Chapter 36: 36 Thirty-five words, 'that's not the point where you want me to be.'

The condition of the fallen Lugis was unmistakably that of a critical, serious condition.

From his right hand to his shoulder, it was a miracle that it had not been charred, and the skin on his upper body, especially on his back, had been severely altered. The reddish-black scene is not something that can be looked at directly, and the expression on Fiorato La Volgograd's face is distorted.

But if he didn't save him here, he would die. Fialaat, unconcerned with his own staggering steps, moves closer to the prone Lugis.

Now. It's the only time. The arson riots are beginning to die down as the faithful work desperately to extinguish the fires. This is the only time we can help Lugis, when they don't have time to worry about us. If she continues to be in a serious condition, she will definitely face the hands of the god of death. Even if she survives, her body will surely be damaged. Your life as an adventurer is doomed.

Oh, I won't let that happen. Fialat's hands pressed against the wound. I can't believe I'm touching my skin, but I feel it in my palms. I've decided to save him, Lugis. He was the gold, I was sure of it. Yes, and I will not allow him to rot away here like this.

Once again, Fialaat's lips change shape as she casts a spell.

I'm not going to let him die here.

My throat is choked. It's not as if the magic that should be involved in the voice is not being output. It's a great way to make sure you're getting the most out of your time.

Fialaert's face turned pale and her eyes were stained with regret and despair. She knew this feeling all too well. In the past, when she still believed in hard work, she had worked hard every day until she reached this state.

In other words, this is the phenomenon of magical power depletion. Not less, but depletion. In this state, a magician cannot perform magic unless he takes a reasonable amount of rest.

No matter how much magic he twists or concentrates, nothing is concentrated in his hands, and his throat does not produce a sound, as if he has forgotten how to make a sound.

Oh, no. How is this possible?

Tears well up in her dark eyes. Finally, finally. I've finally found my path. That path, Lugis, is dying. But I still can't do anything about it. The same as before.

The same. I'm useless.

I should have just died. I should have died with him in my arms in the flames if I was going to be thrown into hell after being given such a glimpse of hope. That would have been the one thing that would have saved me.

Fialaat's heart was blackened and dragged into the depths of the earth. Her eyes were downcast and her face was turned down. Suddenly, two voices echoed in her ears. A woman's voice and a man's voice.

A woman's voice and a man's. "You've run out of magic. You're pushing yourself too hard.

You've already got dark circles on your face, you need to rest. If you continue to use up your magic, you will not be safe.

And then a man's hand reached out to him.

One of the voices sounded familiar to Fialaat. One of the voices sounded familiar to Fialaat, and it was unmistakably that of Held Stanley. The hand was gentle, and the expression was one of concern for Fialaat. The other voice belonged to a female swordswoman named Kalia, who had always been by Lugis' side.

Both of them have soot somewhere on their clothes, and a red pattern on them, probably from blood. However, there are no serious wounds on the surface.

When he looked up from his prone position and recognized them, Fialaat felt two conflicting emotions in his heart.

One was relief.

Oh, that'll save him. They are undoubtedly gifted. They are undeniably gifted, as evidenced by the fact that they have made it through this clamor almost unscathed, even though the fires have begun to die down. They are gold itself. So there's nothing to worry about anymore. Everything is going to be all right now.

And secondly, the hatred that chilled his heart.

Fialat's body tenses, his back teeth chatter. Oh, not again. Again. After all we've done, he and I and Lugis, it's you, the gold, who will take it from us in the end? Please don't. I don't want that reality. I'd rather he and I die out here than let it be known we can't do anything without the gold.

Relief given in exchange for dignity and independence. I wonder if the poor would welcome such a hand from above. Fialat saw his fingertips tremble involuntarily. His eyelids reflected the heroic figure of Lugis from earlier. He had undoubtedly acted to preserve his dignity, and in doing so, had sought to enjoy death. He took the scythe of the Grim Reaper as his friend and tried to die with himself intact.

Oh, how sweet it would be. I wonder if I can choose such an action. Will I be able to take the sweet fruit that lies beyond death?

Slightly, Fialaat turned his face away from the two and distorted his neat expression. There were tears of regret in his eyes.

"No, no. You said Fialaat, you have one more job to do.

You said Fialaat, you're going to do one more job," Kalia asserted, interrupting Heldt's attempt to rest Fialaat. She picked it up from the rubble as she walked confidently.

At first glance, it doesn't seem to be of much value. It looks like an old sword, and it may or may not have a certain value as an antique. I'm not sure if it's a good idea, but I think it's a good idea. I'm not sure if this is a good idea or not, but I'm sure it's a good idea.

