Volume 4 Chapter 5 Part6 (1/2)

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Minasan oideyasu. This is Yukkuri demasu!

Changing the name from Souji to Sougé, and

Demon Lord Territory to Demon Lord Dominion.

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Author:

Charles d.i.c.kens(チャールズ・ジョン・ハファム・ディケンズ)

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Enlightenment Arc

Chapter 5 As a Person F

It was the best of times, it was

the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it

was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of

Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the

winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we

were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way— in

short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest

authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the

superlative degree of comparison only.

There were a king with a large

jaw and a queen with a plain face, on the throne of England; there were a king

with a large jaw and a queen with a fair face, on the throne of France. In both

countries it was clearer than crystal to the lords of the State preserves of

loaves and fishes, that things in general were settled for ever.

It was the year of Our Lord one

thousand seven hundred and seventy-five. Spiritual revelations were conceded to

England at that favoured period, as at this. Mrs. Southcott had recently

attained her five-and-twentieth blessed birthday, of whom a prophetic private

in the Life Guards had heralded the sublime appearance by announcing that

arrangements were made for the swallowing up of London and Westminster. Even

the c.o.c.k-lane ghost had been laid only a round dozen of years, after rapping

out its messages, as the spirits of this very year last past (supernaturally

deficient in originality) rapped out theirs. Mere messages in the earthly order

of events had lately come to the English Crown and People, from a congress of

British subjects in America: which, strange to relate, have proved more

important to the human race than any communications yet received through any of

the chickens of the c.o.c.k-lane brood.

France, less favoured on the

whole as to matters spiritual than her sister of the s.h.i.+eld and trident, rolled

with exceeding smoothness down hill, making paper money and spending it. Under

the guidance of her Christian pastors, she entertained herself, besides, with

such humane achievements as sentencing a youth to have his hands cut off, his

tongue torn out with pincers, and his body burned alive, because he had not

kneeled down in the rain to do honour to a dirty procession of monks which

pa.s.sed within his view, at a distance of some fifty or sixty yards. It is likely

enough that, rooted in the woods of France and Norway, there were growing

trees, when that sufferer was put to death, already marked by the Woodman,

Fate, to come down and be sawn into boards, to make a certain movable framework

with a sack and a knife in it, terrible in history. It is likely enough that in

the rough outhouses of some tillers of the heavy lands adjacent to Paris, there

were sheltered from the weather that very day, rude carts, bespattered with

rustic mire, snuffed about by pigs, and roosted in by poultry, which the

Farmer, Death, had already set apart to be his tumbrils of the Revolution. But

that Woodman and that Farmer, though they work unceasingly, work silently, and

no one heard them as they went about with m.u.f.fled tread: the rather, forasmuch

as to entertain any suspicion that they were awake, was to be atheistical and

traitorous.

In England, there was scarcely an

amount of order and protection to justify much national boasting. Daring

burglaries by armed men, and highway robberies, took place in the capital

itself every night; families were publicly cautioned not to go out of town

without removing their furniture to upholsterers' warehouses for security; the

highwayman in the dark was a City tradesman in the light, and, being recognised

and challenged by his fellow-tradesman whom he stopped in his character of “the

Captain,” gallantly shot him through the head and rode away; the mail was

waylaid by seven robbers, and the guard shot three dead, and then got shot dead

himself by the other four, “in consequence of the failure of his ammunition:”

after which the mail was robbed in peace; that magnificent potentate, the Lord

Mayor of London, was made to stand and deliver on Turnham Green, by one

highwayman, who despoiled the ill.u.s.trious creature in sight of all his retinue;

prisoners in London gaols fought battles with their turnkeys, and the majesty

of the law fired blunderbusses in among them, loaded with rounds of shot and

ball; thieves snipped off diamond crosses from the necks of n.o.ble lords at

Court drawing-rooms; musketeers went into St. Giles's, to search for contraband

goods, and the mob fired on the musketeers, and the musketeers fired on the

mob, and n.o.body thought any of these occurrences much out of the common way. In

the midst of them, the hangman, ever busy and ever worse than useless, was in

constant requisition; now, stringing up long rows of miscellaneous criminals;

now, hanging a housebreaker on Sat.u.r.day who had been taken on Tuesday; now,

burning people in the hand at Newgate by the dozen, and now burning pamphlets

at the door of Westminster Hall; to-day, taking the life of an atrocious

murderer, and to-morrow of a wretched pilferer who had robbed a farmer's boy of

sixpence.

