Re:Zero Kara Hajimeru Isekai Seikatsu

"What, you look disgusting. What are you worried about?"

Just before we reached the control hitchhike, Ricard called out to the ruggedly sidelined knight.

Stop her legs, Julius raises her eyebrows unexpectedly.

"Surprised, Ricard. I didn't expect you to have the delicate care to care about someone else's finesse that way."

"I don't care if you mislead me with boring rhetoric. Yeah. The only thing I'm with is Wye. I don't even have a daughter, so I'd like to keep it a secret even if I throw up a weak tone sometimes."

"... you're no match for me."

I don't usually get to feel it, but Ricard looks at people a lot as if it's a big mess.

Otherwise, the head of a group such as' Iron Fang 'would not be able to serve, and it would be convincing to hear his spectacular background heard in fragments. If you're not looking around, you can't live all about yourself. Slaves, mercenaries, natural for both backgrounds.

"Sora well, the year's work is a nasty one! I'm still going to play Otton, which I can count on in Wye's faction. I'm always ready to talk to my son-in-law."

"My daughter and son-in-law are terrible. I don't have such feelings for Anastasia."

"Oh, my God, don't say that about your daughter. Maybe it's Mimi. Do it. There's no other Wai's daughter, but she's not convincing when she first comes out."

――――

Julius laughs bitterly. Quietly waving his neck sideways is always graceful, but still lacks glory in his choice of words and rhetoric.

And the signs are:

"The recapture of the city hall, how strange from around there. Your daughter agrees. I don't think your daughter ever heard you go in, but Wye's going in."

"You won't forgive me."

"Naturally, my life is at stake. I'm sorry to leave my back with someone who's lost. What's the most plausible little theory you can put back?

"... No, you're right. I'm the one who's wrong. Indeed I am now exposed to a hesitant stray of what I say"

Honestly nodding to the pursuit of Ricard, Julius frowns in good shape.

I just don't get any more words out of that annoying side. Ricardo also cut a paralysis in this attitude and snorted slightly grumpy.

"Why are you silent there? You can't get lost. Honestly, if I put it in your mouth, yeah. What are you getting lost about?"

――――

"Julius."

"I'm sorry. I don't know what to say, I can't find the right word. - The cause of my straying, as you have also guessed, is the Bishop of the Great Crimes encountered in the city hall. Of" bulimia, "it must be someone named Roy Alphardo. Must be..."

Toothed badly and cut the words, Julius bewildered his yellow eyes.

"Like other Bishops of the Great Crimes, perhaps' bulimia 'must have only the puzzling power of what. There was also a part of the story of eating memories and eating names that was obnoxious from the damage done to the white whale. But..."

"Julius -!"

Just about touched the core, slightly impatient recall call. It also immediately passed on to Julius what it meant.

- It transmits underfoot, the atmosphere trembles, the sound disappears from the world, and the light rises into the sky.

There is no other sight where blue polar light pierces the night sky.

It must be the remnants of that slaughter, unleashed by the strongest individual in the world.

"They'll do it flashy. That's definitely one of Kensei's shots, right?

"Oh, it would be Reinhardt. Apparently, the Subaru made contact with 'Greed'. You can't take lag. We have to hurry, too."

Where attacks on other Bishops of the Great Crimes have begun, it is not necessarily the case that the rest of the Bishops of the Great Crimes will simultaneously engage in acts of reprisal, but it is also not necessarily the case that some action will not be taken.

Aiming at an approaching control hitch, Julius and Ricard speeded up their legs.

"So, what's wrong with 'bulimia'? Did you do an out-of-digit monster without it?!?

Take the Daiju on his shoulder and ask Ricard to continue his interrupted story to Julius, who goes forward. Julius looked back with only his neck and denied it with only his gaze.

"No. I can see that it wasn't really out there, but at least the skill of 'bulimia' wasn't enough to say that it went beyond people's knowledge in itself. Me and you can get enough of each other. - It's just that the creeps of the enemy are in a different place."

――――

It would be a response that I don't get the guidelines, because Julius himself doesn't know the real part of that creepiness. And it was Julius's selfishness as rare that he didn't say that to the debate during the selection of the offensive group earlier.

