(revising)

Now friends, the chance of this happening in reality is slim. Let the wizards dream.

“Kano-Basho, don’t! W-would you stop it!” The blushed Hyruno attempt to stop her sister. You could assume it was a tease about something in the past. A mash of girly adult stuff and the days of youth. Or perhaps the odd smell of the man after work. Your free agent, your choice.

They talked but our satirical fool utter not much words nor wisdom. He was surprise to see Hyruno spending her free time outside the knight’s guild estate. More astonished that the lady was in her cute, appealing civilian clothing, with her special rapier and a light weapon guard at the thigh. He wave without a care. A lame, “Yoh.”

It has been a while since the tour of the knight’s estate. Had the girl gotten milky pink, turn a third around the big sister, shaking and quaking with the lift hands at her stuffed padded bosom. The eyes nervously retracted, focus on different spots of interest, quivering. The sheathed rapier jitters against the thigh guard plate. Would No Mercy expect much but a sour brow.

“Idiot! It’s not like-don’t look at me, Kano-Basho! J-just a misunderstanding.” Hyruno stuttering. Continue she in the head, “That is why Melony wanted me to dress nice today. You’re dead Melony! I would have your head if you haven’t escaped to Dumbodale! Arghhhh.” Our main possibly knew from her girly grunts.

Yes, indeed it was a milky heart, the hand over of the doves. The bread and butter, the milk of all maiden’s in love. In due, as time pass, even milk has an expiration date.

A remembrance. The young women had accidentally purchased a waterfall but fallen into the lake. Seneth kept them logic silence and was the mouth spake only when necessary. The master of density? No Mercy flirt most unexpected, with it came the used of jargon and sarcasm, a hint of a pick up line that gotten red cheek, Hyruno involved. No Mercy is a flapper. The mother of flappers. Desirous of wanting, attracting admirers. Continue she of interesting good works that girls and women readers of this book will be learned.

Have the auctor shown a bit of witticism. Believing he don’t smell. Snuffing the lovest jacket and even unto his trouser, pulling just to get a sniff of the aromas, “Nope, fresh as a whistle.” Now the hobo did not smell like soap either. And if it was to be the fume of soaps, was it scented with many lovely compliments.

“Is one positive? Oh, but a man like you smell of sweat.” She proceed her advancement. Getting near the hobo for the sniff. Later, an AWOO.

“Nay, say something intelligent. I love smart man. As long they’re not weebs.” What is this? Making all the advances. Seneth plays along as she checked him out from the front, side and back. High and low with no excuse. Clearly, there are red flags emanating. The woman had multiple love mates but probably plays the virgin card.

Then saith he, “Then the stink is of sweat and dirtiness. Will it be clean with the coming bath. But the filth of men, and especially you woman, can never be cleaned. Nor does one believes to be washed with new coats, yet ever is them naked feet trample on dirt. Does it benefit a person to change one’s habit?” A subtle change in the woman’s attitude. That is good news to me.

“Oh, a wisecracker aren’t ya? It is what it is.” No Mercy sigh. A visual understanding for giving up. This women doesn’t learn.

“. . . . . . . .” I never met someone so educated but so unlearned who uses the phrase, “It is what it is” in this world until now. A common remark used in America I heard. A heretical statement for admitting defeat, they, whom had no control over but would deny this very statement. It is not what it is if one catered to responsibility and logic. To think outside the box. To accept things as it is is pathetically a loss when what was not, is what it was as always. Is a broken stick always a broken stick? If you readers can’t answer that, you might want to get your second GED. Hence to those who marked that phrase.

Seneth believes the woman, likely a portion of dumb society too, understands and uses the dread differently, not knowingly and carelessly.

The hobo stop flirting. Had he learn a lesson in the early chapters; when women flirts with you, note: look out for their boyfriend! To stop this chaser, this flapper, will one man must do the necessity. The hobo knows he ain’t no match for the woman’s appeal and is it dragging him from his next mission. It was the smartest to evoke a bit of realism.

“You are just a young hag with high mileage, who is always chasing, and vrooming, and no delivery usage. Why should I pay full price for public tried and used wagon, and spend my time giving you multiple tune ups that you wanted and needed? When those who did, defiled and poisoned your insides. Left you they did, a seat scar for life. I am not startle by your new coat. Replacement cost much. Too much for a poor man like I. I’m not Hosea, girl. You are breaking apart. Your engine is too used and rusted, overworked, and you leaked too regularly by men who had no idea how to physically handle you. They tinkle your engine with them bugged hands so much, I might just find a better, a more faithful, a cleaner engine, untouched and give her a great tune up instead, to make her personally mine favorite wagon. Saves me the trouble from wasting my time repairing you, and only to find more troubles along the way. Your teasing bolts are stripped. Your craving wheels are lop sided. Your path is crooked. You think you are worth much? I say not. Publicity doesn’t like selling your kind. Only hyphens your worth. And an old men’s ditch loves you regardless what shape you’re in. One? Two? It doesn’t matter for them. The more, the merrier. They’ll take it all, salvage whats valuable, and tear you apart for their use and turn you into a lesser trophy. Your casket stinks, your breath smells like butt and you live on others expenses! So begone woman, learn some decencies from a legendary hobo.”

