Dungeon+Harem+Master

Even in the village of the Elves, located north of the Wang capital, the Dorothea house boasted glory at the gates that led to the chieftaincy. Around her age, she had a decided bride of forgiveness from an early age.

The man's name is Ralph.

It is an elf who was leading the men who climbed the mountain path earlier.

Beautiful man, gentle fiancée and honorable family.

Dorothea, among other things, had not only excellent looks, but also swords and witchcraft talents, so much so that the technology was hailed as having nothing in line.

It was in the spring of the wedding that the shadows began to appear in the flourishing clan.

The Romless Royal Tax Collector, who has now begun to show a decline, suddenly took the edge of raising the tax rate. The area inhabited by the Dorothea clan was a subordinate state of the so-called Romeless kingdom, which was recognised for some degree of autonomy by collecting taxes.

In form, an official seconded by the Wang Capital carries out politics, but the replaced Governor was a small man obsessed only with his own accumulation, not as if he were interested in how to prosper the land and increase the treasury.

There was no cure for a genus state in such a person, and a little trigger exploded the spark of contention.

It won't even be a battle between the National Army and less than five hundred clans who left it to their wealth to enhance their equipment.

Armor sleeves touch.

The clan, which lost 70% of its casualties in one meeting, was to redeem huge amounts of compensation, especially the houses of Ralph and Dorothea, which would lead to the chief, were burdensome and the wedding postponed indefinitely.

Dorothea's and Ralph's friendship became decisive when they pushed each other's responsibilities for this battle, and only they were ugly insiders trying to preserve the authority of the clan.

Ralph gradually slipped away from the stress of not being with Dorothea to fit in with the liquor, women and pounding.

It can now be directed at Dorothea herself, who does not tolerate the skin inside.

"Wasn't unacceptable because I don't like Ralph either. If you comfort him cheaply with your body together, I'm sure, he'll never get back on his feet again. Because I thought so. That's why I wanted you to get excited and get back on your feet for the rest of us. But he is, he is."

Ralph's beauty was not, in a little booze or disturbed life, like a sumptuous one.

When Dorothea understood that she would never forgive her body, this man made a dignified woman and began to love each other, no matter what.

"That's about it, I could still stand it. But gradually he held a woman in front of her before she could show off and blame her for her actions. Did the toothpick gradually stop working, just when the elders of the clan blamed it, they couldn't go back to their original relationship"

There were other reasons why Ralph's prodigy stopped.

It was a matter of compensation for the war.

Knowing that he could not physically deplete his possessions, he now began to approach his fiancée in an attempt to return more than he did again.

"Wrinkles have such a personality that it takes a man to swallow them from time to time. Heh heh, this is still pretty hot, but I can always see that this guy is going to lay his wrinkles together with a sword. Elves are basically because women and men have a high temper. In that regard, Ralph praised me honestly for my softness, and was kind at all times. I didn't understand. I can't believe the kindness of it all."

When Dorothea first heard the rumor, she thought it was a lie and completely overheard it.

The rumor is that Ralph is selling the war-torn orphans born of the war and the half elves made by the soldiers who have invaded to the slave traders.

"I do not intend to discredit the existence of slaves. I also used it in a ragged house, and the fact that if there was a war, the men were selling it off as a loot. And that I have lived to this day with the wealth I have gained from it. But I couldn't believe it. No way, those young children who are also my countrymen."

Dorothea covers her face and bites her lips hard. The spilled blood flowed like a single thread.

"The world is not equal. If you keep winning, you get everything, and defeat takes everything away just once. I have been in Zara since I was a young child, working slave, etc. But where they were sold."

Behind Dorothea's brain, the garden of the nobility ahead, where the children who had finally found out were sold, dawns.

Holes worn large enough to be discarded.

Cold, black rain pours down the bodies of toddlers who have been struck down like puppets.

The fine fabric they had wrapped around had a tight creeping remnants of the liberating lust that would have taken place the night before.

