Dungeon+Harem+Master

The moment my consciousness broke, the scream rang in the distance. The collector moved his gaze slightly and looked into the crowded circle of men. The orcs who tried to escape had been stabbed to death by surrounded men. Thick, used swords and hand axes were shaken down indiscriminately over and over again, and splashed red blood was wetting the men's clothes.

"Have you done it? Well, you have to let him get away, you have to let him get away. You can't crush the Chamber of Commerce any more."

Alexander squeaked at each of them, throwing up yellowish sputum on the side of the road. The collector pounded his tongue violently as he looked at the sticky roadside stone gave me.

Well, it's been a nasty thing. Outside the realm of understanding, but apparently, as usual, it was troublesome. The dispute with the men in front of us has nothing to do with the quest we are currently taking.

Sadly, Hans seems to have escaped safely. Then there's no need to turn bright red and cut it off with a guy named Icarus who looks awesome on this occasion. Although it is true that the Black Lion of the Holy Sword, who lowered his back, was robbed, it would be much more likely to win once he returned to the village to take his companions and strike back. It would not be impossible to let Sizka and Artemisia clean up the miscellaneous fish and control it in numbers. It's also a story if we can get out of here.

Icarus pulled out his sword without any feeling, in a motion without some gaps. The cold blade had a frigid sharpness just because it was white and shining in his eyes.

Whatever the history, I guess the man in front of you is employed by one of the enemy parties. There is no point in trying to have a dialogue. It was the eye of a man who was ready for that.

"Icarus. You owe me one thing. Here, they slaughtered him, but unfortunately, he was too untrained in the world. Let me face it."

"I don't know what you're talking about. Besides, I don't lend or owe anything. We won't have to worry about each other."

"That's what I thought you'd say."

The collector suddenly ran out when he put the sword he had taken to sleep horizontally.

Icarus follows in parallel.

The two jumped out of the street and into the groves, dividing into depressed bushes. What we have in our hands is a loose resemblance to the Holy Sword Black Lion. The sword of Icarus against would be a considerable commodity. If the weapons were not mutually reinforcing, here was the disadvantage.

The sword of the collector is to the extent that he grabbed the Dojo swordsmanship at an early age, and his bravery is the fighting method on which he relies.

The structure of Icarus against is swordsmanship that goes the main road that draws a legitimate stream. It was clear that a decent meeting would have been unfavourable. In such a case, if you fight on the flat ground, Moro shows the difference in skill. The only way to turn them upside down was to use all the elements present around to fight the phantoms freely.

It was the collectors who set it up in the beginning. I slit my teeth open and burst into it. Icarus waves his long sword down directly from the front, as he waited.

Glancing away, he spun like a comma, gaining momentum as he flipped.

Even though I did, I saw a thrust towards my flank.

Icarus calmly turned to the machete and slashed him into his defenseless face by pounding diagonally. I twisted my body as hard as I could. Something cold on my shoulder moves out well.

Slashed.

It's what it feels like when you get a sharpened blade.

Soon there was a bloody tide from his shoulder and his consciousness was so far away.

The collector paid off a long sword with Icarus' tibia rolled to the ground with his teeth biting.

The thin trunk of the tree bounced off and scattered around.

A grey coat flickered at the edge of his sight. The slaughter continues to descend from above my head. A highly-leaping Icarus swung down vertically as he stopped the collector from sewing to the ground.

He threw mud on his left hand. At that moment, Icarus' right eye is covered in earthen smoke. Fly back and take the distance. Continuously, the blade approached my throat with a tremendous rise. The collector managed to outmaneuver the streak with a long sword and retreated to the open spot of the miscellaneous woods. A cold sweat tells his temples. Icarus' blows were heavy enough for each of them to amply amputate the body of the collector.

"Awesome arm. Why are you such a dickhead?"

"It wouldn't make sense to hear that"

Icarus responds with a cold voice and comes packing the distance. The gaze staggers in the middle of each other. I had unreadable eyes of all intentions. Stunning as a peek into the bottom of the earth. I shook my head and inspired my fighting spirit.

"Sure. Now."

Among the collectors, Icarus remained strong when he helped his friend's wife. So even on the way to slashing each other like this, somewhere, I was trying to be gentle about it.

That is outrageously sweet. Whatever the relationship once was, if the slaughter thus begins, there is no room anywhere for such a sweet little thing to intervene.

Icarus is the enemy.

And no matter what, I have to win and go home again.

These are the only two things that exist in the world.

You don't have to think about anything else. I don't need thought.

