It's all one flower.

590. Propaganda

"Don't look so scared. Sure, I can't take care of him for the rest of my life. My job now is to be a haulier."

"But..."

"What I've carried so far is a powerful people born and tormented in Artel territory."

"But you don't know what happened after you carried those people, do you?

With that said, I feel like I was saying that the first time I [jumped] to Nenia Island.

I don't feel comfortable carrying a powerless people.

"I've even asked someone I know in Wang Du and Nenia Island to study how to control conversion and magic, but I can't take care of the rest of my life."

"There's nothing. You're not a wacko who left it in the wasteland."

As Farkill caged in a howl and slightly sarcasm, Fiarlka said back with a frightened eye.

"It wasn't the boy who didn't go to Morniya City."

"I don't have the same purpose as the people who say that..."

"Right.... I saw stories online about people from Kirkulus countries all over the world who knew they had magic because of something, and there were a lot of people who had lost their lives without being able to talk to anyone close to them because they denied their very existence in doctrine."

Fiarlka, the people of the lake, misses the conversation.

Farkill got on the subject.

"Yep. That's what I said. I saw things on the bulletin board."

Those who possess magic but do not know how to control it will erupt their magic with a mundane bounce, causing great damage to their surroundings.

If Kirkrush does not acquire the magic it forbids as a "bad cause” and be able to control the magic, the very existence of the person becomes an abomination.

In this area around Lake Lacus, the mix of powerful and powerless people progresses, and some families mix the two.

Like employee Cruello and his sister Amana, they can live amicably in the Nemoralis republic of both wheels of the country, but in the Artel republic and other Kirkulus-based scientific civilizations, the magical must spend their lives diving (hissing) their breath.

"In the northern part of the Alton Gaza continent, there are a majority of half-vision people, but there are a lot of people around here who have spiritual vision, even people without power."

"Right. I can see it too..."

"You know what that means?

I had never thought about it before, but if you say so in this flow, there was only one conclusion to be reached.

"I... am a powerless people, but to my descendants... may a powerful people be born in seclusion... is that Cotto?

To Farkil's answer, Fiarlka, the people of the lake, breathed heavily.

"You're really smart enough not to think of me as a junior high."

"I've read all kinds of literature online..."

"There are many demons, and there is no bloodthirsty people without pure power. In this land protected by the gods, the teachings of Saint Kirkulus are no different from the chains of curses that capture everyone's heart."

"Is it because someone born with magic, sorry to be born, has to commit suicide..."

"That's right. A little over two hundred years after Kirkulus came to pass, many misfortunes were born that could not have been."

"But... in a time when so much information can be sent out, it's impossible to get rid of faith completely. How do you remove the teaching of Kirkulus from Lake Lacus alone?

No matter how long it takes, it will be impossible to eliminate faith without blood.

If you try to take faith by force, you want to cling the other way around.

Fiarlka, a long-lived race, said in a friendly voice to the boy of a powerless people.

"Take the time, little by little, to make you realize that if you follow that teachings, you will not be able to live, and vice versa, you will be unhappy. Even now, Kirkuls on Alton Gaza are secretly arguing online about doctrinal inconsistencies and the Church is taking a leap to curb them."

"Disclose hidden information, tell me the truth, make me think with my own head... that's all, I wonder if it's going to work like that...?

"I can't do it right away. But depending on where this war is going, things will change dramatically. You abandoned your home and your country because you wanted to tell the truth, didn't you?

"Well, yes..."

Farkill himself was floating in the classroom.

I can't understand and get along with any of the families, teachers, classmates, neighbors, or priests who believe in the teachings of Saint Kirkulus from their heads.

Between them and Farkil there was always an invisible wall lying, speaking the same Hunan language, but Kotoba did not always make it through.

Soon, I gave up the conversation.

That renunciation further thickened the wall.

"Boy is smart, so you read the scriptures, you realize the contradictions just by comparing them to the actual state of society, and you lose faith.... You thought it was ridiculous, didn't you?

"I don't care if they say you're smart or something like that..."

Regardless of Farkill's confusion, Fiarlka continued.

"I'll just show you the inconsistencies, and more people will notice. If you add that to how the Church is deluding itself, more, more."

"But then, Mr. Fiarlka says, the retards remain unaware, don't they? What do the people who say that do?

"The majority of people who say that are flushed by the atmosphere of saying 'That's what everyone says' because they don't have a big opinion and they're weak enough to think for themselves. You change the flow, I'll follow you on my own."

... change the air of the times, Cotto? How?

"Who doesn't get flushed?

"Being a minority doesn't affect a lot of people because they get narrower shoulders and most people shut up, and people with weak thinking power don't listen to minority opinions. So don't worry about it."

"But I'm a minority now, but not so much online..."

"You worry about the opposite happening. Thank you. But I'm fine. There are a lot of kids in Kirkurist societies all over the world, and the sparks are smoking everywhere."

"Is it a cot that if you throw down fuel, you'll be on fire all over the world at once...?

Fiarlka didn't answer that, but her confident attitude told the whole story.

Farkill exhales and nods in his thick breath, asking the last question.

"So what exactly do I do with the advertising tower? Right now, I'm working on translating and reproducing that topic on the bulletin board into Hunan, but otherwise."

"You can talk about it as your own experience, or as a form of hearsay as a“ traveler, "so while you live in Artel, diffuse what you thought was inconsistent, troublesome, and painful in your SNS."

"Is that all you need?

"If that's the case, you can even do one of the things a boy or yourself wants to do."

"Well, if that's about it..."

"I ask others to do something else, so I want you to deliver a raw voice. You don't have to."

"... ok"

Farkill's life came to life once and for all until he left Artel and his chest was clogged.

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