That should do it. She was stabbed pretty bad by words. The hobo’s parable about ice cream and planting seeds in their wrong seasons can come later. But matey, I know you want to learn now. Next was a fury of imaginable heights. The liter of boiled cabbage water was obliterated before the eye contact. From a supreme response, he dash out.

“Wagons don’t have engines!! Sergeant Paleo!” No Mercy said furiously. This was the selected name of the shikigami she had named. Our main ran for his life. The early start helped. And to add insult to injury, continue Seneth, “No ones plays another gamers’ saved file! Let alone, a file with all bad chosen consequences!” Was she alienated. The woman in steamed. Hyruno sweatily begs her to calm down.

Our hero came to realize, the battle teens aren’t with him. A couple of nights in jail must have done some tricks or has the old battle teens learn the dirty secret of men who wears their pants hanged low? Well, do you want to know too fellow readers? Of course, I know you would while Seneth is running away to safety. Here is the hall of fame so listen up.

Low pant riders was started in prison as a joke by upper “management” and by horny convicts, all male institutions. Usually their targets are with the “skinny” men. A preference to get funnel in shower rooms and cells. To detect a free daddy giver, the hanged pants was mandated, labeled, and determine who shall give the men free services. Desperate men would sometime add the head of mops to their service as women’s hair. Some will force the service to in-bloat their shirts to stimulate a women’s upper bra, and too gives the body curves when arched in the pleasure district, an effort for a women’s attractive appearance. Some of the men likes their services in glittering wet shower or facing the corners with the mop hair, the full nakedness of dreamy women’s incisions. Due to this out of control situation, have many prison convicts were force to wear one-piece orange jump suits.

You have learn somewhat good wisdom; so pants up before heading to prison. Your virtue is key. Be not that fool on the street. Who follow the trends and knows not of losing his prize meat. Back to the story.

Seneth ran to the meeting. Has he used the most unpopular travel routes which gave him great distant from the flapper. From one made trouble has the hobo came running into another. The greenery is appealing and so was the pockets of opening. Founded he, his guild was under attack by an unknown team of eight of his unplanned heading. The Meadows of Ocarina awaits, the place of their guild meeting.

Fox was much defending the children, especially Odessa, carrying her away from children enemies. Five of them total under the age of sixteen doing their best to sack the girl. An abduction likely. Korimi wasn’t on par against a man wearing a tyrian long vest, backed up by what it look like a mage, who carries the boombox and boomstick of destruction, the abominations of desolation.

Seneth came rushing through the woods, surprises Sagar and the mage much. Kick he, a fell wood towards them with the sprites, then directed he east to Fox and appear was Seneth in front of Terkus third heavy two-handed tech strikes! Had the hobo slide from the side and transition to stop the wild man’s attack with the chattering guard. The bod back sixty percent revealed was fatal. Was it a move Terkus was surprise by. The uncanny block skill with not the blunt blade but with the hand guard. It was awkward for a swordsman to do. Had the wild man found a new style. The battle slowed.

The fell cypress cracked. Sagar and the mage had completely stopped their advancement. “T-that man, Terkus! H-he was on the wanted list!”

“You don’t credit. To show his face in broad daylight? Glad we meet again.” The man notice the smell that wafted from the jacket. A hint of an oily smell from behind the ear. “Tsk, the bum like you must be nutty or rather too confident.” Terkus was not worried about the hobo. “A wanted fugitive never has a good sleep.” and to talk of this that the wild man spouted, the hobo retort, “Nor does the good man paying his debt. ‘Tis not wisdom to hand a crook fowl to the sleeping beasts; otherwise, let both be devour.”

The style of fighting he shown is trouble enough even to a seasoned veteran. Reminded the wild man of a buddy who he knew working with the Free Knights of Green. A talkative session happen in one engaged art. A continuation of a shower of displays, a tower of fantasy, a tower of mastery that Terkus perform. The reflex was incredible.

“Get a job bum.” The wild man ended.

Seneth kept the cold face, the poker face. Went his left hand into the lovest jacket but was outplayed by the wild man. Did Terkus know not what tricks our main have plan. The accidental slip from an orange peel, that too, was it seen as a genius graded evasion. A crucial state of lose seen renovated for the utmost performance. No matter how effective was the embarrassment, Seneth must endure. Retreating away gave no utterly clue of faultiness. Lest it be his downfall, then entertainment is proceeded.