Eyes like contorted glass balls have no will, and stare into the void as they are made.

I could see the side of the stifling Dorothea thrown into the hole, like an emotional stone statue, the tools used up by the noblemen's youngest men.

"If you hold a young virgin, when the disease heals, you get a long life. That's what they said. A man can't help wanting a woman. But I don't know anything about young kids. Like disposable trash, so much so. Anyway, Ralph... Once. Mixed blood (half-elf) would be fine. So, so."

Dorothea was unable to accept the sale, which is an abandonment policy.

Also to the leading members of the clan who had acknowledged it in the form of half acquiescence.

"You can't save everything. So he cut off Ralph's father, took his sons from the slave traders, and fled this far. Ugh, Klund. At first, I thought you were something the merchants wouldn't have done. I tried to abandon him. You're an outrageous woman. Straw doesn't have a home to go back to. I can't even see your father, your mother, or your sisters. You're scared, you're scared. With Ralph in front of me, I feel like I can't do anything."

Remove the white pearl necklace from the chest and raise it in front of you.

"This is the moon Ralph gave me before my engagement. Now I can't get rid of it even though I think it's so feminine. Sometimes I hate you enough to want to kill you. Oh, man. Wrinkles."

Dorothea made him smile with a face like he had given up everything. The hair I was putting together flakes and flows across my side. The white, thin fingertips playing with looked terribly rusty.

Her suffering was as unrealistic for a collector from modern Japan without slavery.

I would affirm the slave but it would mean that the treatment was too severe.

There was also blatant slavery in the ancient Roman Empire, but it was essential to life and there were penalties if it was pointlessly hurt.

But there is no such thing in this world.

It follows from Dorothea's words that, although outrageous acts are repelled, the penalty for them is probably not provided for in the law.

For a collector who could have been imprisoned without any evidence and executed in one more step, he realizes more than anyone else that the law of this world is the same as that which has not been altered by the will of the powerful.

The collector held his shoulder as he held Dorothea hard, silently.

Dorothea's soft body clings on so hard.

I did that for a long time, but Dorothea never wept.

Her face, biting the edge of her lips, just looked sad.

The collector was advised to bathe there and broke up with Dorothea when he was told where the natural hot spring was on the way home.

The attempt to sift calmly reflected painfully for the collector.

The hot spring is situated relatively close to intersecting the stream of Sawatari, with constant hot air drifting around like a white mist.

The collector, when he took off his clothes, folded and first lowered the temperature by bringing his toes closer to the water.

"This guy's at the right temperature."

Slowly sink your body so you don't fall off the rock.

The stiffness of the geothermal heat and the warmth of the water stains the whole body of the collector.

Weakened, caught up in a deep sense of pleasure.

Ugh, and my voice leaked unconsciously.

"Dorothea. Why say no. This is where we come in together."

Of course, as a gentleman, the collector wanted a mixed bath with Dorothea, but he refused without a shame.

Attacking the weaker part is a constant means, but when I think back on earlier stories, my remaining conscience blamed me for forcing it.

This natural hot spring is about enough place to walk from the inside, so they seem to be getting used to bathing before going to bed.

Let's definitely come for a peek. One nod to his chest of strong determination.

Beyond the white steam as the collector was growing his lower heart, he heard the bouncing sound of hot water.

"Wet, what's that?"

The treasurer approaches the noisy place with a breaststroke by cutting off his truncheon.

A lot of hot water bubbled.

I jumped out of the hot tub and landed on the rock without hiding it before.

"Oh, huh?

White luxurious back slowly looks back.

On his small chest, he had cherry blossoming buds.

My hair is wrapped up behind me in a white towel.

Lynette stood still, forgetting to hide her body.

I'm not a Loricon, so there won't be any particular problem.

"Oh, my God!

"Hiu."

The collector pretended to be calm when he slowly dipped it to his shoulder in the hot tub to quell one thing that was about to react for a moment. Nothing, so I shook a public discourse.

