Sword Whisperer

'Why is the Ghost Squad here...'

The cloth frowned. It was unusual. The Ghost is the one who is most faithful to my 'One'. If those guys move organized, that's usually one of them. have the same one or…….

No matter how far it was outside the border, no matter how dense the forest was, the light of the lighthouse was still in the sky.

It wasn't a place for the Ghost Corps. They loved the darkness, and they hated even the light. Nevertheless, what does it mean to be here?

'It's no coincidence.'

[Is it the cloak of the Academy..... I miss it.]

Before I finished thinking, I heard a frightening voice. He was a gentleman in an eastern saqaman corrosion suit. The face of the cloth hardened. It was a clean voice. Unbelievably, it had a clear echo.

'That's creepy.'

I felt like my soul was getting cloudy just by listening. The cloth used to bite his lips and open his mouth.

".... Did you reveal yourself knowing who we are? ''

[Sigh...] I don't have to pretend to be strong. You and I can't see each other's insides too much.]

"It's hard to think we'll be as weak as a child. ''

The cloth twitched its spear while saying so. There was no need to worry about a raid beyond the foreseeable limits. In the Battle of the House of Iser, the Grand Duke was originally the one who could always see a farther future.

The ghost laughed.

[Come on. Come on. This is the name of the ten great families. You've always been mistaken for the future.]

"I've never had a future. I'm just picking.”

[It's arrogant to think you can choose. Look at the future you have chosen. Look at this north. If a young child, a craftsman who has devoted his entire life to baking bread, could find just one more unknown flower in the world, all the scholars who said it was good were locked up at night.]

"..... You must say that we destroyed the North. It's just that you've always been an art philosopher, and you've been hit by a bunch of nocturnal seeds. The damage ritual is sick by then. If the spirit of a ghost is healthy, how healthy will it be? ”

[2. Indeed, you are ignorant. You're so ignorant.]

The ghost shakes his head. A deep tear appeared above the gray skin that did not even wrinkle. The ghost murmurs loudly.

[That ignorance will kill you today.]

It was the moment that the words ended. The window of cloth flashed. It was fast enough not to be seen. The spear that bent over the body of the ghost that had been speaking before him created a vortex that swallowed up the ground and turned the four spirits into ashes.

That was the way it was.

'Strong...! ’

The cloth grinds his teeth. The whirlpool he created was torn apart as soon as he touched the Ghost Sword. Even the third and fourth grade seniors couldn't get rid of him that easily.

That meant that he was a minimum professor of strength.

The cloth shrieks and shouts.

"The front is headed by Hay and Serifa. McDead and Lungill take the side, Hezleck and Milot take the rear. No, Van, you help me find where I need help. Move it!"

In the second grade, it was a serifa of cloth and hey, and a stone fist.

Not in first grade, Lungil, McDead, Van, Hezleck, and Millet.

On the other hand, the Ghost Corps, whether crowded or not, was thirty years old.

'We have to hold on.'

The cloth shoots white briquettes into the sky. Until support comes…… perhaps half an hour.

Although he would stand on the same timeline as them, his eyes were looking to the future a little later. I thought it would be impossible, but not impossible, to survive without casualties until reinforcements help him in advance of a crisis.

And, Cloth realized that was quite a challenge.

In the future he saw, McDead died five times and Hezleck twice. Millet is dug into the hands of the ghosts and dies, and Lungil is crushed by the decent Ghost Captain, then his knife is cut off without resisting at once.

The only thing you can fight without his help is Van and Anya in first grade.

'Huff, huff... "

"Are you okay?”

"It's okay, ah..."

The cloth had no body at all. The body also cannot rest while raising its foresight to its maximum. Living in two time zones at the same time was not usually a burden. So this is why the family didn't stand in the whole war....

When the hell is the backup coming? '

No matter how forward-looking, the support has not arrived. The same was true of looking to the far future beyond the line he had set.

And it was then.

Anya sighed.

”That's ridiculous..."

No one was injured yet. Nevertheless, they were forced to feel the horror they had never felt before.

The light of white coal was illuminating the sky.

Not just their white coal, but dozens of lights... illuminating all the skies of the border.