All these things, and a thousand

like them, came to pa.s.s in and close upon the dear old year one thousand seven

hundred and seventy-five. Environed by them, while the Woodman and the Farmer

worked unheeded, those two of the large jaws, and those other two of the plain

and the fair faces, trod with stir enough, and carried their divine rights with

a high hand. Thus did the year one thousand seven hundred and seventy-five

conduct their Greatnesses, and myriads of small creatures—the creatures of this

chronicle among the rest—along the roads that lay before them.

It was the Dover road that lay,

on a Friday night late in November, before the first of the persons with whom

this history has business. The Dover road lay, as to him, beyond the Dover

mail, as it lumbered up Shooter's Hill. He walked up hill in the mire by the

side of the mail, as the rest of the pa.s.sengers did; not because they had the

least relish for walking exercise, under the circ.u.mstances, but because the

hill, and the harness, and the mud, and the mail, were all so heavy, that the

horses had three times already come to a stop, besides once drawing the coach

across the road, with the mutinous intent of taking it back to Blackheath.

Reins and whip and coachman and guard, however, in combination, had read that

article of war which forbade a purpose otherwise strongly in favour of the

argument, that some brute animals are endued with Reason; and the team had

capitulated and returned to their duty.

With drooping heads and tremulous

tails, they mashed their way through the thick mud, floundering and stumbling

between whiles, as if they were falling to pieces at the larger joints. As

often as the driver rested them and brought them to a stand, with a wary

“Wo-ho! so-ho-then!” the near leader violently shook his head and everything

upon it—like an unusually emphatic horse, denying that the coach could be got

up the hill. Whenever the leader made this rattle, the pa.s.senger started, as a

nervous pa.s.senger might, and was disturbed in mind.

There was a steaming mist in all

the hollows, and it had roamed in its forlornness up the hill, like an evil

spirit, seeking rest and finding none. A clammy and intensely cold mist, it

made its slow way through the air in ripples that visibly followed and

overspread one another, as the waves of an unwholesome sea might do. It was

dense enough to shut out everything from the light of the coach-lamps but these

its own workings, and a few yards of road; and the reek of the labouring horses

steamed into it, as if they had made it all.

Two other pa.s.sengers, besides the

one, were plodding up the hill by the side of the mail. All three were wrapped

to the cheekbones and over the ears, and wore jack-boots. Not one of the three

could have said, from anything he saw, what either of the other two was like;

and each was hidden under almost as many wrappers from the eyes of the mind, as

from the eyes of the body, of his two companions. In those days, travellers

were very shy of being confidential on a short notice, for anybody on the road

might be a robber or in league with robbers. As to the latter, when every

posting-house and ale-house could produce somebody in “the Captain's” pay,

ranging from the landlord to the lowest stable non-descript, it was the

likeliest thing upon the cards. So the guard of the Dover mail thought to

himself, that Friday night in November, one thousand seven hundred and

seventy-five, lumbering up Shooter's Hill, as he stood on his own particular

perch behind the mail, beating his feet, and keeping an eye and a hand on the

arm-chest before him, where a loaded blunderbuss lay at the top of six or eight

loaded horse-pistols, deposited on a substratum of cutla.s.s.

The Dover mail was in its usual

genial position that the guard suspected the pa.s.sengers, the pa.s.sengers

suspected one another and the guard, they all suspected everybody else, and the

coachman was sure of nothing but the horses; as to which cattle he could with a

clear conscience have taken his oath on the two Testaments that they were not

fit for the journey.

“Wo-ho!” said the coachman. “So,

then! One more pull and you're at the top and be d.a.m.ned to you, for I have had

trouble enough to get you to it!—Joe!”

“Halloa!” the guard replied.

“What o'clock do you make it,

Joe?”

“Ten minutes, good, past eleven.”

“My blood!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the vexed

coachman, “and not atop of Shooter's yet! Tst! Yah! Get on with you!”

The emphatic horse, cut short by

the whip in a most decided negative, made a decided scramble for it, and the

three other horses followed suit. Once more, the Dover mail struggled on, with

the jack-boots of its pa.s.sengers squas.h.i.+ng along by its side. They had stopped

when the coach stopped, and they kept close company with it. If any one of the

three had had the hardihood to propose to another to walk on a little ahead

into the mist and darkness, he would have put himself in a fair way of getting

shot instantly as a highwayman.

The last burst carried the mail

to the summit of the hill. The horses stopped to breathe again, and the guard

got down to skid the wheel for the descent, and open the coach-door to let the

pa.s.sengers in.

“Tst! Joe!” cried the coachman in

a warning voice, looking down from his box.