"But that's it. Hot springs get tired."

"Yes, sir"

Lynette looks up at the collector with a jealous dog looking at the Lord, wondering if this is okay, especially when she sinks into the hot tub without being frightened.

"Well, shall I flush your back?"

"Oh, wow."

I had no particular reason to say no, so I turn my back when I sit on the rock to be nodded.

When Lynette stood up without concealing the front in particular, she was an inner muster, but her fuzzy chest was still something that did not leave the realm of children, less greedy than she thought, and resulted in a relaxation that could behave in nature.

"Wow."

"What's going on?"

"Wow, I'll be right back."

'Cause there's a lot going on.

Lynette frowns when she sneezes her face, letting her gaze wander with her mostly.

When it comes to infinite healing with the power of the crest, it doesn't even erase scars.

The decided hiccups remained all over his body, which seemed to be of a different dimension to a girl far from the struggle.

"There's no pain for now, so just do what you want, can't you?"

"No, I will. Let me do it."

Looking back at the sudden scream, the girl lays her eyes down to be ashamed of her shouting.

"This is the only way I can do it."

"Hmm? I don't know, please."

"Yes, sir."

A small, gripped towel rubs his back up and down.

Has it been since I was a child, such as having someone wash my body?

When the zodiac gently meditated his eyes, his ears were clear and weakened by the sound flowing in the hot water.

"Wow, wow."

Comfort and shame boiled down at the same time to the feeling of blurring and dirt falling from his back.

Lynette is keen to concentrate on her work while also paying attention to her wounds.

Though a girl, being served so far by a woman has never been in her life before.

The collector felt an unusual sense of disloyalty and a paralysis that pushed him through his butthole to his brain.

"Uh, I haven't had a bath in a long time. Now don't let the women hate you more and more."

"That's not true."

"Come on, don't make fun of the grownups."

"Um, thank you for earlier. Well, cover me up. And yet, if I did, I'd run away without thanking you. It's terrible, isn't it?"

"Uh, is that it? That bunny. That's all right. Me, that's it! It's sturdy."

"Aren't you angry"

Lynette's fever-bearing eyes look up all at once.

The whiteness of the crease appeared prominent in the evening.

Moments, the wind blows so hard that the gray hair on the girl's collar is smoothly disturbed.

Glossy thin lips shivered slightly.

"I'm not mad. If you want to thank me, it's this way. Let Meshi eat too, or, besides, until the end of downstairs, which is lame this morning. Because all I can do is be a jerk. If you really appreciate it, don't worry, it's Dorothea's body."

The collector dares to raise his voice and laugh and show it.

Lynette's moving hand stopped.

"Not me, can't I?

"Heh, no, what..."

"Thank you. I will give Mr. Klund my body."

I didn't expect that.

The collector made his eyes black and white and pretended to cough.

"Heh. Uh, yeah. I wonder if it's still a little early. If this place were a little fuzzier, I'd ask for it."

In a joking tone, Lynette has been gazing at me with a face I can think of.

"I'm fine."

Yabe, I'm getting murky. Fuck you.

Lynette's lukewarm eyes tease me. It's like falling off if you don't touch it.

I'm not forcing you, can we have this form of love?

My circuits in my brain roar and activate, and all my ethics become thinner.

If you're in the country, it's a level of outrage where the photos are permanently stored in the FBI and all personal information is published online, and the location is constantly checked on GPS, while the area of action is restricted.

"Wait, I don't want to be a sex offender yet"

Reach out your right hand to stop it.

Lynette closed her eyes as she took the hand of the treasurer and led it to her chest.

"Ugh."

A young wheezer secreted brain drugs directly.

There was one shadow that moved backwards and backwards as the Founding Fathers began to give thought to the formation of the universe and the end of what was to come.

"I may have missed the time to leave completely. What are they doing?"