And the ghost shakes its head with a horrible laugh.

[I thought it would be that easy. I thought the North Koreans were too light. You thought it would be over decades ago.]

[No.]

[Our Han has not yet been released.]

[Until the day the kingdom is gone, it will not be released.]

"........"

Cloth loved horses. I didn't know what the hell was going on under that light. Maybe the light itself is fake. The other Joes may be doing things quite smoothly than they thought.

Ghost Captain said.

[However, no matter how complex the maze, there must be an exit.]

[I myself will give you my last hope.]

[Give up the clan of Lighthouse Keepers.]

[Then you will be able to go back without more sacrifice.]

"Was it me who was after you...? ''

Anya asked in a trembling voice. I would be lying if I had not been born the daughter of the Nine Great Gates and been abducted once before. But a ghost who wants to kidnap her. This is a bad joke, even if the quality is too bad.

The Ghost Captain laughs. As if he understands everything, he looks at a cloth that is not easy to talk about.

Even so, the Ghost Captain has never participated in a proper offensive before.

'Can we win?'

The cloth lifted his foresight. And I bit my lips. Despite dozens, hundreds of ways to challenge him..... the conclusion came when the Ghost General pulled out the sword was defeated.

Hay approaches. He's always laughing. He's not laughing as much now.

"A thousand. Can you do that? ''

"…… I don't know. ”

The fact that the Isher clan could not guarantee 'victory' meant that they would soon only see defeat. Hay bites his lips.

"If so, the poem I..."

"You guys, blood...!"

It was before Hay even finished speaking. Ceripa shouted in a pale, dull complexion, and stretched out his fist, blocking their front.

And that was her last.

His hand was cut off like a reed, even if he had a heart. In her pretty face, I wanted to have two rows of solid lines in an instant, and I tore them apart, and I stood on the ground without even knowing that I had lost my master.

"…… what? ''

”Three, Ripa...!"

[Too much thought, I reduced it a little. What do you think? Do you still want to defend your righteousness? Just as I abandoned the North, I just want it to be over this time.]

The cloth shook its lips without answering anything. Motivation died right in front of my eyes, but I rarely felt real. My head was filled with only questions.

What am I supposed to do? Do I really have to throw you away? Shall we keep our promise? Shall we fight? But the future only shows him defeat. If we know the end, we'll all die together. Maybe we should save someone who can save us.

Why is there such a monster here?

The Ghost Corps was not under the darkest night.

Is there even a war going on?

Then you have to live.

You should report this.

But how can you abandon a junior?

You don't want to abandon juniors. Does it make sense to kill other juniors?

I thought I'd bite my tail and stretch my mind. Everyone looked at the cloth. Anya looks back at Serifa's shattered corpse and unspeakable cloth.

And looking at them like that, it was the moment the Ghost Captain's mouth went up.

"You have nothing to worry about, Senior. ”

Half a day. He holds the hallucinograph of glass and stares at the Ghost Captain.

"Senior Serifa is dead. He wants to take Anya with him. He's not cool enough to take her out in front of us. ”

"Bar, Van......"

"I don't have the courage to seek mercy from the son who killed Senior Serifa, and I don't intend to abandon Anya and make a distinct distinction. Let's get a grip. To the end. At least we die together, right? ''

Maybe it's civil. It might be his own idea to die together, but the cloth might actually want to run away.

But, I don't know. The moment of death can always come. But it's as important to the prosecutor as how he lives and how he dies.

Maybe it's a childish idea. Of course. He was a kid. But what about it? There's another value to young people's choices.

The Ghost Captain was looking at half a day. It's scary. I realized it was just an eye contact. That ghost knows he has an unquantifiable power.

I didn't understand that the cloth was frozen. It was strong enough. After bluffing in front of an opponent who couldn't resist, I didn't know it was ironless.

In fact, he wants to run, too.

I want to live.

I want to be a prosecutor alive

But once, he never wanted to be a surviving prosecutor for abandoning his colleagues.

I mean, so...

If you've already searched, you're going to die. What are you doing here? ”

I laughed about why.

It's weird.

I can't believe I'm the real prosecutor after I put death in front of me.