When I heard that my sister, who split the blood, was suddenly getting married, it was a blatant reminder that oh yeah.
When that sister disappears neglectfully from sight, Orha is a voiceless little groan...... like an unconventional child emits to the irrationality of the world that happens well in proportion, "Huh? He voiced a little anger."
"What the fuck?"
It was supposed to be a sunny day for my sister.
In Orha's brain, which ran out almost unconsciously, there was an early reflection of where things had gone to get here. Together with my father, he remembered the powerful men of the state capital, and the sweat that I scratched when I repeated my words of thanks many times.
Have you lost your home?
The inexplicable death of Tuhou (Severo) Gandar, the patrol envoy who was staying in the village, on the night when there was a night raid by the subhuman.
Before I could turn the blame on him, and when my father and I went to Baltavia, the capital of the province, to throw and root for less money, my sister Jose's engagements descended and lifted up like a boil.
It was a fringe determined by the lightness of exchanging things, but at times it was the person who was hoped for, and even as he was bewildered by the way things were done, his father Vegin decided to take the offer. For the Moroccans who wanted the fire extinguished, it was no longer a story of a muscle they could turn down.
For Jose, who was only the daughter of a small lord on the side of the earth, it was also an irresistible 'jade', but to be honest, Father looked bitter, and from Orha's eyes, I didn't think that the connection would make my sister happy, etc.
My sister Jose was somehow rumored to be one of the best beauty princesses in the state capital. Apparently, the reason for this was that the late patrol envoy found a "beautiful silver princess to smell" from the village of Rag where he stayed, which he wrote in a sentence addressed to Uncle Bedou. That color-insane patrol envoy, who was surprisingly a brush, was dressed up as ironically as if he had taken care of both houses.
After that, the village of Rag was subjected to a great invasion by the subpeople, who made a great face for it by bouncing it back brilliantly. Now we can even talk about a grace award, and the bond between my sister Jose, who was treated like a nuisance fee, suddenly turned into something that put her back in the name of the Uncle House.
My father seemed to stand around in a subsequent discussion with Uncle Horizontal to keep his family informed, but this fringe between letting him marry Lord Horizontal and his son was a tremendous opportunity for Uncle Horizontal to show the appearance of his uncle, "Live with the Lords of Horizontal Territory," and the covenants between the two houses seemed to be deliberately leaked because no door could be set up in the mouth of men, to the knowledge of quite a few Lords. It was such a dumb story that my brother, the brother of the party, was bewitched by other lords who were state capitals to do so.
Instead of letting the prized beauty princess into the Uncle's house, the Moroccans said, promises were exchanged to rebuild the abandoned village, which had to be abandoned because of the subhuman harm, with the help of soldiers.
In fact, there were even those who said that the Moroccans would be duked by the earthly marquis after obtaining an unambiguous dominion, and at that time they just ate bubbles.
Of course, the Spirit of 'Aidaren' held by Jose...... the precious Spirit passed on to our house was temporarily deposited in the House of the Uncle, and after his death (...) a partition was also given back to the House of Moloch, and his father's bargaining skills as lord were not there.
In the peripheral soil where the land continues to dwindle and the people continue to dwindle, it can be said that it was a generous' grace 'to envy.
That's why this happened.
My sister's sunshine, which I just dropped off, is nowhere else now.
"Jose!"
Slightly late for Olha, who scratched people out, the family of the Hurried Varma family also flooded out of refrain. The liquor and food that had been prepared were kicked and scattered violently.
The Great Spirit Temple, which was the banquet venue, was engulfed in an angelic noise. The risen lords are all about to float their neighborhoods to the surface and flock to the altar of 'Baal Retriga'. In the front row of the guests is the figure of the suffering ambassador, assisted by the ministers, and the guards of the house of the uncle, who had been included, are coming in with early instructions from his mouth.
Between the refrains where Orha was, he was closer to the altar than such a crowd, and could reach below the altar without even fitting as many obstacles as the result. I guess there he still responded quickly to the situation as a family of the party. My father was dyeing his face to Zhu, and I could see a red-haired lady with one small head assembled with her hips low in an attempt to stop that rush. He was "Red Jade Sword" Luft Gala, lord of the city of Sai of "Five Years Old (Sinquesta)", who played a service match with his father Vegin.
Why Father must be stopped...... It was as if he did not know why to interrupt that parent's desire to rush to the crisis of his daughter, and Orha flashed into anger in an instant.
Acknowledging Olha's appearance, who had changed his blood phase and rushed over, his father Vezin shook his face so red that his blood vessels emerged that he didn't need help, he just urged him to "go".
And Orha tried to attach it to the altar... although he was relatively close to the altar, those who had already lined up even closer than that were making hedges, and a group of working monks held Orha back as he approached him.
"Out of the way, no!
"Then no!
"Don't let him go!
"Master Kwon Sang-du's in the way!
I unconsciously explore the area of my hips and remind myself that I am incompetent. Even as he strikes his tongue, Orha releases the 'protective holding' power and tries to push it through at his disposal. The hands of the monks, trying to hold it down by a few, grabbed Orha's clothes from all sides.
Every time there was no tattoo... it was Orha, who took one hand by force, but the power of the monks, who had no spare time for training in the "Monastery," was insulting, and after being sharply paid his feet, he was so light that he wanted to mourn my fuzziness that he was pushed into them, which was better than the number of people.