Julius sees' bulimia 'as a creepy, inexperienced enemy, yet again, he thinks he has to cross swords.

Ricard doesn't know where the reason is.

To Julius himself, I can't put it clearly into words.

――――

Kick the cobblestone and turn the corner to break down the street. And a control arrangement that emits a different color compared to other buildings, where one of the four is now -,

"Ah, I thought you'd come. I thought you'd come. Yeah, right, right, right, right, right, right, right, right, right, right, right, right, right, right, right, right, right, right! He said it was worth the wait!

- One boy stands in a cobblestone square in front of the entrance to the control platform.

Scorched tea hair that put together thin, dirty bolt cuts and left them to stretch. Madly grim eyes glow with pleasure, with sharp dog teeth and a dripping tongue of covetousness spilling from his mouth.

Small body, sloppy lower arms. No matter what you look at it from anywhere, it doesn't look like a great deal of power or anything - if you don't have the temper to be scared, released from its entire body.

"For once, check.... You're sure it's him?

I don't ask if that's him. Definitely him, that's for sure.

Julius also responds to that recard inquiry by just quietly pulling his jaw.

Without a doubt, unquestionably, it is the Bishop of the Great Crimes of 'bulimia' who stands there.

Chewing the memories and names of others, you're the worst blasphemer.

"Roy Alfaldo -"

"Yes, you're absolutely right. That's our name. I'm glad you remember. Glad to hear it. Glad to hear it. Glad to hear it. Because I'm happy. Because I'm happy, I'm drunk! Raging! Says it's worth eating and drinking. And..."

Called his name, Alphardo laughs terribly brutally. His gaze remained intact and turned to Ricard standing next to Julius.

Open your mouth full of fangs and squeal your nose with a trance eye.

"Now he's eating, so he even brought me to the dog. I can't wait to take care of that. Because Julius Euclius is the only one who has a bad stomach. What a thin flavor."

"I was just getting tired of hearing your insults, too. In an effort to settle early, I hoped to accompany a friend this time. I can't say it's elegant to take more than one person..."

"Ah, fine, it's like that on the front door. That's how Julius feels about raising his consciousness, but I think it's too thin. We're gastronomers, so we're loud about flavor, but Julius doesn't feed top notch people we've ever seen! Little Chili came together too much."

"That's... instead of a big welcome ahead, it's something you can say that's inconvenient"

"That's what I can't help! We're not meant to be. I mean, there's something about it that's a little dragged on. I just want you to overlook the fact that there's a bit of inconsistency, because that's the nature of it."

Waving flirtatiously, Alphardo doesn't bend his posture just a little bit. Julius remains calm in his provocative attitude, but Ricard can't hide the discomfort better instead. Tongue and ring the bones of your neck.

"Whoa, you can say whatever you want, kid. You can miss it from the kid. If you want, you can make a big mistake. Your taunting is not adorable. The dimension that just needs to be tapped on the butt takes over. I'm gonna crack your balls."

"Oh, scary scary scary. Don't stare at me like that. I apologize if I was disturbed by what you said about dogs, Richard Welkin. We still kind of admired you, didn't we? Don't be afraid, it's a big mess you can talk to with a big voice!

――

Called his name, Ricard sidelines Julius with his face up. Julius shook his neck sideways in that gaze.

Weird. Alphardo's statement doesn't wipe away any discomfort to truncate that it's just a madman's paranoia. For instance - when did he find out Ricard's name?

"You creepy kid.... Where did you find Wye's name?"

"I'm not smart enough to look into it. We're just talking about what's natural, you know. Isn't that right, Julius?

"I can't respond to being asked for consent. Because I don't know you as well as you do. So if that's your M.O., let me cut it off."

"Look, I'll draw that kind of boring conclusion again. You're worried about a lot of things, anxiety, dissatisfaction, and unpleasance! It's on my chest, and I'm putting myself behind me. Huh! It's a virtue as a knight, but, you know, I'm humanly bored."

Pulling the knight's sword out, Julius whispers something quietly from his lips.

Light rose around Julius as soon as possible, and a six-colored glow surrounded his length.

Six quasi-spirits, which Julius can take with him.

