Magical Device Craftsman Dahlia Won’t Hang Her Head Down Anymore

145 144. A Magic Instructor Named Darya

After turning around the crew and checking, Grate finally lowered his hips on a waterproof cloth near the fire.

The deputy captain, who was with me at first, is colluding a little bit away from the man at the Rossetti Chamber of Commerce. Out of the blue, maybe the horses fit.

"Captain Grate, go ahead."

Recommended by a knight with gray hair, he held a black bread stabbed in the skewer.

Intense cheesy aroma standing in front of you.

If I sank black bread in the milky white liquid of the pan, it would have tasted irresistible, combined with its salt gas.

In the next frying pan, ham eggs are raised.

Smoked bacon was good too, but cheap ham and just roasted eyeballs, salted and spiced there, is oddly good.

The president of the Rossetti Chamber of Commerce said the day before this trial expedition, he had made something that would be a 'egg case' on the outer skin of a desert worm (dessert worm) and had brought it there with the granting of anti-corruption.

I should have called you today to explain the expedition stove, but after the greeting, the first topic was chicken eggs.

'This egg case, it's light, and it folds!' I accidentally laughed at her, explaining with pleasure.

I never even thought about taking a fragile chicken egg on an expedition.

With the current squad, we can afford to add one carriage. Depending on the destination, it is also possible to procure eggs in villages, etc. Depending on the location of the expedition, there will also be this.

While tasting a much evolved expedition meal, the wine drinking from the leather bag smudged my stomach (fu).

If you noticed, the next knight also lay down his eyes and drank wine silently.

When we both just got in, the seniors in the squad used to ask me.

When I was younger, he said I couldn't even drink water freely.

He asked for water for his thirst and said he had a companion who had fallen to Zelig and died.

On the return of a long expedition, he said he had a fellow who had fallen into the heat.

Thanks to the steady supply of demonic stones of water, I was finally told to hang up on the water.

But even as we became known as' seniors', the team's environment was terrible.

There were companions who suffered illness from unsuitable meals and hot and cold weather and left the squad.

There were few magicians or priests to follow on the expedition. Repentantly, I had a companion who dropped me off on an expedition.

Magicians join the battle too, if you can't afford it, you can't want water magic, fire magic, etc.

Warm meals, quiet sleep, drying wet bodies - the everyday commonplace was a long way off on the expedition.

Even when the former captain offered to improve the environment, it was not fragrant.

All the damage done to the embezzlement a few generations ago and the demons that I had let go was returned to my voice.

Since he became captain, Grato mobilized the power of the Marquis family in total, securing the quantity of food, increasing the number of magicians and clerics, and preparing horses and carriages for expeditions.

Personnel and budgets sticked to each meeting and took as long as they could.

And fewer dead and injured in demonic crusades than before.

There was a compliment from the king about it. The aristocratic appreciation of the grate also rose.

Still, I wasn't happy.

The dead and injured in the expedition are not gone.

Every time I go to my men's funeral as head of the Demon Crusade Unit, I get the urge to beat myself up.

I live desperately with demons.

It's a struggle between people and demons and survival. It would be difficult to say that only people are intact.

I want to avoid losing my life fighting demons, but still, if you're fighting as a knight, you can still swallow.

But it is all too regrettable that the cause is due to water, food, insomnia or lack of concentration in the cold and heat.

The anger that couldn't set the environment up for him always turned on me.

I've had my stomach blown and my blood thrown up during the expedition, and I've lost my sleigh and hair when I removed my helmet.

When I wrote letters to the bereaved family, my fingernails were always stabbed in the palms and blood stained them.

On days like crawling around cloudy sunsets, I couldn't see ahead.

One day I thought I'd changed.

Thanks to my waterproof cloth tent, I can rest without worrying about the rain.

Sleep on a waterproof cloth and the water from the ground will not rise. My clothes are damp and my body doesn't get cold.

The front of the carriage, made of waterproof cloth, helped me travel on rainy days. I also appreciated the transfer of the sick and injured. Equipment and food are no longer available.

Thanks to the raincoat, the march was quicker even on rainy days and the distance travelled was earned. Fewer people also suffered from wet bodies, and there were significantly fewer crew members who fell ill from the cold.

I still laugh at the shaping of my five-finger socks every time I wear them.

However, the itching of the troubled toes disappeared and the stomping became more favorable when waving the sword.

The stickiness in the shoes, which was uncomfortable, disappears thanks to the inner laying, and is accentuated both on rainy and summer days.

How far is the concentration different that you should not be aware of underfoot? This will only be known by those who walk long on the ground with poor scaffolding.

And now, it's wrapped around my neck, a breeze cloth (Auratello).

Next summer, I guess the sweat will no longer flow like a waterfall through the inside of the armor. The heat is likely to reduce the number of sleepless expedition nights.

It was a friend I couldn't talk to for a long time who secured me a budget for the breeze cloth (Auratello) for the next semester.

The wine we hadn't had in a long time was too good and my wife scolded me for drinking until morning.

It was one young magician who gave me everything I thought back and connected me to my friends.

That seemed strange and lowered the leather bag of wine.

Under the blue sky, a strong river breeze blows through the last heat of summer.

Still, the heat on the small magic conductor stove in front of you doesn't loosen up a bit. Only the hot air from the vegetable soup flows into the wind.

To the mundane discomfort, Grate cleared her ears.

The sound is different from the usual expedition.

The slightly higher laughter of the young crew, the soft voice of the colluding crew, the voices of the men toasting even though they are leather bags.

Listening to them, which resembled sagging, there was finally something coming in the back of his nose.

"It's all a battle during an expedition, it's like there's no time to live."

That's what I said, my predecessor's Demon Crusade Squad Leader.

But there's definitely time here for the crew to live.

Even if it's not as good as today, from the next expedition, you'll get a little, a little time back alive.

"Dear Grate, how about a boned sausage?

"... oh, let's have it"

The voice of an unexpected woman was soaked with tears.

In front of him, Dalya had brought a plate of ingredients with Wolfe.

"Um, didn't it suit your mouth?

"No, it's good once in a while. There was just a little smoke in my eyes."

"Ah! I figured it would be better if there wasn't more smoke... because I would make improvements"

"Never mind, the smoke's a bonfire over there"

Apparently Dahliya appeased to the reply, laughing defenselessly.

In the small magic guide stove in front of me, Wolfe is starting to bake the boned sausage quickly. It's something I'm really used to.

"One of these stoves can cook a lot of different dishes."

"I'm just putting together an extra recipe right now. Expedition, would you still prefer something with a short cooking time?

"Oh. And then you'd be happy to go with the booze."

"That might also be a good menu for dishes. Will the rest be sunny..."

To a woman who seriously remembers in front of her, Grate laughed more than tears.

There is a distance to the bonfire and there is no smudging in the eyes here.

He's honestly thinking straight away about what he said in his misery.

Shouldn't we wear something a little more suspicious or intentional?

The more I want to worry about that, the more straightforward and always hard this guy is.

A magician named Darya.

Red hair when burning in the morning. Green eyes reminiscent of the new green forest.

Stand tall and try to save everything you can reach.

I see, indeed, this man is the great wheel of summer.

It brightened my mind, lost in cloudy weather, as much as this blue sky.

"Keep it up, please. Demon Advisor of the Demon Crusade Corps (of which)"