A grab of the calf shocked Seneth to the most extreme. A hand large enough to fully cover and to bound hold of his calf. It was of the bad leg that was yanked. The strength of the wild man was not tolerable yet was he much resourceful in his usage. Or maybe Terkus has smell the luscious taste of aromas emanating from the hero. An awesome cologne against human enemies. Especially in PvP arenas.

Now the undertaker was merciful mayhaps. Nuj was only pull from the fae grass and was the man fling in hold, to slam upon the earth. The one-eighty degree divergence! Children, violence does not solve the world’s problem.

How does one solve the situation when the world doesn’t listen? So the yes-man continues. Simple really, you haunt them. No, not as a ghost, voodoos or with historical archives. But for time’s sake, lets make it really really really “anime-ish.”

Before being slam to the ground, at the two foot mark, them glorified sprites of gold hearts attempt a rescue. The hands of cries that make leave of the home. Terrible were some to cause Terkus to stun! His grab was loosen. Will I leave the rest to your imaginations.

The hobo skid to reach of Fox and Odessa. The right hand burn from friction. The foot being sanded. Of this duo-linear path, in beast mode, skidding, has him knocking two youths, amateur adventurers into the piles of leaves. The Falling Old Man Stance is so much effective when one least expect. Nuj stamp the blunted blade into the wet grass, arise from a secondary twirl. One wouldn’t expect what is achieve next.

The wiggle of his right index at Terkus, “. . . Sadly, not a bum. It has been three days I had a decent shower, sweat by the brows of work. But sing my make believe angels. Am I, a knight of the road.” Stood he with the withered right knee with readiness.

A sense of estrange dedication, a will known artifice that jokes in something hard to be perceive by the public who they label one as mad. It was that laugh not known to the average world. You know, there is a name for it. ‘Tis not crazy.

So, did the drifter spake to his comrades, “I’m too old for fantasy criminals and having a wife is a headache. A real fantasy wife that I most favor could be number one. Now, what trouble did you guys got in?”

Fox explain. They were mistaken as kidnappers and Korimi, a slave beastian. Terkus’ group won’t listen to reason and that their quest was to bring lady Odessa back home. Miss Lenience did not know them either from this rehearsed claim of theirs. Follow and outburst from the mage was Sagar. Double the prized gold! Has he mention a small leak of information concerning Fox, a criminal too in the hinterlands? In the south-eastern lands past Bryce? In the Valley of Himes, the heading to the land of the elvfodites? Wow.

“Well, that too goes against me. But I assure thee, Seneth, it is not as it was told.” Odessa was released, hide behind Fox. Ever was the children enemies targeting the two of them. Seneth put on the mask.

Yea, it was identical. If one was to rejoiced at the destruction of him that hated he, or lifted up himself when evil founded he, neither have that one suffered his mouth to sin by wishing a curse to another soul. Indeed, will Seneth do no such thing. Only as it comes in the learned natural state. Then again, would he? Probably not.

To see Sandou’s hate against the agitators of his, wishing, yet not rejoice for their destruction when ill came after them, and they who are wicked in heart runs freely without punishment, and the poor boy, Sandou falls deeper into his own pit. For Gregory, was it not him who bears a grudge, a hate for the world that attacks him by the false of the world, put on by the vile mother? And to wish for the death of those that would attack him including the mother? Like the young said, “Are we not murderers in the heart?”

“Logos Astra.”

Fighting a wild muscle man with a huge fan sword is quite tough. The comparison of muscles is indeed overwhelming. The old party menu of characters have our main quickly checked, the location of his most right monitor, the character tags for Terkus and Kano-Basho were unlighted. Would it mean the players in party are out of commission? Or did something went wrong? Perhaps Seneth took a different friend route and missed activation like those gal games Japan is famous for? Still, was there no technical response and ended this shallow thesis.

The battle led them into a field of yellow garden snapdragons (antirrhinum majus) or any other yellowish and tall, about an estimate of twenty-five inches of greenery or greater, pleasant to the eyes as a backdrop and with foreground interactions. A conscripted, authentic samurai love movie with the fantasy elements.

It was cover within the yellow plants, them Shaggy Rogers, wild thorns as hidden traps within the gabion fences. Had the hobo fell into some and skid his way to hide, allied himself with the greens following Korimi. Fox and Odessa was close by. Their goal did not bear fruit to lose the perpetrators.

