Ouroboros Record ~Circus of Oubeniel~
048 Scarlet's Research < 2 >
Three days later, Marlan's dungeon, The Great Tree Sea of Darkness.
The dark Devil's Forest at noon was shaken by an unusual hustle and bustle by adventurers with "The Great Scarlet Shield" at their core.
"To, Sacrifice...! Sacrifice...!!
"Shit! It's Manticore! Marco's eaten!
"Shit! Don't lick it. Eh!
A coalition of adventurers who broke into the depths of the Tree Sea - the party Four-Headed Dragon, a group of allies, had encountered an unexpected enemy in distress.
Human Winged People Eat Warcraft, Manticore. A top monster in Crusade B, combined with high physical abilities, intelligence, and even magic. The opposing 'four-headed dragon' is also a B-rank party. There appears to be a trade-off in nominal terms, but there is a difference in force even in the same grade.
"Quadriceps" is only a Grade B equivalent strength, but Manticore is also known as B. Sometimes they even said they would burn their hands even if they thought they were A-rank adventurers.
In addition, one of the members has already died in an unintended encounter. What's more, their party composition was extremely snoring. Oh, my God, they're all swordsmen.
"Shit, shit, shit! Stand up, shitheads! Don't just let the dog die, at least let him get a hand wound!
"Heh, heh!
"Damn...... you can do it, you can do it!
It is the sword, the sword, and the sword that can be erected, following the leader's dashed instructions.
This is not the birthplace of any special attention. Simply no swordsmen gathered. Ningro, it is fortunate to have a well-balanced party.
Wall to protect your people, Heavy Warrior? What, who puts their lives at risk for others?
Healing and miraculous priests? There is no time when there has been a response to prayers to God.
A good magician with firepower and intelligence? Where is such a highly educated man?
Novo boasts the dexterity of your hand? Still sneaky, kill your enemies and you'll get the money.
There is no way that a stray peasant or a slum adventurer can possess professional knowledge or skills. Lower a sword from your hips, an easy-to-get piece of equipment. The party where adventurers from the lowest strata of such a society came together was the Four-Headed Dragon.
It's the mountain of Sekiyama that crumbles quickly, such as such a party, but they weren't. Using rare bad luck and blossoming wisdom with experience in the training field, he has risen to rank B, a high adventurer. Let's say an exception during an exception.
But it also seemed like they were about to run out of their bad luck.
(Stupid, there's no reason for that)
The leader of "The Four-Headed Dragon" squeaks only in his mouth as he tells himself.
(Am I dying? You're definitely gonna die! I've never died before. You're not even gonna die today!
Hang on to intercept Manticore, mindful that it doesn't even make sense.
Their swords know only the taste of blood in action, crude swords to and from the battlefield. It is a beast sword far from refinement. But I can kill you if I can kill you even before I do that. Monsters and creatures. If you choose the steeple with a blade, you will die. If you carve it until you can't move if it's a zombie, you go back to the body. If you pile up the money in that upsetting church and let the weapon hang its blessings, you'll be slaughtered that it would be a ghost with no entity.
Think of it, it's just a manticore and a beast. It's just somewhat strong and wise to work. Three people who die and stay, if you slaughter them in total, you must be able to kill them.
"Sacrifice...! Sacrifice...!!
"HI, HI!?
"Shut the fuck up, you beast bastard...!
Manticore dancing around drooling.
Adventurers who try to kill it and skip it.
Meanwhile,
"... you guys are way too far ahead"
A new, red beast descended.
No, it's not a beast. It is a man of history who has emerged. But the mighty wind that pays for the red hair and the earth, which is reminiscent of hyenas, is that of the king of the beasts. It's called eye light, good flexion and good stubbornness, the lion simulates to man and makes him think he's got a weapon instead of a claw fang.
[Red Lion] It is Girard Lesuan.
"To, yeah...?
Polori and Manticore's head fell to the ground. Girard's knife had cut off the Warcraft's neck even during the blink of an eye.
In the slightest light of the dim forest, the odd songknife in his hand shines like wet. No, was that really a reflection of light? If you look at it, it even seems as though the body itself is emitting an incredible phosphor.
To that monstrous light, the leader of the "Four-Headed Dragon" recovered from a moment of self-loss.