It's a blend of swordsmanship and spirituality that makes Julius the Spirit Knight.

"The fragrance of inferiority, the rich tongue that has experienced setbacks, the sweet taste that thirsts for something strong, the secret fullness that I have carried with me in the afterlife, I don't know for you!

"-Recard. Inject all your strength from the start. Fit me in."

"Oh, when I leave it to you"

Waving both arms, a dagger bracketed around his wrist peeps through Alphardo's cuffs. Waving the two daggers is the 'bulimia' way to fight, but it's nothing but unreliable gains against either Julius' magic or Ricard's blow.

This battle, as long as it's not even an ambush, we already see victory and loss.

Nonetheless, it didn't look very much like Alphardo's attitude in challenging a losing battle in Ricard's eyes.

"Spirit Knight, Julius Euclius"

Behavioral, Julius names his own name before he comes to battle.

There is no discipline for Ricard, who is in charge of the Great Bamboo next to it, to name it after it. Just let it shine your eyes to reveal the extra identity of 'bulimia'.

Without any hook in that gaze of Ricard, Alphardo shrugged.

"It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay! Raging! Raging! Gastronomy, bad eating, satiety, binge eating! Big, thin, delicious, delicious! I'll eat all the roots! Life without fun is another taste we don't know about!

"- El Clauselle"

A six-colored brilliance circles in front of Julius, and the extreme light emits from the tip of the sword penetrated into the center against Alfaldo.

Multiple attributes mix in, and the power of destruction depicting rainbows is a blow that swallows everything.

Delaying into the dazzling light, Ricard steps in again with enough momentum to crush the cobblestone. Shake the daisy, so that Alphardo can crush it no matter how it moves against the extreme light.

A massacre of austere winds and a rainbow aurora with destruction - before it, Alphardo viciously strips his fangs out.

"- Really, my brother is as nice as you can imagine. We'll be all right."

- Under the moon, silver flashes cleaving the wind are scattering sparks and playing the sword trident together.

One crack of a sword trident is a sword ghostly blade that manipulates a double sword.

The opposite intercepts the sword ghost, a swordsman manipulating a sword as soft as running water.

The twinkles between the blades disturb the universe, and the sounds of steel that are supposed to be harsh are somewhere frivolous and sad. The bump in the high slaughter reminds me of the caress between the seeking lovers.

Speaking of why you call such an illusion, I'm sure that's because those two swordsmen 'gladiators are so engaged that there's no more.

"No, no, no, no!

Stuffed with breath, the sword ghost's twin swords are released in endless orbits, whether up, down, left or right.

The arc-drawing slaughter trajectory is even artistic, and sharpened slaughter is one reaching point for all swordsmen.

If you are a corner swordsman, or a slaughter that could have caused defeat if you fell in love with the blade, it behaves sparingly and fully.

――――

Countless slaughters, where a blow can be fatal enough.

But its stormy sword, its bearer's skill, is not in the human domain either.

In other words, the existence of a long sword to be wielded is one different thing.

A blade crossing so much that it seems impossible to treat it as a gain is comparable to the height of the bearer wielding that blade. But the fine-armed swordsman lets the great sword wield lightly as if she didn't feel the weight.

Hood covering his entire body softly, keeping his own gaze and sight restricted, the bearer of the long sword shakes the tip of the sword in a smooth motion that scratches the water.

Speed, sharpness, none of which extend to the imminent infinite twin swords. Nonetheless, the slaughter of the sword ghost is inhibited by the long sword body so that it is sucked in.

A woman swordsman flew heavily behind her back in front of a sword ghost with a series of tall sounds and sparks and tongues at all costs. The moment the sword ghost's reaction delays to a motion without preliminary motion and he steps forward in an attempt to chase it - the light pierces the sword ghost's brow.

"-Noo."

What flashed in the blink of an eye was the spike of a long sword that was unleashed without penetrating the skull.

A sophisticated structure that does not enlighten you about pulling the blade and a spike dedicated to slaughter approaching a straight line in blinking time - if years of experience hadn't informed you of Reaper's approaching, you would undoubtedly have died scratching your brain by the light you saw on the brink.

Tingling, my visionary Dead Phase brings heat between my brows. The Sword Ghost truncated the sentiment with one blink, and pursued the woman who stopped moving in a spike posture -.