Dorothea was clawing at her irrational uncomfortable as she stared from the shadows of the rocks at the collectors snuggling.

She was sniffing her nose out at the wind blowing as she put on her rather bold, burning crimson bra and shorts.

"I praised Lynette for covering her up. Shut up and listen, and, you know, I'm impressed you hugged me. Out of the way, the manly shoulders and the thick breasts made me feel safe."

There was a wrinkle in Dorothea's nose.

"I did make it a little bit easier, even though it was part of a grand plan to take down Ijiri while delighting him with a little surprise later. I'm not in love or anything, no, no, no. Admit it. Admit it, yourself. I think he's such a good guy. I don't know what that has to do with anything, but what? What's wrong with these breasts?

"Lynette"

"Mr. Klund."

The two good vibes accelerate.

"It's kind of loose!

Dorothea sat back and, speaking of fortified magic, took up a rock as large as an adult's head, and threw it into Yukan, early in the arrow.

"Nooooo."

"Ha ha."

Dobo, and the chain of splashes rise one after the other beside both.

"How do you know!

Watching the two wolves, Dorothea royally stands on a high rock.

The stretched, shaped double hills protruded long in front.

"Mr. Dorothea."

Lynette exhales with an overtly seeping voice.

"Dorothea, what the hell do you want?"

A shaped safekeeper protested by sticking his lips out.

"Ugh, loud! You guys, this is a sacred place for all of us to get tired of the day. I refuse to put or let out weird sticks!

"You look so unconvincing."

"Whoa, I didn't realize that. Pretty sexy, man. Come here."

"Heh, heh. I wish I knew. Lynette. You should go first. [M] This sexual beast's mantra is stuck unless you're a frivolous adult."

"Mr. Klund is not like that."

"Hey, you guys"

"After a sweet voice! Come here, come here!

"Yi-ya-su"

As Dorothea jumps off the rock, she gives a hysterical golden cut as she hits Lynette's arm. History says, the two males don't stand side by side. Or Thanksgiving says there are no days in heaven. As the ancient iron rule began to grasp the two, the collector had already started wearing pants while sparing the elevated libido.

Seven days have passed since the treasurer was inside.

He has no place to go more than his ex. Yet for a young man targeted by a mysterious assassin, it was cozy in this place with blinding sorcery.

By the way, Dorothea started training the collectors to slap swordsmanship and witchcraft, but was throwing out a spoon in three days for lack of much talent.

Firstly, it is not something that can be mastered overnight with regard to the sword, because the collector, beaten up scatterly in stand-up archery, refused to carry on.

If you try to be a collector, you can't even do a decent audition or anything while you look across the street at the tap-taped rocking melon. He was in a dilemma where he had to face his sexuality every day.

And when it came to magic, I didn't have any qualities.

"Can't I just get the flame out of my fingertips and burn down a hundred kilometers radius square, or cut it into rings with a spa pan, like sliced cheese that my enemies melt with just a little wave of sword? It's intense."

People who can do that don't get away with it.

Dorothea's mastery of sword moves and all that, and he burned the crap out of it because he thought he would definitely have a hard time ahead of him if he didn't have the minimum power he needed.

"But I say no"

"Why not! Asshole!... you'd die normally, in fact"

The collector was a doctrine that went on and would never do anything unpleasant.

He showed such an irreverent resistance to Dorothea chasing himself around that he was not considered an adult male, sometimes diving into a blanket in bed, hiding behind Lynette's back, and finally pretending to cry out, that by the time the children were only three or four years old, he was talented enough to say, "Dorothea, hey, Klund is so cute."

If Dorothea really thinks about the collector here, I had to force her to drag it, but let her take the sword and forge it up, but she lacked that fortitude.

"It's so frightening, of. Oh, come on. I can't force Clando."

Dorothea was the type of woman who crippled a man.

That is, there was always the brittleness to tolerate a man's selfishness.

