Dungeon Defense (WN)

“ ……. ”

Recently, there have been increasing incidences of indistinguishability between waking and sleeping.

Not long ago, I didn't remember what I was doing. The bribe seemed to have turned into gasoline. Even if you want to leave something behind, it will soon be forgotten. Should I call it a long leg, or even a mess.

The sensation of walking in a dream.

Sense of exposure to the violence of dreams.

According to one theory, the human sense of time eventually stems from survival instinct.

Some people spent as much time starving when they were at risk of death. The trucks are coming at us very slowly. The speed at which each brick drops feels different as the building collapses. One moment stretched like a flicker. At the moment of contact with the crisis, the brain was searching past memories for information that would help it survive in any way.

What if it's the opposite?

This body is no longer promising to die.

What happens when such a judgment is firmly established?

I don't take any nutrients Alcohol is the only thing that enters the gut. It also stops the lowest performance to maintain muscles and exercises that are indispensable for digestion. The body's movement is extremely debilitating and is closer to suspended state.

But you don't die.

I continue to live despite doing very little activity.

At this point, the brain might think of the situation as a dream.

Past monks deliberately went on extreme fasts to gain enlightenment. You weaken their vitality. They look at the dead wall in the cave, and they see the interstellar wall open to both sides, endless expansion of the sea.

It was a living dream.

Maybe this is why I'm suffering from hallucinations and hallucinations.

I was originally human. I lived with human rhythm and senses. However, after becoming the Demon King, I gradually reduced my food intake and sleep. At some point, I lost my food and sleep.

Half in a dream.

Even the smallest social life had disappeared until now, when my consciousness did not completely distinguish between reality and illusion. It's like a constant realization. As a patient, I thought of a monk who had the disease and carried it out with him.

“Unlike my father, I'm an ordinary human being. ”

That's right.

Daisy was right. Daisy is clever. She's too clever to notice the drawbacks of Dantalian. You eavesdrop on Dantalian's sleep and reveal the truth. However, Dantalian was like a measles during the transformation of only one human into a Demon King. Dantalian was the name of a disease.

I went too far to get back to being human.

I've come too far to be the Demon King.

That's why the disease.

A malignant tumor that bitterly eats the host from its parasite.

Daisy snores and turns her eyes to the book. Chic gestures are cute. I felt like a cool city girl. It was a perfect act to see who she looked like. Bravo, ChechBong. I accidentally clapped my hands.

What do you think of our beautiful daughter?

“I followed a virgin to you, you bastard! ”

Barbato shouts. It feels unfair. My face is red with shame and shame.

I'm sorry, but I honestly don't think so.

Barbatos. You just didn't fuck a man. You're a foreigner of a pervert who's been frustrated with everything he couldn't do for thousands of years. Now, it is a cowardly shamelessness to come and carry virginity. What's so different between a man and a woman?

“Then why are you bothering me? ”

Citri tilts her head adorably.

“Of course it's better to have both than just one.... ”

Oh, that's how it came out.

Number-based logic has always been powerful. There is only one virgin for men. There is only one virgin for women. Double the pain, double the pleasure. Of course, they were better than one. 1 +1 event. It was a Basgensale of impact.

But how about double the bleeding?

Overlaps the bleeding. Any wound must be struck twice, and the double vein must be pierced and the blood must be shed. Is that good enough for you? As the last remaining conscience of the modern society, I question the condition of shouting "double good."

Laura shakes her head.

“The girl wants the Lord to live that way until the last moment. ”

Bagensale to the very last moment!

It feels like you're selling it as a trench to clear out the obstacles!

Laura was tough. The dimension of thought was different from the unsub. It was the bride who suggested we both go to hell together. The girl I've been watching. This is what a Rising General deserves.

How does it feel to sell all your products for a cheap price to survive? You must be devastated. However, if I insisted on my price, I had to hug bad stock and perish.

