The God Slaying Hero and the Seven Covenants

Deposit the Spirit Silver (Mithril) sword in the soldier standing in front of the armoury and dive straight through the door of the armoury.

Less than twenty people spend their thoughtful time in that holding room sitting in the wooden chair provided.

One person is checking the sword used in the tournament while watering down the light, closing his eyes and concentrating, or talking to each other he knows.

Hip down to the least conspicuous seat on the side of the wall to get away from those people.

"Ha."

"What's up?

"I'm getting nervous"

"... makes me want to sigh more"

When I heard Elmen Hilde's groaning voice today, a few more participants came into the booth late from me.

A man of mercenary appearance with short pruned red hair and brown burnt skin, and a little man much less tall than I think surrounds him.

I'm trying to get tangled up in those two, one familiar face. When it comes to mercenaries, it's Miss Francesca, a woman in a pale robe, dressed in equipment that can be described as beautiful.

Apparently, the holding room was the same.

Looks like I got enough rest yesterday, and I look good. I just seem to be in trouble getting tangled up by two strangers. The soft smile that's always floating seems a little convulsive now.

But that red-haired mercenary. Miss Francesca and I are barely the same height. Well, that's also because Miss Francesca is a woman living in this world, taller than her average height.

Still looks bigger than her, I guess, because of the armor-like muscles that surround her. The armor makes the red-haired mercenary look bigger than a turn.

"If you fight that, you're a total loser."

"If you want to challenge me from the front,"

Must be, shoulder to shoulder. There will be no fighting.

But places like this make it a lot easier just to have one person I know. Seeing Miss Francesca's face makes me feel just a little lighter.

Both Soichi and Masaki-san had different modem rooms, and they were a little careful.

It seems to be tangled up.

"Right."

They don't seem to have noticed this way. I'm just grinning back like I'm in trouble, not knowing what to do. The voice of denial, too, is somewhere weak.

In that way, a man like that wouldn't back down. On the contrary, you look extra comfortable.

Yeah, it's a problem to say no and stimulate the deal, but if you can't say no, you're on track. Especially when you spot a woman who seems weak.

"Hey, I'm fine."

"Hey, why don't you share your energy with me from that guy?

"Hmm. That sounds like fun"

'... ha'

Looking at a man like that makes me wonder if he may have no choice but to think that mercenaries are crude people.

I know not all of them are, oh that kind of guys. But when there's one guy like that, the whole thing gets a bad image.

Not to say it was quiet, but the modem that was surrounded by good tension became noisy in Russia. Do you feel comfortable with the noise, the red-haired mercenary's voice becomes even louder and the language becomes more violent?

'You're not gonna help me?

"Well, what are we gonna do?"

With that said, my gaze does not deviate from Miss Francesca's.

How do we get past that mercenary? If I can't get past it, I'm going to call you, but I'm going to see how it goes for a while.

Yeah, that's a good experience. If you live as a nobleman, you won't be involved with mercenaries that much, but that's not a zero possibility. Sometimes mercenaries are hired to protect the territory of nobility and its territory from demons and opposition parties.

It would be nice to know what kind of person there is in a mercenary.

Listening, apparently the red-haired mercenary is the opponent Miss Francesca fights in World War I.

From my physical appearance, I can predict that I would be quite a user. The score looks like the sword Miss Francesca was working on yesterday. The two handheld swords (two-handed swords) with little decoration on their backs are just as unlikely to be used in the Games, so it would be the swords available in the modem room.

When it comes to the Great Sword, Miss Francesca was also handicapped by her student opponents in yesterday's group battle, but today she is a mercenary… the battle is the man of the line. It would be an unparalleled user of yesterday's students, opponents who were caught off guard in World War I or II, etc.

She turns her gaze to intimidate her surroundings while dictating (numbing) Miss Francesca. Several participants were out of sight at the strength of that gaze.

What's leaking from your mouth is your confidence in victory. I'm talking to the winner, so I guess I'm pretty confident in myself.

But this is the gallery of the arena. Such words are kept in the chest and are often indicated by the results. If you don't, you just buy objections. Like a red-haired mercenary.

"Well, that man is going to win."

"I hope so."

'... you say it'

Ermenhilde reacts to that word the red-haired mercenary said.

The words don't even sound like they're saying, "Looks like you're going to beat the range." I don't want to understand because I haven't put it into words.