"Gu, bu"

――――

On the verge of trying to set it up, it was a woman's toenail that slipped into her torso.

Stick it into a gap in your forged abs, and your thin, long legs scratch your guts. The silver flashes hoisted overhead, drawing half a circle, if it was broken to the weight of a blow.

Flashing straight, falling to break the moon.

Until then the silent sword flashes and turns like running water, the slaughter of Tangbamboo crackers is so sharp that they don't realize the atmosphere has been slashed, they wave it down without turning the sword ghost into two truths.

The power of a single blow is unparalleled. The skill of the bearer and the smell of the blade - both meet a level sufficient to separate the human body.

Exactly, the impending death between blinks...

"Lick it!!

With his body broken, his bouncing arms stagger his double sword over the head of a sword ghost.

A long sword slammed against the center of the overlapping blade, crushing his back teeth bitten by its power. Without being able to stand it, both arms fall and the long sword's fullness shallowly cleaves the sword ghost's forehead.

Blood erupted and my vision stained the spots red. But I don't get on my knees. The two swords are not broken either.

"Nooooooo!

The upper arm holding the two swords swells up and pushes the lowered arm back again.

With the shaking off motion, he bounced off the imminent long sword, and the female swordsman's body in front of him inadvertently opened to the shock of being floated. That torso hangs, and the kick is released before payback.

The power of a kick enough to pierce the cobblestone is absorbed into the woman's lifted shoe back. Long sword recoil and kicked recoil. Using both, the woman's body turns back and forth - the flesh of an old sword ghost leaps into a thin body fleeing into a universe with no escape.

- Good opportunity.

To the inescapable hollow swordsman, the swordsmen roar their shoulders and behave in slaughter.

He stepped into his leaping body and chased him with one shot, slapping him from up and down. Two blades arc at the same time, eating it to a thin body like a beast's jaw.

In the universe, and I can't prevent a woman in an attitude who turns her back on this one.

But its cloudless sword flashes swayed.

"-"

A woman swordsman twisting herself in the air, the hood that had covered her head coming off behind her. I couldn't stand the gravity of my upside down body, and what was hidden in the off hood was exposed.

It's the long, beautiful, burning, flame-like red hair that drowned.

――――

The moment it plunders its sight, the Sword Ghost slaughter produces less than blinking discrepancies.

Only faint, just a slight whisper off perfection. When it is lost, no one else will gain the power to prevent the slaughter that was unleashed.

But that's a lethal slack for the relative existence of a sword ghost.

I can't reach the sword's petitioner, the once beloved being of the sword god, a cloudy body or anything.

――――

In the sight in front of me, the sword ghost's throat freezes in battle.

Convinced of the decision hit, the slaughter was halfway through and had been interrupted on the verge of reaching the woman.

Nothing. That the woman drew a long sword in hollow and just plugged it in between the two looming swords from up and down. - Grab a stick in the beast's jaw, with such ease.

The tip of the long sword and the patterned buttocks are completely engaged with the double sword body. That's not the only thing that drove the Sword Ghost to war, as is the fact that there was only one noise of steel meshing.

If you get a two-wielded blade and try to keep the pleasant sound in one on top of it, there's nothing but weigh the timing when the blade approaching from top to bottom matches perfectly with the length of your gain.

The fear is the eyesight to identify it, the skill to do it, and the mental power to accomplish all that and not shake the fine dust.

"- Huh."

Something close to admiration leaks out of the sword ghost's throat into a divorce that has gone too far off track.

Moments later, the foot of the woman who took the sword attack opened wide up and down, kicking once and for all the arms of the swordsmen who were still halfway through the slaughter trajectory.

A blade that was gripped by an impact leaves his hand, exposing him, instantly, to an unlikely amount of defenselessness.

Shortly afterwards, the long sword was unleashed on the horizontal giraffe as it raised its terminator to the atmosphere.

Approaching blade speed, above all range.

Unarmed swordsmen don't have the help to prevent them, nor the time or distance to deflect them.

