179 Art. 178, The Lovely Scars




 --What a selfish, daredevil, and foolish person he really is.

 Fialaert muttered deep in his chest, shaking his black eyes. He and Kalia picked up Lugis, who had lost consciousness and collapsed in the garden. It seems that he no longer has the slightest bit of strength in his body. Lugis' body is very heavy. His limbs were swaying in the air as if they were relaxed.

 But to Fialat, it was a comfortable weight.

 Truly, he never leaned on himself except at times like this. He would always try to step out on his own legs, as if he felt guilty about leaning on someone else. Normally, she never lets herself feel the weight of her body. That's why the weight of Lugis was strangely comforting to Fialaat.

"How about you, sorcerer - no, Fialaat, can you weave this fool's body?

"Yes, Caria. "Yes, Caria. Of course - with all my might.

 Fool. The words that spontaneously escaped Kalia's lips were, oddly enough, no different from Fialaert's thoughts about Lugis. I'm tempted to nod and say that's exactly right.

 He relied on us and pretended to share the danger, but in the end, he chose the path that caused him the most scars. I put my hand on his cheek. His cheek is scarred with many small scars, and his complexion is even drained of blood. Well, he must have lost a lot of blood. Not only that, but his shoulder and left arm, which showed large lacerations, would never be of use again. Probably every bone in his body must have creaked when he crashed from the second floor into the flesh beast.

 Really, what a stupid person. What a hateful person. I crawled my hand from my cheek to Lugis' heart and placed my hands directly on his skin.

 I am glad that he relied on me this time, my heart flutters and my cheeks relax. That fact alone makes me want to lean into him.

 But in the end, Lugis doesn't always ask me to hurt him, or us. He never asks us to bear the cost together.

 It's terrible, it's so terrible. If we're gonna be friends, if we're gonna be together, we owe it to each other to share the pain, the hurt, the suffering. You have a right. But Lugis keeps it all to himself. As if it would be okay if everything ended with her getting hurt and suffering.

 Oh, I would even love it if it was a wound given to me by you. I'd be proud of this chest. You are truly, truly a terrible person, Lugis. Fialaert's black hair swayed in the darkness of the night.

 She crawls her hands over his chest and presses them to his flesh, building a magic formula. My brain reminds me of something that happened once. The time when I cast him using the magic of the treasure sword in the underground temple of the heraldists. Fearless has never experienced such a stirring of the heart. Let it be manifested here once more. Let's recreate the scene of that day once again. What? It's easy. I have more magic than I can use.

 The crucible of magic that was supposed to be used to help Lugis. The light green pillar that still lights up the streets of Belle Fain. I'll use it all to restore Rougis. Let's put it all into weaving his body.

 It can't be spared. This magic power was originally intended for Lugis, and I will refine his body here again without any regrets.

 That is what I can do as his companion. Fialaat raises her eyebrows, her lips rippling as she thinks this. His gaze unconsciously turns to Kalia beside him for a moment.

 Kalia is a strong person. Surely her strength will make Lugis strong as well. Her mental state and martial prowess, the presence of a refined soul, will undoubtedly help raise Rougis. It's something I can't do.

 A being like myself, with a weak mind and soul, who can only rely on him, cannot possibly make him stronger. Whenever he is caught up in this thought, Fialaat feels a tightening pain in his chest. And he knew it would bring him to a very ugly point.

 So that's why. In the world of magic, in the world of demons, I am not going to lag behind anyone. Otherwise, I will lose my right to be by Lugis' side. I would have to give up the happiness of being with her.

 That's the only thing I can't allow. No matter what happens, absolutely.

 Then let me put all my magical talents into you. I'll do everything in my power to help Lugis.

 It's twisted. If you ask me if this feeling is healthy, there is no way I can honestly nod my head. I understood a long time ago that the emotions swirling in my heart are somehow distorted.

 But still, I reach out for it because it is hard to let go of, and I don't want to lose it. I do not wish for something, I do not pray for something. This hand, forward, forward.

 Fialaert's fingertips glow green. A dense swarm of magic. The demon, which by nature should have no will, begins to open its eyes at Fialaat's command.

 Lugis's wound is too deep. Then let magic replace the blood vessels and make them work. The strands will no longer be reunited. Then weave her body with threads of magic. The nerves are shredded and no longer connected. Then let's create a new organ.



 It was as if I was dreaming. A magic formula that should have been impossible, far more advanced than the restoration work done in the underground temple. A magical theory that was a dream itself. An act of immorality that seemed to be the making of man himself.

 Every time they appeared in Fialaert's mind and were written on the parchment of his skull, his fingertips would immediately put them into practice.

 As a sorcerer, there is no greater pleasure than this. As a sorcerer, there is no greater pleasure. And as an individual, there is no greater pleasure than refining Lugis with one's own hands.

 The magic stored in Belfain. A mass of magic that could vaporize an entire city. It's dwindling as I pour it into the fleshy beast, but I'll put it all into restoring him. The green in Fialaert's hand grows darker and denser.

 Fialaert heard a distorted sound ringing in his ears. An awful, treacherous, haunting sound. Fialaat's cheeks shook involuntarily.

 It must be the sound of a scar on his soul. Fialaat nodded his head deep in his chest, not understanding the logic or the cause and effect, but naturally thinking, "That's the way it is.

 Fialaat understood that he was doing something that he would never be able to take back. But even that was somewhat comforting now. Fialaat was even relieved that she was finally able to bear one wound for him.

 Then, at the moment when Fialaat's magic power had been exhausted and Lugis' whole body had been knitted with magic power.

 --Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of silver in the air. I'm not sure what to make of it.