Demon Lord Wants to Laze

My grandmother, who helped me in Corona, told me something useful.

The camp is nearby from the city, where a large number of young people are apparently captured.

It has been a long time since the subhuman lords and wives were captured.

Somehow, she lowered her head in tears.

That's what Dean Gant looks like.

We headed to the camp with the thoughts of the city's grandmother.

"Sir, that's the building where it's meant to be. It's not suitable for a beautiful landscape."

"Ho. There's no ash or sand around here, is there? Unlike the register."

"The role of the facility is different. He said it wasn't iron production, it was demonic crystals."

We scouted the camp from a distance as we salivated through our mouths.

Because the old lady is cheeky with the "seaweed sea urchin" she gave me.

Crushed the fruit named Ume and twirled its paste with seaweed.

It's sour and trembles lightly, but the unique taste keeps my hands from stopping.

"Alan. How's the security?

"Lyle. I'll take another one."

"Mm-hmm. I thought there were five watchmen. That's less than I thought."

"Could it have been a corona commotion that sent soldiers here?

"Lyle. Come with me."

"Maybe. Or maybe you're less assigned than you were. It's Gran Territory, so you're not counting on being attacked."

"Well, disable it anyway. Five pebbles is easy."

"Lyle. Come with me."

"You're eating too much! I'll lose my share!

"That's good. Don't lose it..."

"You're definitely losing the rest!

Before Elisia eats you up, put everything else in the demon king's mouth.

Then the saliva that pushes over.

The sourness burned my throat enough to cause cramps.

"Nwww! Nww!

"Oh, no. How luxurious."

"Ngaaaa!"

"Bye!"

"Ugh!"

Half a stone's throw to the frustrating eight.

So the five watchmen collapsed.

Now secure the entrance.

"Ha, ha. We're infiltrating. Follow me."

"Lyle. Let's stop by Corona on the way home. I'll take care of Grandma."

"My husband. Can't you get a little nervous?

The construction inside was not significantly different from that of the register rear.

Blowouts up to the third floor, which is the top floor.

There is a room divided between the two ends of the room, which is lined with surprises on all the floors.

Pack it up and you'll be able to hold hundreds, no, more than a thousand prisoners.

The floor below is probably a child.

Adults enough to go upstairs, or someone with power seems to be imprisoned.

What you hear is a grudge.

What a gloomy place I think.

When I was depressed by the excess darkness, a caged, clear voice of intent reached my ear that would break through it.

- Gloria, Gloria! Are you all right?

- Thelonious, I'm safe!

The prisoner's voice.

Thelonious to Gloria.

These two names are identical to the lords of Corona.

I guess we're pinching the iron lattice to see if they're cheap with each other.

"Sir, what do we do? You can't break a cell with your power, can you?

"No. Control comes first. It would be troublesome if the fleeing children were attacked by enemy soldiers."

"Then we'll continue to infiltrate. You don't have a lot of watch here either. He must be in the back."

There's a big door across the room.

There's probably a workplace or something.

The defensemen should be in a large number of workstations and stuffs.

We lurked our breath and proceeded.

The intrusive watch does the pebble with a guyne and renders it powerless.

- Gloria, how are you?

- Thelonious, I'm so blocked! What about you?

- This way, too! I didn't putrefy you!

A conversation that also flies across the universe during that time.

It's like I'm even searching by hand.

If it's going to happen, you'll want to talk face-to-face, but the situation doesn't even allow that.

Such mischief should be crushed as soon as possible.

- Gloria, how are you?

- Thelonious! I'm so proud of you!

- Gloria, me too! You look amazingly comfortable!

Loud.

Confirmation work.

Don't talk about passing in front of the people.

You don't even know it's harder to rule after you help?

"Well. If you open this door, it'll be a battle. You ready for this?

"Hey Lyle. How's your uncle?

"Let it go. Checking the cheap condition. Do I look sick to you?

"It's not cheap in itself. I just want to confirm your love. Look, listen to me, my fecal state."

"Yes, excuse me."

- Gakon.

Heavy noise like not wearing a body.

On the other side, it had become a miserable world.

A number of sub and beast men are trapped in small cages.

It's not five or ten.

In the center of the room is a melting furnace.

And the large device that comes with it.

Nearly a hundred soldiers surround them, watching over the work.

This doesn't even have a moment of respite.

I don't know what you're doing, but I'm sure it's no big deal.

We need to reduce the number of victims by one.

"Hey, what are you guys!

"Enemy! Get in line!

The soldiers in the room turned to us all at once.

An instantly lined formation of spear tips is formed.

It was just a little far-fetched, but probably not a problem.

"Mireia, let's go. Let me test your power."

I rocked my sheath and spoke to my sword.

Holy Sword Mireia.

Now it's a revelation of the famous sword and doings that the late Glenn struck.

Show me your brothers' souls!

"Let's go, Mireiaaaaa!

- Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!

A tremendous sword pressure arose the moment I let it go and paid off my sword.

The recoil is about to blow my body away, but it will hold up even as I step on it.

And a resounding scream.

That was an uncomfortable harmonious sound (harmony), as if a hundred or so people had screamed at the same time.

"... wow. Lyle, what did you do?

A mixed voice of amazement and fright.

Is that a praise or an accusation, something that gets lost in judgment?

"Sir. Shit. Add or subtract it. Even the prisoner died."

I blame this one for sure.

Is this my fault?

When I picked up the wooden stick, it was the legendary Kamiki. It was so feint.

"It's liberation anyway, don't tell me to bump it. Move your hand, Ola!

"Deceived. This demon king deceived me."

"Shut up, shut up! Just do it!

Elysia is in the cage, and Alan runs to the barn.

There's not a single shadow that can get in the way of that.

Really, enough to be pathetic.

We're all in two.

Fortunately, there doesn't seem to be any damage to the cage, so let's just say it's a good one this time.

"It's Mireia. Too much tension, you..."

I tapped the patterned area with pessili.

Then I feel so rattled and shaken unnecessarily.

What a sword, too scary!

Shouldn't we call it the Devil's Sword, not the Holy Sword?

Or a curse sword, you son of a bitch!