167 The sound of the bell. (1/2)

In the darkness, where the sunlight had completely obscured him, Fialaat was alone, his eyes wide open, the light green light glimmering. He felt his teeth chattering unconsciously.

If this world is really such a trivial one, where there is no point in reaching out for help, but only in clasping one's hands in prayer to God for happiness. There is no need to recite the truth any longer. He will not voluntarily take a minor role in an uninteresting script.

And most of all, I can't stand the thought of him being forced to dance on such a trivial stage. His dark hair waved in the air.

I don't like it. I don't like the idea of reaching out, reaching out with my fingers, only to die in a pool of blood. So I'm gonna--

--I'm going to make a hero out of you, that's what I thought.

That was the moment when the voice that escaped from Fialaat's lips took to the air.

In the darkness, the dull silver of the spear neighed fiercely as it extended its fangs into Fialaat's flesh. The squire who was supposed to be standing by Mordor's side ran down the corridor, hissing savagely.

It seemed that his spirit had reached its limit. His teeth were clenched so hard you could see them, and his eyes were completely bloodshot. Then his eyes spoke to Fialaat.

You're crazy. You're not walking the right path.

Fialaat could not help but smile at the look in his eyes. You're pointing a weapon at yourself and you're still crazy.

What a rude, impolite look. You don't understand anything. You don't understand anything. I'm not crazy. There's something wrong with all of us.

I've never thought of myself as special, or anyone as abnormal. Have you ever loved or hated someone? Or maybe you've never felt any of those emotions at all, and just went through your days not knowing what you were living for. Yes, to me, all of them are strange.

And yet, they all cover their faces with the skin of reason. They're smiling like they're sane. In the end, they don't know which is themselves, reason or instinct, and they point to others and say, ”You are crazy. You are crazy. I am sane.

Now, what in the world does he mean by ”sane”? That's the craziest thing of all. Fialat's cheek twisted.

The tip of a spear pierces the sky, biting through Fialat's belly. Straight through, with a force that split the wind. The thrust was unmistakably that of a trained man. A flash that Fialaat, who was probably only a sorcerer, would have been unable to avoid.

The light green light that covered Fialaat's body almost frightened him, and the tip of the spear engaged as if they wanted to.

Instantly, a deafening sound rushed silently through the darkness. That was the only sound that could be heard.

I didn't want to eat it, I didn't want to attack it. So you can just run away. I'm sure Lugis will still come here.

Her hair, still black and shiny, waved in the air. The squire's body was lying prostrate on the floor with his spear at the ready. Unable to thrust his spear at the sorcerer in front of him, or even to confront him properly, he fell to the ground. The light green magic slowly licked away at his body.

One more thing. Phialat's organs let his skull know that the magic has filled his belly. But it's not enough. No, the more, the better the magic.

Fialaat didn't like this kind of thinking, like those who think that the number of gold coins represents a person, but not this time. After all, this magic power is for him, for Lugis. The mere thought of it makes me think that Fialaat will never have enough of it.

I'm not sure if this is a good idea or not.