Having first hit a tough land pattern called Trent, the journey went rather well after that.

The coarse minister of the samurai was unexpected, but the issues related to the escort of conservatives like Henri originally were a major concern of the journey. With that in mind, I can say that I'm fortunate to have done so far as I can handle it on this side.

Above all, Berta, who succeeded in taking a tense from Harold at the beginning of his journey, was able to avoid the stress of clashing with his proximity by advising him.

It was dangerous this time, but it seems that people like that use it too.

Didn't you do well for it? and Berta praised herself for her inner self, but of course one of the attempts to fall horses naturally passed on to the samurai, and she was pissed off at the lump.

I was dutifully stabbed with a nail so that I wouldn't be impotent about forgetting my powers, and that is certainly a great reflection.

The largest city in the south, Meseta, in a row of eyes familiar with the beautiful tidy streets of the north, appeared in a city of clutter and obscenity.

Robust stone protective walls surrounding the residential area softly.

The giant ancient castle, which should have been in the heart of the city, has not been rebuilt since it was burned down hundreds of years ago by an invasion from heathens across the sea.

And unlike any other city, the site of the castle is open to residents as a square.

"In the morning the city will stand in the central square. All city festivals and major events take place in this square."

It was stated on the schedule that a welcoming ceremony would be held for the king and the queen, but when the two carriages and the frivolous escort knights arrived at the square, the city's general public had already packed it into the square in a narrow place.

Berta smiles at Harold's gaze for an explanation of the city. Though they were not interested to hear such tourist information now.

"Your Highness… how shall we do it?"

An anxious man asked Berta for help directly.

There are too many people to carry on with the carriage.

"Proceed slowly, no matter. Because the people are used to avoiding it. You can take the carriage up to the center stage."

At the end of the square, where the people could overflow in clutter, I could see a place as wide as there was a hole in it.

Those who are there are dressed and courteously kneeling. It would be the clan of Kasha, the Taisho of this city.

Had it not been for the horseback riding escorting beside the carriage, the hand that the cheering people would have reached this way would have reached the carriage directly. That was as much enthusiasm.

Every carriage enters the bustling square of the ancient arena and is even silenced by the terrific hustle and bustle.

I guess they're welcome because the look on each of them smiles, but I don't know what it is.

Harold is a monarch with constant support from the people. The popularity from the people of the King's capital is also higher than that of the kings of history. But they never turned this much heat on me.

This is the very relationship that the Kasha clan has built with its people from generation to generation.

The way of the ancient city of Meseta welcomed King Harold that day with enough heat to shock its values.

The princess of Kasha, Harold as a man with Berta as his wife.

When we arrived near the centre of the square, nature and the voice of the citizens became far smaller.

A bunch of dresses kneeling in the center stand up and face up at the same time as this one approaches.

All of them meet royalty for the first time, besides those who were the lords of the clan. Berta eared softly at Harold.

"The big, flashy man in the center is my father, and the skinny woman next to him is my mother, the First Lady"

Her terminal explanation was appreciated, but Harold put a grin on the face directed at them, so it was best.

The inedible man who has plagued the centre for years, the head of Kasha, the father of Berta.

He said he imagined an older, more golden figure, but the actual Kasha principals were just a big beauty to behold with the actors.

He uttered a beautiful voice that often passed by, worthy of its appearance, in a play-handed audience.

"Welcome. His Majesty the Sixth King Aust. Your Majesty has today repainted the history of this country and our city with your presence."

Even though he never shouted, his voice had the power to tremble and make the air around him hear in. This is Kasha, the allied lord, whom all the people of the untouched south can only see at a glance.

"On this wonderful sunny day, in despicable customs I am afraid, but let the local wind replace the welcome with a hymn from our people"

"Oh. Forgive"

"Thank you Happiness"

Kasha's lord slowly woke himself up after he had sincerely dripped like this, and waved one hand up loudly.

A bell rang once throughout the square, and the great chorus of the assembled citizens began.

It's a simple, beautiful investigation, like folk music. I guess it's a natural song for people in this region, like everyone can sing naturally, not like they practiced very much for today.

- Come on, brothers. Time has come.

The great chorus of citizens throughout the square is launched towards the central stage, and the sky seems to crack. The force is too great to be overwhelmed just standing.

- Our proud people.

- Oh, my freedom. I'm not risking my life to protect you.

In the center of the square the Kasha clan mumbles with the people, as they are accustomed to.

Harold saw his body shake like even Berta said it was probably unconscious.

It is an anti-war song of hope for peace, which has been sung since the days of pagan invasion, its long and tragic war, which began suddenly hundreds of years ago.

Later, it became a ceremony, a wedding, and a celebration song that I would never hear in various places.

A song engraved on the soul of the people of the South, Harold still didn't know at this time, he just asked to examine the border.