Dungeon+Harem+Master

Blue Dragon Zumei was born in an ancient castle named this Dragon Emperor's Cabinet in far ancient times. Ever since I was mindful, my father had not, and it was my beautiful mother with silver fur that raised her.

When my mother disappears from time to time, she returns to the castle after a few moments. I was wondering at the time, but I guess I've been planting seeds here and there.

When my mother returned to the castle, she gave birth and had more sisters and younger brothers. At a time when there was one sister and two more brothers, my mother stopped moving from the castle.

To imagine, the person who was conceiving her would have lost it. It was impressive to Zumei that her temperamental mother was weeping as she watched the moon in the night sky.

According to my mother, the castle was one of many separate mansions built where the clan once flourished, and the main castle was defeated and crushed by how much with the enemy.

"Before that, I was the general of Etria. They treated a clan with wings on your back like a servant, but touched the wrath of an ancestral dragon, and the clan of wings was made to fall on earth. The garden tree that you call the world tree was stolen from here by your servants."

"My ancestors served the Dragons...?

Fristford, pointing to Zumei, showed a bare gesture that gently looked back behind him.

In other words, the clan known as the Wingman who fell to earth was also able to identify the world tree because, retroactively, he was a dragon gardener.

"Nothing, I'm not trying to assert my rights to the world tree, as I recall. It's the only tree that grows here. It's also a lot less effective than the ceiling."

Zumei lay down her long lashes and stroked the edge of the cup with her thin fingertips.

"Then why is it this time of year to imitate the way you purposefully chase away soldiers? Zumei, you were there. He said he didn't like wasted life."

"Yes. I hate wasted life. So I didn't want to leave any seeds to stretch out any more definitive results"

"What do you mean,"

"I am the general of Etria. You will no longer understand. There is no precedence for those who ride in the mountains. Keeping the branches of the world tree on you is prolonging the suffering of this country. Besides, that one, if you follow the original, came out of this Dragon Emperor's Palace. It also hurts my chest to keep spitting out pain from my castle. Either way, the clan that named the king loses. It's only a matter of time. Your resistance only prolongs suffering for the people. The fate of the Etrials has already been exhausted."

Frustford stood up and moaned with his hands poking at the table. Red Shizukuishi drips like yarn from thin lips. It's an angry look. His eyes are opened and his complexion is as white and clear as paper. It was something I didn't want to be catapulted as a word, even if I knew it. I understand it more clearly than anyone else. The king's army is isolated, and the people are embracing the reign of the republican army so that the grass is windy. The branches of the world tree are a major part of Etria and are valuable in exchange for huge gold grains in small quantities.

Of course, as an army, the benefits of that drug effect are immeasurable. If you make it a fristfolk, you can't deny that the kingdom was needless to say corrupt. I have devoted my allegiance to Nicolai to the Etrials. All of that was denied. It was clearly cut off to the royal family that blooming again was evil.

"The resistance of my army is pointless."

"From the eyes of the people. King Etria's tyranny is a harsh fact known to everyone on earth. I hear that all the men with hearts now mourned that the king had fallen, even though he raised his cup. Even if it's snoring, the government is doing better right now. At least the people are not starving. Again, royal dreams, only a knight who wants a place to die and a foolish man like you would be in a leap."

"If I did, I'd know better."

"I'm pretty bored on the clouds."

Zumei replies with a relaxed look.

When the collector stood up, he placed the cup quietly and looked down at Zumei.

"Hey, Zumei. In the end, if you give up the world tree, can I interpret you as not attacking the king's army?"

"There is nothing in particular to include. I have no obligation to put my shoulders in the Republic Army. And then it will fit into place to fit in naturally. And..."

"And?"

"That world tree has a life expectancy either way. From what I looked into, none of the parts were available. I mean, it's impossible to hope to harvest branches anymore."

"Nah -!?"

Hearing the words, the collector felt a sense of loss as his feet collapsed.

