- My father was an oligarchy man.

Yes, if you close your eyes and think back, that figure that will soon come back behind the eye lid. A plastered man on a wheelchair, lacking Daughter and not moving his expression as if his emotions had faded. Eight key scenic scenery (yakagizamintsu).

He's one of the best magicians in the East, always sitting in a rocking chair by the veranda when he's at home, peering through cloudy glass over the unseen end of the sky.

As the oligarchs say, it's quiet and doesn't say much. Because words pull results, and there were aspects of not opening your mouth - but still, even if you skipped the magician's lineage, was there something far from the way fathers and sons in the general family were?

When it comes to having a decent conversation with my father, not only do I remember talking to each other even if I have a few words in my everyday life, but I think it's about time I planted magic on myself.

Teaching witchcraft, showing mystery, quietly preaching what a mage should look like, and finally, just then, pursuing the philosophy of the Order - the proposition for which the Alliance Lord aspires - as if he remembered the fever he had left somewhere behind. I always said yes, like a cliche.

Because there's always something we want. So I want you to pursue your mystery and your potential.

If someone else listens, they'll think it's a frivolous indicator. A child who doesn't know reality dreamt that it was an extraordinary desire.

It was the same thing that I thought of myself at a young age. Always tirelessly repeating, Father preaches the philosophy of the Order. Therefore, when you asked why you went for it, you said it only once on that day, overlapping it with an unceasing vision, as you have seen in the past that you will never see again.

- He said there was a woman he wanted to protect.

It's a woman cursed by the curse of ruin. A woman who cannot bloom in the shadows or in the sun, only suited to cold rain and its spicy, wet flattery. Because of the fate that had befallen her, she was such a wretched woman who was given up by everyone that she could never die happy and was in such a nagging of misfortune that no one could even turn to her.

I was always next to my father, always crying in my father's arms. Only once did I see a heartfelt grin, and even the smile in this case was about my father.

Said he would protect her like that until the end, and that it didn't work out after all.

- I couldn't protect your mother.

Yes, my father spoke before he could not breathe. Crusade the ancient dragons that have risen to the modern age, at the end of it. Shooting out a stop to the dragon, the wound was engraved by the fact that it served as a shield.

Why did you say it now? There should have been as much else, such as opportunities. Why, why did you hide it in yourself so hard? Just keep your mouth shut all the time, even to one son.

When asked, my father answered.

He didn't want me to be in charge. A child born between an unfortunate woman and a foolish man. More like being promised to relate to the cursed. If you say so, you will undoubtedly let the same thing chase you, and you will surely follow the blocked end of your hopes like yourself.

So I never told myself, he said.

Then why did you just tell me? Has there been a change of heart that speaks such a curse? Did you let go of the commandment the thoughts that you never tried to put out in secret?

I didn't even have to say the question myself to hear the answer. For my father, before he died, was a rap without analogy. I don't usually have to compare it to anything else, and much more than when I was teaching myself witchcraft. Yes, as if that was the real curse imposed on him.

Oh, and the exhalation that I spilled was a self-derision of my father, hiding my unknown shame? Or did it just make you laugh when you realized that you were different from usual spinning a taunting word?

After the sigh, I don't think he said it, words like that.

Yes, - he said he left untrained. I don't mind this body decaying as it is, but I don't want this thought that I shared with her, this feeling that I shared with her, to be forgotten without being remembered by anyone.

Because this thought never paid off until the end. Such was the path of spiciness and bitterness, all colored thorns, but still - I only wanted my only son to remember. That there was such a man and a woman. That there was a past where those two people had been running through happy dreams for a happy future.

It was now. At a time like this, in a place like this, what the hell do you do with such thoughts? What the hell do you want me to do? There's only one thing I can say, such as the answer I can say, and that's the only one anywhere.

You can't even choose that. He's also a magician himself. Just like my father.

So - I have words that I can't leave because I've been snuggling in my ears.

"- Shuiming. I only chose magic and quiet. You are all I have left. So please, go after the philosophy of the Order. The Alliance Lord asked the reason of this world. If it is true in this world, there is no one in this world who can never be saved. So..."

- Instead of me, who couldn't save you, he asked me to save an unsaved woman.

And when I said I was so sorry for the last time, the man who dreamed of a happy future for his family was out of breath. Without asking my own answer, I told them what I had to tell them, just this time, like a really unspeakable plaster. I always thought of the peace outside the window at the end of my dreampath I had in mind, the way my family was everywhere I didn't want it to be, just without ever seeing it.

I was selfish. Forcing yourself on the path of heresy, making you go down the path of all peril, and finally preaching such, happy dreams.

So now it was.

Yes, that's why I was able to yell at the Red Dragon trying to unleash the last dragon roar.

- Your dreams come true without me. Always.

... Yes, there was such a time. There was that day when I lost my father and shouted at the impending atrocities. I never took an oath of the thought I shouted at that time as a mistake until now. So right now, I have myself here for mystery.

To go after the philosophy the Alliance Lord aspired to and prove that there is no such thing as the one who will never be saved in this world.

It smells blue. A desire that is uncertain, even contours that are only in the dark morning mist, with no shards of realism and no prospect of fulfillment. But it was a dream I wanted to fulfill. - Yes, it was a dream I wanted to make come true.

... magic, science. Whatever the discipline, it is assumed that you will reach ahead of you in unraveling all the logic of the world, Akashi Records. The philosophy of the Allies aimed at everyone's happiness that it is possible to help someone who cannot be saved if the happy future of those who were not saved is documented, even in the past, present, future and parallel worlds. Because if we can find that, I'm sure we can prove that the path we've both walked is not in vain.