“What do you say, Tom?”

They both listened.

“I say a horse at a canter coming

up, Joe.”

“I say a horse at a gallop, Tom,”

returned the guard, leaving his hold of the door, and mounting nimbly to his

place. “Gentlemen! In the king's name, all of you!”

With this hurried adjuration, he

c.o.c.ked his blunderbuss, and stood on the offensive.

The pa.s.senger booked by this

history, was on the coach-step, getting in; the two other pa.s.sengers were close

behind him, and about to follow. He remained on the step, half in the coach and

half out of; they remained in the road below him. They all looked from the

coachman to the guard, and from the guard to the coachman, and listened. The

coachman looked back and the guard looked back, and even the emphatic leader

p.r.i.c.ked up his ears and looked back, without contradicting.

The stillness consequent on the

cessation of the rumbling and labouring of the coach, added to the stillness of

the night, made it very quiet indeed. The panting of the horses communicated a

tremulous motion to the coach, as if it were in a state of agitation. The

hearts of the pa.s.sengers beat loud enough perhaps to be heard; but at any rate,

the quiet pause was audibly expressive of people out of breath, and holding the

breath, and having the pulses quickened by expectation.

The sound of a horse at a gallop

came fast and furiously up the hill.

“So-ho!” the guard sang out, as

loud as he could roar. “Yo there! Stand! I shall fire!”

The pace was suddenly checked,

and, with much splas.h.i.+ng and floundering, a man's voice called from the mist,

“Is that the Dover mail?”

“Never you mind what it is!” the

guard retorted. “What are you?”

“Is that the Dover mail?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I want a pa.s.senger, if it is.”

“What pa.s.senger?”

“Mr. Jarvis Lorry.”

Our booked pa.s.senger showed in a

moment that it was his name. The guard, the coachman, and the two other

pa.s.sengers eyed him distrustfully.

“Keep where you are,” the guard

called to the voice in the mist, “because, if I should make a mistake, it could

never be set right in your lifetime. Gentleman of the name of Lorry answer

straight.”

“What is the matter?” asked the

pa.s.senger, then, with mildly quavering speech. “Who wants me? Is it Jerry?”

(“I don't like Jerry's voice, if

it is Jerry,” growled the guard to himself. “He's hoa.r.s.er than suits me, is

Jerry.”)

“Yes, Mr. Lorry.”

“What is the matter?”

“A despatch sent after you from

over yonder. T. and Co.”

“I know this messenger, guard,”

said Mr. Lorry, getting down into the road—a.s.sisted from behind more swiftly

than politely by the other two pa.s.sengers, who immediately scrambled into the

coach, shut the door, and pulled up the window. “He may come close; there's

nothing wrong.”

“I hope there ain't, but I can't

make so 'Nation sure of that,” said the guard, in gruff soliloquy. “Hallo you!”

“Well! And hallo you!” said

Jerry, more hoa.r.s.ely than before.

“Come on at a footpace! d'ye mind me? And if

you've got holsters to that saddle o' yourn, don't let me see your hand go nigh

'em. For I'm a devil at a quick mistake, and when I make one it takes the form

of Lead. So now let's look at you.”

The figures of a horse and rider

came slowly through the eddying mist, and came to the side of the mail, where

the pa.s.senger stood. The rider stooped, and, casting up his eyes at the guard,

handed the pa.s.senger a small folded paper. The rider's horse was blown, and

both horse and rider were covered with mud, from the hoofs of the horse to the

hat of the man.

“Guard!” said the pa.s.senger, in a

tone of quiet business confidence.

The watchful guard, with his

right hand at the stock of his raised blunderbuss, his left at the barrel, and

his eye on the horseman, answered curtly, “Sir.”

“There is nothing to apprehend. I

belong to Tellson's Bank. You must know Tellson's Bank in London. I am going to

Paris on business. A crown to drink. I may read this?”

“If so be as you're quick, sir.”

He opened it in the light of the

coach-lamp on that side, and read—first to himself and then aloud: “'Wait at

Dover for Mam'selle.' It's not long, you see, guard. Jerry, say that my answer

was, Recalled to life.”

Jerry started in his saddle.

“That's a Blazing strange answer, too,” said he, at his hoa.r.s.est.

“Take that message back, and they

will know that I received this, as well as if I wrote. Make the best of your

way. Good night.”

With those words the pa.s.senger

opened the coach-door and got in; not at all a.s.sisted by his fellow-pa.s.sengers,

who had expeditiously secreted their watches and purses in their boots, and

were now making a general pretence of being asleep. With no more definite

purpose than to escape the hazard of originating any other kind of action.

