A Wish to Grab Happiness

What was floating in the bosom of the demon monkey was an indisputable enjoyment.

There is no stopping the force crawling out of the depths of the body, and the limbs are overflowing with refinement that just rips the flesh apart. Never before, exaltation and omnipotence covered his whole body, and his body no longer came out of the frame of the Warcraft.

But there is also a vain consequence.

The prey in front of him disperses his body early, just wielding a little bit of the end of the still extra force. If you let them jump at your fingertips, you can bounce the flesh, and if you hold it down with your hands, you will crush the bones and die.

There were places where the presence of the unloved and overly unloved prey remembered pleasure, as well as ambiguity and dissatisfaction.

But now the prey in front of me is different.

The silver-haired swordsman deviates if he wields his power, and tries to confront him where he flees or with his slightest power. Here comes the flavor. Hunting is the pleasure of accomplishing it because of its usefulness. Simply wielding the power will not bring this prey down. The pleasure was definitely there.

Then why don't you use a little tip?

The back of the demon monkey's hand is slammed into the street, and fragments become scatterbullets and fly around the battlefield. The power of flesh shredding and flying if touched by humans and elves.

The silver-haired swordsman naturally intercepts the fragments. I narrowed my aim to only a large fragment and wondered if I had waved my sword, and the space in front of me was swept away as it was. Its power to trump space from fragment to fragment, just like breathing.

But at that moment when the long sword is waved, the auspicious arm sweeps off the battlefield as if to target the gap. No additions or subtractions whatsoever, a blow with a definite finish.

- Giy, n!

Something hard touched the tip of the demon monkey's hand, I see. The feeling that your skin can bounce off steel. Perhaps he tried to strike back at us at the same time as attacking us. But it wasn't scratched.

The enemy can no longer even hurt this one. I'm sure you know that.

But scratch. Keep scratching. I can't even imagine how you stabbed this attack with that thin sword. But as a reality, the swordsman in front of him stands in front of his own eyes, even as he lets his breath out.

That's fine. That's what prey is. Until then, when he can't breathe, he will wield his hands and feet to survive.

After several attacks, its frantic face is distorted and a shitty monkey scream echoes from its belly mouth. To show your own joy, and to show the end of your hunt.

It must have been a good time. But I'm done with that, too.

Human strength and so on are known. Rather alone, it's a good one.

Until now, every time I struck this blow, the arm I was trying to fight back was no longer merely squeaking. Freshness as a prey is clearly falling.

Okay, so we're still done next. At the fingertips of the demon monkey, rigidity resides. That's it, it's going to shake the air, its power.

The prey that entertained me has a corresponding courtesy. This demonic monkey, who does not have as much intelligence as the analogy, also had its consciousness somewhere as an instinct.

If so, let's decide its heart with just one blow so that it doesn't go around suffering in vain.

The demon monkey swung up as big and as powerful as it had ever been.

◇ ◆ ◇ ◆

Silver hair, shaking. The clasp was chopped a thousand times and the lengthened hair stuck to his cheek. Kalia shakes off her silver hair in depression and stares at the demon monkey with her brilliant and radiant eyes.

Rather, it is correct that you can no longer only do things like that.

The whole body of Kalia raises a limit groan from everywhere, and no longer even enemies point the blade of return. Barely winces and survives. Forced to move his legs, he hurts his wrists and returns them. Such was the only way I could take the means of extending my life without other love.

- Okay, here we go. I hardly even put it in my nostalgia.

Kalia's silver eyes blinked. My favorite sword starts to chip, where it scratches the demon monkey, or the muscles on this side of the attack start hurting me.

I can't see the way to victory. The breath is disturbed, and the teeth that push and kill it shake dull.

I don't want to lose. I don't want to expose myself to such a problem. The only emotions that come to Karia's mind now were those close to the will. At the edge of the eye, something resembles a tear.

I don't want to talk about the bitterness of defeat, I don't allow myself to suffer defeat like a warcraft. That too, there is. But more than that, Karia understood one thing very well.

- I only have one thing in my life.

If you ask me to name something I can be proud of in my life, there is no doubt that Kalia speaks of that sword technique. This was her undisputed pride and one crack in her life.

Hence, I think. If he is slapped down here, if he suffers defeat here, he, Rugis, will surely be disappointed in me. be abandoned.