Branches cannot be harvested. It was, inevitably, a hopeless fact that Lynette's treatment had become impossible. My breath hurts. Behind his brain, Lynette's crying face blurts like a shadow painting.

Once, when I lived with him, he was flying around vigorously with the vegetables he could take from the farm full of baskets, floating firmly on the eye lid. She can't run anymore, like that day. How much shadow will that pain cast on the long life to come?

(Me, then, so far, for what?)

Freezing in the cold, snoozing and rubbing the eye lid, meeting and hurting enemies, no matter how much blood they bleed, that is not bitter. Lynette's legs healed and I dreamed I could run around like I used to, even though I'd come this far. With the thoughts of the treasurer approximate, Zumei continues his words.

"I called you here to sharpen your soldiers' acumen and refrain from wasting their lives. And one more thing"

"Is there anything yet?"

From a third-party standpoint, Marc, who kept his cool, puts his gaze on Zumei.

"In the meantime, I need you to listen to my clan a little more."

Zumei returned to the conversation. My sisters and brothers eventually grew up. From this time on, he will spend most of his time changing his figure into a human body. Because everyday life is inconvenient in the figure of dragons.

Eventually, when the breeding season began, I had to look for someone. My mother tells me. "Sister, sister, brother, leave your children behind," he said.

At this point, no other dragon species of our own size existed. If so, we must make children around the family of an inferior dragon. The mother of lineage supremacy ordered marriage by adultery, if that is the case.

It was my sister Yulan and my brother Vritra, plus Yorum, who fiercely rebelled against this. The three, indignant at this mother's command, left the castle.

"By the way, I wasn't otherwise dissatisfied. Hopefully, I would have preferred to have a gentle Yorum child to a temperamental Vritra, but I was deeply hurt by the intense refusal."

"Oh, wow."

The collector pulled quite a bit.

"Later, I was surprised to leave this castle and know I was unusual. You were a boxed girl."

(Do you really think so? Or has this happened in an effort? Is it just natural?)

Zumei's mother died suddenly as a result of this. The reason is that, when leaving the castle, he tried to pull Sandragon away and was fatally injured in line with the harsh resistance. Already, I wasn't old enough to listen to my parents' orders.

"It's bad luck that I couldn't figure it out."

"Hey, go ahead and talk to Gudagda. In the end, what do you want?"

"Don't rush it, it's Crand. You're pretty blunt. Can't you tell by the way things have been going so far? Hmm, if you look at that face, it feels like you're oblivious to women. I don't have a choice."

Zumei makes one point and nods with his arms together.

- Hey, you know what I want?

- I don't. Don't ask me.

The collector remains silent and interacts with Marc with his gaze. To be honest, I didn't understand what Zumei wanted to do.

"Clarify me. If there are no branches of the world tree, I can no longer use this country. Right away, but we're going down the mountain."

"Well, that's a shame. hehe, what do you think this is"

Zumei opened the contents and showed them out of the small box at the table, when he put out his little bump.

An emerald-colored powder flows safely on the white top plate. The sweet smell of citrus drifts on the tip of my nose.

"What's this?

"Hehe. This is a herb that is not as good as elixir but has a much better drug effect than the branches of the world tree," says Beryl Itadli.

"What!?

"Seriously......!

The collector and Marc round their eyes and alternate between the table and Zumei. Fristford also couldn't hide his surprise with his mouth covered with his hands.

"Is it true or not? We don't know if it works for him."

"Yes, it is. So, how about this?"

Zumei said that he waved his left hand and cut his right arm, as if cutting a radish, or easily.

Out of the way, blue blood flowed and wet one side of his foot instantly.

"Silly, what are you doing!

The treasurer shouted out loud.

"Behold"

Zumei said so, rubbing the powder on the tabletop against his fingertips and applying it to his wound. Then, hold the dropped right wrist and align the cutting surface with the pitch. As if glued together, the wound instantly stopped bleeding and the arm returned to normal. Zumei checks the functionality by opening or closing the right palm, as if nothing had happened.