"This is a family heirloom. "This is a family heirloom. Lore has called it a mystery and a miracle. I don't know what it does. The only thing I know for sure is that it was refined with magic.

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With that, Caria tossed the sword carelessly to the ground. Fialat was puzzled, but took the old sword in both hands, just as it was thrown to his chest.

Oh, it's a foreign object. A sigh of admiration escaped Fialaat's throat the moment he received it. As a sorceress, she had no idea how effective it was as a sword. But this is a piece of iron, even the hilt is woven with magical power. Can the best wizards and sorcerers from all over the world reproduce this in this day and age?

Both of Fialaert's hands, which were grasping at him, were involuntarily soaked in sweat.

No need to explain. I don't need an explanation. This adventurous fool has done his own thing. ...... Too bad I can't do anything about it.

In the event that you've got a lot of time, you'll be able to take a look at this kind of a person.

The expression on her face was still dignified, with her slitted eyes narrowed and her small lips tightened. But without a doubt, the tone of her voice and the emotion in her silver eyes were nothing but regret and regret.

If I could do it, I wouldn't leave it to you," Kalia's eyes said eloquently. Her hands are folded tightly, as if she is suppressing the outpouring of emotion.

"...... Yes, even with all my heart.

The edges of Fialaert's lips couldn't keep from lifting.

Oh, it's me. I'm the one who's going to save him. I know I had Kalia's help, I know I would have given up on him alone. But at this moment, it's not the geniuses who will save him, Lugis, it's me.

I'm not sure what to do, but I'm going to do it. Fialaert's fingers were smeared with blood. But that was no longer on his mind.

He closed his eyelids and watched as the ink pressed against the parchment in his brain.

How can I use this mass of magic to repair Lugis' body? I have to figure out a way to do that right here and now. It's not like using existing magic. My hands continued to write down the theories of magic on the parchment. It was a strange, yet somehow comforting sensation to see a theory of magic that I didn't know come together so neatly. I have had a similar idea since I was a child. How to incorporate external magic into a person and make it part of the skin, part of the body's defect. It's a theory that others have ridiculed as sophistry.

But now, in his mind, the theory shone with an unmistakable glow. Fialaert opened his eyes and, without blinking, opened his throat to offer a breath of magic.

--I wish for the art of casting his in my hands.

It is the art of transforming the world. A theory of magic that will change the very foundations of the world. It's the realm of Fyarlath, the man who created a turning point in the future history of magic, the man who was given the name of the Changeling.

It was a sight I couldn't believe my eyes. A lump of magic power, a treasured sword, was buried in Lugis' body. The magic power formed the shape of a sword, and transformed into the same existence as Lugis. Rougis becomes the Treasure Sword, and the Treasure Sword becomes Rougis. When this happens, Baeken will be forced to take notice. His own deficiencies, the need to repair them. And so, in order to repair them, Baeken immediately began to channel his excess magic power to his entire body.

The effect was wonderful. Magic power covered Lugis' entire body and circulated. The body, which should not have any magical power to begin with, joined hands with the magical power and became a friend, repairing the burned skin and altered body.

Fialaert, with his eyes wide open, gazes at Lugis with a blissful expression. As if to say proudly, "This body was cast by me.

However, his mental strength has reached its limit and is about to be exhausted. Even though he is looking at Lugis, it is no longer possible to see him, and sweat is licking his skin all over his body.

If you're not sure what to do, you can always ask your doctor.

"Are you going to stop?

"You're not going to stop me?

Kalia muttered to Hert Stanley, her lips pursed in annoyance, as if taking it out on him. Standing next to Kalia, Herdt sighed and opened his mouth.

"If you try to stop me, you will stop me. Of course, if it means risking Fialat's life, I'll pull out my sword to stop you.

He continued, pausing occasionally to choose his words.

And I think this is a good time to do it. She, Fialaat, was strong, but somehow unsure. For her sake, we shouldn't stop now. I'm not as overprotective as you think.

As the words came out of her mouth, Kalia suddenly shook her silver hair.

He crossed his arms and frowned, "So that's the man's good intentions and the right thing to do. There were a few questions in her mind. But Kalia did not dare to speak of them. Something tells me that letting Heldt speak won't do him much good. There was a strange feeling in Kalia's mind.

"But you don't seem to get along with him. They seem to be at odds with your righteousness.

She lifted her chin and pointed at Lugis, to which Heldt replied, running a finger down his own cheek.

I'm still not sure about that. I don't know if we're on the same page or not. He is a strange man. But...

I'm interested. These words sent a light chill down Kalia's spine. She couldn't grasp the reason for it.

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