Oh, that's all, I don't like it. That's all, too much, unbearable.

Again, the silver eye of Kalia brings brilliance to the will. If so, I no longer have to kick and overthrow the demon monkey in front of me. That's the only way forward.

Once, there was a similar situation. When he was about to suffer defeat before the Great Wood Forest, the pig-shaped Warcraft. At that time, with the advice of Rugis, he destroyed the Warcraft.

But there's no Rugis here right now. That can no longer be overridden.

Then I'll think about what Rugis would say. Deeply observe the Warcraft, identify their habits, and pierce their weaknesses.

I have repeatedly understood that attacks on limbs are futile. That hungry big mouth is nothing but vicious when it comes to weakness. So, where is it? Where do we cut him off, we can kill him.

Two, reflectively floated thoughts, but I can play with my brain. Unconscious as that was, Kalia's cheek swayed. Somehow, it's gone crazy. The thought that came up in me seemed too silly and, above all, good for him.

Well, then let's bet. What, if it's his word, it's not bad either. It's a lot more difficult, and I don't even know if there's an answer to that.

The barbaric voice of the demon monkey echoes, and the power is caged in its loudly shaken, auspicious arm, no, but I can tell. Silver eyes, wobbled.

Opportunities are no longer unique. I will squeeze all the strength that remains in my body and give you a blow. I don't think so. Just kill it with that blow.

Oh, and I thought you said it was him.

- I can do it. I'm sure I can. You don't even have to get lost.

- Why can you say that? Don't say things that you think are HR and have no basis.

The shadow of its auspicious arms, it is sumptuous. Rip the sky, leave the sound behind too, and slap the earth or it will loom.

Kalia never missed an eye for a moment. Because I understood that this encounter would end in the blink of an eye. Where it gets clogged, you die or your enemies die.

Strangely, I thought. But until now, there is no room to dig into it.

This demon monkey uses a big, empty mouth in his belly, even when he makes the monkey scream surround him, even when he drinks a barrel of wine. The big mouth was swallowing, regardless of the wood cut or the rock. Always the fangs moved, and around their mouths, this body even seemed to be moving.

So why does the original mouth still exist and its face remain at the same time? I don't know why. But there was one thing Kalia could be sure of.

Now this demon monkey is about to undergo an unmistakable transformation into a demon.

The extremities are tougher and the large mouth of the belly is more vicious. But only that original facial part is no different than just a big monkey. It's not a demon, it's just, the beast itself.

If so, I thought that all those limbs, bellies, and all that stood up on two legs to the devil were still to protect the weaknesses that remained in this body.

But even if it does, it's a long way to go. In any case, the body of the demon monkey, which rises with two legs, goes far beyond human height, and by the time it reaches there, the steel limbs and the large mouth of his fang-facing belly stand in the way. When it comes to approaching, it's about an instant when an auspicious arm is swung down.

Very, not a human arrival. It's like being delivered one-on-one.

The palm floor, full of rigidity and destruction, approaches the body of Kalia. Touching it no longer in itself means death, the murder weapon itself. If you try to deviate with a long sword, it will be bounced, and if you try to prevent it, it must be broken.

Flying behind or rolling left or right ends in vain. That is the fate of being bounced by rubble.

Then there's only one way.

Karia's legs are stepped in with all the spirit. I didn't miss the fact that the prodigal arm was waving bigger than ever before. A small body is forced into the Devil Monkey's nose as she rocks her silver hair.

After the attack, slow. It was the moment I swung down the soles of my palms that I should aim for, and their brass arms swung, right after. nature and while the face is unloaded.

The very existence of Karia is now shaking the boundaries of death. In this moment, its life and death are identified by the world.

If you take a step different, you die. As soon as possible, at the latest, Karia understood that her body would be scratched off by her belly fangs.

The face of the demon monkey is brought closer to the earth with the bottom of his palm. Of Kalia, who has fallen into nostalgia, to the side. Kalia no longer had fear. I was just remembering one word.

- That's a good reason.

On the Demon Monkey's chest, the flash, runs.

A silver flash scratched a string of lines from the Devil Monkey's nose to its mouth. Exactly, between blinks. No one was breathtaking or uttering a word.

- Because you're Kalia Birdnick.

of an instant, after. A silver sword was born from the mouth of the demon monkey, and the blood of his companions fell upon the battlefield.