Seirei no Moribito

A resentful voice cursing the world, a madness escaping reality, a tear moaning at unbearable grief.

The place where all sorts of despair and their ends were gathered was the cage that existed beneath the "Knights of the King's Capital".

The sunlight that shines on the ground does not reach, and prisons built in the ground do not weather after hundreds of years, and minimal light sources can be obtained by means of old-fashioned "spirits” fueled from the ceiling.

He sighed quietly at the unusual appearance of the inhabitants of the basement, whose colours were also falling out of their eyes, whose skin was creepingly white on their hair that had fallen out of pigment, the “Spirit” beneficence.

The appearance of stopping fighting, even giving up hope, and just accepting and giving up that routine is a nostalgia for him, as well as a reminder of the abominations that his bowels boil back.

(... no, isn't that what I could have said)

He burned with hatred and revenge, and still gave up on the impossibility of doing so, and he accepted the situation.

They were also similar to the ones who stayed here since birth.

"... why am I here?"

Yeah, I don't know a few times. I throw up my doubts, and he - Eileen still has lazy days today.

It's been about three weeks since I've come to the basement where there's no way to accurately measure or know time.

Without losing his memory and at the same time losing something and looking at his blank mind, he was just brought here to be urged.

Everyone speaks with one voice that the way he is now, who feels nothing, thinks nothing, has no obsession or interest in anything, is as if he were someone else to those who knew Eileen before he lost his memory.

For his part, he sees himself as a state in which the important elements that constituted his present personality were missing.

If you say you're not interested in the cause or cut that happened, you're lying. But if he asks if he wants to know, he immediately shakes his head to the side and refuses.

I don't care about that touched tragedy or anything. The abominations, grudges and voids that you forget and continue to hold are all a product of the past.

Whether to spare an emotion that cannot be abandoned, or feel powerless in a void that does not have an answer, he was divided that there was nothing he could do about it now.

Neither the outside world nor this bleak underground world has changed in that it is dominated by someone, and the unfounded certainty that the shadow of someone, who would have always laughed in memory, no longer exists anywhere, deprives him of his strength, obliterates his principles of action, and a heart that feels neither hope nor despair keeps him here.

It's all over, something new never even starts.

I can't find any meaning or significance in doing so.

Yes, it doesn't matter anymore.

For him, neither the outside world nor the underground world was worthy of obsession, and it did not matter whether he died or not, as the world perished.

Even if I have feelings that I think I hate, I can't and won't avenge them. Everything is pointless and worthless, but another self whispers in one corner of my head if this is really okay.

I kept forgetting, I was just wondering if I could just stay here.

He blocks his ears, even though he shakes off such an illusion as irrelevant, tells him that there is no such thing as untrained, and grinds at a girl with a sunny smile that glimmers from time to time in the back of his brain.

Because it doesn't matter. Because it's none of my business anymore.

He puts such silent words on a quiet sigh with a hardened heart somewhere, and he meditates his eyes.

(... it's none of my business. Whatever happens to them, I don't care... if this world breaks down)

I still float behind my brain, heartbroken as if I were being eagled by the voice and full grin of a girl who can't remember her face or her name.

No, no, no.

He reluctantly moves his gaze at the sound of opening the rusty iron fence and the frightened screaming and hiding behavior of the young boys and girls, wondering how many sights he would have had since he got here, as if he were some other HR.

Since that distraction that Eileen made the first time she came here, the inferior crew who seemed to have come here from time to time stopped coming perfectly, and instead, all the crew who seemed to have been close to him - those who were also executive or involved with them, etc. - came to visit.

Even today, at the end of his gaze was a young man named Captain Schneidel of the "5th Division", who approached him with one hand up, easily speaking, when he found the face he was looking for.

"How's it going, Eileen?

……

Even if you know this one over there, there are even rumors from him that they were enemies on top of equal to the first meeting, and to add, this man is frigid.

