There is a limit to our patience in our hearts.
　No matter how strong and battered a person is, as long as he or she is a human being, there will always be a limit.
　And the problem is that even the person himself is not aware of the limits of his endurance.
　Unfortunately, it is not something that can be quantified and judged objectively like the status of a game.
　If we were to compare it to the water that fills up to the very edge of a glass, a small incident can cause it to fall out.
　Even if you take your eyes off the glass when you are pouring, or if you bump into someone, or even if you fall down by yourself, the water will easily spill out of the glass.
　In the same way, the limits of the human mind can also easily exceed the boiling point. It's really just a bit of timing.
　It's a condition commonly referred to as "losing your temper". Actions and words that we would never normally do or say are unconsciously overflowing out of us.
　And sometimes anger and frustration are easily transmitted to others.
　It's like a plague that invades people's minds.
　A beacon of malice and hatred that is spreading throughout the Roselia Kingdom.
　Now it is about to happen again in the Citadel of Ipyros.
　By the word of a man.

　Inside the walls of the citadel. The tavern stands quietly in a corner of the downtown on the outer edge of the city.　
　This place is not so rough as a slum, but it's a neighborhood where the poor, who are not rich, cuddle together.
　This tavern was a place that gave such poor people a brief dream in their days.　
　But now it is nothing more than a cesspool of malice and discontent.　
　That's right, since the time when many refugees appeared outside the city gates....

Ugh, you son of a b*tc*.

　The moans of men can be heard from everywhere in the restaurant.
　Normally, the place would be crowded with drunken patrons who are trying to relieve their daily fatigue, but today's voices are curses that bear no resemblance to the lively and cheerful atmosphere of the bar.
　Men lie here and there in the shop, their eyes full of dangerous colors that glitter and shine.
　Nearly a dozen women are busily running around in between them.

'Anna. I'm sorry, but can you find something to replace the bandages? And hot water. We don't have enough help in our shop. Go talk to the neighbors and bring me hot water. You go read the teacher. Hurry up!

　A well-dressed middle-aged woman calls out to the young woman standing stunned next to her, while tearing open the shirt of the man crouched on the floor.
　Although her hands are a bit dumber than those of her day job as a doctor, she must know how to handle these injured people due to her job as a bar hostess.
　The shirt fell to the floor with a sopping sound.
　I'm sure you'll find blood gushing out of the man's second arm in response to his heartbeat.

'It's gone to the artery it's going to hurt a little bit, but bear with me.

　The proprietress suppresses the base of the man's arms with her bright reddened hands with all her strength.
　She must have decided that she should control the amount of blood loss now, even if it means stopping the blood flow.　
　However, if he could stop the blood by doing that, he wouldn't need a doctor.
(Hardly a reaction...)
　The man's response is weak, despite the forceful pressure on the wound.
　His consciousness is muddled and his eyes have no power in them.

'Landlady ... is he?'

　The woman's hands, folded in prayer in front of her chest, are trembling in small increments.
　Perhaps she is aware that she is the cause of the commotion, but what comes to the woman's face is regret and guilt.　
　The blood drained from her face and large tears were in her eyes.

'Just get a grip. Your mumbling here won't change anything," he said. If you want to save this boy, you have to move fast!

　As she yells at the woman, who is still standing dumbfounded, the landlady desperately tries to stop the blood from flowing down the man's arm.　
　His heartbeat weakens, and with it, the blood spurting from the wound loses its momentum.
　It's a sign that the Grim Reaper is creeping beneath the man.

''Brother!''

　Suddenly, the door of the tavern was thrown open with great force and a young man jumped into the shop.
　All eyes were on the man.
　His face bore a striking resemblance to the man lying on the floor.

'Hey!　Where's your brother?

　The woman calls out to the man who looks around him as he stares around, fearfully.

''Alan I'm sorry...''　　

Janice...