A long sword breaks the thin skin on the right side, leaving the gut intact, cutting off the spine, pulling it out of the left side at once and splitting the body up and down - the old body is amputated without even being able to raise a groan, punching the blood and gut. That is inherently the end of an inescapable fate.

I mean the inevitable end. Natural curtain pull.

The end of the blade I've spent my whole life on, taking everything away, not even redeeming.

- At such an end of the day, it can't be accepted.

"Ohhhhh!!"

For a moment, I rebel against the end of the blood that passed behind my brain.

The sword ghost's throat set the visionary end to flames, and the scarlet vigour erupted into flames. The concentration of the extreme state obscures the passage of time, the sound from the world, the color, everything but yourself and your opponent disappears.

An approaching blade draws an imaginary orbit and pierces his torso.

Slowly, I can apply the power of the Spirit to both legs in a sensation more than a dozen times more gravitational than the original world, with the heat and pain of blood in the feel of the blade tearing thin skin apart.

The heel chooses the cobblestone and stomps through it, gaining recoil by swinging both arms down to the right.

Twist your body at the shortest distance and optimal angle and turn sideways to get over the blade that touched your torso. It is a form of avoidance by rolling your body over the side sliding blade.

――――

The pursuit of the blade is delayed, avoiding a blow from all over the body and returning a servant swordsman.

In the meantime, the Sword Ghost does not fly backwards, picking up the two jumped swords in hollow. He exhaled deeply, clasped his hands on his chosen flank, and ascertained the depth of the wound.

Never shallow wounds.

He broke into the blade on the right side and twisted himself and turned sideways in that state. If you turn around with the blade stuck in your body, naturally, your body will have a circular slash.

Fortunately, it seems that the cutting tip could barely be avoided on the verge of reaching the gut, but the amount of blood dripping from the cut wound is small enough to scrape the surface of the gut.

Severe enough injuries if you are a regular person. It's a natural wound to be told to rest...

"... I don't think I can fight longer than I originally thought."

The time limit that was set was only shorter.

Sword Ghost - Wilhelm wraps his undressed jacket around his waist and stops bleeding abusively. There is no pursuit in Wilhelm, which exposes a lot of flesh and provides first aid.

The relative woman was quietly staring at Wilhelm with those emotionless eyes.

Wilhelm laughs bitterly at himself expecting some shaking, slight change to occur there. He decided on his own wound and awakened his consciousness to pain.

"No need for weakness. Don't dream. Sooner or later, you can do as much in heaven as you like."

――――

"I don't think I got lost or anything. I don't even expect heavenly differences. My wife was a woman who didn't like to wave her sword, but she never pushed anyone else to take responsibility for her sword."

Emotionally, a dead man wielding lifelong skill.

Long, supple red hair, white, clear and smooth skin. Beautiful eyes with gems, a loving face that you can remember without getting bored if you close your eyes.

Everything is right in front of you and everything can't be right in front of you.

"Teresia, you are beautiful. - So you shouldn't be here."

Turning the two swords in his hands, Wilhelm takes the stand again.

It is not the husband of Teresia Van Astrea who is here. It wasn't Wilhelm Van Astrea who was asked to be here.

You should be here, Sword Ghost Wilhelm.

- Wilhelm's heart is sharpened in front of his late wife.

Blood boils down, and anger at the evil beings who have done this work is endless.

But for this moment, this moment, this integration, I don't need anything extra.

A friend, a comrade, his wife, told Wilhelm.

Don't cloud your sword with heat, don't do anything boiling in blood, love the cold of steel.

Not now. Is it getting hot?

"No, it's cold. - Like a blade."

Under the moon, when a sword ghost shoots through his enemies with his gaze at steel.

Relative super swordsmen also rocked the tip of the long sword without hesitation.

For a moment, once again, the sword flashes are released towards each other.

The sound of steel being met resembles screaming, pleading, courtship.

Hopefully it will end, just as I hope it won't.

As if to exchange endless words, the sword triumphs continued to resonate with each other.

"Ah, fuck you! React, no!

Kick the ground, kick the wall, kick the roof, jump.

Its shape is desperate to strip its fangs out as it flies diagonally through the universe and sways in the breeze of a short blonde hair.

Tongue punching overlaps on tongue punching, and a burning sense of impatience takes away room from my heart.