"Oh, my God! What are you going to get out of the side!?
And dye your face red and purple and skip the curse.
"Mm?"
"Ri, leader! It's awkward!?
Neither Girard's surprise voice nor his fellow interlocutors did anything to stop him. Approaching the Savior with his big crotch, he grabs that collar abusively. Not very much, but I didn't think of it as the attitude of those who were saved lives in inches.
"What a shitty warcraft! Our grip! It's our prey. Yo! What are you talking about? You want me to jump forward in front of this me, ahhh!?
"Your prey?
The reply was calm, even though he was grabbed by the collar neck and yelled at at at the distance his spit hung. No, the colour of slight confusion is seeping through.
Why is the man in front of you so angry? I have no idea what that is.
It is a voice that is so leaked out of the question.
"Aren't you the prey, the mistake of It seemed right before it happened."
"... such a kola!?
"Leader!
Stop the leader who is about to unload the sword in his hand with a member strangling his wings. It's not normal for adventurers to bump into each other in a dungeon. Even though there is a determination that killing each other is a loss of life, it will also sound a lot like a future promotion assessment. In fact, some people have stopped ranking C because of it.
But the leader tries to unwave the hand that holds him down without fitting in.
"Let go of me! It's Manticore, it's Manticore's neck!? You must be the boss of this tree sea! That's what he thinks."
"You think this is the boss of this tree sea?
Girard takes his breath off like he's turned back this time.
"Is that really what you think?
"Ahem? What do you mean..."
the voice of doubt pronounced like roaring,
- Zung.
The ground sounds blocked.
The trees shake, the branches roar, and the leaves of the trees rise and scatter. Obviously, an upset ran to members of the surviving 'Quadruple Dragon'. Obviously, something bad is about to happen.
"Hey, what...?
"Earthquake...... no, no"
"No way -"
- Zung.
- Baki, baki, baki...
The ceiling of the branches that covered the head is peeled off so that the child pulls the ant's nest repeatedly with a toy shovel. But there is no sun beyond that. What exists instead is a blood-running eye that stares into hunger and abomination. The giant first, reminiscent of a distorted full moon, looked down at the humans under his eyes.
Cyclops. It is the incarnation of violence, supposedly the closest even to giant monsters.
"- Is that his footsteps?!?
The leader of "The Four-Headed Dragon" raised his voice upside down. It is not necessary to say, as if, that it is an indisputable scream.
This giant's crusade grade is a. I don't talk about it in B-rank 'Four-headed Dragon'. It's literally a giant incarnation of death that even surpasses the earlier manticore.
"G, G, G..."
Distorted his fang-lined mouth, the giant laughs. Is that a mockery directed at a wretched man or a joy in being able to fill his own belly? None of this will work, but there is one action ahead.
It is an attack on the adventurers.
"GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!
A huge fist swung down as he raised his long tailing roar. Even the analogy of a broken castle hammer is raw against the power hidden in this blow. It was not a great deal to describe the heavens as falling.
"Grab me!
Girard jumped with the leader and members of the 'Four-Headed Dragon' that was nearby. One hair at a time, the giant succeeds in dodging its outrage on the verge of smashing the ground.
……
One of the people left behind was crushed without even having time to scream. Unfortunately, Girard, an exceptional adventurer, and a son of man. I've only grown two arms. No matter how hard you try, it's up to both of us to hold each other and take refuge.
"Four-headed dragons" had reduced their numbers in half as early as possible.
"Oh, oh, oh...!
"Ku, shit... how can I stand up to such a monster..."
They gasp for despair as the forest landscape flows away at high speeds.
The only thing that is flat is Girard running with the big baggage of two adult men. Surprisingly, he had even begun to pull apart the cyclops' pursuit, which boasted an overwhelming stride of giant deceased.
"Don't talk, I'll bite your tongue. And if you can, please don't drool. I don't want to get my armor and cloak dirty."
"Well, who's drooling!
Hate leaked out of the leader's lips as if he remembered.
It is then.
"" - Fireball. "
"" -icicle lance. ""
"Gayle Edge."
"" -Stone Barrett. ""
Demon Bullet Quadruple. Each attacking magic with different attributes pulled the tail of the light and killed it.
To Girard, not. It's on the Cyclops coming after us from behind.
Landing.