The fighting spirit that was shriveling burned up in my chest. The sea of flames that burned down the plains turned the caveman into a fireball.

"I don't want to win and go home for a reason!!

I ran screaming. Moment after moment, Icarus' mouth seemed to shaped his grin in loneliness. Left eye band. I could see the man's hand stretched out slightly. Do you mind?

The entire body that rushed out was throwing away its defenses. He switched the sword he shook up to the horizontal level.

Image of an integrated clenched wrist and sword. beneath Icarus' eyelids. My blue and white eyes were glowing. The right hand of the sloppy lowered Icarus moved unconstitutionally.

Slow. Running by the side with certainty of victory. Keane, and the tall metal noise flowed into the sky with clarity.

The collector, stunned, saw the long sword broken from the middle of his hand. I tried to look behind my back, but collapsed off my knees on the spot like my whole body had lost its strength. Got hit, I thought.

At the same time, it got hot as a chest exploded. Numbed blood tides flood. The collector thought of the mutilated chest wound and, for a moment, let go of his thought. I was certainly faster myself. Timely, the blow that swung down was definitely capturing Icarus' flank.

A mass of hot blood swelled up my throat. Heavy coughing caused a splash of drooling blood on the ground. I'm not convinced.

Why, Icarus could have prevented his slaughter by putting it behind him. My vision stains bright red. Crawling, he rose up in the trunk. Icarus has no way of approaching with his sword sluggishly lowered. The crest on his chest began to glow blue and white. As he managed to connect and stop his consciousness, surrounded by a pale light, he saw Icarus slowly walking away.

Helpful. I sat there at the same time. It was a complete defeat. Murray and anger creep up.

The collector barked with his fist tapped to the ground as he was beaten to the ground by a sense of defeat. I simply regretted it more than that my life was saved. I can put my strength into both legs trying to get up. Consciousness is out front, but somehow I can't get up. My hips are falling out completely. I threw away my broken sword and finally stood up with my sheath as my wand. Icarus' intentions were as if he could not read them. I didn't need to be present from the beginning if I wanted to help.

Huh, I thought I could keep going out into the street muscle and face the slave hunters. At the same time, I felt nauseous about myself considering Icarus' position. At some point, I take care not to crush Ments against a man who missed me. Do you mind? Once again, I'll chase him to Icarus' back and offer him a grand ride. Slash it if you want to. Instead, I'll be sure to get my neck this time.

"What the hell..."

As soon as I got back on the street, I doubted my own eyes. The large carriage carrying the slaves caught had fallen, and the front was lit with fire and burning red. The flames burned into dry standing trees, and the woods on the mountainside were anointed with black smoke. There was no sign of those who had been caught, and there was a group of people around them cutting with mercenaries from the Joshua Chamber of Commerce.

The light black skin, like chocolate applied, had an impression of characteristic long ears. They had each cleverly manipulated their daggers to move around quickly, overwhelming the winning mercenaries in numbers.

One of the most prominent was a young woman standing with both arms on a flipped carriage.

"Right, right. That's how it goes. Liza loves to fight flashy."

There were three pieces of golden hair knitted to the waist.

In this thin, cold climate, the whole body was dreadfully thin, regardless of the fact that it was wrapped in a fur muffler around its neck.

Or it was a white bikini covering her breasts and groin to the extent that she was sorry.

That contrast, paired with dark skin with slightly darker eyes than brown, was sufficient to make the collector lose his sense of reality.

Every time a furry boot up to his knee took steps into small pieces, his musty thighs rocked to the left and right. The woman who felt her gaze turned this way as she stared unexpectedly at the overly burgeoning outfit, ignoring the season.

Large almond-shaped eyes are moving crisply.

When I was old, maybe fifteen or six, my neat nose beam and slightly thick lips were sensual.

She is a beautiful girl. The atmosphere was Arab if forced to categorize it.

Dark elves.

Referred to as the Dark Long Ear Clan, they settled preferably in caves and cave barns, and were subpopulations of leading tribes that, as close as they could get from here, covered the "Forest Without Entry”.

"Mmm, rookie? Liza won't be afraid of anyone."

"Wait, wait, wait."

The collector jumps off the carriage and hits me, accidentally poking his knee in front of a dark elf in a white bikini. The chest wound that was severed earlier hurt.

"... What's wrong with you? Are you hurt? Hey, show it to Liza."

"No, nothing. More than that, you're - dangerous!!

"Nyah!

The collector learned the feeling of fire running on his back as he thrust the dark elf in front of him. In front of me is a tickle and a bright end. A spear ear was sticking out at the tip of his belly. I only manage to turn my neck back. There he could see a mercenary slapped on the blade from left to right, still dressed with a spear thrown at him.