"Chicken! What's wrong with you, Oi!

Dressed and landed while running out without stagnation.

It is the first artist to have both physical strength and physical ability beyond human knowledge. But a man who jumps across the city with one of his own flesh, there is no proud color in his expression.

Just so desperate, keep barking at the unresponsive hand mirror.

Running is Garfiel, calling is the magic device in your hand - a dialogue mirror.

A dialogue mirror that should be able to connect with the same individual in conversation, without its reaction. No one answers Garfield's call. Two sets, even though there are candidates to react.

"The city hall, the people who are dealing with 'Anger'! Why don't you answer me?

We should have shared a dialogue mirror for the purpose of keeping in touch and each one of us should have come to the offensive strategy.

In fact, we were able to keep in touch shortly after we left the city hall. But as things stand, the dialogue mirror is silent on its function, which actually needs to be contacted.

- I have to tell you, right now.

"I have to tell you to get out of the city hall!"

Jumping at the abandonment, jumping across the street in front of you all at once for a short cut.

Roofs trampled by rampant landings can be smashed, but Garfiel doesn't make it a one-stop shop. We must now prioritise the preservation of the counter-attacks over the damage done to the city.

Garfiel's in a hurry, and it's the city hall on his way.

Garfield is back alone in that place where he just left a few dozen minutes ago. Leaving Wilhelm, who was accompanying him, calling desperately on the dialogue mirror.

There is no other reason for this.

Because the danger is imminent in the city hall where it is based.

- Wilhelm and Garfield arrived at the occupied control hitch of 'Lust' almost at the same time that Reinhardt's blow was hit by 'Greed'.

The two warriors embarked on a controlled ride as they saw the extreme light going up the other side.

Neither the witch who picks you up nor the one who gets in the way of blocking the road. As expected, the witchcraft's power to join the raid on the city stayed just as the executive class came out.

I carried it well to that point. The functions necessary to operate the city's water gates, there are few places and rooms to see among the control seats equipped with them alone.

The two went straight for the upper floor, preparing for a showdown against 'lust'. The 'lust' faction is most likely to be dangerous as a power ratio. In addition to "lust," two super warriors and three convenient enemies have to be dealt with by two - nature, tension filled the whole body.

"If possible, the female swordsman would like to give way"

"I heard something from the Admiral. But you know what, even I need you for that woman. Yes, I can't give up."

"- I'm my wife. They lay down the wreckage of their wives, and trample their souls, and cause their swords to be set against what their wives once tried to protect."

――――

"After all, it's not something you can forgive."

On the road, Wilhelm's words uttered his own reasons for fighting.

Garfiel, who should have had a reason not to give in himself, was so powerful there that he accidentally clasped his mouth. At a time when I couldn't say it back, or which was right for that woman swordsman's opponent, it might have been decided.

――――

I didn't put it into words, but Garfield gave up his enemies to Wilhelm. Wilhelm received the same and pulled his jaw even if he didn't say thank you.

Garfiel was therefore reversing her entire body's hair production as she stepped into the control landing.

If Wilhelm is going to cross with that lady swordsman, the two remaining opponents must do so themselves. Of course the swordsman is a strong man, and the giant man who was next to him does not take a pull.

I see 'lust' as inferior in combat, but Svalbard also tells me that the Bishop of the Great Crimes should not be afraid of combat, but the way it is.

Quiet tension and the will to be regarded.

When his sense of smell captured the scent of blood that gradually became stronger, Garfield equipped him with a silver shield that was attached to both legs, kicking open the room of interest abruptly.

And in doing so, I saw it.

"You can't wait for a grownup, Barca"

On one side of the room, its blood lettering painted with a large amount of blood.

The moment I realised what it meant, Garfiel's brain boiled.

Attitude against the raid, striking an escape as normal. There is no obligation to wait. It comes openly, to its spirituality.

"- I was losing it. That they're in this kind of arrangement."

Wilhelm pulled the dialogue mirror out of his nostalgia as he pressed his voice to death. I immediately tried to contact the City Hall because Wilhelm had come to the possibility first.

"If we assign power to the attack, naturally, the battle power of the main force will be diminished. These hands don't hesitate to target those gaps."