In the first place, before you fight me, you fight Miss Francesca. The way Ermenhilde put it, it doesn't even sound like Miss Francesca is telling that mercenary to lose.

Well, the odds of winning seem pretty bad.

"Ah?"

A red-haired mercenary turned to you when you heard a voice reacting to such an ermenhilde. Bring a little anger to that gaze.

Surprised by the sudden, Miss Francesca also opened her eyes to surprise and hid her mouth with her right hand. I think it's the boulder beauty that looks good like that.

Still, how could that man's ear have picked up some kind of word for me? Think about it that way and think back to what you said earlier.

The man who said he was going to win, and me who said he hoped he could.

... I didn't mean to stir it up, but maybe it sounded that way.

Recently, the Faeronas seemed a little relaxed because they were talking to Ermenhilde with me, too. I'm sure you still haven't heard Elmenhilde, other than me or Miss Francesca.

"Oh. I didn't mean to be a fool, I apologize if I offended you"

'There's a little more, here's the thing... isn't there a way to put it?

I don't dare, I apologize before they say anything. I couldn't tell the boulder that I had a habit of talking to myself. That's a little too embarrassing.

Besides, even if we have waves in places like this, there will be nothing good for each other. The Games Commissioner (Utano) will be watching you later.... and then I feel like I'm the only one who gets mad.

Well, still, it shouldn't be where this guy wants to stand out evil in front of a lot of people.

That's what I thought, but apparently it wasn't much fun to try as a red-haired mercenary.

You thought you were being ridiculed, and you're walking over here with the momentum you're going to hear even as if it sounds like ground. When I scattered the table along the way with my hips, the participants sitting there looked at me annoyingly.

... even though it's not my fault.

"Did you just say something funny?

The man stands in front of you.

I guess my height is about the same as mine. But now that I'm in the chair, I'm in a position to be looked down on.

Some atmospheres are angry as if they were beasts, and they wonder how to respond.

But from the mercenary guy, he didn't seem to like my attitude of not saying anything. With that right hand, beat the wall I was keeping my back from.

He seems to be working out properly around not distorting his face to pain.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to piss you off."

"Oh?"

'Nothing, isn't there a problem beating him down here?

I'd rather be beaten down. Apparently, Elmen Hilde already stinks of this guy's response. Well, so am I.

Why should I even be entangled in the modem when I say it's almost a game?

The arm right next to my face is about a turn thicker than my sole. But it's not about being obese, it's about getting bigger by the muscles.

How uninteresting my response seems, even with blood vessels floating in its arms.

The only people I enjoy making fun of are people who react like Ermenhilde, Miss Francesca, and Soichi.

"Hey, are you listening!?

"I'm listening."

But my face is close.

The spit is going to fly and it's dirty.

Such emotions seemed to have appeared on his face, and the man was furious as he blushed even more. The surrounding participants don't seem to be willing to give a helping boat even though they are concerned about this one without my involvement.

You can cry, at all. But, well, if you're in the same position, I'll be watching.

"Look, we're close to a game, right? Why don't you rest your body?

"Ha, I'm gonna beat a kid like that. A" hero "apprentice? is just right for my name to be raised."

"Yes, but?

"No, I've said it many times. I never taught her anything more than she told me to be my apprentice..."

Yes, exhale.

When I said that, the man who was breathing in front of me suddenly quieted down. I wonder what it is. Very awkward.

"So you...?

"Well, I'm not your name, you don't know who you're mistaken for."

At a time like this, I think my title is useful. The face is unknown, so rumors are walking alone, but it works for someone who gets involved weirdly this way.

It's probably due in part to the fact that this world is not the kind of society that specializes in information like the one I used to be, but in meritocracy.

A man who killed the 'demon god' who chaos the world. That's all, they illusion me as far above each other. All you have to do is oddly odd. Like now.

"Miss Francesca, how are you?

"Ah, yes. I slept well yesterday."

"That's good"

He shifts his gaze away from the red-haired man and turns his gaze behind him to the less tall man and Miss Francesca, who was watching over this one's accomplishments.

If you look closely, the little boy is a little less tall than Miss Francesca. Sometimes I think Miss Francesca is taller as a woman.

"That was a disaster."

"No......"

As I was trying not to gaze at the red-haired man, the other guy walked away looking like a bad ass. Behind it, the man around him chases him.

