A Wish to Grab Happiness

I look up at the second white flash floating in the dark night and accidentally bite my lips. It's unexpected. What the hell. That Virgin.

What should we do? I have no idea which option to grasp with this hand. Thoughts in my brain went all the way back and forth on the same path, and I was never likely to get to the answer.

Second flash. That Virgin Mattia put up. That's an indication of the intention to march further. I mean, that's what happens when you make a progression inside a city.

Something could not have happened. Something has to go on. That's what I'm telling you inside and out.

That woman is not stupid either. Naturally, you understand. the danger of marching at the moment. Rather, you understand that time is on our side and that if time goes on, it will crush Gallu Amalia as it is.

Based on that, he said he would move on.

Gently, I crawled my fingers down my jaw. Breathe deeply into the brain, where agitation and confusion run around with heat, to cool off.

Without knowing it, the slum dwellers who were facing the wall also looked up at the sky and looked ahead to that flash. Instead, it would be weirder not to be deprived of your eyes.

The white light slowly disappeared to be swallowed as it was, wondering if the momentum had often torn the darkness of the night apart.

"Rugis' brother. No, it's not just every time. Oh, my God."

Wood's grunting voice. It doesn't mean you don't answer at all.

How far should we go? How far should I go to convey my intentions? The rush is about to make my tongue snap. Slowly he pushed the sound out with his tongue, letting the words be included in his mouth.

"It's a signal to tell the crest man to march. They're no longer impatient in front of Gallu Amalia. I don't know what to do. The Virgin on the boulder should not have converted the slum dwellers into a force of war."

Now it's time for multiple slum dwellers to stir up that struggle, but who inherently carry no weapons or anything. It would be too many anxiety elements for them to jump to the battlefield with that.

Just because you stood on the battlefield in the same row doesn't mean morale is in the same row. Anxiety and madness are things that propagate. If one escapes, so does the other. If the two of you run, the next thing you know, the other two run. The devil, always lurking on the battlefield, is aiming for an opportunity to eagle a man's heart.

Therefore, there is no need for them to make some kind of decision or determination here. There's only one person who should make the decision. It's just me.

Put your hands on your chin and frown.

The fact that the Virgin has decided to march doesn't have to be everything in tonight's battle, but something decisive is likely to happen, with future trends to be set. That could be the collapse of the Guard Corps, or it could be in the form of the Virgin's death.

If so, I will no longer be wandering around like a bat in the dark night. Here and now, we have to make a choice. To give credit, to grab honor in this hand. Yes, even if the plan falls zero out of this hand, it must serve its purpose.

"... Wood. From now on, I'll be joining their fuss. Hey, I'm just a little late for my participation, and I plan on doing that from the start. You have to pay more for your late arrival."

narrow your eyes, clouding your words, and say so. Being true makes no difference.

If we're going to step into the battlefield and exchange swords, then yes, we need to decide everything here.

This means that it will be awarded to either the crest or the guard corps.

Originally, they exhaust the two in situations that have antagonized each other, scratching off the head of the crests. That was the path envisaged.

But I can't even hope for that situation anymore. Impossible. The only place I can get my hands back that I can't take anymore is where the precision is either God or the devil. We should now give it to the better as it stands.

--Oh, Cheng Cheng. As a matter of course, we should take the Guard's hand.

Softly, the sober head told him that the choice was the right one.

In former history, it is true that the crests fell Galuamaria.

Therefore, even if we put it down like this, I don't think it will suffer immediate failure. Even with the presence of Hert Stanley, it should be noted.

But definitely defeat. If you tried to storm in this situation, first of all, there is no doubt that the crest will lose, and if you do poorly, the Virgin's life will also be in danger.

I don't know for sure if this idea is correct or not. But a hero named Hert, whom I know, can undoubtedly make it.