So now the disclosure that makes it like an oath again is an oath.

"... father. Surely the word you left me may have been a curse that would bind my future, as you said. But I'm your son and a magician. That's why I want to see what you're after. So..."

Same as you. Go help the unsaved. Let me try to help you. In the other world, in this one.

Close your eyes and bite off the aftertaste of the words you proclaim to say. Never forget. With that thought in my chest once now and right there.

And when I opened the closed eye lid, dirty evil was spreading on one side of the plain in front of me. Yes, there's a strange sight of creatures so vicious and self-indulgent that they just nauseate to see, hissing like maggots swarming with rot, all the way to the other side in sight.

How many creatures move under the same will, just like a giant twist of one creature.

That's a funny story. I don't want to face something like this, so I'm gonna tell you I scattered it in the castle. What irony is it that we are facing each other like this here and now?

"- Hmm."

I squeal my nose and erase the self-derision that comes in. And I remembered the words Rajas had told Lephire, and he shouted from right to left.

This must be the men he brought in. How could it be such a wasteful collection? Thousand or ten thousand. It's not like I found out about the numbers, but I don't like all this amount.

Take one step, and another, to the sea where its decadence manifests itself.

Then, did you notice this one quickly? The demons are attacking us from before. The evil god who targets this world from the outer shell world with a tiger's eye, its breathtaking, it is a pioneer that can be called the end. An alien, alien creature capable of carrying a dark aura-like force that can neither be magic, nor precision, nor astral body.

"Oh -"

Oh, that sounds stupid. What is the Demon Clan? It's incompatible with humans, but it's a kind of fantasy that comes out of novels and games. Why should the modern magician fight himself with the kind of frivolity that only comes out of such creation? It sounds stupid. I have to fight the philosophy of the Order, what my father aspired to, why I have to chase that whispering dream, why I have to fight something like a demon king who will lead the world to ruin.

Yes, some awakened part of my heart looks at me now from somewhere far away, with cold eyes. - Oh, that sounds really stupid. This is ridiculous.

The devil clan gathers and strikes his fingernails at himself, sighing from the tired face of both eyes. Straight. Like a pig. If you go in there, it's like you don't know more about fighting than you do.

"Ex hoc loco evanescent,"

(disappear and go away)

Such, the flash of thunder that emitted through the demonic halves passes. All that remained were the blue magic formations that floated at your feet and the knife marks that were followed by the hand that protruded unconstitutionally. The Demons blew behind themselves with their broken arms, but did you no longer know such a thing?

Feel the spiritual chill (Psychic Cold) from behind the hedge and tilt your consciousness towards you, and you will gain strength. Are you going to spill it even with a magic imitation? As similar to the pagan divine work (Goetia) handled by the cult people, the emitted majesty of the Demonic Nation turns into a fireball.

Fireballs that are shot out without being put between them. Whatever it is, don't take it personally.

But slow. How can you say something like this is faster than a HEAT bullet being shot out of a tank cannon? Whatever you estimate, there is leisure time to activate three sorceries between formation and reaching this side.

Without a glimpse of such a flight, the fireball blushes to the side and lands in the rear.

But the explosion is also ineffective. Even if this one turns to defense, a metal jet that pierces all armor at Mach 20 speeds. If you deploy a golden defensive magic that can even prevent it, it will only disappear if you take it.

Then there is no room to pay attention to the slight blast that sears your back, etc. Now before. That's fine if you just watch it before.

Even if there are demons flying from the sky, there is no way to give way to such things.

"Crawl and fuck you"

(Et cadens in terram,)

Just a word. The demon tribe, which was cast down to the earth with words, cannot be blinded, and with his right foot, which brings his magic to its limits, he only steps forward and crushes it. Weak. He had become a threat and cautious of something like this at all, and he was doing something to make it. As long as you know how to fight, this is what you end up with. In addition to threats, pebbles don't even kick ass.

Why should I contend with such things and win?

It sounds stupid. It's a really stupid story, but it does not stop. Because I decided I did.

"I'm..."

- I decided to run through. This way.

- That's when I decided. This way.

Whether I stumbled or fell, I decided that day that I would never stop moving on.

Proof that it's never impossible to help someone you want to help. Reach Acacial Records and make it happen here correctly that my father dreamed of.

Just that, to get it done.

It's a ridiculous path, such as breaking through the middle of an army of demons. But this road we're walking on, it does lead there.

"- Archiatius overload"

(- Magic furnace, load activated)

Expands to your feet with the spell (spelling) is a rainbow brilliant Ayanagi magic formation. How is that diameter all the time? The magic formations, enclosing complex and messy character numbers that measure as many as five meters of handovers, unravel the shackles that had just been hung as they were burning through eternal times.

And the magic to be liberated. The furnace core determines the runoff while the internal combustion engine or not and dares to spin violently, so much magic that it emits lightning scatters a similar shockwave to the blast around it. As the tornado storm descended and gushed, the Devil's hedge blew heavenly high with every burst of ground.

The atmosphere screams and the earth trembles. When everything that was around you is crushed and scattered, it rises and becomes dust on the sky - excellent.

At the same time that the excess magic runoff stabilizes, the aliens that are gushing like Yunxia are attacking themselves again. As if the tip of the avalanche had exploded. Turn the snow into a spark, and the spark into a black-and-white throat, and be ahead like a pig again.

Pay a coat disturbed by a swirl of magic to fix it. The demons who stand in front of them still fill the earth less well.

In the meantime, it was my father's words that ironically regressed into my head.

"The blocked end of hope, or... Ha-ha-ha"

He shook it off with a smile before hitting it off.