"Hey, why did you cover Liza? Ningen......?

"Ha... I don't care."

Damn, there's always too many elves in between.

The tip thrust through the chest plate is wet and glowing in bright red blood.

I felt a cold breeze coming through my body.

The daughters of the poking dark elves looked at the collector's face with a dazed look.

Hot bloodlumps come up again. I wrinkled between my eyebrows with a severe vomiting sensation. I can't stand. I poked my knee on the ground disappointed. My consciousness turned away and a black satchel was quickly unloaded in front of me.

The dark elves living in the woods without entering, for a long time, made a covenant with Uncle Andrew to live without encroaching on each other's realm and without extreme interference, even if not friendship. However, the movement of the slave traders was enlivened by the chaos of the recent Step Elf campaign. The Joshua Chamber of Commerce, which openly hunts people in its territory, was an unlikely category. However, it was common practice to see more bribes sent to the tribal elites unless they were so aggressive.

Because most dark elves, who are often exposed to hunting, do not obey the old code. He was a lower class of people, so to speak, who did not settle in caves and lived in flats near the border between the forest and Andrew territory. At a time when, as in ancient times, the forest had not known if it was time for mighty monsters to jump and tread, and not so much with the human race, it is far more convenient than living in a cave that is inconvenient to life, only to wake up and spread the territory to the flats and forests that are convenient for agriculture, hunting and trading with the human race on a daily basis. The elders of the dark elves have been openly white-eyed, even if they clearly discriminate against them and do not persecute them.

Eyed at this was a slaver named Joshua Chamber of Commerce who would no longer continue to expand his forces with the momentum of the sunrise on the Romles. The two thoughts coincided. Even if the transgressors are hunted by humans, the central clans with a multitude of warriors never raise soldiers.

Of course, the families on the border who did not know such an inviolability pact was tied up above could not overlook the slave traders roaming around the woods intact, now they were counting on fewer men who could fight for providing food and weapons to the Dark Elves and the hostile Goblins.

A dark elf woman sells high as a slave. Elves are beautifully shaped in general, but dark elf women in particular had a seductively even-handed body that attracted the likes of black skin and dusty men, and millionaires and nobles with small sums of gold contested to put high prices on them.

Leaps the black skinned elf fully over the sheets, ravaging its abundant flesh with contemplation and exhaling desire. Slap your desires on your black, muggy glutes and enjoy the contrast. The unconscious enthusiasm made the men's delusions strong.

But the Dark Elves also don't stay silent and get hit. Dozens of villages, including the village of Pestra, immediately gathered five hundred soldiers and struck back.

Above all, there are not leaders with intense charisma, and the tactical policy was largely determined by the elders' agreement. It was a girl named Lisalind, one of the families with an ancient history in the village of Pestra, who was celebrated as a flag in that way. For generations, her house served as a service to God to dance praying for victory before the tribe began to go.

War Witch, is.

Always stay in the most prominent spot on the front line in battle and pray for a victory for the army. The casualty rate was high, and instead there was a superiority within the village that best garnered reverence and was preferentially tied to the descendants of leading families.

The witch of war is above herself serving God. You won't stand out and marry the other house, you'll only get children. They wake up in a temple dedicated to Espera, the god of battle, and usually live alone with women. At the proper age of fifteen, he went to the house of a man of convenience to receive his children, and by all means of sexual moves he enjoyed pleasure and was returned to the temple at the same time as he conceived. At the same time as childbirth, it was customary for my position as a witch to be solved. The pregnant woman spends her life in the temple until her life has expired, being nurtured by the village while aiding the festival in the temple in the future. As a result of the housework, if the child born is a man, he is raised in the village, and if he is a woman, he is raised in the temple as is.

Even if they have mothers, they don't have fathers and brothers. Actually, the problem, biologically, is that it exists, but it wasn't the first thing to stand out and interact.

The war witches were not usually allowed to make contact with men except when they received their children and when they stood on the field of how much. In times of war, there is little opportunity to make contact with a man, and only when the battle begins is he unloaded from the cage, standing on the arrow, and when the killing is over, he pulls into the curtain.

Dark Elf's war witch, Lisalind Pestrago, was joining the raid for the first time this would be his seventeenth battle. Because the last time my sister, who was a war witch, died in battle and took over her duties. The casualty rate was high as a matter of course.