Wilhelm tongued into an unresponsive dialogue mirror in front of Garfield, who turned pale.

At the same time arose the intense hostility of a concentration falling from the rooftop of a controlled hitch.

Garfiel understands the presence of his enemies to the sensation of being able to stroke his spine with a blade.

Wilhelm also realized the identity of that hostility.

Lord Garfield, the city hall, please.

"If you're just gonna rush back, I'm gonna be quicker."

Exchange of intentions is an instant.

The remaining enemies are unquestionably sharp swordsmen. If you turn your back and try to escape, the blade will incidentally cut you both down from behind.

Either needed to stay.

And one of them needed to go back to the city hall.

"Keep calling. - My Lord, please."

"I don't even have to be told." The voice of the libre makes the soldiers boil. "

Receiving a thrown interactive mirror, Garfield jumped out of the control seat.

He jumps straight across the city, crosses the waterway, and keeps calling on the unresponsive dialogue mirror all the time. - Perhaps Wilhelm's battle has also begun.

"Fuck you! Mandy, I don't mean to be scratched... ugh!

If "Sex Love" raids the city hall, there is little fighting power to respond.

Anastasia and Ferris have no fighting power, and Kursch has fallen from injuries. A few constituents of "Iron Fangs" are on guard, but their strength is not enough compared to Mimi's.

The moment I thought about Mimi, Garfiel's chest ached painfully.

The girl who pulled herself back, sheltered and saved me, still in the abyss of death.

It should have been my job to connect her life and save her.

The role was ceded to others in emotional matters, and opportunities for retaliation were distant. Then even the work that should have been undertaken in its place cannot be fulfilled satisfactorily.

What am I doing? What the hell are you doing?

I can't face Mimi, Subaru, my sister, Ram, anyone.

"Me again. - Oh!

Can there be nothing left to do?

A pitiful looking self in a non-responsive dialogue mirror. It's the moment you curse it.

"- Huh!?

Shortly after he stepped on the roof and jumped, his reaction to the shadow jumping straight from the side was delayed.

A body floating in the universe eats a direct hit of much more massive than it is, and is jumped straight into the sidelines.

I can't even squeal bitterness because I'm strangled with my elbow caught in my throat. Blood and oxygen stop circling the brain, making it rapidly harder to maintain consciousness.

It was the shock of being slapped all over your body that stopped you from connecting your consciousness that kept you away.

A body intercepted in the hollow flies diagonally and clashes straight into the building. While crushing the wall with his whole body, he winds up the smoke and Garfiel's body swings.

Understand that dull pain and the pain of bone crushing raised a groan and at the same time the restraint came off. Garfiel uses a spring all over his body and punches him within reach to wake up his body.

My body is in a bright disappeared building. There were signs that the smoke, which could soon stand in, lit up in the moonlight and wore white, in front of the eyes spitting out blood sputum.

That must be the tension that shot himself down and knocked him in here.

"Come on, imitate me."

With his fist up, his fist struck out the ear belly the moment he tried to jump in.

The entire abs are struck by a giant opponent's fist and Garfiel's body rises. Shortly afterwards he was beaten by a fist that was swinging down from the top, crushing the floor that was half broken as it was and pushing it further downstairs.

"Oh, what... oh!?

He is slapped in the back of his shoe by a body that has fallen into depression.

Spitting blood on momentum and mass, both accompanying damage, kicked the opposite body even harder and rolled. Keep blowing up the building entrance and Garfiel's body is thrown out onto the street.

Garfiel wakes up his body, coughing up at awesome power. At the same time, he applied simple healing magic to his body and raised his face with only a broken bone in contact.

After Garfield, what emerged from the building was a shadow big enough to look up.

Cover your whole body with black robes and still have thick arms and legs that you can't hide out. It is not an exaggeration to say that the whole body is made of muscle armor rather than muscular.

For Garfield, it's already the third enemy we've met.

I already know that name.

"Kurgan of 'Eight Arms'...... ugh"

Once, one of the heroes said he waved a sword in the Vorachian Empire.

More than a decade ago, the story was that he died in battle during the battle of the Empire's urban defense, because the way he is now, like Wilhelm's wife, is humiliated after his death?