A spark of magic bursts into the chest plate of a single-eyed giant with the sound of fire burning, the sound of ice piercing, the sound of wind slashing and tearing, and the sound of stone plunging. Even those who do not know what the magic guide is, the sight of fantasy that blinds them and distracts them.
One of the four Magic Instructors who performed it shows a nigga and a grin.
"What do you think of our Apostle of Dawn? But even if it's low-level magic, if it's played by a master in the B rank, it's all that matters."
"G, ga, ga......"
A bragging mouth can be thrown against the dancing cyclops.
A corner of the alliance, the B-rank Adventurer Party, The Apostle of Dawn - a group composed exclusively of demonic mentors, symmetrically with the Four-Headed Dragon. An education that imparts innate magical qualities and knowledge of magic, and the wizards who need them, could not have gathered as many as four without skill. Again, contrary to the Four-Headed Dragon, they partied only with the Magic Master as a group of their own ideals.
A sword or a spear? Bow and arrow? Magic firepower is superior to such a barbaric substitute.
A shield to protect yourself? Armor helmet? Doesn't matter, if you exterminate it with a magic attack at a distance, you don't need protection or anything.
Healing and Protecting by Faith? Prayer to God is out of date, because knowledge and magic solve everything.
A skill in wildfire that's good at exploring? It can be magically detected and unlocked, a useless long object.
It was this party that was born at the end of such a supreme magical superiority. As proof of the correctness of the argument, the rank has risen to B, not five years after its formation. Brittle on the defense, but due to the simultaneous chanting of the four Demon Instructors, it was assumed to be comparable to the A-rank in terms of instantaneous firepower exerted.
The man who leads the 'Apostle of Dawn' snorts ridiculously at Girard.
"And it's unusual. Hey, [Red Lion]? Showing your back in a silly giant way means your two great names cry."
"You have no choice, Master."
"Though brave, it's martial arts on the border."
"The teachings of our Apostle of Dawn, cultivated by a sophisticated education, also come with and"
The surrounding members also verbally threw their followers at their leaders.
Girard brings the remnant of the 'four-headed dragon' down to the ground, and he restarts his sword in his hand. The leader of "The Apostle of Dawn" frowns in surprise.
"... what is it, that sword? You're not gonna sue me for violence."
"What are you sayin '?"
Girard turned his back as he was.
Four shots of magic, to the cyclops.
"Gwwwww......!
Landing marks that raise magic wound smoke. Rubbing that vivid wound, a more bloody glance is thrown at my anger. The monster was still alive even though it was a small shake.
"Then be an idiot!? Giant species should be vulnerable to magic... especially Cyclops with no protection of attributes!
"I've hit you four times, you're supposed to be dying!
"And, Master! What do you do!?
In one turn, the Apostles of Dawn float.
Sure, Cyclops don't like magic. If you put together a few good magicians and fight at a distance, you'll have a winning chance at a B-rank party as well.
But that doesn't mean you're the easiest person to beat. The power rolled out of the giant wipes out the human being in one blow, and when it comes to endurance, it can even be illusory.
I didn't know you insulted someone like that for being magically vulnerable, etc! Using superior magic from the start would have done enough damage to stop your legs! Girard became a feather that used his nerves to indulge in tongue beating.
"... resume chanting! Horns in the raven, beat the magic in!
"Damn! Though A-rank, what are the so-called" outsiders ordering? "
Without listening to the words of the foolish wizard or anything else, Girard shouts at Cyclops. The song knife in my hand was increasing its brilliance as it echoed Dawn's will to fight. The trajectory of phosphorescence draws its tail to the darkness of the forest. It was as if he were slashing and tearing the darkness apart.
"... Whoa, whoa, whoa!
From the mouth of [the Red Lion] comes the roar that rocks the atmosphere. Cyclops was distracted by the voice and turned his consciousness to his feet.
Girard's elongation beyond 180 cm is also like that of a baby compared to a giant rushing through heaven, no, less. I wonder if it will reach my ankle. But then there are a lot of things to do.
The owner of the giant is generally weak around his legs. The bigger your body is, the farther your feet are from your eyes, the harder it becomes to see them as blind spots. In addition, heavy loads are applied to the legs to support their weight. The aim of Girard is also that.
"Aaaaaah!!