The slave traders who take their companions are unforgivable, but the killing they see for the first time was still exhausted in a word of fear for the fifteen little daughters. Was it effective to obtain information beforehand, or was the battle able to proceed in a favourable manner with the advance party of slave traders? The Liberation Unit, which required Lisalind, was in charge of raiding rear loads away from the main army of enemy escorts.

Loads are captive compatriots and other species. Inside were humans, oaks, cobolts, elves and, rarely, warcats. The Dark Elf raid squad has ten, including Liza. The enemy is no more than twenty. The battle proceeded to dominance, and those caught left the spot thanking the Dark Elves.

And I can't believe the Ningens even captured their own people and sold them out. It's terrible. You can't forgive Liza.

The first humans to see it were all gear, but when they saw it as a disadvantage, they abandoned their companions and quickly fled the scene. Once the battle is over, it is unacceptable for you to continue to expose yourself to the public. It was the men responsible for generations of roles laid down in the village who looked after the witches, and when they also came into contact with the Lizzas, it was made polite for them to talk without looking at each other.

Liza was riding a carriage exclusively for war witches before the accompanying villagers picked her up. Hold a wounded man. It is utterly unbelievable. Of course, that was referring to my actions themselves. The man bothered to take the attack of the enemy he was supposed to engage. Cover yourself for being on the ray. Liza raised the chest of a man lying in a rattled shaky car and opened her eyes to its unusual resilience. I have heard that high-altitude sacred witchcraft has a technique of stamping a curse directly on the subject's body and performing an automatic healing "Regeneration". Even so, it was a peculiar resilience.

"But if you took a wrong step, you'd be dead. Hmm."

Liza looked at the man sleeping like he was dead, spinning his head fully, which he didn't normally use. The holes already empty in my chest are blocked and I get a healthy sleep. Originally, he looked at peace, as if that hadn't happened.

"Wow, wow, I don't know. Liza doesn't really like to use her head. That's right! When you're tired, you should drink something sweet, or something like that."

Liza brewed tea on a carpet laid in a shaky car, cleverly boiling water on a portable stove. The smell spreads abundantly fragrant inside the car.

"Sa, sa, plenty of sugar, plenty. Liza is sweet. That's why I'm putting it in. Shut up if you're here. There's no one here. Kufu."

Liza sings, sugar in a cup of tea "Seriously!?," he put in how much.

Sugar in this era is a precious product equivalent to medicine, and yes, it is not something you see on a daily basis.

It is so great to be able to speak of sweet things all the time. By and large, a creature called a young woman likes sweeteners as much as ants. No longer, when she drank out the syrup and transformed tea that had lost the meaning of the fragrance, Liza laid her hands on her cheeks with a tranced look and slackened her face.

"That's right. Let him drink Liza's brewed tea, too. Welcome. Here. Get up, get up."

Liza tries to shake the shoulder of a man who doesn't move while he's asleep, but doesn't make it slight.

"What, this. Liza's tea is delicious. Okay, if that's what you're gonna do, here's the deal."

Liza breathed in the contents of the cup in her hand and cooled. I opened the man's crease with my index finger and tilted the cup. Drops of viscous syrup spill.

Naturally, a sleeping man can't drink it up. From the mouth to the chin, what was black tea smeared.

"Oh, my God, even though Liza did it because of me. A man is a creature. He's selfish. Yeah?"

Liza broke down slightly overall when she came to the thought of what a man wouldn't do to be slight or why he purposefully covered himself.

"Ha ha. Now, you mean you got a glimpse of Lisa! Haha, we'll see. So, that's why you're shy of closing your eyes!! Haha, this one!

When Liza derived the wrong answer as much as she could, she twisted her body to the left and right with her hands on both cheeks.

Not at all, it was a good annoyance for a man, or Shimen Collector.

"Mm-hmm. I know, I know. Liza can't live up to your thoughts. I've already decided who I want to have a child with. But how cute Liza is, all of a sudden, is that when she gets so intense, I feel that Liza must also show her sincerity as a woman. Um, I'm in trouble. Hot women are tough."

"Ugh."

Liza is grinding her index finger through the collector's cheek as she shakes her head with Earn. Less painful, the collector brought groans.

"But the temple is forbidden for men. Even if I brought him back like this, um, um. You're gonna piss me off."

Liza raised her face and stuck her lips out, wondering if she was bored holding her head.

It was pretty manky.

"... oh my god. The genius Liza is terrified of her own brain. I've come up with a way to convince the villagers and the Kasasas, by the way. Exactly genius. I'm terrified of myself. This is an overwhelming place to be called Kirinko."

Liza grinned, clamping down on the collector's face in both palms, declaring.