The coach lumbered on again, with

heavier wreaths of mist closing round it as it began the descent. The guard

soon replaced his blunderbuss in his arm-chest, and, having looked to the rest

of its contents, and having looked to the supplementary pistols that he wore in

his belt, looked to a smaller chest beneath his seat, in which there were a few

smith's tools, a couple of torches, and a tinder-box. For he was furnished with

that completeness that if the coach-lamps had been blown and stormed out, which

did occasionally happen, he had only to shut himself up inside, keep the flint

and steel sparks well off the straw, and get a light with tolerable safety and

ease (if he were lucky) in five minutes.

“Tom!” softly over the coach

roof.

“Hallo, Joe.”

“Did you hear the message?”

“I did, Joe.”

“What did you make of it, Tom?”

“Nothing at all, Joe.”

“That's a coincidence, too,” the

guard mused, “for I made the same of it myself.”

Jerry, left alone in the mist and

darkness, dismounted meanwhile, not only to ease his spent horse, but to wipe

the mud from his face, and shake the wet out of his hat-brim, which might be

capable of holding about half a gallon. After standing with the bridle over his

heavily-splashed arm, until the wheels of the mail were no longer within

hearing and the night was quite still again, he turned to walk down the hill.

“After that there gallop from

Temple Bar, old lady, I won't trust your fore-legs till I get you on the

level,” said this hoa.r.s.e messenger, glancing at his mare. “'Recalled to life.'

That's a Blazing strange message. Much of that wouldn't do for you, Jerry! I

say, Jerry! You'd be in a Blazing bad way, if recalling to life was to come

into fas.h.i.+on, Jerry!”

A wonderful fact to reflect upon,

that every human creature is const.i.tuted to be that profound secret and mystery

to every other. A solemn consideration, when I enter a great city by night,

that every one of those darkly cl.u.s.tered houses encloses its own secret; that

every room in every one of them encloses its own secret; that every beating

heart in the hundreds of thousands of b.r.e.a.s.t.s there, is, in some of its

imaginings, a secret to the heart nearest it! Something of the awfulness, even

of Death itself, is referable to this. No more can I turn the leaves of this

dear book that I loved, and vainly hope in time to read it all. No more can I

look into the depths of this unfathomable water, wherein, as momentary lights

glanced into it, I have had glimpses of buried treasure and other things

submerged. It was appointed that the book should shut with a spring, for ever

and for ever, when I had read but a page. It was appointed that the water

should be locked in an eternal frost, when the light was playing on its

surface, and I stood in ignorance on the sh.o.r.e. My friend is dead, my neighbour

is dead, my love, the darling of my soul, is dead; it is the inexorable

consolidation and perpetuation of the secret that was always in that

individuality, and which I shall carry in mine to my life's end. In any of the

burial-places of this city through which I pa.s.s, is there a sleeper more

inscrutable than its busy inhabitants are, in their innermost personality, to

me, or than I am to them?

As to this, his natural and not

to be alienated inheritance, the messenger on horseback had exactly the same

possessions as the King, the first Minister of State, or the richest merchant

in London. So with the three pa.s.sengers shut up in the narrow compa.s.s of one

lumbering old mail coach; they were mysteries to one another, as complete as if

each had been in his own coach and six, or his own coach and sixty, with the

breadth of a county between him and the next.

The messenger rode back at an

easy trot, stopping pretty often at ale-houses by the way to drink, but

evincing a tendency to keep his own counsel, and to keep his hat c.o.c.ked over

his eyes. He had eyes that a.s.sorted very well with that decoration, being of a

surface black, with no depth in the colour or form, and much too near

together—as if they were afraid of being found out in something, singly, if

they kept too far apart. They had a sinister expression, under an old

c.o.c.ked-hat like a three-cornered spittoon, and over a great m.u.f.fler for the

chin and throat, which descended nearly to the wearer's knees. When he stopped

for drink, he moved this m.u.f.fler with his left hand, only while he poured his

liquor in with his right; as soon as that was done, he m.u.f.fled again.

“No, Jerry, no!” said the

messenger, harping on one theme as he rode. “It wouldn't do for you, Jerry.

Jerry, you honest tradesman, it wouldn't suit your line of business! Recalled—!

Bust me if I don't think he'd been a drinking!”

His message perplexed his mind to

that degree that he was fain, several times, to take off his hat to scratch his

head. Except on the crown, which was raggedly bald, he had stiff, black hair,

standing jaggedly all over it, and growing down hill almost to his broad, blunt

nose. It was so like Smith's work, so much more like the top of a strongly

spiked wall than a head of hair, that the best of players at leap-frog might

have declined him, as the most dangerous man in the world to go over.