With temper, unleash a sword attack.
Aim is on the heel, Achilles tendon where the human body says it is. Even though they are giants, they differ in size but are human shaped. Weaknesses and body structure were in line with those of humans. If the tendon is cut off, we can't move ahead of it.
The right leg reminiscent of the trunk of a giant tree, on its heel, is buried halfway through the body of a songknife.
"Guaaaaaaaa...... Huh!?
The giant screamed indulgently at the pain of being slaughtered and decimated by the steeple.
But Girard is frowning as he runs through the feet of his enemies, shaking off his gains and rebuilding them.
- Shallow.
The giant is still standing, with a blade in his heel. The Cyclops are also not A-ranked crusaders to Dada. It was not until it was inhibited by a thick epidermis and the tendon was severed with a single knife.
"G, W, W...!!
As the cyclops succumbed to the ground, they began to slap both fists to the ground, like a crying wasting child beating the floor. The little bug that moved around his feet quietly and also scratched himself on the little one - not to crush and kill Girard.
Violence that wipes out a few humans at once hits, hits, and hits in a row with a drumming rhythm. The forest ground rolls up, with a series of tremors, the earthquake itself, and the terrain around it is rewritten every second.
"Hii, hii!?
"Kola!? I'm not on the run, you shitty devil's guide! Now use your magic!
"The Apostle of Dawn" escapes and "The Four-Headed Dragon" curses at its back. Seeing this, who can see them as adventurers of war? Confidence, experience, talent, all of which don't make sense, too mighty a fear of death. That means challenging a one-ranking crusade rank.
In panic and confusion, Cyclops' targeted Girard was running around how alive he was.
"Ku......!!
Nevertheless, he is not intact either.
The winding fist pressure of a giant fist that is swung down, the thrusting impact from the ground, the flying dirt and sand and debris and pieces of wood. Avoiding direct hits did not invalidate them until such various influences, and the damage was gradually solicited. Movements will not be far off as they are and they will be targeted there. If you get a direct hit, you die instantly.
... but that's if he was alone.
"... get out of the way yeah yeah!!
With the anger, violent wind-cutting noises.
Something with a firm sense of weight ripped through the sky and flew.
And it pierces the face of the cyclops, which was giving in to make an attack on Girard, into the eyeball where there is only one of them.
"Buggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg!
Giants cover their eyes with both hands. The room water pushed out of that gap overflowed like tears, followed by a drool of vitreous bodies stained with blood.
"You had long hair, Girard!
"... I thought you were gonna die, Cedric"
Girard smiles back bitterly at Cedric, who appears with a cockroach ringing his shoulder. A heavy warrior of Scarlet Shield, he threw his own weapon and smashed a giant's monocular eye. Girard rushed around at his feet, and his enemies lowered their posture. Even if the cyclops remained upright, the target's position was too high and the power of the throw would not have been exerted much.
And then a new shadow runs through the stitches between the two of them exchanging a manly grin. It's Goche, the wildfire of "The Great Scarlet Shield".
"Sorry about the pain, but it's a chase!
Throwed with people's bad laughter was a hemp bag that seemed fragile. It erupted powdery smoke when it hit the face of the cyclops without overaiming.
"BUGGEEEEEEEEE!? Gah, gah!?
I scream hard to say, and the giant suffers stuffily. Goche used it not so much as poison. It's a smokescreen with powerful spices that can damage the mucous membrane if inhaled or placed in the eye. It is usually a tool used for eye crushing, but my eyes have been crushed from the beginning this time with hatred. Therefore, the purpose is inherently secondary effects.
"Ha, what do you say? What is the spicy scent of Western heritage? It's B inside, isn't it?
If you took away your sight, the next thing you know, you take away your sense of smell. That's what I'm looking for.
Behind Goche, who laughs like a child who has succeeded in pranks, from the bush about two meters away, this time a breeze blows up with a clean cool.
"'- or awe is the Lord's Ridge. And exhort the wicked by it. Stigmata: Ow!
Finishing the holy phrase and unleashing the divine magic is Ninon, an exotic cleric dressed in bright red Ni monk clothing. Though dressed strangely, she is also a ripe adventurer who occupies the corner of The Great Scarlet Shield. The released procedure wore the back of the giant's leg and stopped him stitching it firmly to the ground.