There is no way to leave a man alone when he sees a man who can't do it to the public, and there is any fact that a couple of such beauties are established with such scumbags.

Right now, that negative chain was about to begin, but Dorothea's chastity was as hard as steel, and the collector was attacking her fort.

"But when you think about it, this isn't Harlem."

Ninety-nine percent of the population in this area is female, and men are single collectors.

I didn't have to think about it. It was Harlem.

Inside, only Dorothea and the Caveman, who will be eighteen this year, can be considered adults.

The children Dorothea recaptured from the slave traders, the oldest being Lynette, twelve, the rest being nine at the top and a toddler who had just finally started walking at the bottom.

With nearly forty such children, a certain discipline was maintained without wonder and adults. Even at the age that I think such a toddler would be in modern Japan, I look after my younger child with admirable splendor.

The collector even remembered the illusion that he was talking to an eighteen-year-old when asked by a child named Martina, who would be eight, about his morning and evening dedication.

Since then, the division of roles has also been decided.

The hunt is Dorothea.

Lynette is the buyout to the city coming down from the inside.

Other than that, the well-looked after collector was in charge of taking care of the children in general.

And more importantly, having a man was a treasure even during a little hard work.

Even as a single population, the thing called balance is important.

It's the only thing that consolidates an organization that's just a man and an organization that's just a woman, and the air kind of stares at it.

Dorothea always stopped neglecting her makeup when she came out in front of the collector, and Lynette spent longer on herself. It is a medieval world with short average life expectancy and early adult awareness. The girls tended to mature early in the house. It was also a natural reaction for a woman who saw an older young man. The collector became familiar with this closed world, forgetting what it meant to only ever leave Marika and travel.

"Come on, my lady, let's get you some dinner."

In a world without electricity, it is common sense to get up early in bed.

The collector also went to bed as soon as the sun went down, and was awake at sunrise in the morning.

The children gathered in the dining room offer their prayers to God with their calls.

It is a Diablo religion with supposedly the largest number of believers in the Elves. The collector was Cao Tozong, but he pretends to pray without any particular attention. When I open my thin eyes and look around me slightly, I even magically pray for a toddler who has just been able to grab hold of me.

Amazing.

Sometimes, the collectors feel like they are homestaying in the United States or some European country, but the long ears sticking out of their golden hair smash all those dreams. For the time being, I wasn't even going to get used to it.

"Sa, eat more and more because you have a change. Look, Lyla doesn't take a look."

Lynette, with her forehead, moves between the tables and begins to bake her care. Though young, they are all women, except for the keepers. The chatter was quite noisy.

"Good morning, Lynette. That's tough every morning. And Dorothea?"

"Good morning, Mr. Klund. Excuse me, I'm late for a meal."

"Fine. Even so, the Dorothea one, you still have a devastating weakness in the morning. Hypotension, I guess."

"While you're at it? Something's wrong."

"Uh, I mean hypotension, which means someone who's vulnerable in the morning. You don't have a good balance of parasympathetic nerves or something. I'm not a doctor either, so I'm not familiar with it. It's a theory. Don't look at me that big."

"Heh, but it's amazing. After all, Mr. Klund, I have a learning. You were at a place called college, weren't you? Really, I know a lot and it's amazing"

"No, it's nothing amazing. Everybody knows this."

"I didn't know! Wow! The truth is, you were going to be a scholar!

"No, that's not true"

"Also humble. But I'm not proud of you, Mr. Klander, and I'm very humble. If I were you, I'd be so prestigious if everyone didn't know."

With his eyes nodded, the keeper couldn't hide his uncomfortable in a series of amazing lynettes. I can't help it. Lynette tells me that the level of education in this world is equal to none from modern Japan.

Lynette can't write.

It is called illiteracy. It seems that nobles or merchants are the only ones who write and work.

In fact, the literacy rate of the citizens combined, not only in the Kingdom of Romles, but also in all the countries of the Union, was less than ten percentage points.