I had no choice. Sorry, Laura. I've already lost my sense of price. But it's better than a suicide. Maybe we can at least live.

“The original plaintiff is richer than you. ”

It was useless to Ivar Lodbroke, the most bourgeois of all.

Ivar glances this way with hesitant eyes. The girl in my arms was so shrunk my shoulders that I felt like I was going to break lightly right away. I wore a mask to weakness. I wrapped myself in steel armor because I was afraid. The girl whose mask and armor were removed was surprisingly fragile.

So I bit him.

Giaa.

The serpent cried. You lick at the wound that was pierced by the poison. The smell of blood. The smell of iron shakes the bribe. It smelled like wine. A sense of conquest, an overwhelming sense of pleasure that I can wield at my own will. How can I endure it without such fun?

“Dantalian. ”

Laffith called out to me in a blasphemous voice.

Don't worry. I'm still healthy. Giaa. Look. Don't you have an arm? Like an eagle. Like an eagle? Anyway, I took it down. Once, twice. Once, twice.

Nowadays, it's bothersome to count to three. The beast that flies in the sky and the one that is swept away by the rough ground every time it twitches is miraculously landscaped. Down, up. Down. And up. It was a sight for drooling. No red kiss scene has ever been so attractive so early. As with all romance, the love of eagles and serpents left a fatal wound.

Poison.

Admiral Lee.

Double this.

The venom could be stacked twice.

“Dantalian.”

Laffith still looked at me with a worried look. Somehow I felt like crying. Yes, she was crying. No, Lapis never shed a tear. Weeping was not Lapis. Who is the woman staring at me right now?

“Please keep your handkerchiefs handy from now on. The shrine of a gentleman.”

Pymon?

A handkerchief?

Suddenly, looking ahead, the viper turns red.

Red...?

“Ah.”

The field of vision is back.

Sudden distortion.

My right hand held a sharp dagger, and somehow my left hand was strangled. It wasn't once or twice. Red. There was a bloody rag there ― I stabbed it. Who stabbed my left hand like this? Questions and answers were reversed. Instead of asking questions and answering questions, questions popped up after answers came out.

“Ahh... Ahhhh! ”

Excruciating.

One step later, the pain tears my whole body apart.

I fell to the ground. You crawl, crawl, and reach for the ceiling with the potion. The ceiling collapses as you raise your right hand. The weight was not controlled. The consciousness was clearly losing control of the body.

As the furniture ran out, the glass jars containing the potions broke. Dozens of them shattered at the same time. However, there were also several potions that remained intact in shape. I grabbed the potion as eagerly as a man prowling by the water.

“ ……! ”

Liquid flows through the cracks on the six sides, chaotic by the blade. Painful. The pain delicately tells me what my wounds look like. One by one, paranoid about the tears in his flesh.

But thanks to ― ― the consciousness came back.

I breathed violently. It's dangerous. You swing your sword almost unconsciously. I kept chopping off the back of my hand. Is it because of the vivid pain? The visions and the hallucinations stopped. The periphery of the vision becomes clearer.

“It's only been a few years. ”

In the beginning, it was anger that flowed from my mouth.

Even though my sense of numbers was blurry, I knew that a thousand years had not yet passed, let alone 500 years. I didn't know it was even a hundred years old. The granddaughter of the flower house was a girl to a mother, a mother to an old woman, and her son, again, a son's daughter, was supplying the goods to my house.

Maybe it was the son's daughter. A generation, maybe two. Or it could have confused the generation roughly. But it certainly did not go on long enough.

“The weakling. ”

I returned the insult.

Special measures were required.

If it's because of the protective instinct, it's because it uses the same protective instinct. Whenever I'm sober. Every time I was drawn to the vision, I hesitated to cut myself with a dagger.

I stabbed my back of my hand, forearm, thigh, calf, and sole of my foot.

I forcefully imprinted the pain on the body that forgot bioactivity.

The effect was great.