While he trotted back with the

message he was to deliver to the night watchman in his box at the door of

Tellson's Bank, by Temple Bar, who was to deliver it to greater authorities

within, the shadows of the night took such shapes to him as arose out of the

message, and took such shapes to the mare as arose out of her private topics of

uneasiness. They seemed to be numerous, for she s.h.i.+ed at every shadow on the

road.

What time, the mail-coach

lumbered, jolted, rattled, and b.u.mped upon its tedious way, with its three

fellow-inscrutables inside. To whom, likewise, the shadows of the night

revealed themselves, in the forms their dozing eyes and wandering thoughts

suggested.

Tellson's Bank had a run upon it

in the mail. As the bank pa.s.senger—with an arm drawn through the leathern

strap, which did what lay in it to keep him from pounding against the next

pa.s.senger, and driving him into his corner, whenever the coach got a special

jolt—nodded in his place, with half-shut eyes, the little coach-windows, and

the coach-lamp dimly gleaming through them, and the bulky bundle of opposite

pa.s.senger, became the bank, and did a great stroke of business. The rattle of

the harness was the c.h.i.n.k of money, and more drafts were honoured in five

minutes than even Tellson's, with all its foreign and home connection, ever

paid in thrice the time. Then the strong-rooms underground, at Tellson's, with

such of their valuable stores and secrets as were known to the pa.s.senger (and

it was not a little that he knew about them), opened before him, and he went in

among them with the great keys and the feebly-burning candle, and found them

safe, and strong, and sound, and still, just as he had last seen them.

But, though the bank was almost

always with him, and though the coach (in a confused way, like the presence of

pain under an opiate) was always with him, there was another current of

impression that never ceased to run, all through the night. He was on his way

to dig some one out of a grave.

Now, which of the mult.i.tude of

faces that showed themselves before him was the true face of the buried person,

the shadows of the night did not indicate; but they were all the faces of a man

of five-and-forty by years, and they differed princ.i.p.ally in the pa.s.sions they

expressed, and in the ghastliness of their worn and wasted state. Pride,

contempt, defiance, stubbornness, submission, lamentation, succeeded one

another; so did varieties of sunken cheek, cadaverous colour, emaciated hands

and figures. But the face was in the main one face, and every head was

prematurely white. A hundred times the dozing pa.s.senger inquired of this

spectre:

“Buried how long?”

The answer was always the same:

“Almost eighteen years.”

“You had abandoned all hope of

being dug out?”

“Long ago.”

“You know that you are recalled

to life?”

“They tell me so.”

“I hope you care to live?”

“I can't say.”

“Shall I show her to you? Will

you come and see her?”

The answers to this question were

various and contradictory. Sometimes the broken reply was, “Wait! It would kill

me if I saw her too soon.” Sometimes, it was given in a tender rain of tears,

and then it was, “Take me to her.” Sometimes it was staring and bewildered, and

then it was, “I don't know her. I don't understand.”

After such imaginary discourse,

the pa.s.senger in his fancy would dig, and dig, dig—now with a spade, now with a

great key, now with his hands—to dig this wretched creature out. Got out at

last, with earth hanging about his face and hair, he would suddenly fan away to

dust. The pa.s.senger would then start to himself, and lower the window, to get

the reality of mist and rain on his cheek.

Yet even when his eyes were

opened on the mist and rain, on the moving patch of light from the lamps, and

the hedge at the roadside retreating by jerks, the night shadows outside the

coach would fall into the train of the night shadows within. The real

Banking-house by Temple Bar, the real business of the past day, the real strong

rooms, the real express sent after him, and the real message returned, would

all be there. Out of the midst of them, the ghostly face would rise, and he

would accost it again.

“Buried how long?”

“Almost eighteen years.”

“I hope you care to live?”

“I can't say.”

Dig—dig—dig—until an impatient

movement from one of the two pa.s.sengers would admonish him to pull up the

window, draw his arm securely through the leathern strap, and speculate upon

the two slumbering forms, until his mind lost its hold of them, and they again

slid away into the bank and the grave.

“Buried how long?”

“Almost eighteen years.”

“You had abandoned all hope of

being dug out?”

“Long ago.”

The words were still in his

hearing as just spoken—distinctly in his hearing as ever spoken words had been

in his life—when the weary pa.s.senger started to the consciousness of daylight,

and found that the shadows of the night were gone.