For men such as Sagar and the mage, they were fill with too much confident. It was easy money and had one let the mind lose. The works of the left brain. The ego trip without logic and awareness of the right. Both stooges acrobat across the stones with much superiority to only find themselves hurt. Had landed directly unto them organic, metallic, fantasy thorns in which it pricked the soft sole of both. Leftover tears drop upon the dirt. To cradle the victim holding the most painful feet screaming with the capital A! Had Sagar lost the bet.

Terkus caught up with the weapon clashes. In a frightful connectivity, has the wild man mention something peculiar, though light hearted, concerning their odd job taken by Viscount Briar. To naturally end their talks, a well ending lead, the Lord of Hobos quoth, “My birthday and deathday, is so the same, . . . Hebrew.” A special occasion.

“. . . How do you . . ?”

It is nice to be an ubiquitous man. Swords flickering. Has our auctor spot one enemy far away from the corner of the eyes. The tyrian long vest which Sagar wore was much identifiable within a vast hues of yellows. So suddenly, Terkus swap target. Aimed at Fox. To slow the fisherman down for the fast escape.

“Sagar! Get a guy!” Seneth didn’t know the meaning. To get a guy or is it a slang? Does he meant another able-bodied to haze he?

“Yinef, they’re going to get chains and ropes to bound uf!” Okay. Anything to swing and keep steady a heavy body. Our main was demoted in intelligence. Korimi knows what Terkus was saying. The mage threw a flash grenade upon Nuj in the attempt to blind his targeted vision. Has the mage not fully gotten up from the pain. The mage withdrawn and came mister India.

Odessa was capture by the youngsters while Fox is on tail. Terkus went after the fisherman and was the hobo dealing with Sagar’s martial art, sqay, and an offensive revamped kalari swordsmanship, a play battle of sword and shield. Korimi heard her screaming that alerted the guildmaster jumping off Sagar’s shield, smacking him in the back multiple times with the dusty shew of footwork, causing mister India to tumble holding his posture with the arms.

With much bent landing, Nuj sheathed the lunaward, turn and told Korimi to follow-up before Sagar regain posture. Before the mage spotted them hiding under the bushes, they hasten, rush to the little lady in the battlefield of yellow garden snapdragons! Objective: To save a damsel in distress. It was the hype. I know. I have contradicted myself in chapter four.

The sound mage run along the side walls for a better targeting position and did the mage swapped his weapon and loaded the pill of fire. Forward the mage jump in his attempt of a back flip, aimed and release the RPG of fury, the boomstick of destruction is what it is called. The annihilator. The abomination of desolation.

Mathematics and equations are clearly outdated in this era. As you children can see, the mage did . . . the famous Rocket Jump. Not once but twice twirling in the air gaining elevations. The third shot was a sound spell the mage produce. Seneth had lost words of this idiocracy avoiding retardation. A grand explosive of fire pellets with the flame tracers. Would one expect the camera to be still, it wasn’t. Moving away before being burned alive following the unfortunate guild to the rescue.

No no no no, has the mage not done yet! Came down from the sky in such a maneuver that ready his plasma rail handguns and started spraying until there are no ammunition left and quickly swap to a rail cannon. A quick reload vest hidden under the cloak made its appearance. So, how is he a mage? Loud sounds? Gotta be.

It was a memory leak that has happen. Seneth remembers something similar. A fantasy thought for a story during the high school days. A trigger once the rail guns and a rail cannon was brought out. A fight against his Babalon creations in the heavy rain within the flooded back alley, the open pipe slum, the degraded high raised area of some metropolis. Of Babalon Tyendou and Epsilon.

Seneth and Korimi busted through the barrages of gun fights unscathed and uninjured. The temerity. Sound Mage’s accuracy is awful. It was not long that the two of them help Fox battling Terkus. Afterward, provided an assistant for Fox to chase the group of children.

The enemy younglings saw the guild coming through the field of plants. And has one turn around, “Go ahead! I’ll slow them down!” Then shout the chubby boy wearing a small superman cape about the length of a handkerchief. His ultimate spell, “Melph Fictious Morphous!”

The hands raise and lower in front, palm outward, opened and flexed the fingers. Shot a vast ball of liquid. A strange pop. Liquid vibration refract backward in funnel, the sand, the dirt and greenery active. The limited area of the caster was undisturbed, unmarked by the element.

The spell fly to Seneth, much effusive in its state, spinning vertically. Was it faster than what he had thought. The sword drawing power along with the ability of the sprite’s dice wasn’t enough to only block. Had he gave up thinking and leave it to muscle memory. Fox broke through and went after the conjurer in the way before chasing the group of abductors.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

“Ahh, W-hat gives?! T-team combos?! No fair!” said the boy conjurer. The boy fought his best and chase after the fisherman but was running out of breath. Soon was them and the abductors, disappear from our main’s view.

