18 17-2. Diablo Sith.txt (2/2)

I'm setting out on a journey to one of the brightest legends I've ever read.

A huge labyrinth that appears on the continent.

The hero who challenges it.

Meeting and parting with friends.

Looming difficulties.

The gold and silver treasures that lie ahead.

The glory that will be given.

I, who had only biased knowledge, choose the treasure chest called the labyrinth.

I didn't go on an adventure as the ”Apostle Sith” but as the ”Boy with No Name”.

That ”boy without a name” is aiming to become a swordsman.

He can't use the ”sacred magic” that took away his precious things.

He is an ordinary boy in a fairy tale.

I have a faint dream that it might allow me to start over.

I walked in a straight line to the labyrinth of the continent.

Along the way, I encountered bandits and escaped. I was tricked by a guide. The merchant who gave me a hand almost turned me into a commodity. I was almost eaten by a monster. I ran out of money and had nothing to eat.

After a long journey, we arrived in one of the labyrinthine confederacies.

The Vault.

It was an arduous journey.

Just to get there, the harshness of the world had nearly broken my heart.

''No, no or ....... I'm already .......

I remind myself.

That thing would have been broken from the beginning.

After that (...), my heart would have been necrotic, rotten and crazy.

If I wanted money and power, I had to use sacred magic, and if I wanted to protect my dreams, I didn't care about the labyrinth.

His mind had lost its sense of balance.

Foolishly, I wanted to be both.

I realize that I am a child after all.

I want all of this and all of that.

Greedy, self-centered, selfish, and above all, shallow.

In a negative cycle, my body gets stuck.

I sit down and can't stand up.

You will squat down.

I become unsure of anything.

Anxiety loosens my tear glands.

But I can't let it go.

I can't go, but I have to.

It was then.

I met a boy with dark hair and dark eyes.

A dark-haired, dark-eyed boy with a burn mark on his neck.

”Hey (...), are you awake (・・・・)?

-Oh!

I looked up as quickly as I could.

People are looking at me.

'I'm not a girl,' so I can't let them see my tears.

The silly look on my face made me feel a little better about myself.

In the white crystals flickering in my vision, I resume my fight as a boy.

Yes.

It was a cold night, with magical snow falling.

◆◆◆◆◆ ...

-- the face of Christ is the end of the runway.

Back to reality.

I'm slashed off my right arm - and finally, the monster Tida's returning blade is about to send my head flying.

''Diaaaaah--!

But the battered Christ played his blade to protect me.

The flash was sharp - like a hero I had dreamed of.

It was as if my eyes couldn't keep up with the sword and sword encounter.

It was out of place, but beautiful - and I was envious.

I try to crawl out of Christ's way to get out of his way and keep my distance, only to realize that I have one less arm to lift my body.

At the same time, I find my right arm holding a sword rolling out of the corner of my eye.

Ah, so this is the end of 'me' .......

Hahaha .......

If ”I” ended up like that, then ”I” ended up like that too. ......

I stare at the pool of blood created by the blood flowing out of my body in amazement.

I'll be dead in a few minutes.

It's natural to do that if you don't do anything about it.

That's fine.

That's fine.

But I can't ever allow Christ to die.

I was the one who forced him out of the bar where he worked as a mere clerk.

The only thing I want to do is to stop Christ from dying because of that, at all costs.

So, first of all, I was willing to give my life to save Christ.

But my life is not enough to save Christ.

It won't even save Tida's.

--I have to make a choice.

My dream is more important than my life.

It's what I've always known.

But what about Christ?

My first companion.

The first person to recognize a boy named Dia for the first time.

Someone who, even after just a few days in the hood, has given me so much.

Oh.

You mean--

Dreams are more important than life, but my friend (Christ) has become more important than my dreams?

So I begin to build the sacred magic that I had decided not to use, even in death.

The magical light that I hated like an avenger is generated from within my body.

The nostalgic magic of 'I' that I should have discarded.

I have repeated it tens of thousands of times - the sensation of sneaking in my spirit.

Sacred magic 《Theon》.

The labyrinth was filled with light compression magic.

The ”price” of this was that my vision almost went dark.

Not yet. You can't lose consciousness just yet, you need to defeat that Tida or some other monster.

You need to defeat that Tida monster or whatever it is, or it won't end.

I'm sure that although he claims to specialize in mental magic, his true value lies in his irregularly shaped body. We need to solidify that thing more like the freezing magic of Christ.

There is plenty of magic to do that.

There is a lot of sacred magic that I've cultivated since I was a child that can handle every aspect of it.

Honestly, I don't have the luxury of being able to discard magic in a calm manner.

The blood isn't circulating in the brain. If that's the case, we have to choose by feel.

The blackout of vision.

Reality is becoming distorted.

And yet, I see the enemy.

I'm going to beat it, even if it kills me.

That's all I want to do.

For the protection of Christ.

For the protection of Christ.

For the protection of Christ.

Just for that, beyond the limits of my body, magic is being built.

My dream was crushed.

But the alternative gives me the power to push beyond the limits.

That's why 'I' wanted to protect him absolutely.

With all my heart.

With my life.

I had to...

The ”over-capture protection” skill has been compromised.

In exchange for certain emotions, certain feelings are reinforced