"And it works great. If a human is dying to such an extent that it will heal the next day"

Exactly, it was a magical sight.

Fristfol cares about the powder on the tabletop with wrinkles between his brows. I can't help it. With this panacea, Queen Ekacherika's illness will be cured. It was also a special effect, paying for his venerable Nikolai worries.

"But you can't just shut up and give it to me."

"Exchange terms. You don't have to."

Zumei is restless by rubbing her shoulders and patting her toes.

"So what is it? Speak straight. I'll do anything I can!

"Let's go. Klund, stay in this castle and live with me."

"What?"

Zumei's words.

The collector held his hand forward and solidified on the spot in a dumb position.

Mi-no, and the place freezes, and I hear something like tinnitus.

- What is it, this guy?

Zumei stays faceless and takes the cup to his mouth when he hands it again. Drink up and there is nothing in it. It was proof that she was upset.

"Uh."

"Good for you."

"Congratulations. Live the master."

As soon as the powder on the table is gathered, Fristfol and Marc begin the process of returning it to the pot. The two eyes were clearly floating with a strong sense of pity.

"What are you laughing at, you Yarrow!!

"Wow, I'm not laughing. Good for you. Now you won't have to contend."

Thank you, Lord Klund.

"Will you stop cutting the fristfoll off with a mouthful like you've already decided!?

"Nevertheless, I don't want to force my marriage to remain dissatisfied with my husband who will spend the rest of his life ahead of me either"

"Mostly, why me! Look, these two are easier to control! In the first place, I don't know how you and I can fall in love!

"Though you are weak, O Krund, you have defeated Vritra. That's enough for me to have a baby."

"Hey, what the hell, now"

"The conditions for having a child..."

"Well, well, well. Um, Red Dragon was weak!?

Vritra, the evil dragon king, was literally a worthy strength to bear the king's name. But Zumei broke it off as weak. The landscape in front of me was like hot candy, cluttered and distorted.

"Vritra was hurt fighting the Demon King, who lives far northwest of here, before he fought you. Was he losing his sense and acting like an asshole? He was half-dead, stubborn, and unable to see back and forth. Otherwise, no matter how much power is diminished, I will not commit the foolishness of exposing myself to steep points in my neck"

"By the way, can I ask you how weak you were?

"Right. You wouldn't have been able to exert your original, one-tenth power. I'm the weak one who can kill with one push."

"Stupid......"

"This is a continuation of an earlier story. Let's continue at the top of the mountain. As a handful, I fight as I am. You can't compete with a dragon body. In case you can put a knife in my body, I'll do the pills. I'll give it back to you, too. But if you lose..."

"What if?

"I'll have you by my side for the rest of my life. Ask them to give up descending into the lower realm until they die."

Zumei went without discouragement.

And the collectors make certain decisions.

In conclusion, the collectors decided to fight Zumei with three players. It's three games. According to Zumei, when in human form, the ability of the dragon species is largely sealed and suppressed to an extent that does not exceed the boundaries of human strength without limitation.

Even so, it would apply to the strength of the superhuman category, unlike the luxurious appearance. The order of the battles was to be in the order of Marc, Fristford and the Collector. Both Marc and Fristford are skillful. Somehow, a knife.

"If you mean you can fight in the human body, there is one favorable part"

Marc snapped as he stretched his stiff body muscles.

"That means there's no risk of escape in the sky."

The two faced each other in a large garden covered with cobblestones. Here, it is the vastness with which more than 10,000 legions of censors can open up. There is no shield around, and it is literally an unmistakable dueling ground where individual skill is revealed in twelve ways.

"Don't worry about it. I'm not going to turn you around, I'm going to make up my mind."

"Marc, honestly, unlike me or Fristford, you don't have to go this far."

"Idiot. It's not about the smell of water. I am, Klando. Before I was a Republican soldier, I was a man. For those of you who've been through so much trouble, why don't you just take your skin off?"