While that was going on, our useless hobo hero here, guarded against the incoming rubber goo ball with the profile of his weapon. It hit him and was he pushed back, about to lose grounds and tipping from stance. The slime bounce, slid from the side and went spinning directly to Korimi, hit the poor beast boy in the face and sent him flying into the garden. The jubilant rubbery liquid flew into the firmament. And did this spell stretched its web into the garden to trap our heroes before falling back unto the fae ground.

“A professional slime girl.” alerted Nuj, crisscrossing on the battlefield, maneuvering to best he can by the resistance of the plants, avoiding Terkus, adverting the lock-on of the mage’s boomstick of destruction, tricking the rodeo clown, Sagar, of his roping attempts and the liquid web features.

Danger, skill detection: Liquid Prague. Danger, skill detection: Suffocation Water Prison.

Nuj was also alerted by the mask. He must take the slime out immediately before double trouble arrives. And so was it not long that Terkus came before him by the auto-lock skill art, hone to party members and AI contributors, to defend the selected character of the most threat nearby. It was too quick to see Terkus. But because of this strange hemorrhagic art, did it burned him of 1/12 of his Health Points in return.

The enemies presence are: a face off semi-duel against Terkus, Sagar, the sound mage and the gynecomorphous slime that had it reveal to be. This was the order of strength Seneth predicted. The most troublesome would be the weakest, the slime girl due to the abilities.

“Think out-side the box, Nuj. Think. Would it work?” said the hobo.

Terkus’ vatical fan-sword clashes against the hobo. The hand vellicate upon the handle. Cautiously was it stir. Waiting for the peculiar opening strikes to counter and then was it time, “Wolverine!” yelled the mercenary. “It’s Over!!!” Was it aggressive countering arts. The wild man has advantages in stalemates. Our main had learn the hard way the third time around.

A counter swordsman strength is his weakness. That is my friend, baiting. The hobo’s grounded acrobat wasn’t on par with how responsible Daisy does hers’. Weapon clashes at unexpected positions and places of swings. The semi-hiding and random appearance in the garden snapdragons helped to a great length when the sprites are helping with his footings. His right knee is hurting and must be guarded. To soothe this edgy edgelord pain that one who cannot massage it, had he pursued Lily, to mend the knee for the time being under the bone and ligaments.

“If not four shots. Isn’t his skills built for critical damages?” Terkus thought.

For the duration which was not given to you readers, the traveling band attacks Seneth in all matters. For the commander of this troupe, has Terkus open his defense, clearly to weaken himself. The wild man is a defensive high-damage spammer and countering locker. The best defense is the best offense is how this mercenary sees it. Retaliate all power, return it back to the owner ten times strong is his motto.

Seneth went after the slime girl once more and the summoned attacks. Had he dodge the RPG of Fury. Was it too close for comfort and broke through Sagar’s defensive state all because of the started background music to uplift misery! It is, my children, “Change My Style” by Glow Machine. Lets have a guitar and a shamisen in it too! Twerk it to my liking. I beg you. “Get ‘em, Get ‘em, Get ‘em!!!”

It was time. The wild mercenary unleashed his special skill, the secret art of his Gift. Up first was the skill “No Escape!!!” Literally it means that the family guy attempted a teleport run to the target.

Here is the lesser description of the second art. The secret skill starts off from the back. A wide vertical spin of the sword to parry incoming enemies’ attack at blind spot. Once animation ended, smoothly is it transition to a mighty horizontal swing with a magnify swing and reach of liquid fire actions. This elemental gradually build up from the back of the blade with a two second delay. Designed to catch those who dodges. Was it change from one handling into a two-hand technique. If the target were to guard, the aftermath of the impact will shock a force from behind, causing disruptive field damage with an estimated equivalence to the weapon’s normal length.

“Thank You!!!” Terkus obnoxiously battle roar for the follow-up. The wild man play with his art using his own back to trigger the parry before changing his battle position. Something that a fellow gamer would do to abuse such game mechanic. The hobo was parry and the eyes widen.

Daisy went poof, destroyed in the devastating horizontal slash! All the plants in the vicinity from behind Daisy bent from the jedi force.

“A diversion?!” The sprites outsmarted the wild mercenary. Out came from underneath Terkus was Tulip and Lily who tackled the slime girl, hidden in the garden, guarded by the wild man. They pull the slime away from the battlefield. The vagrant went after the sound mage with the mechanical boombox accessories.

Gamers, aren’t all high spell-casters and healers the most threat and then range fighters? I said, yes. Indeed they are. Was he in the presence of the mage, this sound advisor who was well over surprise that the mask man came out of the garden, hidden and quick was his foot steps. It was most unfortunate, the mage heard him not because of all the spamming of medium tier spells with loud effects, buffering the rustle of plants, allured to the limited lights and action scenes.

