17 abominable memory

- The woman had an ideal.

The ideal is what is often the case. Protect the land where you were born and protect the people who raised you.

If you were born in this world and lived the world correctly, there would be a lot to hold, such a dream.

The woman, who knows nothing about herself, lived on such an ideal, just like him.

Only thing that made a woman a little different from the others was that a woman wasn't just a person. Born in an old house that drew the blood of the Apostolic Spirit of the Goddess Arshna, he was a divine son, confronted by different races constantly under pressure from the north.

Such a woman often has stories to tell and be told when she learns the sword. He said the power of the Spirit is one of the few powers given to man by the goddess Arshna to counter different races.

Therefore, you should not spoil defeat at any time.

That power must never cease for people to live well.

So that's how women have lived all their lives. Pray to the goddess Arshna, build up drills and sometimes confront different races attacking from the north and defeat this. Such, I was fulfilling my ideals as reality, those days.

I had never known the happiness of being born to a woman, but I could still live every day I had imagined.

But the dream, full of women's ideals, did not last long.

On the day the new demon chief came to the throne, the woman's dream was like a foam, crushing.

By the time I heard the news at the royal castle, everything was already too late. Towns and villages were drank by a million vicious tsunamis coming from the north, and a quarter of the country was subjected to violence by different races.

It was an overwhelming number. Moreover, different races have far more power than humans to the point of their individuality. I didn't know that was more than a million, it was just hopeless.

But still, the woman fought, saying that there was hope for even a fraction of it. He said just what's left. To protect the land where it was born. I wielded the sword I had been polishing.

And with the power of the Spirit and his sword moves, he transformed many different races into wrecks that were nothing but blood and flesh.

The woman was strong. The soldiers of the North are stronger than any of them. But the onslaught was too great for them.

Before mighty malice and power, a woman's dream breaks down. The soil of women was mercilessly ravaged by different races, and those who wanted to protect them sent their tragic ends.

And the overwhelming power coming toward me was no exception against women.

General who leads different races. Disgrace was made its shackles upon the abominable demon, who suffered defeat in the righteousness of malice with mighty power, and besides, supreme the curse to be spit on.

Therefore this was no longer the last time, and the woman had decided to be ready. Here, he said he would return to the northern lands like his companions. He said he would fight through to the end with that hateful different race of generals and give them painful hands that could never be healed.

But such a woman's grievous determination was overshadowed in unexpected ways. A woman became desperate to protect me, at everyone's request.

Yes, the power of a woman is honorable. It is the power of the Venerable Spirit brought to Arshna, the goddess who rightly transformed this heaven and earth. A handful of powers, given to man to confront different races that worship evil God.

Hope that must never be taken away. A light that should not be crushed. So, rather than choosing death senselessly here, he asked me to choose whether to spoil the disgrace of escape, but to accumulate that power, or to make the next generation and poke a blade of vengeance into the devil.

... The woman had an ideal. But there was no choice for a woman.

So the woman - Refile Grakis Norcias - is still alone, in tears.

A few days after finishing membership of the Alliance. Waking up early in the morning, one Mizumi was waving a mercury knife at the garden tip of the inn.

"Shh, ha"

Regular from top to bottom, without driving the exhalation crazy, the bare gesture as per the model.

It could have happened, but regardless of the swordsmanship, it wasn't taught to my father, it was obtained in a swordsmanship dojo near the house.

My father, a magician, also weighed in on melee combat, but if taught, he would be good from the bastard on that path, which is such a carriage and has a sword.

It is also part of what was taught there.

The sword is dull if you shake it. If you fail to train for a week, it makes sense that unless you have extra talent, the survey will be obsolete.

Therefore, it is all the more so if Shui Ming lived a life of just accumulating knowledge in the royal castle.

It is true that Shuiming uses witchcraft, magic, and the like to come to the melee, so he doesn't have to fill his sword with roots that far, but he still feels more comfortable shaking it.

"Phew, I wonder this..."

After a single bare gesture, Shuiming takes a breath. Wipe the blown sweat with a cloth. Compared to the usual, it's a slightly shorter amount of training, but I can't even say that today.

There's no reason to get tired this morning. Yes, after this today, we must accompany the merchant convoy's escort to the Nerferia Empire.

The escort of the merchant corps coming and going from town to town and country to country. I took on this request for my own purposes, of course.

My purpose now is to find a way back to the world I was in, and to create the art of returning.

In the meantime, we are heading from the Kingdom of Astel to the Nerferia Empire, where there is a great deal of information and goods circulation, but first we decided to go to the city of Krant, the city at the western end of the Kingdom of Astel, in front of the Nerferia Empire.

The city of Kranto is a city on the border between the Kingdom of Astel and the Nerferia Empire. Even Astel is big after Metail, the king's capital, and the flow of information and goods is lively. Before you go to a different country, you only want to get information about that country. First of all, I will go into Nerferia by obtaining products that I think I can effectively utilize in the future.

To this end, this time, we will go along with those who have a bright knowledge of the surrounding geography: the merchant corps.

... after joining the Alliance, looking for a request of that kind, and yesterday, I was able to officially accept this request.

The multiplier of competition is high, and I was wondering if I could easily take the request, but the days I multiplied were three or four days. Unexpectedly fast.

As for that, I can still say that the presence of restorative magic was significant. By the time Shuiming, who became D-ranked, went to the point of contact to receive the request, the merchant corps had reached its maximum number of escorts, but despite this, the caravan leader's only offer that many people who could use healing magic had never crossed the limit was allowed to participate beyond it.

Again, people who can use restorative magic in this world are treasured.

Because he doesn't have a track record in his guild, he's probably thinking about it to the point of "making money if he can use it."

Still, we have plans for the future. All you have to do is travel from Metail, the king's capital.

"Well, back to it."

Think that way, put back the mercury knife you made barely, and stand up.

And I walked out to my room to get back inside the inn and make my last confirmation for the trip, where I bent over the corner.

Meetups. I ran into someone thoughtfully.

"When..., sorry -!?"

For a moment, the stars scatter behind the eye lid. I tried to bow my head in an attempt to apologize for the sudden impact.

But the fold, the apology stopped. No, I was forced to stop.

The person you bumped into. It was the guilder and swordsman girl, Refile Grakis, currently staying at the same inn at the Night Dark Pavilion.

But until you stop apologizing? We're both in the same inn. This is not an unlikely story either.

But what Mizumi couldn't apologize for stopping was Lephire Grakis. Because her presence was puzzling.

Yes, where is it? - She probably came running from outside the grounds without a flank, Refille. That outfit was for skin wear only, and how could she have swollen her eyes red and overflowed with tears of large grains.

"Ahh."

Did Refille notice herself as the person she bumped into? But still, she gasps at the sudden. It seems that trapped grief prevails over this current situation, and the eyes are still stained with spicy colors.

"Oh, uh -?"

Meanwhile, Shuiming, who regressed from the pause, is too much. I can't get my head around events that were too abrupt.

I'm not talking about not bumping into each other, but I'm unmatched about its appearance. One piece of skin clothing and an unforgivable appearance. And crying was something I could not have expected at all.

"Oh - I'm sorry..."

Eventually, did Refile regain his identity? She shook out her tears and said so in a groan, walking into the inn without listening to Mizuming's question or reply.

... for a while. Shuiming, left alone on the spot, whines in confusion.

"What the hell is this guy...?

The carving limit is early in the morning. Before anyone wakes up yet. I couldn't have gotten the answer back.