A Wish to Grab Happiness

Silver winds cover the battlefield.

While the long sword swung through the haughty speed and blinked, the flesh was scattered over the cutting edge. Beautiful. It was such a beauty that it seemed to be unexpectedly spotted.

In the midst of a turmoil called battlefield, few trained knights can form their usual deeds. This primitive hell of crushing and dispersing blood, flesh and bones brings a man back to the wild days when he was an elf.

But she's not. She, Kalia, wields a silver murder weapon and builds a pile of corpses on the battlefield.

In this hell, the martial arts did not show decay. Without disturbance or collapse, the sword sees the best solution for slashing and killing enemies.

Beautiful. Everyone was going to see that. The glimmer no longer seems like a human enterprise. Jump the flesh of your enemies and the cutting-edge increases accuracy rather than madness.

- Hell named this battlefield had a strange charm.

Everyone puts his weapon in his hands and lets his own life fall into a primitive struggle.

The tip of the spear roared and tore the wind without deciding Kalia's heart.

The dark joy of bouncing off that killing intent with a silver murder weapon, smashing the skull of the enemy that was attached to the weapon and transforming it into just a chunk of meat.

This place was just an emotional crucible. Everyone shouts their repressed emotions every day as actors in a theater named Battle.

Kalia doesn't change that either. I felt so bad that my emotions were being exposed here. Whenever a sword flashes its emotions, it becomes clearer.

- If you wish, I wanted to be more, more of a wretched woman.

Kalia bites his back teeth as he savors the feeling of the enemy soldier's skull crushing in his hand.

If it were to come true, I wanted to say that I would leave him at that man's feet, no matter what he told me. It's like haunting him and still snatching his hand away. I wanted to be such a wretched woman.

A makeup named Blood is applied throughout the body, and Karia takes a step as she wraps her red dress around her. Tear apart a swarm of enemies that can be considered an overwhelming majority.

Her silver eyes narrowed and her throat sounded rough barbaric. A long sword stuffed with blood and fat is rebuilt.

My poor woman, huh? Unexpectedly her cheeks collapsed and Karia was about to mock herself.

Say stupid. Know yourself. What happens to a woman like me? Oh, my God, it's so lame. Shall we cry down, kneel down and beg that man? Don't go, tell him to stay by my side.

- If you could have played such a woman, how easy it would have been.

The long sword at hand continues to cry out as a spokesperson for the distorted emotions that still won't bite away into Kalia's chest.

Ironically, the sword clasp at this time today is so wonderful that Karia can become aware of it. Powerful and not rough, delicate but not weak. Kalia's leg took another step, inside the battlefield.

I understand. I know, I'm here.

I'm sure if I turned around in the future, he'd be nowhere else. That's who Rugis is. He's not a good person early enough, such as stopping for good. Then what am I fighting for now? It is decided. There's no other answer to that.

Even without Rugis behind this back. Even if this is a foolish image that can only behave with temperament.

- That's what he said when he asked. Nobody, to this me.

Then it's the only thing I can do to fulfill that request. I don't know if he believes me or not. But I'll believe him. That much will be forgiven to me for not being cute.

All this time, Karia was so jealous that she didn't like fialerts. She must be able to follow Rugis without hearing anything. Nor would Rugis make it unobstructed.

So what if that were you? Would they even look at something creepy? Don't do anything stupid, will you be reprimanded? Anyway, the imagination turns into something dark.

From time to time, Karia didn't feel like a person named Rugis was looking at something else through herself. Those eyes seem to be looking at me, not at me. That's nasty, teethy.

That's how I understood and understood what those eyes wanted from me.

That's temperamental, proud, sharp cleavage of me. I don't bend, I don't break, I don't know fear, I'm strong.

Never am I weak enough to cry, collapse, and fall.

Silver, brilliant. Its long sword, wielded as it roares, winds as it speaks the words of sorrow. Around Kalia piles the blood, flesh and bones of enemy soldiers.

No longer, that's the heart of the battlefield. Everyone, enemies and allies, keeps their gaze out of it. Every time Kalia's sword was waved, the battlefield groaned, and every time its leg moved forward, the battlefield moved at the same time.

Exactly how it is must be the Lord of the battlefield.

But that victory and defeat are still in the hands of fate. No matter how much Kalia is an undisputed hero, no soldier more than a few times should fall apart so easily.

Rather, if only Kalia's neck were dropped from her body, victory would dazzle her eyes as she rolls into our hands.

Not yet, not enough. Something decisive, something that would crush everything. The decision has not yet been made.

Thus, the decision beat appeared with a roar from the sky.

- Geaaaaaaa!

Both its screams and the sounds that no longer seemed to be the roar of the world, its giant body appeared. Crush the soldiers, ravage them, turn the battlefield into more hell.

Frenzy in the eyes of the great magnificent, and endlessly weeping and intense in the huge body. There is only one reason why the most elves and people gathered here in Gaza.

Come on, hurry up. Put it in this mouth. It's sweet and barks at me to moisturize this throat with its aromatic flavour that I won't forget once I taste it. As your instincts scream, as your desires go.

It was no longer like a great monkey.

Hair in the body stands upside down and limbs can be seen tough as if braided with iron thread. Initially it seemed to hide. The large mouth of the belly was no longer ringing its fangs as it willed itself.

Neither did the outpost put his hands and feet on the ground like a monkey, but now he crushes the earth with two legs, and both the proud arms do not capture the prey, but by all means.

Elves, and people, look at it and intuit it. A gigantic body far beyond itself. And the toughness that lightly squeezed the brave men who stood up to them in their hands.

This is no longer someone you can stand up to. I can resist, I don't think it exists.

In so doing, Kalia looked at that threat that came down in front of her as if she were a human resource while swallowing spit at the back of her throat.

I see, this is a demon. Undisputed, demonic. A being that should have been just a warcraft is about to go through some factor now, throw away the skin of the beast and reign as a pure demon.

demonization and the wise did call it that. This rough frenzy right now could have caused it.

A few arrows pierce that arm, but the creepy smoke blowing up from its entire body slowly heals the wound. It is also known as temper or the evaporation of magic.

Karia looked familiar to the sight. Yes, that's right. He said it would heal the Warcraft.

Silver eyes shake with dark lights.

"Hey, big monkey - how dare you, well, it's what came out at a time like this!

My voice is trembling. No one listens to such a voice anymore.

The battlefield was drunk by a vortex of madness. Even though his life was lightly cut off, he appeared on the battlefield, killing his fear with frenzy, an overwhelming foreign object. The Warcraft naturally tramples everything without enemies or allies, and slays them. Until everything is what I think it is. This is no longer a battlefield. There was just a stage for killing.

In it, Kalia still groans somewhere indignantly by herself.

"You remind me of something nasty, oh, nasty - yes, even then, he wasn't there!

That's right. That was the first day we met in the Ogi Forest. Look, despite what I said, he wasn't there where he slaughtered the pig-shaped warcraft and looked back.

That's the last thing I wanted to remember right now. Something that even occurred to me, something I didn't want to do. A long sword of silver was directed against the demon itself.

"This is an eight hit. Hey, you. My eight wins are painful, and I won't be able to do it."

Elves, people. To that being intuitive that everyone couldn't resist, Karia told one person, with passion, so. At the end of that back now, with the understanding that he would no longer be there.