The mage was standing on top of the gabion fences in calculations. Seneth change the dice to one and quickly took the mage out before he could swap to the boombox of destruction in the process. A four strike attack from the side and back. The special effects of lights and flat, hollow wedge, and white edges burst out and check. The sound mage was famished, fainted in his dying cried after the knees and released, “I’m finished.”

Dally it not. When Terkus come about, a sequence of defenses, low in health, and an additional loss of life from the hemorrhagic art, his health was in the deep reds. “Gonna make this count, Thank You!!!” Was it worth the risk? Was he most surprise of an item when clashed.

“A shield carpet?! What the hell is this?!” Seneth had pulled out the carpet from within the broken sword. The use of the Parallax memoir. The carpet was distributed in the form of a scroll. Came out this bizarre weapon and open was the carpet spinning slightly in-close. Curved was the item but has is not lost form from Terkus’ hidden skill.

“Holy manures, that was too close for comfort! Spammers are ridiculously dangerous in range. Daisy, I need a boost to speed!” Mindlessly said Seneth. The liquid flame was sapping, and exploding, and erupting from the back of the blade from the heaviness of the impact. The range was deadly.

“I won’t fall for his scandalous trick.” Terkus sweat by the heat. Sagar made his way from behind the unusual flying carpet after breaking free of Lily’s red thread attached to his upper arm.

The hinted position of the wanted fugitive who would escape to. If the hobo would ever willingly engage the blade itself, will it hooked the poor man and retaliate with the liquid blast. Terkus got a good feeling. It was the end of him.

A pinch point tactic. Sagar face off against Nuj who he had deliberately pushed, forcing our vagrant by the weight of his ornate shield to the excess erupting fan-wedge sword. With the carpet slowly spinning and not losing its blocking mechanism and shape, Terkus had no idea what was happening after a slight seen of his buddy entering from behind, and is him fully unaware of surprises.

To where the good man may be, ‘tis hard to understand the fantasy logic he acquired. Therefore, will the hobo make it simple. He kick the carpet shield from the bottom. The edge whomp Terkus’ chin causing the wild man to back track that had left enough space to appear, west from below the carpet. Terkus’ point of view.

Terkus doesn’t understand the enemy. It was his first encounter of a strange style fighter. Even the foreign weapon emitted the sense of iron clang against flesh and accidentally did he bitten the tongue from this uncanny conduct.

Do you know? This is not applied to reality but warriors with large weapons, especially greater than their own bod, will it crumble and becomes unusable the closer the enemies are to them, if it means to be directly in their personal space. It was a gamble Nuj had to take. There is a chance that the wild mercenary may rely just on physical strength to grab hold.

Fortune favors the bold. The wild man canceled his strikes and redirect the arms as an unorthodox pommel attack. It was a succession. Seneth and the decapitated sword brandish. The veil smile greater, “Don’t get tooo cooockky!” mighty was Terkus and traded the hit. Our main was pommeled and was drop, skid nearby with Health Points at zero and Terkus was left with fractal 119 HP. His health was actually 3 HP and 116 Red Points.

Get ‘em Get ‘em Get ‘em Get ‘em Get ‘em!!!!

Korimi appears from the back and finish Terkus off with his wooden toy dagger. A big flat bonk to the top of the head. Sagar was finish by the beastian too. The beast boy’s auto-trait, “Feinting” was much underestimated. He was very tire from today’s activity. The bleeding from the nose stop and shout to Terkus, “You meanie! We’re innocent! Don’t hit children!”

“H-how? Did I miss calculation?” Scanning back the memory for the culprit of his exhaustion and the come-and-go fainting. There were no skills the hobo has to exhaust a person because the mage would’ve been alerted of the ailment syndromes. Then it came to him. The slime girl’s ability, Liquid Prague. Seneth’s weapon memoirs must have been the culprit.

“Get off my lawn!!” A rowdy farmer clamor from outside the garden. Much is him mad at what had happen to his field. Overly surprise of the aftermath, “M-my lawn! N-no!” Before long, some crazy witch release a multi of spells upon the men. Korimi have good instinct and dash quickly out.

“Gracidea Luster Meteor!” They all scream helplessly and continues of this anime wannabe, “Marjoram Righteous Impact!” There is no justice here and continues, “Clementine Jurassic Explosion!!” These cringe fabrications gotta be a joke right? Because Nuj wasn’t utterly disintegrated, it must’ve been. Has the hobo suffered greatly.

“No Mercy, you flat chest.” Sound mage and Sagar laying in the garden almost dying.

“Are you alright?” Fox came to check on Seneth following Korimi’s return.

