"I don't know if there's a way out of this already... but the destruction of evidence takes precedence over our own."
Grants saw the giants appear at Fort Salamo and hurried to the end of the dossier about them in the fort when they became disadvantaged. It turns out that the plan is no longer going to work, because then I thought the obliteration of evidence was a priority. At first they tried to end it using people, but as they partitioned, they were also caught in battle everywhere, seemingly with little survival. Grants became anxious to see if the material could be completely terminated, and the key thing, within turning to the end himself, was finally distracted by the confusion and could no longer escape.
Grants was forced to finish the dossier with a few of his remaining men, who also put it in his hands. Grants was relieved to learn that Pfeiffer had apparently been imprisoned, and that the material had ended in time. This leaves no conclusive evidence for Pfeiffer to be condemned internationally. The giants returned to earth when they died, and there is no longer any evidence that Pfeiffer tried to use them. Pfeiffer will also not be disputed in the most appalling, joint heretical council of nations.
Grants, on the other hand, had regrets. If you can freely use that giant, you can use Death Sinners and others to create a powerful army. Returning to the earth after days, they are the best consumables and Pfeiffer's army will be the strongest army of our time if we consider only winning the war.
In that case Pfeiffer will eventually be king of the clientele, and the clientele will begin to advance towards other countries. Grants didn't even think it was the right thing to do, but he always dreamed Pfeiffer would be king. The fierce lord I met when I was younger, trying not to break this swordswallowing peace. Seeing a lord burned by an ambition unlike the times, I am still here with a heart. Whatever accusations people made of me, Grants seriously thought that I wanted to dream of heaven once and for all when I was born a man. At least, this Pfeiffer might make it happen.
But it was still a mistake to use our unknown evil way, or at least now it's across the street for Pfeiffer. No, because I used a bad way, I knew that this seemingly tranquil peace had an indescribably stupid and ugly muddy at its feet. We realized that this sludge would be nothing to ourselves. Then at least I wanted to take advantage of Pfeiffer's potential by wearing mud.
"(Thanks to the system of cadet recruitment set up in the territory, talented young people are developing. If they gradually emerge into the world, they will surely become useful to Master Pfeiffer. Even without me soon, Master Pfeiffer...)"
Grants had made a sincere pledge of allegiance to a man named Pfeiffer. That's why I wasn't going to hate it when I assumed all the blame if anything happened and Pfeiffer took Pfeiffer's place. But at the same time, I want to see Pfeiffer become king.
Grants did not abandon any hope of escaping this fort to the end and trying to perpetuate his life in any miserable way.
"If we're going to get out, should we go south once we cross the border? It would be better to hide your identity and hide it for once than to exile, but what's wrong with this sword... well"
Attention to the surroundings was slightly diminished because Grants was walking around putting his thoughts together. Just then, I bumped into people around the corner. Hit in the left chest, mellow Grants.
Usually I almost reprimand them, but in a situation like this, it doesn't work either. On the contrary, it is better that some opponents do not see themselves.
Grants tried to see the other guy's face wondering who he bumped into, but he just saw the side of it. But it does look familiar on its side, behind it. That's the man. We're supposed to be familiar with each other, but somehow the man ignored this one. Suspiciously, Grants accidentally spoke to the man.
"Wait, E-"
So much so that Grants noticed that the colour of the floor was changing. The floor has no even rug, a simple cobblestone cold gray. Yet now the color of the floor was bright red. Isn't such a bright red only about the carpet in the reception room when viewed by the nobles of high rank in the royal castle?
In an attempt to figure out why something like this had suddenly appeared, Grants noticed that its red former was flowing out of his left chest. The source of the red was the blood flowing out of my chest.
"... what?
Grants' left chest was stabbed with a needle on the cylinder. I should have worn the breastplate for once, but the needle was piercing the breastplate nicely. Through the holes in the needle, there's a lot of blood on the ground.
Grants tries to pull through that needle, much more to his mind. If you pull out the needle, you will bleed extra. But you don't have to pull out the needle to bleed. Grants wandered off on the spot, not knowing what to do, and realized he didn't have a voice trying to run something. His throat was also slashed at some point. There is no blood at all from this one, and for the first time Grants learned fear here.
That's not all. If you notice, your left hand falls off, and your right arm is cut off from the tendon, making it unusable. Plus I just realized that both legs had been cut off.
Grants couldn't even scream, and he let his mouth pound on the spot and looked at him. The opponent is trying to leave slowly as if nothing had happened with his back on. It was too natural to behave, as if nothing had really been done.
But Grants did see it. They looked back and smiled. And as I said goodbye to Grants, I waved and walked away as I did. When his opponent became invisible at the bend, Grants collapsed from his knees and fell into the sea of blood he had made himself. He didn't even have the means to tell him what Grants had in mind in the fallen sea of blood. His loyalty ended up sinking into a sea of blood, not sludge.