All Affirmative Slave Girls: Ten Minutes a Time 1000 Lynn

How bad was the worst decade of the Empire?

One common tragedy is mentioned in events of historical significance that are told as episodes that should never be allowed when stringing historical facts together.

Says the first tragedy of the collapse of the Herbarian Empire took place in a small village,.

The girl's hands and feet were crushed.

What is eating up on the girl is a disappointing dove rat. They find their first treat in a long time, poking their front teeth unconsciously and muddling their meat.

He just thought the rat had escaped or been wiped out a long time ago, but he still had it. The girl who was eating her body thought of that as if it were every other person.

She reached out softly. I didn't try to get rid of the rats. I tried to catch him. I caught him and tried to eat him.

But the handsome rat quickly disappears. Rats are much better than she is now. Once he was a rat who escaped into a wall hole, but when he found out that the girl didn't have the strength to move into the slow motion that ended in emptiness, he gathered again and began to mumble the meat with his bobbing and rodent specific front teeth.

Oh, you look delicious eating. I'm jealous.

Seeing the dining landscape, I just thought I was crazy and laughed.

I wonder why I'm still alive, and she thinks blurry and doesn't care.

Her father continued to preach his teachings in the village where he was born. I believed in human goodness. Even the people of this village should have been devout. Believing in God's love, in the love of his neighbour, the small society was supported by the cause of peace and justice.

The girl, who is part of the village, liked her father. I apprenticed my father, who was a priest, and became a nun. He was also proud when he gave his name to God after his baptism and was named after a pinch of grace.

As a member of this village, let's support a small church with my father. She had no doubt whatsoever and believed in the future to follow. I thought it was a long way off, even if the emperor took his place and his public opinion changed slightly. I just thought it was unrelated to a small village on the outskirts of the country.

There was a mobilisation decree for young people. Anything, they needed manpower for urban development.

New to the throne, two years and a little. Not only here, the young people of the village were many conjured up in urban areas. The village's storage was taken at the same time. The servitude was in exchange for some money and tax deductions. Well, I was convinced I'd give you the money.

I was exposed to the sun that year.

It didn't rain. In the six months of spring and summer, how many times did it rain? Don't manage to eat in the stockpiles that were stored in the village, it was autumn and food was taken in taxes. There was to have been no talk of tax relief in lieu of labour. That was the limit.

There was nothing left in the village but the water obtained from the well. No, there was only money. When I went out to buy food in town, he said that wheat was incredibly priced and that I could finally buy only half a bag by wearing village gold.

The village chief who went to the buyout told the fact honestly and bowed his head, and died slapping him not to joke from the murderous villagers.

Then, the village changed decisively.

Was it good or bad that the water in the well did not wither? Instead, the girl thinks it would have been better if she hadn't just died.

Without water, he dies in three days, but with water, people can live for months with even a small amount of food.

The suffering stretched thinly and lasted a long time.

It was time for the villagers to fade away and turn to look like skins snapping into bones.

With the Divine Book in one hand, he was stabbed to death, being blamed for speaking of God and having no help against hunger, and being perceived as making no sense, such as some secrets. There was so much going on. If that was the end of it, I was rather happy.

I saw the body, someone said.

Meat.

Everyone was hungry, and he was always hungry.

So my father's body was never even daunted.

That was the back of a man's faith.

A man could kill a man with hunger. People tried to live by eating someone they killed. It justified, though lost, the nasty things that you should think would have been better if you had died at normal times.

The hunger that annoyed me was better than the faith of men, than the goodness of men, than the malice of men. Hunger prevailed over faith and ethics that should have built up at the end of every emotion and reason, history and teaching, experience and pain.

The next time my father was shaved to the bone marrow, she was the priest's daughter.

He cut off one leg so that he could not escape, and he was offered a rope. Bleeding and flowing out of the wound was a blood drain replacement. Someone told me that when I died, I would splurge them all before they rotted, and that my hunger was filled and my blood color improved.

Was it salvation or despair? Apparently, the wilderness rope that held her up was rotten, and within half an hour of her hanging, she chopped a thousand pieces and was thrown to the floor. I was desperate and used a thousand chopped ropes to tie them to my foot wound for a blood stop, and the girl managed to survive. I don't know what to do with survival. It was scheduled to be dismantled tomorrow morning. With the night fading, it wasn't long before the sun rose.

In a situation where there was nothing I could do, the girl did not despair.

Because.

"Ahhh..."

My stomach was starving.

I was so hungry that I didn't care about getting my wound muffed. A hunger that I can be sure must starve to death by dawn was superior to the pain of wounds and blood-loss fallout that would have led to death without waiting for dawn. Even the anger and sorrow that killed my father drowned me in hell's thirst to breathe.

I was hungry.

I was thirsty.

There was nothing but famine.

She now knows exactly how the villagers feel.

If we are to satisfy this hunger, if we are to quench this thirst, people will do anything. Their actions are the result of nothing they can do. The pious girl now knows with her own hands.

People are hungry, they never win.

The villagers who filled this hunger with meat were jealous. I was jealous of the villagers who moistened this thirst with blood. Anything was fine. Whatever, I wanted to put something in my mouth.

Nothing she can do, she explores the floor with her hands. There can't be any food. You can't even catch a rat.

Even so, there was something that hit my fingertips.

"... ah"

There was bread.

It was a small shard. Gripping what she had searched for, she laughed. The slightly pulled movement in her mouth was the grin she could now float.

The bread in your hand, in your mouth.

Strangely enough, that didn't stop biting or chewing. This must be a miracle brought on by God, her mouth bursting.

The girl gently closes her eyes as she mourns a slice of the miracle bread.

Hungry, thirsty. Her life expectancy, which was supposed to die without waiting for dawn, was then slightly extended. I'm sure by the time the morning sun rose, I'd have managed not to die.

What was remembered behind closed eyelids was a passage of the Divine Book that had been read and heard on a daily basis.

"Let us have more of you, Aye and Kashan."

Hungry, filled. The girl rebelled against the memorable divine scripture, mocking the strange pieces of bread.

"Shifu, behold, as he came, was dusted, and one was stiff, and with this one, the scalp, he was there."

Quiet, quiet, the girl scratches the scriptural wording.

Dream that such a terrible world must be a lie.

"Nothing, nothing"

It was the peaceful world that wanted and the girl who sought prayed.

And then the night dawned.