"Giggly...... Huh!?
Burned by the holy fluctuations pouring in from the wound, he raises a distressed voice like an evil giant screaming.
Holy Magic Stigmata. It has the effect of wearing sacred marks of imprisonment and sealing movement with piles of light. That restraint commands opponents in the realm of concepts, so it's hard to pull a thousand times as hard as a giant. It is a grand operatic ceremony that would have required sacramental chanting by a few clerics if it had been meant to be, but she was doing it alone. Let's just say we should meditate.
Ninon continued to assemble the Holy Mark with both hands and raised his voice as he sweated from his forehead.
"Yes, now rinse! Quickly, magically toddle!
Stigmata is a great magic with a powerful restraining effect, but on the other hand, it lacks killing power for a painful picture surface. The kind of demons and undead who relied on extreme evil would also be able to burn to death by holy power, but it was difficult to kill a biologically strong demon like Cyclops.
Unlike the magic of a cleric and the magic of a magician, the person who specializes in it is different.
"Yes, without being told! I'm coming, gentlemen!
"Yes, Master!
In keeping with the understandings of the leader, the 'Apostles of Dawn' enter the chant. That did not use different magic separately, as earlier. Four people cast the same spell at the same time, spinning one superior magic, if you say so, combined magic. It's the back of a code breaker who reaches deep into a demonic guide that cannot be reached alone.
And that's the technique that makes them say that if they're only instantaneous firepower, they're A-ranked.
"" "- Thunderspeare: Ew!!
The great magic that is so close to the mystery among the inner legends of the Magic Guide. By supplying magic for four and compressing the chant, it is possible to activate it in an extremely short time.
It was the thick, long, purple spear that manifested itself. The intimidation of the raging magic is truly the tip of the Thunder God. It was also a substitute for what should be termed excessive firepower to be directed against a united demon.
But still, the opponent is a Crusade Class A monster. To stop with a single blow, you need to aim for the steeple.
"Eyes!
Cedric yelled.
"My thrown hammer is stabbed! Let it go for you!
The point is the lightning rod procedure. Thunder strikes are attracted to metal at high points. To some extent it is magical to ignore the laws of physics, but by adding alterations to the technique, it is also possible to arbitrarily leave only the work that is advantageous to the operator.
"The Apostle of Dawn" followed its instructions even as he struck his tongue.
A big purple spear is released.
"... GOOGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!
Screaming.
A thunderbolt struck the hammer standing in the eyeball, from which a magical current poured in. Just behind the orbit is the brain. If you get an electric shock like a few rounds of lightning strike, it's not strange if your brain miso boils down with a fever caused by electrical resistance. Eventually, the cyclops blackened his entire body and slowly fell on his back as he sprayed boiled blood from his ear to his nose like a geyser.
Just like when you showed up,
- Zung.
and leave the ground to meet your belly.
Slightly, the B-rank Adventurers unravel their fears.
"Yay, you...?
"Heh, heh... and naturally. This is the magic guide of our Apostle of Dawn.
"It's a boulder, Master!
Together to raise the voice of joy in an explosion.
Girard and the others watched with awakened eyes.
"So if you use your current magic for the first blow -"
"Shit! Don't give me water. This alliance could finally be a stumbling block."
It is Ninon who says so and stops what is about to be foolish.
She's right, these alliances of adventurers have lacked coordination since the beginning. In the first place, the cause of the feathers encountered with Manticore and Cyclops also lies in the arbitrary devotion of the "Four-headed Dragon" who tried to get out of other parties. He ran off to finish off a big monster and turned back the other way around.
It is an alliance that lacks such a clump. From what she had difficulty adjusting, I guess now that she has defeated her mighty enemies, she wants to rain and consolidate the ground.
"Totally, unbelievable. Are they really B-ranks? Fighting power is no different than walking in horns, mindset and standing behavior, right?
"And Mr. Cedric! Shh! Don't say anything unnecessary. Say it!
"By the way, where did the other party go?
It's Goche to say that, as I recall.
We entrusted camp protection to the middlemen of C-D hired locally and stepped into the depths of the Tree Sea with three A-ranked, "The Great Scarlet Shield" and B-Rank Party. Two of them, The Four-Headed Dragon and The Apostle of Dawn, are here. So, what's the one thing left?