The body quickly understood what the consciousness was forcing. As soon as I felt the pain, I entered a kind of Awakening state. But the body was also too clever. I gradually realized that no matter how much pain was inflicted, it would never lead to death.

Time has passed. One slap on the back of the hand is not enough. I stabbed myself in the back of the hand twice.

Time has passed, and you often lose consciousness twice. I twist my forearm, not just my back of my hand with my blade.

Over time, my whole body barely regained consciousness after suffering. Arms and legs. All joints. The abdomen and chest. Rare corners that were not egged by my hands.

Terminus.

From here, I descended to the point where I had nowhere else to turn.

The body, it's already ragged.

I didn't have any strength.

“ ……. ”

I leaned against the wall and looked at the window. New York R. It was winter. It was hard for me to figure out when the seasons had changed. It seemed like it had been a long time since I looked at the window for some reason.

Just desperately.

But desperately.

I was holding on to me.

I tilted my head slightly and looked down, my forearm submerged in blood. The body that had become a manger was stretched out.

I laughed consciously. As much as I should laugh consciously, my nerves were distorted. It was a gesture that meant nothing other than the purpose I showed myself. But I couldn't stand it without laughing.

“A defeated dog……. ”

I wonder how much longer I can hold out.

Ten years? A year?

Maybe half a year.

But I made it.

For a lazy Nazi, I was pretty excited.

“I really didn't want to lose to me... ”

I smiled again.

I was a strategist. I had to be able to predict my own victories and defeats. I cut off my limbs, went to the brink of death, and somehow resisted, but now I see the end.

Then I will run to the very last.

Laugh at the ending that suits you.

I think I have that right.

“ ……. ”

When did I close my eyes?

You hear a knock on the door. I regained consciousness, picked up a cloak hanging from a chair. Even now, sometimes the owner or daughter of the flower shop came to see me. I left with my whole body covered in a cloak to hide my wounds from them.

The owners of the flower shop did not ask me if I understood the man in my own way, or if I had any questions about my situation or circumstances. But one day, when I heard the question to the little child, "Are you really an Elf?" I knew enough about how they solved the riddle.

Most Elves are handsome.

Sometimes I was grateful for their ignorance.

Knock, knock, and the visitor knocks again. I checked my appearance with the mirror. There were no gaps. I wielded a black cloak, except for my face. As long as I didn't go into the mansion, I didn't have to worry about the bloody corners of the bathroom. I always smoked spices to get rid of the smell.

Knock again.

“I'm on my way. ”

I've made heavy strides.

The wound was so severe that it was infinitely far from here to the visit. The other person seemed to think I had run out. I knocked at the door at regular intervals. Around the time it's repeated six, seven times.

I finally opened the door.

The wind blows from the other side and the door is a little heavy. I push the door with all my might, putting my weight into my hands. Then the cold air of winter pushed brightly through the cracks.

“Hello.”

And at the door.

There was a girl, leaving a field covered in white snow behind.

“Thought I'd say hello. It's more difficult than I thought. Hmm. I'm experiencing the whole truth that the simplest thing is the hardest. ”

“ ― ― ― ― ― ―. ”

My lips opened up.

My lips didn't shut.

“So the simpler it is at this point, the easier it is to go. ”

A girl.

A white girl smiles toward this side as wide as the endless snow.

“You're still so damn ugly. Dantalian.”

There.

There, Barbato stands.

= = = = = = = = = = Reviews of artwork = = = = = = = =

[ripple]

NineBreaker//Yes. I was smiling.

Marionette//Responsibility… what is responsibility? I'll ask Dantalian for a moment.

Ann//Pizza accounts for 33% of the reasons I live.

Uqulfuhat//Pizza is arguably the greatest invention in human history.

Fish Man//(Unknown)

it's no name//dantalian.

Gamemaster//Here, there was a rusted column.

Novels are the first art//The genre of Dungeon Defense is actually romance.

Thousands of angels//perhaps no foreign currency.

sprtmxj//Yes, rank 10