　The moment he saw the woman's expression, Alan knew the whole situation.
　It was only a few days ago that Alan's girlfriend, Janice, began helping to cook and distribute supplies to the refugees.　
　It is said that Count Salzberg is not very tolerant of the commoners, but the prolonged war and the recent refugee crisis have forced him to take a heavy hand in front of the northern ten families.
　In the wake of the protracted war and the recent turmoil in the north, the ten northern families had no choice but to take a heavy hand in the fight against the refugees, and Baron Mikoshiba's army was losing momentum.
　There was no way they could adequately care for all of the people, but they were now distributing food and bedding twice a day.
　To do this, Janice started working in exchange for a small amount of labor. She shook off the people around her to stop her.
　Alan stood there, his fists clenched tightly.
(This sucks ... I was worried this was going to happen ... I should have stopped Janice at all costs.)
　The people around her stopped Janice for a good reason, of course.
　Separation from the refugees.
　Complaints about food and water allocations.
　The list of reasons is endless, but the biggest problem among them is the deteriorating security situation in Ipylos.
　Crowds of people pour in from all over northern Roseria. It is difficult to accommodate all of them, no matter how famous the citadel is, even in Iphiroth.
　Most of the people have fled with their clothes on, and it is difficult to find accommodations or houses to rent. Inevitably, many refugees will not be able to afford a roof over their heads.
　Inevitably, they huddle together in the darkness of the alley. They are concentrated in the favelas, where it is difficult for knights to reach.
　It's quite natural that there was friction between the residents of the favela and the refugees.
　A lack of vision for their own future.
　An unending hunger and thirst.
　The anger of people who are not helped by society.
　These negative emotions turn them from ordinary farmers living in their hometowns into demons.
　To be honest, Alan doesn't know what the initial quarrel was about. No, even the proprietress of this tavern, who was known to be a well-informed person, did not seem to be in possession of any solid information, and no one thought to investigate.
　However, the hostility between the two sides became clearly visible when both sides clashed over the use of a certain watering hole.
　Which side would use it first.
　In the beginning, the confrontation was nothing more than a quarrel between women who came to fetch water, but in the blink of an eye, hostility flared up and eventually developed into a commotion that resulted in nearly dozens of injuries on both sides and was put down by the knights.
　It's a good idea to have a good time with your friends.
　I'm sure you'll be able to find the best way to get the best out of it.
　But once you've clashed with them, the hostility that's poured out ignores such natural logic and spreads the malice.
　And when they can no longer recognize the other party as a person, the result is always the same.
　It was just a few minutes ago.
　A young refugee approached Janice on her way home from work.
　Whether he simply wanted to thank Janice for working for him or if he had an ulterior motive for doing so is impossible to ascertain now.
　The problem is that a young refugee stopped Janice as she walked through an alleyway.
　And the scene happened to be witnessed by a group of favelas who happened to be pretending to be vigilantes.
　It wasn't good that Janice was beautiful enough to make the town's youths long for her.
　What started out as a simple warning to them, escalated into a brawl with the townspeople and refugees who were watching.
　And now, Alan's brother, who had been stabbed in the abdomen by someone in the middle of the brawl, was coming to the end of his time.

'Brother, it's me. Can you hear me?　Hey!

　Alan's strength slips from the man's hand in which he holds it.
　He desperately shakes his shoulder and shouts in his ear, but there is no answer.

'Hey, brother!　Brother!

　Alan's desperate pleas were vain, and the breath of the man lying on the floor disappeared in a snatch.
　Everyone stared in silence at Alan, who was huddled beside his brother, his shoulders shaking.
　How long did the silence last?

''I can't stand it any longer!　I'll kill you for this!　They all look like they own the place.　My lord is my lord, too. Why do we have to put up with this?

　A man's blood-curdling cry echoes through the tavern.
　It is the wail of a people living in Ipylos.
　And it was the horn that signaled the final phase of this series of battles.