“Don’t play dumb. I know you sike that abusive woman on me.”

“What are you talking about?” replied Fox. Our auctor fainted. I guess he got what he deserves for insulting an anime woman. The farmer was really upset. His lovable field of yellow garden snapdragons were ferociously marred by No Mercy’s spells and Terkus’ hidden skills.

“Who did it!? Who is responsible for wreaking havoc upon my little durblings!? Reveal yourself fiends!” Everyone points to Terkus. Even the AI contributor summon, the gynecomorphous slime agrees with Seneth’s guild, pointed at Terkus last and had the mercenaries saw the most honest slime girl.

“Oh, come on! Slime, what side are you on?!” said Terkus. The farmer made the traveler’s group to pay for the damage by working the field in return. “S-sir, I am on a quest!”

“Well EXCUSEEEE ME, princess. I don’t care! Damaging properties, you’ll compensate dearly. Be glad you’re not being sentence to prison or force to pay a sum of fees! You’ll work freely for me for three months’ worth, no rest. Now, pick up that fork sonny!” Did the farmer kick, heel him in the butt.

“Sagar! Say something smart!” The jerky bud drop out of his mouth.

“How can I? You and I are in the same boat.” On Sagar whisper in pain, “Why is No Mercy getting away with this?” The old lecher has a weakness to young gorgeous women.

And so, Nuj’s guild was spare. The little boy, Lloyd, saved their innocence when Odessa was kidnap. Met her and the kidnappers in town with the angry woman being pampered. It was Lloyd that persuaded No Mercy and clarified the situation.

No Mercy and her team will stay in Lasting Autumn for the duration of their comrades’ mischief, a probation of three months. It was told, Odessa will head with her guild to the land of Mathis Telus, in the county of Zanestira. No Mercy agrees that they would gladly meet them there again and have she asked Odessa not to wonder around too much and worry her adopted parent.

“I will send a letter to Viscount Briar that you’re safe. In the meantime, please stay out of trouble, Odessa.” said Kano-Basho.

It was the second time Lloyd visited Nuj’s guild today. Excluding the day of kidnap. Unexpectedly, a retrospect of tagging allies. Thorg and Baima showed up. An unusual circumstance and for what? Thorg and Baima was looking for the hobo. They even heard he was going on an adventure, spread around by the smaller guilds. So, went the battle teens searching and it so happen they ran into Lloyd, talking to an elderly and his wife. The topic, was it about saying his goodbyes to the Treasure Hunting guild. The battle teens’ excuse? They are going to leave the town for good. With the tax collection withdrawn, the debtor had forgiven the debtees, Baima could finally be free from her crazy family. She long to be independent and took this chance. For Thorg, there was no loose comments made until excitement couldn’t be contain.

Lloyd, severely was he red, handed Odessa a totem of safe travel, “Promise. Did I not say, I would buy it?” And to see the hobo at the sky pier saying before leaving the talkative group, which he was the only one doing the work, “Lucky lucky.” Odessa was quite embarrass while Thorg elbowing her and Baima’s yankee love-dealing, the massaging of her shoulders.

“No sweat, Odessa, you darling.” Our Baima, somehow she had became our mechanic, tease her to the point the girl couldn’t speak. More than what was spoken.

“W-when I become a k-kn-kn-n-knight, I-I will come to look for you . . . It’s a promise.” Oh how nice of him to blush. Must be something we readers must’ve missed? Yes. There were other events that happen throughout the early chapters.

“Don’t worry yourself. Be a man, boy.” Thorg introduce the thumb-up. Baima directed the little lady. Running a bit away to Fox and the hobo with hands on hold of Odessa’s shoulders. Spake she of her own Want, “Hot studs, here I come.”

“Gee, you’re searching for burning poop, young lady?” It was a joke that had to be brought up by Fox. Seneth even agrees. Talk a bit until . . .

“Winter won’t be long.” Undoubtedly, it wasn’t funny until Nuj throw in the defected joke. The timing was off. Baima didn’t want to talk to him no more. Speak to the hands, please. Of all the things to talk about, the congruent statements of their actions wasn’t interpret correctly. Odessa spake her minds after the deep thoughts, “N-Seneth, is it not a burden?”

“Burden?”

“You know. Carrying that carpet for work. Do you enjoy it? I find it strange.” Our main was indeed using such instrument for loading Baima’s ridiculous bags and tooling by the damaged dock.

“. . . Not to the slightest. But would a good man carry another fellow man’s dread? Or if one cares, shall he not thal?”

“I don’t understand” she said, “What does it feel like when you lift a burden? Not that I need it.” So the hobo gave her an example. A parable he heard from the very Sandou himself.