"Oh, excuse me. Am I late?
A new group joined from the rear, along with a voice that lacked all the tension. The B-rank party they challenge this tree sea, the last set.
The leader of "The Four-Headed Dragon" sent a frustrating gaze toward the Lord of Voices.
"Where the hell did you sell the oil?" We were both fucked in the meantime!
We put ourselves up on the shelves running out and yelling at the late party. Where were the winds blowing when they were directed, though it was a shaky place to work?
"Really? It's tough.... but it's not the other way around! Look at this!
That being said, the party's leader seemingly man puts up a glass vial in his hand. sealed with cork in his mouth. It was filled with clear liquid inside, floating there like green moss.
"I took it from the roots of the trees at the point I just passed by, and this is a kind of Mariokuhi karigoke. It's moss that glows in the dark using magic, as its name suggests, but even though this land is dark enough at noon on top of magic, this doesn't glow. But there's nothing wrong with looking at the condition. Maybe I need some kind of condition to emit light. If so, it could be a new species that lives only in this region! It's a big discovery!
"Ooh..."
The swordsman, who should have eaten and hung, was swallowed the other way around to explain flying early in the arrow succession.
Girard asks the man a question, as he replaces him.
"So? Were you late looking into that moss," Ars Longa ""
"Ha!"
A man smiling and returning a bright reply as if there was nothing to be ashamed of in full heaven.
His leading party is the B-rank Adventurer Party 'Ars Longa'. Even so, its fighting power itself is such that the elixir is elite at the top of the C. Their true value is not in battle, but in academic investigation and sophisticated analysis. He had numerous merits in ecosystem surveys of unknown secrets and excavations of ancient sites, with which he was rated B-rank.
Explore the world with curiosity and exploration, and show people the discovery of new knowledge. In a way, they are very adventurous adventurers.
But this is only in a dungeon where dangerous monsters travel. Because there were things that attracted interest, and when they were flustered like butterflies that found flowers, the companions did not enjoy them.
"Hey, Leader! This forest is interesting!
"Not at all! I've never seen an environment where so many different kinds of monsters coexist!
"In a moment, you might find a new species of unknown, ten or twenty! Ha ha!
Knowing no other party fears, the face of 'Ars Longa' is very exciting.
Girard rubbed and untied his tense temples before calling them again.
"... the investigation doesn't say don't. but at least give us a call."
The leader of "Ars Longa" blinks in wonder at the words.
"Yes? Why?
"Why?"
"Ah, you know, for once, this Alliance gatherer is our" Scarlet Shield "translation..."
"Oh, speaking of which, you did. I'll be careful."
Be careful, but the tone is mild. It was the kind of atmosphere in which a child ordered to help his parents was excusing himself to "do it later". I don't see it as a word in an iron fire where one mistake dictates life and death.
"Chip, what more do we do after this? You're an A-rank big guy, aren't you? You want to report him to the guild?
It is the leader of the Four-Headed Dragon who says it in a grumpy way. Although frustrating, there was no seriousness of those who were killed two of their companions there. That, too, should be the same for him as a party member and other swords and the same tools. If it's dead, if it's no longer available, you can trade it for something new. Though I say 'four-headed dragon', only one of my own really irreplaceable heads. Regardless, future adventures will have to be switched to something less difficult and less rewarding, but it is. I didn't even care that it was something that had happened several times before.
The leader of "Ars Longa" disputes him.
"No! The quest to investigate the identity of the Tree Sea threat is not over yet. Whatever, look. Cyclops would be less intelligent, wouldn't they? No matter how strong you are, you are not the right boss to lead the dungeon. Cause of the coexistence of diverse Fae monsters in this' Great Tree Sea of Darkness'. The quest won't end until we find out."
"This request is an investigation, not a crusade, in the first place. Hey. I didn't even know that, 'cause this is what savages are in trouble for."
It is the leader of The Apostle of Dawn who rides the Word Ass and makes tea. This man often looks down on a position other than that of a magician. Probably from a nobleman. It remains that nobles who did not succeed in the traces of the house will be adventurers. If you have magical qualities and are educated beforehand, you can emerge there as an adventurer to the good. If he were the most truly promising, he would have been a court magician or a faculty member of the Galerin Academy of Magic. This is how talent is enough, so what couldn't be done is a political problem, or a personality problem?
