroes enough.

Now Galuamaria has him. It is no exaggeration when it comes to the worst. Just one person, everyone would say. Some people will laugh at the fear that comes up in this chest.

But no. No, it's not. He's not a big man enough to fit into the imagination of such an ordinary man. Alone, a man who can change the plate. Alone, he's a man who can be both the keeper of hell and the hero of salvation, Hert Stanley said.

Considering the existence of the helt, it is just too dangerous to move the crests as they have in history. A bad hit can even have the result that they suffer a huge defeat and just that he gets fame.

Well, then, no. If possible, forces are desirable to the extent of antagonism. To the point where I can get my hands on it.

Therefore, there is no way that you will not take this request.

And. I'm not the only one here. There's one genius.

"Fialert. I want to use some of that power. What, it's easy. It's still harder for you to eat hard bread."

Speaking abruptly, Fialert said, slightly blinking her eyes and gently pointing her lips. Dark hair, shaking.

"If you think so, you'll have softer bread for the reward, won't you? Yeah, and then butter."

I've never even spoken of butter. She grinned somewhere too when she glanced at Ann. Instead, my cheeks are sticking. It seems difficult to use Ann's distribution route to get high-end products called butter on boulders.

At least a fialert proclaiming that you want sugar, etc., and a bewildered Ann in the back of your eyes, stroking your fingers under your nose.

In this case, there may have been an impotence past the boulder. Even though I borrowed the hand of a genius fialert for something that wasn't in history, is it something I can do? Anxiety is endless everywhere.

But something to get over it. I was feeling something sprouting in me, one thing, covering up my anxiety and applying it to different colors.

Caress the chewing cigarette slowly with your teeth.

My aim is to be as good as I can be to name names and pick up Arueno. That's for sure. It is an indisputable purpose.

But now, I feel something in my chest that has been suppressed much deeper and deeper, breathing down.

It was suppressed for a long time. He bowed himself to the pressure of falling over the sky and waited for the time to kill his breath and sprout.

Slightly sweaty on the forehead. His eyes opened and the sound of his throat rattling loudly struck his ear.

Name names in order to obtain the appropriate identities. For all that, would it have been necessary to hit a beating like this?

Could there have been a more solid way of gaining fame? Such an irresistible question now runs through the brain.

So, all of a sudden, oh, well. As if convinced, the words rushed up from his chest to his brain.

- I mean, I want glory, I do. The more you cover yourself, the more you want to drink, the more you feel.

What a shame. What a shabby. I'm kidding. Isn't it like a lump of vanity, now?

Yeah, I used to just watch it all the time. From afar, I was just watching them leave me wanting glory. How many times have I been burned to the brilliance of it? How many times have I been scorched?

How many times have you bitten off your vision, humiliation, and giving up with these teeth, knowing you'll never get it?

Without knowing it, a mocking exhalation came from the edge of his mouth.