A con man, surprisingly, does not try to take anything from the rich and powerful. Because the rich are richer, they have less opportunity to take advantage of them, and if they want to cheat them, they have to be prepared to do so.

　Therefore, for them, it is the poor who are their best customers, who are clothed in their own clothes and who may not be able to eat today or tomorrow.

　After all, if you gently reach out your hand and whisper to them a sweet temptation that seems like a heavenly tune, the poor will kiss even the hand of the devil.

　Then the deceiver is left to his own devices. Forcibly tear off his rags, take all his possessions, even his begging tools, and wave goodbye to him.

　Therefore, it is only when people are in a state of weakness that they should think carefully about taking the hand that is extended to them when they are in a state of weakness.

　I myself have a good understanding of such matters from experience.

　After all, the people in the backstreets that are mistaken for the ditches where I was born and raised are the same people who pretend that they are the great swindlers who deceive people and steal their fortunes, but unknowingly they are taken advantage of and cheated over and over again.

　In the process of repeating this, people are born who believe that it is foolish to believe in people from the bottom of their hearts. That's how they live in the back streets. They believe it is the way to live.

　Well, now that you mention it. Is this heraldry a force to be reckoned with, the strong or the weak? Which will it be?

"We are the city-state of Belfain. I'm not sure what to make of it.

　It's hard to understand the meaning of these words, which are laden with the scent of ritual. If you're not sure what you're looking for, you can always try to find out.

　In time, they will add more and more unnecessary things, and in the end, they will get stuck and be left behind by the times.

　I sat at the end of the table with a chewing tobacco in my teeth, exhaling a small breath and watching the messenger give a long speech.

　The messenger from Belle Fain stepped onto the soil of Garou Amalia just as the meeting was about to become unbearable due to the chill in the air.

　If it hadn't been for the messenger who suddenly burst into the operations room, my left arm would have been broken at least. By Kalia's hand, no one else's. In that sense, he was undoubtedly the messenger of salvation.

　The messenger was sent to the city-state of Belle Fain. Like Garouamalia, it is one of the autonomous regions that maintains its independence on a city-by-city basis, and it is a leading city-state scattered around Garouamalia.

　As I recall, it is the closest city to here, and trade with Garou Amalia must have been active. Because of its proximity to Galuamaria, which has strong characteristics as a commercial city, it is safe to say that Belfain has developed greatly in a different sense.

　That is to say, if Galuamaria played the role of commerce among the surrounding city-states, then Belle Fain played the role of military power, or in other words, it functioned as a mercenary city.

　In terms of military power, Belfain is undoubtedly the best among the city-states.

　That's why they're saying this. They want to join forces with the heraldry and come under its protection.

　Oh, how I dread to speak. With heavy eyelids, I endured the whole thing until the messenger knelt down and left the room, feeding on the scent of chewing tobacco.

　I guess rituals really are all about taking your time, aren't they?

　After the messenger left, there was a strange silence in the room again. Of course, this time the silence was not one of awkwardness or emotional stagnation, but simply a tightening of the lips as everyone tried to decide what to say.

　Even if there are words in the corner of their brains, they are hesitating in their throats, wondering whether they should say them or not.

　While everyone was silent, their eyes naturally fell on the parchment Mattia was holding.

...... Surely, it's no different than an official document issued by the state. It also bears the magical seal of Belfain.

　As if unable to endure the stares and the prolonged silence, Mattia spilled the words. I'm not sure what to make of that.

　A magic seal is undoubtedly the proof of an official document issued by the state. If a wax seal is a certificate used by the upper class, a magic seal is like a certificate used between nations.

　Each nation has its own seal agreement, and any text bearing that seal is guaranteed by the nation, no matter what. Even if the content is outrageous or far back in time, if you have your country's magical seal, the country must fulfill the contract.

　If not, the nation's credibility will fall at once. Then there would be no more trade between nations, and merchants would only sell goods to the nation in exchange for physical gold.

　In other words, putting a magical seal on a document is an act of the state throwing its credibility to the other party.

　That document is here now. Since the saint says it's Belle Fain's magic mark, it must be true. What a mess!

　We were having trouble digesting the meeting's agenda, for starters. Anyone would be confused if they were given a letter that could be interpreted as a messenger of the devil or a messenger of God.
　He glanced at the black hair swaying in the corner of his eye. Fialat's lips twitched slightly.

　Not that there hadn't been opportunities like this in the past. There were times when we were all lost and our lips were sealed, wondering what to do next.

　In my case, however, I knew that no matter what my opinion was, I would not be valued, and I kept quiet so as not to step on the snake's tail needlessly.

　In any case, it was the genius of Fialaert who was always the first to think in such situations. He had multifaceted knowledge and was able to express his opinions calmly and accurately. She can do everything better than most people, and that's what she does.

　So, this time too, whether expecting it or not, my gaze went to Fialaat. Rather than consciously, her face suddenly turned to look at him, as if to tell him that her old habits were still alive.

　His dark eyes blinked as he met her gaze, and then, with a curious smile, he tilted his head.

　No, why are you tilting your head?

　I told Fialaat in a whisper that he didn't seem to understand my intentions. What do you think is the right thing to do after all?

　Fialaat rolls his eyes and moves his lips as if to say, "What are you talking about?

'To me, it's a bit like that either way. If Lugis chooses to do something, I'll go along with it.

　No, no, that's not what I meant.

　It's up to her, of course, to decide what the consequences are. There's something about those words that moves me.

　But before that, she has her own will, her own opinion of the situation. It's not like she's going to throw that all over me.

　She must have read my dubious expression, because her cheeks fell somewhat in disgust as she continued.

You're not going to listen to me anyway. You're like a child who climbs to great heights even when I tell him not to go into dangerous places.



　Well, that's completely irrefutable. Without thinking, I pressed the chewed tobacco hard against my teeth.

　I know very well that I have never taken a risk in my life, that I have taken every precaution to be safe, and that I wouldn't be able to say that even if I were the devil himself.

　But I believe it was not a mistake.

　If an ordinary man like me wanted to reach Fialaat and other heroes, I had to make recklessness my friend, tame the danger, and move forward.

　Besides... If I valued my life and lived my life avoiding everything, I would end up with nothing as I once did. I was terribly afraid of that.

　I felt something scary touch my heart. I swallowed my spit.

　So Fialat's words were not wrong. In fact, he was absolutely right, and it made me feel so uncomfortable that I couldn't help but lower my eyes.

　I'm not sure if Fialaat saw this, but he smiled and opened his lips, letting out a slight exhale.

So, Lugis. It doesn't matter to me what is right or wrong. If you say it is, I will make it right. ...... Oh, but--

　--You'll have to explain to me exactly who and what you are.

　You'll have to explain to me exactly who and what you are," Fialaert said, his voice changing from a whisper to a whisper in my ear. The strange seductiveness of her voice, and the stagnation of her emotions, made me lose my voice.

　I see, so what would be the correct response in this case? In a corner of my brain, I was thinking of such a useless thing.