"You..."

Marc slapped both cheeks with bread in the palm of his hand as he showed his white teeth as a knit.

"It's not cool. I think so. You want me to lend you an ass hole later?

'Cause it's going to stick to the tip.'

"... well. That's too bad."

The collector and Marc laugh bitterly as they match each other. Whether they are drunk on themselves or not is a disgusting conversation from scratch. Fristford called out only to be careful, standing without even wandering.

When Marc pulled out his long sword, he set it up unconstructively. As the collector sees it, he was a skilled swordsman with no distinguished skill but a solid offense.

"When they're round hips, it's hard to do."

"Hmm. So, how about this?"

When Zumei waved his right hand, he immediately appeared a frozen sword. She's not wearing one piece of protective equipment besides the blue dress that makes her body line emerge. The length of the hem covering to her feet, even though it inhibits quick movement, moves her to slip through the ssssss like a mistletoe across the water.

"Yuku!

When Marc screamed, he ran out as quickly as a bullet that had been shot out.

Try to hide the horizontally erected long sword in the rear and go straight. It was ingenious to keep the sword between us.

Zumei, on the other hand, doesn't even pickle with his sword straight in one hand. The collector watched the attack breathlessly.

Marc was struck by surprise as he ran glue around Zumei like a circle.

The white blade roars.

"Mm."

Zumei's sword was launched upwards and his body was exposed to defenselessness.

I could see Marc rounding out his tiny body and rolling out the poke at an awesome rate.

White blades loom like arrows.

- But Zumei, with just a little movement of his body, sent a special thrust.

Marc's attack did not end in one go.

A thrust rolling out early with arrows like a machine gun strikes Zumei.

She is swimming in the rain of a white blade, fluffing and relaxing her blue dress as she dances.

(It's not too late for Marc. Zumei's moving too fast!!

If the sword comes in in time, do it for me.

No, in the first place, Zumei doesn't even seem willing to attack. Her speed gradually gets faster. From a distance, the blue mass seemed to blend into the landscape like fog and become obscure.

Marc, on the other hand, continued to move apnea and gradually found that fatigue accumulated. Obviously, the movement slows down.

Still, I don't suppose we should stop the attack.

It is self-evident to be slaughtered when your leg stops.

"Ha-"

A blue mass stops at the sieve. Instantly, Marc's body danced in the void.

Zumei's attack was finally launched on Marc.

Shin, the cobblestone rang, and the white dust stood. Fristfol hits his tongue violently.

"Hmm?"

Zumei looked at his feet as surprised. Marc. He comes up with a grated foothold, spitting blood reflexes. For her, was that out-of-count? It seemed faceless, my eyes, open wide.

"You don't have to force it. The human body is soft. I know that very well."

"Joke......! The battle has just begun!!

"Ruthless."

When Zumei approached him, he struck down the sword unwrought.

Marc leveled his sword aggressively and took the blade.

It is a rigid force that stopped Pordina's hammer at her fingertips.

In dragon species and people, it can't even be a comparison of power.

Marc quickly rolled down the ground and turned his body away.

Or so it seemed.

"Huh?"

Zumei's sword flashed.

Marc's body was cut off in pieces like a piece of paper.

A bright red tide of blood bloomed like a round of roses in cool heaven and earth.

The heavy bag leaves a collapsing sound and Marc's body falls forward.

"Marcu!!

As the collector tried to rush over, Zumei extended his arms and controlled. She turned the wound toward heaven as she turned the dying marc on her feet as she rolled the animal's carcass. Then he put one hand around him and showed him a move to sprinkle something. That's right. That's the pill. Zumei. White fingertips move glossy. It was frightening. The powder picked at the fingertips of one hand is glittering. So much less, I saw Marc wake himself up with a frightened face.

Zumei picked the hem of the dress and made her take an elegant bow that the lady would do.

For the first time, I had an unparalleled aversion to the trick.