My God, Eugsina, the land god in the village of Elg, who had shown "Three Ages (Torres)," had been dehumanized since he was "cursed" by those Grey Monkeys (Makak) and others. Orha, of course, was aware that my neighborhood had changed its shape and reduced the number of prints. Even the "Gate of Trial" in the state castle slipped his cock, but he couldn't refuse to admit it.
Even if I understood it in my head, it was truly horrible to realize that the amount of violence that could actually be wielded had clearly decreased in this way.
When it was "Three Years Old (Torres)," what a body it would have been if it had been lifted with ease by one or both hands. Seeing how he was held down without a hand, what an indescribable bitterness appeared on the face of his father Vezin, whose eyes were directed toward the altar where Jose's figure had been lost.
Orha perceived what his gaze was about to say, and yet he resisted the monks with all his dying power, but having developed martial arts, they were shrugging about how a man's body could exert its power, and they were skillfully scattered.
My spine's shaking.
My father let me down.
Orha had his teeth stirred.
What does my father's eye do now... whose activity does it take (...)? I'm pretty sure there was one idiot who jumped in after my sister.
Shinji is... shelled (...), even though it's only half the way that the neighborhood can't even reveal yet. Why is Father expecting this?
If you turn your neck motionless, the monks who are holding me back are swapping words overhead. They don't even look so anxious about this situation, and they say something like a difficult philosophical question. It was the high priest in the headscarf peeking inside against the edge of the altar, a little high from there, that stopped the rhetoric.
With that instruction and a hand gesture, some of the monks are rushing out. The neighborhood was clearly floating in the eye of the high priest's slightly visible headscarf.
Kwon Sang-du.
He was a high priest sent by the Grand Monastery at the invitation of the Uncle House to perform the service of the feast. Perhaps on this occasion, the person who would be able to make a reciprocal offer even to Himself in form alone could still manipulate the "Hundred Eyes," which the Truth Explorer, who had been visiting the village the other day, seemed to be focusing on his technique while gazing at the holes nodded at the altar.
A long rope brought back by the monk who ran for the maneuver is quickly dropped into the hole, and the side at hand is tied to one of the statues of God in a collaborative effort. Knowing that Kwon Sang-du was about to dive into the hole, Orha raised her voice. I don't know what's waiting for me in the hole. I shouted to the best of my voice over and over that a powerful 'guardian' should accompany me if I were to take the offering.
Orha found a faint hope in Kwon Sangdu, who saw this one... a large number of guards who had been pushed to collapse and stand before it badly deprived of Orha's limited vision. Numerous legs step on his body and fall in.
There was no way to fight the pushing Lords of the Horizon, and the guards' walls broke down. The anger of the Lords and the "protectors" approaches like a great wave.
Orha, whose commandments were broken by the monks' loss of room and who managed to get out of people's feet, crawled desperately attaching to the altar, scratching out the disturbing crowd. I was self-absorbed to prove that I was not incompetent.
At last, he rode his torso out onto the edge of the altar, about five yul high, and it was precisely at that time that a clearly audible voice rose up in the platitudes of the Great Spirit Temple, which was an disorderly crucible (Rutsubo). It was a miracle that happened because similar words were spewed out of many mouths at the same time.
"Uncle Tomorrow!
"Dear Uncle Hou!
Orha felt the wind blow away beside her, clinging to the altar.
There was a slight barefoot sound and I noticed that someone climbed up my side. Orha, who looked up so that he could be followed, saw the figure of the monks of Kwon, who were looking up as if they had been taken lightly there, and on top of it all the more… he saw a man, standing exactly at the foot of the giant statue of 'Baal Retriga', further up the altar.
The person slowly hoisted his hands up, like he was drunk about something flooding out of his whole body.
The person was Bulter Tubor.
Its body glistened like it was wrapped in some divine divinity, and I saw its dead branchy hands and feet, which should have been plugging into old age, thickening as it glistened and swelled. When it was known that it was a steel-like muscle, Orha lost the word again, just like many of the 'sheltered' ones.
The great temple, where the noise was rapidly subsiding, was obsessed with the laughter emitted by Baltarabe. Orha couldn't help but tremble at its madness and papery laughter, which seemed strange from the bottom of her heart.
"O ancestral spirit! Bring back the light of the descendants, see!
On the cheek, something hit Piscilli.
Hot, and thickly dripping, I realized that was Shizuku, a nosebleed that was flooding out of Uncle Kaito's nose.
"Peace be upon the Great Soil! If you want to pour the glory of my Baltar to the north side!
And the people boiled down.
As if they had already forgotten about the disappearance of their last sister, the lords, the guards, called out the name of Uncle Bejitu. Swallow people while they are manic.
The divine imprint that floated on the face of Uncle Bejitu… The divine imprint of the Lord of the House, who had several opportunities to see it in the fold of the battle, was also in Orha's memory.
Because he looked familiar, Orha was shaking his heart heavily at that of Uncle Kaito, whom he still sees.
The print showing its surprising density was completely unrememorable.
It's like that.
(King's crest...)
The only tattoo I've ever heard of in a bedtime story is the Tattoo of Mightiness...... I thought it might be like The King's Tattoo (Woolay).
Among the millions of people, there is only one 'sheltered' with its divine crest.
"My Balter will not reach the heavens here!
Orha had no choice but to keep staring at the sight as she looked.
That was exactly what would have been a major milestone for the world to change.