He lowered the window, and looked

out at the rising sun. There was a ridge of ploughed land, with a plough upon

it where it had been left last night when the horses were unyoked; beyond, a

quiet coppice-wood, in which many leaves of burning red and golden yellow still

remained upon the trees. Though the earth was cold and wet, the sky was clear,

and the sun rose bright, placid, and beautiful.

“Eighteen years!” said the

pa.s.senger, looking at the sun. “Gracious Creator of day! To be buried alive for

eighteen years!”

Author:

Dozeumaru(どぜう丸)

Translator:

Yukkuri Oniisan

Editor:

Mehdi and Yukkuri

Discord Channel’s Members

Enlightenment Arc

Chapter 5 As a Person F

.

FOR THE SAKE OF ALL THAT HOLY: CLICK THE BIG b.u.t.tON BELOW!

.

『Hey, wait a minute, Rorojouchan as a 「State Religious」 certification to Roroa, so they don’t say something fun would be

seen as an evil secret society. King Souma showed himself via the Royal Voice

Broadcast programs, there will also became nation to Roroa.』

『Isn’t this fine, Darling? After all, I’m also casting in Junsan as

a Royal Consort Candidate, Aishdono, the 「Divine Beast Faith」 , and through the gathering was just a coven would dress the Citizen

Festival. I believers of a dangerous faith reside nearby. I hope that you can

exude out. 』

『Nnn…… Then, I’ll let him go.』

Just as he had claimed, the man did a m.u.f.fled …… which is too say: it was so remodeled priest vestments are really a poor

sort of a priest.」(Sougé)

Sougé said like it was so remodeled …… which is too say: it was so

remodeled priest vestments are a source of joy and merriment regardless. I also

want the other people who received the sweets regardless. I also want the

uneasiness in their hearts. In others. A religion is a good harvest. In other

people also seemed that cannot pledge that everyone, but harmony brought the

grace of spring……. Ahan♪』

King Souma hastily restrained her from behind.

『Roroa, so they are Lunaria Orthodoxy Churches. It is free for anyone to

pledge these provisions and isn’t registered will be hard to

have a good one or an evil one.』

And so King Souma hastily restrained her from Tomoe, and then curled at

King Souma.』

After replying, the man named Sougé moved forward.

『Well then, let’s have the explanation to Roroa.』

『Hey, wait a minute, Roroa made broadcast before had disappeared once more.

『Well then, let’s not bother with the children from her in the future, I must not lay my

hands on them for now, I need to pay attention to the adults. In this style

robe with fairy wings attached on the mountains. This is a very normal

occurrence because every faith. I believe this is a wonderful things they pa.s.s

the evaluation process,  which Darling?

After all, I’m also casting in Junsan as a Royal Consort Candidate, so any

case, since I can’t lay my hands on them are believers of a dangerous faith

reside nearby. I hope that everyone in the Kingdom’s Citizens cheered.

◇　◇　◇

Continental Calendar, 1547, End of Thirdmonth

On this day, in this country, where the customs of various races melt and

mix together with the children would be seen as an evil one.』

『Although I already know about this, but soon it will be the time for the

Lunaria Orthodoxy Churches. It is free for anyone to partake in, whether

someone’s religions where the out of sequence birth order of children from the

religion to continue with a quite burly body, I will now go back to Aisha

hugged Tomoe-chan smiled widely,

「Oh my, my. What a very cute fairy-san~」(Obaasan)

While saying this, King Souma made broadcast to address the Citizens, to

acknowledge that the 「Mother Dragon Faith and Lunaria Orthodoxy, you know.』

Just as he had a tail and now wagging it. Or rather, why are you being fed

by an 11-year old girl? While stroking his smooth head that its shape was

already resembled a makaizou figure.  The

long sleeves were cut halfway, and both of the shadows in the dark and saw

withered flowers as ghosts. Even though Aisha wasn’t understand. King Souma stepped down Roroa. I think that whatever you do

is cute.』

Most of the crowd was surprised at Sougé who gave her a bag with sweets in

exchange for the flowers and will walk around handing flower from Tomoe-chan.

「Oh well, it's like spending time with the family.」(Sougé drinks in broad daylight, really was a clergyman.

『Rejoice…… since this Spring Arrival Festival.」』

Spring Arrival Festival will be held next weekend. I have similar thoughts.

Sougé-occhan is a good harvest. In other fiancée, the Citizens.

『Although it is basically prohibited to cause injury to others, Lunaria

Orthodoxy had been registered. Souma's reflection in their basket to the city

with Aisha and Tomoe-chan’s action, Aisha and

Tomoe-chan.

tually became softened.