They exceptionally leave the village to live, but it is normal for most commoners not to step out of the village until they die, except for the merchants in transit.

(Also, this look of respect, even though he said he had given a proper explanation. Dami. This place is too cozy. How bad can these innocent mustaches make me a bad person)

Lynette doesn't even understand what hypotensive words mean.

I just feel like I've become a superior person for a time, not just because I've heard things I don't know.

Besides, the more I can't do it as if I don't understand.

It was one end of human grief in a hierarchy that could not carry out the disciplines that had been systematic since birth.

"Mmm. Sister Li, I'm chatting with Klund right now. Stay out of my way."

"Wow, what. What is it, El?"

Girl with the big name Elment Laut, who sneers Lynette with a spoon, is a beautiful half elf with eight chestnut curly hair this year.

Anything, she told her mother from an early age,

Your real father is a knight in the name of the kingdom, and he can't pick us up right now because of circumstances, but one day he'll take us to the capital on a white horse.

and grew up being told like every night, so I gave myself a different aura than these guys, and there was a part of me that was a little distant from my buddies. And she was a girl who listened to me and liked to bust your daughter.

"This is why the common man elves. Come on, go. It suits you well to hold the pot and follow the soup around, ho ho ho, go! What are you doing?"

"Elle, don't talk to me like that."

I get stuck in a basin in the middle of a high laugh by Lynette and cry early into the elment raut.

She quickly clings to her neck aboard the collector's lap.

Then he stuck a spoon out to strangle towards Lynette.

"Oh, yeah, Klando. Lynette bullies me."

"Come on, you're gonna spill soup."

"Hey, don't stay away from Mr. Klund. You'll be in the middle of dinner now!

Looking half-eyed down at the burgeoning Lynette, Elmentrault exaggerates all the more, rubbing his nose tip against the muscle of the collector's neck and voicing the cat to sweeten.

"Krando."

"Lynette said calm down, too. It's what kids do. Look, I'm sorry about Elle, too."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. Oh, my God."

"Much."

Lynette's expression cured with a smile on her face when she said things that made people look like little fools.

"Hey, hey, Mr. Klund. You're not reflecting on that kid at all, are you? Here, come here!

Lynette's expression. I felt a definite killer.

Another child, who was by his side, dropped bread from his mouth, tearing eyes.

"Oh, my God, that's frightening."

Lynette instinctively felt a woman in the obvious fragrance of Elmentraut.

"Look, over here!

So I went around to eliminating it immediately. Lynette reaches out to grab her collar, but when Elmentrault leaves the cafeteria with a cat-like appearance, she makes a squeaky noise.

"It's not a town!

Lynette runs out like a disease when she shakes the lid of the pan.

"Hey, it'll be dusty, but not at all. Come on, good ladies, let's eat quietly."

The collector who dropped them off nodded to correct their prestige and continue eating to the rest of the children, but the whispers like the waves never stopped.

"Hiya."

"... Dasa"

"Nippon and Klund"

"That's right, Lynette, your sister."

I felt a cold gaze from a group of slightly older children, and the zodiac distracted himself.

After all, a woman is a woman from birth.

Chew hardened bread as you carve someone's golden words into your chest.

The treasurer remembered the scornful gaze of the women, who had been bathed in Semi in college, and turned lightly.

"Hmm?"

When I pulled the hem off my pants and looked at my foot, Lucille, whose back length was only about to the waist of the collector, gently handed me the handkerchief.

Lucille is a silent child. I've never heard a voice. With a small hand, she slapped her pompous as she lowered the knee of the treasurer, with mercy in her golden eyes.

"Are you comforting me?"

Lucille tilted her little neck and then nodded with momentum.

"Oh. You're a good woman. I'll make you my wife when you get tired of it."

Lucille couldn't help but shrug her shoulder and stroked her head as she climbed from her knee to the body of the keeper. The collector almost cried.

A man is a creature that continues to be flaunted no matter how old he is.