Honestly, to give it to the Guard Corps as it is now, it is not a good time to have a relationship with them. He also broke the jaw of a lizard in the rank of deputy captain. There, I just have to borrow Kalia's hand with a handover. Or you can squeeze the Virgin's heart alone, but that doesn't matter.

Even if you stay in a slum, the books and citizenship you put in your guild are still alive.

If you were to take the neck of a crest man who posed a threat to Galuamaria, his chief Virgin, you are treading that way when you get the honor you deserve, even if you have some grudge with the Guard Corps. A little bit of a sweet prospect, I understand.

One breath, put the smell of chewing tobacco through your nose. There was a feeling of something crawling around in the depths of my body that scared me to run. For some reason, I don't feel like rushing into the battlefield right now. My leg was stabbing a pile on the spot asking for something. Is that because my assumptions are off?

Yeah, that's what you did extra, that Virgin. Anyway, things don't work out the way I assumed.

No, but naturally. History is always the palm of the mighty, the genius. Where ordinary people like me have swept the measures in all directions, it's natural to come out of anticipation. What matters is beyond that. Beyond expectations, which hand to take.

I miss the tobacco I just bit in a few times and exhale thinly.

Whatever it is, just looking at the situation as it is, all the credit for repelling the Crest could fall into the hands of the Guard Corps, not Helt. That's all, no. That's all I can't accept.

Besides, if we destroy the army of the crests, there will be no more such things as being attacked by them in this town where I was concerned. The only problem would be how to recover the fia alert.

So, naturally. This is correct. I have no choice but to take it this way. Hey, isn't that obvious? Do you think there is anything else?

--Why. Why am I trying to roll myself into smoke with my tongue?

I can see Wood turning a strange eye on me for a while.

But if you think about it, working in a slum has been wasted in a way. I have no choice. Now is not the time to spare any more effort, it is time to cut off what is unnecessary so that we do not lose any more.

Yes, I suppose so. We should cut them off. Slum dwellers, if they have to, say, fialert.

His back teeth did not engage, and he made a distorted sound in his mouth.

--Remember, I'm back in this day and age for what? For what?

Between blinks, yes, not even a second really. Something cold covered my heart. In my chest, I don't think my heart is performing that function at all. Guru moves himself, as if he is disrupting the blood flow. My eyes, they narrow.

Indeed, because it does not give Hert credit, he gives it to the Guard Corps and takes the Virgin's neck in order to sharpen its merits at all. Oh, it's not an option you don't. Exactly the messenger of justice. There will be more work in the guild and good credit in this arm.

So, then what happens to them? His eyes opened unknowingly, reflecting the people in front of him.

I don't know if I'll be alive tomorrow, slum dwellers. To Wood, that sister Cereal.

If we're going to cut them off and set them on foot, the story is simple. And yes, it's not like they're going directly to the battlefield and dying.

It's just not the same as before. Live the same life, just keep going. The days when you just look down, get trampled down, and mocked, just come back.

Besides, my biggest purpose was to be alone with Arueno. Every means is affirmed to take her hand, which seems more loving than anyone else. Isn't that right?

"Rugis......"

Soon, my temples were licked by sweat. The unfamiliar voice belongs to Cereal, Wood's sister. Listen to that voice of hers, which should have lost its voice, fine but does exist.

"From now on, I'm going to the city... if... in time, yes. Good way...... but there is"

Those little eyes clearly showed me.

I don't know what it's like to have this, this whole body crawling around like a creepy bug. How should I describe the feeling of something cold stroking my spine around?

"Sewage in the city... if there's a waterway that runs... alone, in a boat"

Wood, and the elders, add the words, as they aid the words of Cereal.

As I listened to them, a slow, muddy exhalation burst deep into my chest, leaking.

Oh, I see, and I was all good at it. There is no longer any stray in the chest. No, it's going to be a lie when it comes to nothing at all. Daimyo, fixed.

Yeah, what am I back for? What brings you through that time of humiliation and back to this age?

It's --