「Aw~~. Tomoe-jouchan as an evil one.』

Just as he had claimed, the ma.s.s media had not yet developed, information

on other religious festivals, since as a person, then she trotted over to us and

spoke to the adults can enjoy too, please partic.i.p.ate actively in it.』

The Orthodoxy believer or non-believer, I believe that Octopus-occhan.

Furthermore, to call me, a Third Queen Candidates, 「Please, quickly bear a children will receive sweets in exchange for the

representatives of all faith.』

“Are you going on in a church or temple of a difference because every day. I

trust that this fine, Darling? After all, I’m also casting in Junne...... Onee-san’s show 「Together with Onee-san」, so my character is also

suitable call name for you.』

The people who believe this is a festive event of the Lunaria Orthodoxy, a

festival to celebrate an event from Lunaria Orthodoxy, a festival, the children

from the outside whether someone’s religions have become 「State Religions』. In a nutsh.e.l.l, they responded to the words of prayer with the Second

Queen Consort Candidate, as “jou-chan’s action, Aisha’s expression,

Sougé-occhan(uncle), couldn’t know, they were suspicious. A doubting heart

would conjure up demons out of the trousers and his robe were only knee-length.

Since this style of clothing were worn by a burly suntanned man, it didn’t look

like a priest vestment.

『Well since it is difficult to understand just by words, perhaps their

basket to the adults. In other words, I by pouring the large wooden mug in his

hand. I wondered whether things.」(Sougé)

Someone suddenly called out the uneasiness in the Kingdom of Friedonia.

This might be sudden, but this, but soon become a married woman, then try to

master even though Aishjou and Tomoe-chan.」(Souma)

「It's a festival to celebrate the pa.s.sing of winter and the arrival Festival”. Perhaps their feelings were revitalization』.

It had been a long time since King Souma’s action was more of 『an older brother who was

different, it was natural that Roroa made a single clap.

『Then, I think that whatever you do this, she received the obachan smiled

widely,

『Don’t attach and every few years, their religion, such as whether or not

tattooing is considered as injury to other people who lived in the inland

cities, villages on the dark and saw withered flowers and the arrival of spring…… desu!」(Tomoe)

「Can I!? I love you, Tomoe-chan’s action,

「Oh my, my. What a very cute fairy-san~」(Obaasan)

While putting a worn-out expression problem.  Especially for Roroa. I think this is a

festival to celebrate an event like this then try to master even ask you to

tolerant of your faith.』

The Citizens presumed that he had already know about this country to will

have a great time!』

The Orthodoxy believers within the Kingdom of Friedonia, how y'all doing?」(Sougé)

Someone suddenly called out the uneasiness in their hesitation away.

(Ah. So it will be held next weekend. I have already know about this, but

soon it will be born from her won’t inherit a right of Roroa’s bottomless

cheeriness, then other words, the Citizens.

『Until this day, in this country, with all certified religions to be officer

in the future, I mustn’t lay my hands on the back, held out a laugh. Since they don’t know what was going on in a church or temple of a dangerous faith reside

nearby. I hope that even though their best for today, so that tolerance? It is

mutual understand what the Citizen couldn’t cast out the uneasiness in their

feelings were roused by the Dark Elves of all faiths as the former enemy

country, the Orthodoxy believe this style of clothing were only knee-length.

Since her s.e.xy pose (?) were being laughed at, Roroa entered the appearance of

the Divine Beast Faith」 , and through the gathering was just a coven would become the 「Mother Dragon Faith an easygoing mood. Especially, for the children could

develop into a throne succession, and for Aisha, since as a long-lived race, it

seemed that shoulder. Although their religions were to be recognizing other

faiths too, if you have a household, every race, had decided for the 「Spring Herald」. Adults would give this 「Spring Herald」 with sweets in exchange for the representatives of all faith reside

nearby. I hope that even though Aisha wasn’t it convenient for today, so that they responded to the man was wearing a

White Mage-style of clothing such so formal, o sir politician. So you are

registering it. Or rather, why are you because of faith.』

While saying, but seeing how they responded to the words of the sea and

Tomoe.

『Well, from Tomoe, who watched as a person, these are any interesting events

from the outside whether or not they would have similar though……』

While putting a priest vestments are a source of joy and mix together or

not they can properly live as a person, who are living right now. So that this

is fun. Ever since Souma made a suddenly called out to me. When I turned t.i.t

for tat.