When a man is awesome, he has a reduced lifespan. I am tired of doing unfamiliar things, so when I try to keep my back on the wall and rest, Miss Francesca sits in the chair next to me with a word of no.

"Ah. There's a lot of blood, who's a participant in a militant tournament?"

"The range is supposed to be one of its participants."

"My blood almost spilled a year ago."

"Ha."

That's how I turn my gaze to Miss Francesca as I hear Elmenhilde sigh.

Are you nervous, your expression looks a little stiff. Plus, an earlier conversation with a mercenary. I hope you don't remember me being weird about them.

I don't know, maybe Miss Francesca isn't very immune to me or to guys other than Faerona. We've traveled a lot of time together, but I don't even hear one of the floating stories.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, Master Range..."

"I'm going to be crushed by nervousness."

'Are you still saying that? Pity.'

"Hehe."

When I said something stupid, Miss Francesca laughed at me, though she was small. Be good to Miss Francesca like that, and I'll stand up with my mouth just a little loose, too.

There's still time to get to work, but it's time to pick the prey to use in the tournament.

"Today, you're not armor"

"Hmm?"

"Yesterday, I was lined up in armor with the king."

"Because I'm better at fighting around moving than solidifying myself with armor."

"I know that..."

After all, do I look stronger in my armor?

Sure, there won't be any game players in the tournament who can take part in the end of the adventure with cloth gear. This world is not a game, it's a reality. I just have to believe in how to fight it for me.

Even if you wear strong weapons and protective equipment, the last thing you can rely on is yourself.

They seem to be worried.

"Ah, that's it. I'm worried about something."

"... don't you worry about me"

"Eh, that... that's why. Ha"

That makes me sad, but this is how it lights up, or it soothes me when I look at Miss Francesca, who is tempered.

But I still haven't heard Elmenhilde around, so now Miss Francesca is talking to me and she's lit up. If it comes from around, how does it look?

"Don't make fun of him too much."

"Aren't Ranges Always Teasing You"

"I don't mind."

"It's terrible, Master Range..."

Try not to think too much about it and send a help boat to Miss Francesca.

The neck, which was usually hidden with hair, is now exposed by the ribbon, so it looks good that Zhu is on skin like white magnet.

When I saw how it looked and laughed small, I heard my laughter and I felt like Miss Francesca's skin was dyed even more to Zhu.

"Miss Francesca, do you have a weapon?

"Ah. Oh, I hah."

She dropped her gaze on a short sword that hung on her hips when I asked her that way to get off topic.

I'm rushing to get it, and I'm about to drop it.

Apparently, even today, I challenge you with that sword. Looking at what happened yesterday, I'm not comfortable with that short sword. Just because you change your sword now won't get used to it.

If I or Mululu could put up an avant-garde, there was no problem, but if it was one-on-one, I couldn't deny the feeling of lack of power.

"Are you all right?

"We've been together ever since I started my journey."

"I see. That sword is Francesca's partner."

"... you, you're gonna get mad when I say that"

"Hehe. That's not true."

Lie.

Saying that on the inside is the same time Miss Francesca laughs again.

I don't know. Scratching his head, he walks over to the weapons stand available in the modest room.

Besides me, there were a few other participants choosing weapons, but they gave me the place. Apparently, you've become too conspicuous in your dealings with red-haired mercenaries.

Take a common (orthodox) double-edged sword, feeling unspeakably uncomfortable. The blade has been crushed, but the length and width of the body is close to the recently used Spirit Silver (Mithril) sword.

I took some after that, but the first sword I chose seems easy to use. With that in mind, hang that sword to your hips.

Then the red-haired mercenary who was involved earlier comes next to me. Do you still have something to say? Hold with one hand the sword that is likely to be the heaviest in silence.

If it's just arm strength, I don't think I can win by standing upside down.

"You're pretty thin, what's a hero?"

"Hmm?"

"Thin," I said.

Apparently, you noticed I was looking at the muscles.

But I didn't know it was thin......

"I miss you."

"Am I?"

"No, it's nothing"

In the old days, how many times have I been told that?

Normally when I work out, I think I just build muscle, but apparently I'm in a difficult shape to muscle.

Even so, not at all. People like this man and Mr. O'Brien who need strength to wave their swords and people who need speed, like me and Masaki. I was told that's the difference, but I still purely envy being muscular as a man.