- In fact, Zumei has no idea, such as human life.

"and. I told you, Klando. I don't like futile biocides."

Before the collector responded, Fristfol ran out in a straight line towards Zumei.

A piece of silver light is sucked into Zumei's neck. The blue clothes retreated backwards to melt.

"Do you want to use some?"

Zumei bounced his hair off his face with his fingertips and went.

A blow from Fristford pissed her off.

Exactly, the knight's sword moves were sophisticated and sophisticated. A long sword rips through the sky and strikes Zumei. At the same time that the scores collided with each other, Zumei struck a sword and swung it, becoming a defensive party. Staring at the fire like attack, nevertheless the Zao wrapped his tongue around Zumei's isolated power. Totally treats fristfoll like a child.

Often, her footsteps, which seemed to have retracted, began to pivot the sword at a tremendous rate as she stopped perfectly in one position.

The sword of Fristford is a long sword, but the sword itself is just under a meter. The advantage of intermission was that the sword was more overwhelming. Whenever the blades bump into each other, the crushed ice is glittering and sunny, drifting through the sky.

Gakin, and a high-altitude object rang.

A blow from Fristford broke the pattern of the sword in two.

"Hmm. I'll do it inside."

Zumei throws down the crushed weapon Egg, and now he hits it with his bare hands.

She cleverly judges Fristford's long sword with a knife. Nothing. From the beginning, Zumei's arms were much stronger than his sword.

Zumei is flirting with Fristfol as he moves like the wind. To be honest, Fristford's swordsmanship is a few steps short of Marc's or the collector's.

With that skill, the dragon species have no teeth in their fighting power.

Once again, I found out about the horrors of the outside world.

The battle was decided abruptly.

Zumei jumped back and unleashed an icy brace with intense momentum.

Cold chills stopped the movement as they froze Fristford's legs on each cobblestone.

Like an arrow, a pale wind ran past the side of the fristfoll.

At the same time, the black armor cuts off and rolls to the ground.

Zumei's knife profoundly swept the flank of Fristford with every armor.

A bright red blood tide blew out vigorously and danced like fog. Zumei leans closer to the blue-white-faced fristfoll and sprays the powder of Beryl Itadli through her wound.

"Well, all you have to do is cland. Surrender?"

"Who throws battles before they fight?"

Different positions. I felt intense signs from Zumei walking over quietly and my body trembled unknowingly. It feels like an uninterrupted thickness with a large shoreline in front of it. The enemy is the most powerful dragon species on this continent. It is as if it were a creature of another dimension. The fright doesn't go away.

The collector plucked the sweat flowing on his forehead with his left hand as he pulled the holy sword "Black Lion” out of his waist.

I feel like the space in front of my eyes, which seemed so spacious, has been inadvertently narrowed.

"Why refuse? This castle is full of everything. Neither would my form, in the light of human standards, be so unbeautiful. Rather, it falls into the category of good instrumentation. Mm-hmm. I raise a beautiful wife, a child, and dawn on as much gastronomy and wine as I like. But here, I want you to live according to my instructions. In the first place, when you turned against me, you could have left it to the wrath of humans and others in that mountainous area to destroy. What a great mercy. For organisms, death should be avoidable, isn't it the best?"

"I'm sorry to live here until I die. Besides, I have something to do."

"Why are you putting me up? I will protect you from all suffering. If you follow it, you will live in peace until your life is complete."

"I can't believe someone decided to spend the rest of my life. Such a life is not dead, but it is alive...!!

When the collector shouted with excitement, he drove away with his long sword standing on the upper stage. Zumei stands tall and natural. There's plenty of room. In a flash, Marc and Fristford's arrangement shows that they're no match for each other. Absolute destiny is this. Perhaps she will have mercy. Even if the treasurer loses, the medicine reaches the women. Lynette's legs will be fully healed if they return home with their medication.