To Schneidel, who knew all of his vigilance and circumstances and was still familiar with them, he whispered his tongue without concealing it and said it was unpleasant.

Schneidel shrugs her shoulders and waves her head when she tells him to do it, sitting next to him in grand disregard of the silent appeals around him, including him, showing signs of sitting down.

One more tongue, he opens his mouth trying to move on with the conversation and get rid of it quickly.

"What can I do for you, Lieutenant Colonel Albert Schneidel?"

"You're behaving differently, Eileen. Do you mind if I call you the instructor?

"... what can I do for you"

"... he's still the one who can't get the joke through"

against Schneidel, who, as if to see an incapable apprentice, behaved with a loud tongue so that he could hear himself around him, with a murderous look,

What can I do for you?

"... as usual, I just came to see your face... and I wanted to ask you something, Eileen."

"What do you want to ask?

to Schneidel, who had rarely come with errands, unlike usual, who had come to see him again and again. He accidentally glanced next door,

"Don't you remember the name 'Iselia'?

As he first noticed and interrogated, he shook his head with a strange look on that name he first heard, to a seriously faceted Schneidel who wouldn't even miss a minor change.

"... there's no reason to remember"

Forgetting also the high-pressure, unwieldy Irene attitude she was taking from her vigilance, Schneidel sighed, after all, in a flat reply that looked like him now and seemed uninterested before him,

"... here we go, then we can't swap information..."

Though he felt unusual about Schneidel's appearance, which drifted like a bottomless heart, he naturally did not take any interest in it, but rather fixed his gaze to the universe.

The “Spirit” that could not be seen, but could be seen by those who could see it, after being told that it was often gathered there, somehow fixed his gaze in one place, but he still did not see the existence of a “Spirit” that could not have been seen in the past.

Still, he turned his gaze unexpectedly if he realized it, because he felt like the memory he'd lost was complaining about something, but concluded that it wasn't a big deal to a memory he couldn't even remember one scale after all, and he glanced back at Schneidel again.

Schneidel squeaks something in her mouth and then scratches her hair and gets up and goes straight to the door, which is the only way in and out.

He quietly exhaled and drove Schneidel out of consciousness to that appearance, which he thought depressed by the oddity of his utterly illegible intentions, but went home to adultery,

"- Emilia Shenti"

To that name, which was pounded and grunted, he reacts aggressively to reflect on Schneidel's posterior appearance.

Schneidel looked away at him with an invincible grin,

"The name of an important girl who couldn't be truncated if you wanted to... Don't you want to know, Lynn?

"... what is the purpose...?

"... this is just a faculty solo. Even if you don't remember your mind, there are things your body remembers... if you react to her name unconsciously, I think your interest will grow... Bye, Lynn."

Schneidel glances at Lynn with pleasant eyes, as if she was up to something. Now it's time for the occasion to follow.

Enlighten his plan and leave phosphorus teething abominably.

"... Albert Schneidel... ugh"

tight, bitten teeth make noises and deviate,

"You're dragging me out to the stage again...!

Behind that raid that resulted in him losing his memory, Lynn and Emilia and a handful of third parties are the key to giving all the answers and the truth.

Schneidel's purpose was to get him to recover his memory and shield the hostages to tell them everything about what had happened that day.

In order to do that, first of all, we have to get him interested. About a person named Emilia, a girl who was close to Lynn.

In an aggressive attempt to move himself, Schneidel took many trips to places like this,

"... abominable, hypocrites...!!"

Lynn finds out about it throws up like that with a gushing urge.

Since that incident they call distraction, let yourself be left to a passion that you can't hold back even if you try to.

Apathetic and emotionless. A boy who says he has no interest or interest and doesn't even care about his own life or death.

It was now Lynn who lost his memory and lost his purpose, and at the same time it was now Lynn who held together a revenger-like side that hits an unexplainable hatred with passion.

There is no room to notice Lynn today about this two-sided contradiction.