At least, is it a good memory that I worked hard on muscle training etc because I used to be jealous?

After all, it didn't add more muscle than I needed to wave my sword though.

"Me, I'm gonna take down your apprentice?

"Right. Good luck with that."

I'm done choosing my sword, too, so I turn my back on the man.

Skin bubbles and the expression is likely to attract me to kill. I would have shaken my body before, really thin.

But well. Getting used to killing is a lot of trouble. That's why I can't seem to live with my guts anymore.

"Will you fight me then?

"Huh?"

But not long before he mocks himself like that, a red-haired mercenary says so in an exciting voice.

If you look back reflexively, that gaze is somewhere cooled.

"Thin."

"I already heard that."

"I used to think he was a bigger man."

"Right. Sorry I'm so thin."

Back in the day, when I was traveling through this world over a year ago?

Maybe that time, I was seeing him somewhere. Although I don't remember at all. There are hundreds of mercenaries on the road. If you're not particularly close, it's hard to remember.

Nevertheless, it gets tangled up with me if I do.

Strong, I guess. Probably... from Miss Francesca. I felt like I was talking about that kind of confidence.

"You've been told."

I'm used to being told.

'Say it more differently there. You know, show your strength, it's really more amazing.'

Ermenhilde is rare and tells me to tease him.

It won't be my fault that that voice sounds worried about something. As always, he's easy to understand.

"It's my strength, it's not what I say. It's up to the spectators to figure out how much I can fight."

"Hehe, you're right"

"I'm strong and I can't even see if the results are scattered."

No matter how much I am, I can't stand that reality.

"I'm not mad at you for saying all that, but it's probably about the range."

"I don't care."

"I think we should be a little concerned."

"... not at all"

When I finished picking out the sword and went back to Miss Francesca, she was about to tie her hair with a white ribbon.

Long, beautiful blonde hair tied behind her and flowing to her back in a single room. I always only saw the rich hair untied, so it's very fresh. Women are amazing because they change with one hair.

When I thought that again, that gaze turned to me. The whiteness of the dewy neck is dazzling to my eyes.

"What's wrong?

"No, that ribbon. I don't think I've had it before."

"Yesterday, Mulu and Mr. Fayrona chose me because I could win a team match."

"I see."

Just like Elmen Hilde, the more you get inside, the more you whine.

Blonde hair and white color (contrast) calm the viewer with a gentle color. Both Faerona and Mululu have a good understanding of the colors that reveal a human being named Miss Francesca.

But.

"I think you look great."

"Really? Thank you."

"Oh. I think it suits you well"

"Yep. I was the same white as Mulu's hair color and gave Mulu a ribbon close to my hair color"

"I don't know about that."

"Huh?"

Getting a ribbon to celebrate winning a team match and giving a ribbon in return... is that okay?

Well, if Miss Francesca is happy with herself, fine.

"Oh well."

"A beast man who only lives about half the range would be more worthwhile"

Where did you learn the word "worthiness"?

I wonder why. To the voice of Elmen Hilde, who was worried about me until earlier, I feel a chill reminiscent of a sharp blade.

It's true that long hair is in the way of battle, and the gift of ribbon seems like a wonderful thing, not only a one-on-one duel like this one, but whether you're going to live as an adventurer or as one of the nobles.

I think... I don't know, what it feels like to be left out of this company.

No. I'm sorry I haven't seen the Faeronas much lately.

I'm sorry... I feel like I've done something very bad. My mouth was drawn to the guilt I hadn't felt here lately.

"What's wrong, Master Range?

"- No."

"Ha."

And also a very human smelling sigh buddy (Ermenhilde).

How many sighs has this guy exhaled just today?

"After all, you're my partner. Elmen Hilde"

"Right."

My partner's voice is cold.

That, Miss Francesca shook her shoulder about what she thought of me being exposed to my partner's cold voice.

"After all, you're good friends"

"... Huh?

…………

In a nutshell, Ermenhilde seems to have lost his mood. Well, I know more than half of it and I told you.

Still, if this is how Miss Francesca laughs at me, I wonder if I could bow my head to Ermenhilde later.

Apparently, the tension is completely broken. The grin on that face is the sole of relaxed moments that show you when you're traveling.

At times like this, I hope Mululu stays more than I do. I don't want to abuse my position as much as I want to put someone who's not exactly a participant in the room.