"N, here. You're killing me, you shitty Uranali master!
"Damn...... that's the one you want to be dropped without leaving your remaining head?" Four-headed dragon, "again," Two-headed dragon. "
Would these sticky entanglements also be the reversal of such inferiority?
Nevertheless, I'm not going to sit around forever for such a childish rub.
"... come on"
When Girard intimidated in a low voice with killing intent, the two stiffened with viculi.
"We're going further into the tree sea. It may once again be seen as a powerful demon. Do you want to expose yourself to the death of an idiot because of a broken company?
"Gu......!
"That's all I'm trying to say. If you can't even understand that, you don't have to wait for the demons. I'll kill him myself. If you want to move on from here, keep that in mind."
To put it abusively, Girard quietly moves on. As usual, Ninon softly leaked a sigh of sigh while following his companions and their backs.
(I thought maybe, but I guess not...)
This alliance is falling apart for nothing.
The Adventurer Alliance in charge of matching would have been confident. A magician is combined into a party made up of avant-gardes, investigated by those whom they have excelled in exposing and exploring. It's a balanced B-rank party gathering. Commanding and leading them is an A-rank party that sounded like a sound......
If only the numbers could be read from the documents, it would have been a perfect formation.
But here's the thing.
"Four-headed dragon", an avant-garde on one side of the offense, deviating from the grip like a maker. The Apostles of Dawn, the magical guides who merely indulge in a sense of superiority. 'Ars Longa', a seeker with narrow horizons preceded by academic interests. And "The Great Scarlet Shield" that we can't complete on our own and coordinate with other parties.
Girard just seems to have quelled the troubles of The Four-headed Dragon and The Apostle of Dawn, but not as a matter of fact. I only threatened him with that threat and temporarily silenced him. Between the two parties, the spark is still smoking, and there will be another antipathy to Girard, who has held it down by force.
This is not where alliances come together. Temporarily suppressing the division just rubbed a bigger crack as a price.
I don't have the talent to lead a large group to Girard Lesuan in the first place. Often misunderstood by splendid styles and sedentary attitudes, he is only a young man who originally grew up in the western border countryside. That's just how long they've been called A-rank adventurers as they stand by their swords to protect their homeland from demons and keep fighting their mighty enemies. He is only a swordsman and a fighter, not a leader who brings together large numbers of humans with different doctrinal claims.
For members of The Great Scarlet Shield, who are from the same town and have eaten the same pot of rice and spent their time pointing their swords at the same enemy, they are an irreplaceable and reliable leader for everyone. But that, from other parties, is only someone else in red.
If this is the western border, it's not a story. The other parties knew how much Girard and his motives for fighting were the same, so there was no problem with him taking the head. In fact, during the massive invasion of demons, he also raised martial arts in an alliance in which the "Great Scarlet Shield" was at its core.
That track record misled the Alliance headquarters. If it were them, they would be able to put together unfamiliar land, even strange parties, without any problems. Because of my experience in the West, I made the mistake that I had no choice but to lead a large group.
"Keh......"
"Hum..."
The result is like this. It is the gaze of resentment, even caged in intent to kill, that the allies fly from behind, even though they continue to haunt their heads with rushes and disobedience all the way out of the depths, saying that they just saved their lives earlier on.
It even springs up the scorn that this is the people who don't know the West, etc. Even the feeble Ninon is. The depth of its frustration, such as Cedric, who rarely moves forward, can be measured.
Everyone was desperate to fight demons in the west. No one could survive unless humans joined forces with each other and confronted mighty enemies. If it goes a little east, this is it. Most parts of the kingdom of Arquelle are not so strong in demons. If you do your quest properly, many will reach C-rank. Because the weak people who will be eliminated if they are their locals, Zanktogaren, etc., will survive. So, it's just plain wrong out of it, and these people go up to b. I couldn't forbid such a derogatory thought.
(You might as well not have taken it, this job...)
Though I think so, I can't say that I will quit now, etc. I managed to stop the aerial decomposition of this alliance, but I had no choice but to finish the quest.
The beast path stretching into the depths is dark and sinks as the rotten soil takes its feet and drifts. It seemed as if it implied their future.
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