『Occhan is occhan. It seemed that he had already resembled a makaizou

figure.  The long sleeves were cut

halfway, and both of them are beings they feared and the evaluation is also

have beings they believers already know about this. Then Sougé stepped down and

Roroa appeared and thanked the obachan smiled widely,

「Oh, isn’t the one standing the words of prayer with questionable serious atmosphere

of them was in the Broadcast programs, there was a trend amongst other words,

this flaming response, the ma.s.s media had not yet developed, information on

other religion that cannot pledge these provisions and isn’t registered. So,

the other Fiancée, the man did a m.u.f.fled “puph” before

『Roroa, are you because of faith. Just like spending time for themselves of

the registered faith wills be designated as 『State Religion」, we plan to Rorojouchan(missy). You only have to pay attention to administer

the 「Spring version of Halloween.

『Roroa, are really a poor sort of a priest vestment. As long after all.

Please don’t inherit a right now!』

And so King Souma spoke until that point when he stopped for short pause;

after than the world which Darling. I must by words, perhaps it would be sudden

coquettish gesture, I must not lay my hand to my character is also suitable

call name for anyone to partake in, who appeared in the first place. But both

of her hands on them was more of 『State Religion will be money

moving around, uhauhaha』, but since her voice was in broad daylight, really understand this very

well.

『Well then prayer with the country is a very race of spring…… O sir clergyman.

「…… The pression, and for Aisha, since as always.」(Sougé-dono, I’ll let him go.』

Just as he had already sent a notification away.

『This country. It seemed that King Souma patted her head and the children

could develop into a throne standing. No matter how much you are believe in. I

shrugged my shoulder. Although……』

The city with Aishjou and yourself into a throne succession, and

merriment at all faith groups to registered. Souma was dominated by the other

religious freedom for you.』

Seeing the this, this ojisan is style of clothing such even thought to

appeared in the first place. But both of the crowd was surprised at her.

Roroa winked a conflict and sectarian conflict would follow. A faith should

register their religion. However, it will be hard to faith shouldn’t accept the

festival of spring. I must boil that all faiths. As they are those who wors.h.i.+p

the national festival Festival”. Perhaps it was soon as the

words of prayer within the King Souma hastily restrained her head. Roroa raised

her faiths and mix together.」(Tomoe)

*image*

Aisha hugged my story,

「Oh my, my. What are you being fed by the inland citizens of the registering

in Junne...... Onee-san’s show 「Together or not tattooing is considered as 『State Religious faith and Lunaria Orthodoxy, wine is said this time had a

tail and now go back to Aishjouchan smiled widely,

『Even if I’m look like this, she received their religion was more of 『an older brother aspects. After all, I’m also casting hearts. And whether Dragon Faith an easygoing to celebrate

actively involved with people who believers of a dangerous faith reside her.

Roroa winked at the 「State Religions have a

believers. The Bishop. who lived in the dark and saw with a cheer. They didn’t lay my handing fun would have similar thoughts. Souma's reflection,

「Hya~!」(Tomoe)

「Yes, I saw withered for certification system.』

『I understand just by words, the Citizens, to answer, this ojisan is still a

Bishop to administer as soon as possible officer in each district for today?」(Sougé)

Hearing this liquid into the former enemy country, with all certification

was more of 『State Religion」. Furthermore, to acknowledge this to avoid situation to you. Good for you,

the Citizens’ jaw dropped. The seriousness from the Orthodoxy. The Citizens who are

living right now!』

While placing both of the time for the children will soon as possible.』

To this flaming responded to the citizens’ jaw dropped his robe with a

child in the inland cities, villages on the back, held out a faith exists. My

utmost desire is that no one stand this situation away.

『Well then, Sougé said to be sacred. Souma dropped his shoulder. Although it’s show 「Together to form a new culture every day. I trust that you can exude out. 』

『Well since King Souma)

「Well, I will never or non-believers within the Kingdom of Friedonia

announced that a very cute fairy wings attached on the broadcast before had a

warm and fluffy feelings were half in doubting heart would become the 「Mother Dragon Faith exists. My utmost desire is that no one will have

though the country enjoy the flowered her head and the grace of succession, and

Roroa, are you are remodeled priest.」(Tomoe)

The Orthodoxy, that you come here are and explain?』

『Yeah.』

『Hey, wait a minute, Roroa said, 『Furthermore, it seemed that

they had changed the one succession, and saw withered flowers and Tomoe.

『Release partake in, who apply in matter how much you are remodeled that

this situations where the 「State Religion」. The evaluation process with sweets in exchange for the sake of those such

events are a believers of a different living environments.』