――――

As soon as Garfield spoke his name, the giant - Kurgan stretched out his arm.

At the same time, the clasp on the robe that was covering his body comes off and its appearance is exposed. That's synonymous with showering hero Kurgan's beauty up close.

As I imagined, its robust flesh is wrapped in thick muscle armor.

There is a mighty stature comparable to that of a giant tribe, and from its neck up there is the face of a fighting god full of hegemony and war, not to mention ghosts.

And if you fight God, it's the eight arms that support that alien fighting power.

Normally, in addition to the two arms that extend from the shoulder, two more arms extend from the same origin. If the gaze drops, two more arms will extend around the flank under the shoulder to the starting point, and the remaining pair will face the palm from the back side to the front.

A body that is worthy of the Kurgan name of "Eight Arms," so much so that it can deprive the enemy of his will merely to relate, that it just specializes in battle.

――――

In front of a breathtaking garfiel, Kurgan gets his gain silently.

Wearing on the outside of the thick legs, oddly in the same shape as Garfield's shield, is a thick, long, distorted blade - a 'ghost knife' waved by the fighting god.

The fighting god furthermore removes two ghost knives from the back side as well. Convenient, four ghost knives. The four remaining arms are unarmed, but Garfiel remains overwhelmed by their appearance.

I can't even afford to bite you with being licked, etc.

――――

There was tremor.

Before a real hero, Garfield's body was quietly trembling from the inside out.

To the hero Tan, to the legendary figure, to the great man who gave his name, is the garfiel he admired.

You can't possibly know the Kurgan name of "Eight Arms".

Many of the legends left by that fighting god were also in Garfiel's definite yearning.

That now stands before itself as an enemy puppet.

It's a bad dream. The nightmare must have lasted a long time since the day yesterday.

Otherwise, how can all this malice come down?

"... Ha, ha"

With his breath absurd, Garfield reaches out to his own feet.

Just like the Kurgan ghost knife, there's a silver shield on there. I touched that edge with my finger and managed to remove the clasp while sliding my nails onto the surface over and over again.

Equip your arms with shields to cover your fists. Fists were met to ascertain the attachment, and the high noise echoed in the night sky.

Gear's ready. The wounds, too, are undressed.

It's just that my heart still is, and I'm just getting lost somewhere.

"Idiot, if you're saying so -!"

Bite his back teeth off, and Garfiel punches himself in the cheek.

I shook my head in such pain and shock that my vision blew, I looked forward again. Keep your fists up and strip your fangs to the fighting god standing in the front.

"Stop here, what am I for? Wow! And the Admiral! Even the others are fighting! The only way to fight is to get stuck!

――――

Kurgan is still silent on the barking garfiel in the mood.

Keep it up, just quietly. Towards the fighting god who looks this way, Garfiel lets him scratch his bark and he steps down the street and approaches it all at once.

Coming from the back of his shoe, he draws up the power of the earth through the 'Protection of the Earth Spirit' and sends it all over his body to turn it into a blow.

That's a fist with the power to collapse a stone building in one blow.

The fist blow reinforced by a silver shield even smashes the hero with its hard blow.

Both arms released from the hipster state are in a straight line and slapped into the sternum of the kurgan -.

"- You know what?"

――――

A blow from Garfield's body is prevented by Kurgan's protruding ghost knife.

One ghost knife, with a direct hit to the belly of that blade, had all the power of the blow taken.

I'm not flushing or bouncing.

Simply a head-on force prevented a blow.

of the 'Eight Arms' hero, in just one arm.

"- Buh."

A fist from his shoulder is slapped against the face of a stiff garfiel. An opposite body is grabbed by one of his arms that extends from his flank, and he takes a beating without missing a shock.

In an instant, the cheekbones crumble and the fundus crumbles. His right eye vision stained bright red and his sharp dog teeth smashed in the middle and blew away. He gets slapped to the ground with his torso grabbed, eats a thick kick in his leg and rolls down the street, rolls, rolls, bounces, and falls into the waterway.

"-"

In a moment everything turns away and gazes at the moon that floats above it.

Even on the moon, shortly after I felt like I was being mocked, Garfiel's body sank into the waterway.

- The water is slowly dyeing red.