Our lovely main drop the smelly carpet and stretched his back. She continues, “Is that it?” Seneth pick up the carpet and complete the mean, “. . . Find another.” Now, being a wise butt has its flaws. When showing a bit a wisdom, the hobo accidentally knock a fellow goggle seaman off the port who came from behind him demonstrating. Yea, the scream was unique. The seaman is likely to survive with just a broken femur.

“. . . . . .” There was no word from this GRIMDARK one-shot comedy hoping he wouldn’t initiate a legal proceeding by the goggle dwarfven.

“You’re weird, Yinef.” Korimi respond. Odessa was giggling.

“. . . . . . Oh, didn’t I said the guild will be your luck?” For the most, Odessa did graciously smile. Genuine as Greg’s. The femininity that would raise her spirit. Seneth was glad too. Because of it, had the little lady helped in loading Baima’s bags. A good way to get help without asking. After the minutes, have our main went behind the ambiguous front, and put away the shield carpet into the parallax weapon. Another cringe as always. The old man’s back bone.

Surely would she, our newly mechanic would help too. Baima, a well known kind of woman, less should we call her a girl instead. The overgrown battle teen packed way too much stuff! Uneven heavy bags, metal trinkets filled in suit cases, rolling handle toolboxes, and extra changes of attires. Surely, a responsible adult would travel light. Or mayhaps, be organize and plan to have specific things for traveling in advance. One look at the mechanic slob, who hardly dresses like one, her things were packed recently. So what about Big Bird? Until now, he just wanted to go on an adventure and escape paying his overdue housing bills. My goodness! Them twos! Seneth is having back pain shoving Baima’s tools unto the ship. From women complaining about men not asking for direction, might we say this to them?

This self-loathing ending of a book. He really hoped they would not randomly join for no apparent reason. Them dead-weights. It’s too much seasonings for the start of the barefoot adventure.

In the shady area of Lasting Autumn, if readers remember Dearth Willy. The business plan was coming along. Was he inform of some findings of the Felis Notes. Though not much was found, the man was generous enough to find a batch to satisfy his newly customer. And on the phone he requested his minions to keep the search, but the area was crawled with strange inhabitants that even had frighten the squad in the middle of the night.

“Humbug! Never underestimate the house of forty-thieves.” Willy said. Fortunes smile indeed for the lively master of Thievery Guild. Other smaller merchant guilds were mad. They let out their frustration. Demanded they to be heard and enters the Mono Guild, a pseudo name, a front for the Thievery Guild.

“I must denied your cooperation fellow holders. Running a large guild is always a hassle. Good fortunes I beseech to.” A gentleman’s bow with the pulled of the hat tricks.

“Mister Willy. Selling corn at an unreasonable price before the coming winter. Please, the people will starve. The poor will be made to waste with the taxation you’ve provided.” But Dearth Willy did not listen to the heart and retort, “If one concerns much, do you not willing to do it yourself and provide for the needy? A monopoly over corn, bwa! Hardly the case. Humbug! I risked all I had to make decent profits. And have I established a stable income from my risks. Don’t bring your problems to me, mister Aragon. I have much on me plates.” Continue the holders. Three that out spoke the rest.

“You do well to learn. Charity is not of me best interest. The world had treat me worst and now will I return the favor.” said Willy.

“. . . . You’re mad.” Mister Aragon have fished a bolt from the blue.

“So did the mirror.” Willy ended. As was the holders complaining of some righteous provocation, came Dearth Willy’s daughter.

“Papa!” Happily in tone was she as her father hugged and picked up. “Neh, papa. I’ve taught that mask chicken not to look down upon you.”

“You have?! Bwa ha ha, my little Aina is all growing up defending herself.” The holders lost their words. “Good night gentlemen.” Willy left. From out the door, of twelve paces, carrying his prime loved daughter above the shoulder, men in cloaks greet him from behind the shady red-light district.

“Aina, my dear. Go to your mother. I will be home late tonight.” But Aina disagrees. It took two tries of childly talks to get her to leave with her butler Cassarol. It so happened to rain slightly that night.

Waiting for Dearth Willy was the creature known as The Chamberlain. An unusual man at first glance. From a second account, a creature wearing skins of humans and objects under the mandible. Down the steps of this meeting, into the corridors of steampunk machinery, behind the open doorway to dystopia, sat a strange box where the creature sit to greet Dearth Willy in the night.

“Smile not once but twice. Fortunes indeed favors me today.” said Dearth Willy. The two men that came lighted the area faintly with lamps.

“Master Mahan, I came under order.” The wisp of insects shingling.

“A title is too fancy for the taste.” Willy lighted his dragonic cigar and puffed. The eyes happily maddens and effectively was it red and saith he, “Call me Guspard. Lego Guspard.”

The close chuckle begins the night.