"I've made up my mind, from today on you are a slave to Liza!! Greetings, Ningen."

The collector threw up sleeping guerrillas as he drew his body in a vicious fashion. Liza laughed strangely when she opened her mouth in surprise.

"Throw it away where it belongs."

"Why?!?

Returning to the village temple, Lisalind had been scolded by her mother Aida.

I managed to get the familiar villagers to help me sneak up on the collectors, but the smell of blood that turned back couldn't deceive my astute mother.

Aida had a headache in her daughter's line of work while keeping her temples down. It should also be that inside the temple it is forbidden for basic men except on the opening day.

Besides, a man is not even a fellow dark elf, he's a human race. It is the human merchants who are hunting, and many villagers have been deprived of their families. Besides, Liza doesn't understand, but her beauty was only exposed to the public about the time of the festival, but she was the owner of a slippage of instrumentality, and the hope of the seed owner appeared in dozens of villages and in human death.

It could happen to be a spark of commotion if she, with a character close to your species within the dark elves, were to be greatly known for bringing a man, but also a human race, closer together. Aida, who lived half a hidden life at thirty years of age, preferred quiet anyway. I'm so sorry for the noise and the noise.

"Lisa, I'll take good care of you! I just took care of this Guero!

Liza strained her chest, pointing to the keeper, who was still quiet and motionless.

"Hey, then I don't know which one is the slave..."

Of the fourteen sisters, the closest of ages, Rosalie below the two sighed as if she were frightened.

"That won't be the problem. Anyway, for whatever reason, men are forbidden in this temple. Besides, Lisalind. You have a sowing day coming up. Matthew, I'm sure you'd be offended if I found out there was another man by your side."

"Liza, I hate him. Something nayo and disgusting"

"Lizarind!!

Liza turned to her cheeks as they swelled. For convenience, the opponent who plans to seed Lisa was a boy named Matthew, the son of a leading man in the village who became sixteen this year. He looked really delicate and slightly as gentle as a girl among the carefree dark elves.

"What are you fussing about, at all?"

"Ah, Auntie, come on! This is, um...!!

As the Lizzas were making noise, an old woman with a cane from the back of the temple showed up in a firm foothold. For Aida's grandmother, Lisa, Eunice, who was her great-grandmother, grinned happily with a wrinkled face. Numerous teeth remain unexpectedly in mouths like pompous caves. Let's say it's a symbol of her resilient vitality.

"This, if it hits. You know, you know, you're the one who bullies Liza. Do something about it."

Liza twisted her hands around her great-grandmother's breaking neck in a sweet tone.

Eunice liked the easy-going personality Liza, and the way she spoiled her departure from common sense.

As a result, he had taken a familiar attitude towards this great-grandmother, who also boasted a great deal of power in the village.

Eunice was present in hundreds of matches, big and small, as a war witch, and it was unusual to set up a son as late as the mid-twenties, but instead it was a living legend that led the village warriors many times to victory.

"Liza ahhh!! You mustn't talk like that to your aunt. Whoa!!

"Ho ho, Aida. I wonder if Liza did something to you again. You get so angry, you're so young, you're getting more wrinkles."

"Auntie, well. That's terrible."

"Well, now what?"

"Yeah. Liza, I picked up Ningen. At the wasabi yard. So, this belongs to Liza, so I thought I'd keep it today! You can't do that, you curse this fucking idiot girl and slap her with a munch. Liza is sore and sad..."

Liza sifted and trembled and hugged her own body with both hands, she finally cried.

"Aida, it's your bad habit to raise your hand immediately. Totally."

"You mustn't lie. Whoa!? Why, Liza! It's like falling for your mother right away. Whoa!?

"Hit me, don't hit me. Kasama."

"Liza, ahhh."

"Oh, Mama, Sister Liza is better at one. Shouldn't we give up now?"

Rosalie laid her hands on Aida's shoulder, as she was tired.

"Why are you so calm? Cover your mother for a second."

"So if it hits you. Liza, can I keep that?

"Ho ho. Don't let shit end properly."

"Okay!

"Okay, you didn't, silly girl. Your mother's not so bad. Oh."

"Oh, my God, my sister Liza is dying."

"Liza is not an idiot. Rather, clever."

"Mother, you'll never end up down there. I don't care if you cry or call. The one from Liza, I'm gonna get bored soon anyway. It's not the usual pattern."

"Oh, my God. You know exactly what I mean."

"... Damn. I'll throw a round at Rosalee then."

Then the House voted, and in the strange place of the treasurer, his identity was lost to the slaves.