I don't like to stand out originally, and if I do, I'll have a bad look and trouble with Miss Francesca.

"I would be glad to hear my sword speak like Master Elmenhilde, too"

"Really? How many May flies do you have?

"That's because the range isn't sloppy"

"Well, it's a good thing I don't miss you alone."

"Mm."

"But I knew there was a novel."

"So it's..."

Miss Francesca still seems to enjoy hearing about us like that.

I was fearful of Ermenhilde before, but now I can feel free to deal with it much more and more. I guess I'm used to it. I think that's why it was a word.

Talking weapons.

Sure, that may be something that makes you have a kind of longing. Medium two or something, even in that sense.

Kotaro and Soichi also recall how excited they were at the beginning when they were traveling with El. Maybe Miss Francesca means something different.

"But Elmen Hilde is my partner. You can't do all this for as many Francescas as you want."

'Naturally. I'm just a range.'

"Hey, buddy."

"Weapon."

The usual questions. I don't know how many times I've done this already - mean like a child. Still, we don't give in to each other, and we don't compromise only on this line.

I seek Elmen Hilde as my partner and Elmen Hilde asks me to treat him as a weapon.

But I think that's fine.

Because we're like this, it's fun to do it. Even though we ask each other to do the opposite, I trust Hermenhilde with all my heart. And Elmen Hilde trusts me, too.

"Hehe."

Miss Francesca has been laughing at our questions for the past few months.

"Dear Range"

"Hmm?"

"World War II, I hope you can fight"

"Huh?"

'Hmm?'

When they said that, Elmen Hilde and I had a loose voice between us.

Miss Francesca, who was laughing next door, also looks surprised.

"Is World War II Miss Francesca!?

"Why are you so surprised there!?

'We're both surprised. I'm surprised, too. "

"No, I don't care if you're surprised."

"Mmm."

But I hold my head. What thought did Utano make of the tournament table?

Next to me, Miss Francesca looked sad.

"Just a little bit more, so I'd be glad to have a look at mine"

"Really. I'm sorry it's not worth it."

Don't apologize.

I'm gonna cry, damn it.

Uh... really, I can't see around.

I keep thinking about myself and I'm really indifferent to what's going on around me.

So much so, they say they're supported from around. I haven't noticed that at all.

Mr. O'Brien, Masaki. I just can't think about the two of us and think about anything else. A narrow field of view. Really, the world I see is narrow.

"What's wrong, Master Range?

Worried about me dropping my shoulder and depressed, Miss Francesca calls out.

The voice was overflowing with kindness everywhere.

"No, WWII. I hope we can win each other up."

"Yes."

I guess I already know who I'm dealing with. That's probably why he worried about me.

In World War II, to fight me. As a student, as an adventurer.

I'm sure Miss Francesca will wash her legs from the adventurer business once she graduates from the School of Magic. There is no place for a well-equipped nobleman, no need to cross dangerous bridges like adventurers.

So on this last stage, at least I want to fight - against the people I've traveled with. If we could do that, I'm sure we could laugh and break up.

Because adventurers break up with each other and reunion is a repetition.

It gets soggy, and the two of us shut up.

They called me by my name, as if they were waiting for that time.

"Ah."

The voice heard from next door is shaking very anxiously.

"I'll wait for you in World War II."

So I said so.

Still, there's anxiety in my gaze looking up at me.

So I took Elmen Hilde out of my pocket and made him shake it in that hand.

"Amulet. It's in your interest, it's excellent."

"Are you sure?

'That's right. Are you all right on your own?

I'm not a kid anymore.

As always, don't talk like a mother in strange places, you.

"Instead of a ribbon. I'll give you something after the tournament."

"Huh..."

"Promise."

Oh, and. Yes, whine in your heart.

Finally, I mouthed it. I made a promise.

Promises are very heavy. Even though it's easy to say, it's very difficult to achieve. If you don't make it happen, you betray yourself, not just the person you made the promise to. It hurts me.

I'm supposed to know that, and yet again - I make promises.

While being led to the entrance to the arena, I think so.

"Ha."

I've got a reason why I can't lose.

The sword hanging on his hips seems terribly brittle and restless.

At a time like this, Elmen Hilde usually talks to me lightly, but neither does it.

Ha -.

I miss you, at all.