But in that case, Zumei would never miss herself. It is undoubtedly true that she desires a treasurer. Until now, at any time, I have been cut out. That luck doesn't necessarily last this time. There is no guarantee that a battle will ever happen.

In fact, the presence means that if strength is not antagonistic, the battle can be won in the first blow. Zumei's presence as if competing with Marc and Fristford was also an indication of her confidence and only with the transcendent power of the dragon species. I was scratching. I'm not even angry. The inevitable of the strong.

Discarded.

Picking up a win requires the will to renounce common sense. Neither did Zumei think the collector was going in without any measures.

Moment, stuck. Then, the response was quick. Fly big behind your back, take the distance. It was a reflexive survival instinct against the assault. The blue dress moves with the remnants left behind.

There is no stray in the heart of the treasurer. Moving from the upper structure to the poke so that it flows. My shoulder coat just snapped a thousand times, and I shouted. This body is a released arrow. I don't doubt it because I believe it runs through a straight line toward Zumei.

Zumei released a chunk of cold air at his feet as he opened his hands to the left and right. Destroyed the cobblestone and the ice spear ran like a wave. The collector endured the pain of chopping his whole body as he ran. A streak of waved cold air pokes and wears his chest flanked with his legs and seldom a crisp. Run with blood smoke.

At the same time, my vision stained bright white. Zumei spit out the freezing braces she was good at. I heard the mistletoe and even the bone marrow freeze. Crossing the river. It's a long, hard river to cross. There is no way to avoid this cold air. There's no defense or anything. You must be swept up unilaterally until your sword reaches your opponent.

The image of defeat is intense. In the distance, Marc and Fristford are screaming. Same as last time. The braces without a clue are likely to shrivel their willingness to fight frozen to their souls.

But it moved on. I even moved forward. That's how I've won so far. I will continue to do so.

Last time, I lost because my soul didn't have a core. Not now. A bright red flame column is rising from the bottom of my belly. The palm of my hand is sticking perfectly to the pattern with intense cold air. Thank you for that. Whatever happens here, you don't have to worry about removing the sword. Zumei's face approaches. I don't mind if I don't get stuck. I'll go ahead and say I won even with a hairy scratch.

That determination was also vain, and the treasurer's march, a few centimeters away, was absolutely fixated.

"That was a shame. And just a few more places."

- I can't hear you.

"Look, one minute to my chest, is that it? Klando, you did your best."

- It doesn't make sense if it's not accompanied by results.

"I am generous. I'll let you both have the medicine. What? I'll soon forget about the ground. And drown in this body."

- That doya face is annoying.

The collector was dressed with the poke rolling out, frozen. Several ice columns hang from horizontally stretched arms. The whole body is covered with a white ice membrane and, like a building cut out of the ice, it releases an unusual mind. A normal person would give up. Instead of moving one finger, it's freezing and solidifying so you can't even raise your voice.

But from here on out, it's the pinnacle of a man named Shimonzo.

If it's bad to give up, heaven knows.

And in his chest lies the merciless God (Deus Xmakina), who flips everything at critical moments.

Immortality Red, the crest of immortality on his chest, glistened suddenly.

"Nah -!?"

The light, in an instant, covered the castle of the sky itself.

As a fierce fierce fire, the whole body of the treasurer is filled with white flames. Zumei covered his sight reflexively as his eyes were burned.

That moment.

Just for that moment.

Enough for that moment.

The frozen body had freedom in its hands like it had rewound time.

The ice, which covered the epidermis, burst radially into thin pieces.

The collector shook his remaining power and threw his sword. Zumei's consciousness is transferred to the void.

Naturally. Why are we throwing weapons all the way through this period? Consciousness was tied to inexplicable behavior.

An eternal second enough to overturn God's will.

White vapor filled the perimeter.

"Zumei, you win."

Marc and Fristford stood stifled, just looking at the sight in front of them.

Until a few seconds ago, a confirmed man of defeat is now pushing over the woman.

I can't keep up with brain rotation, it was an inexplicable development.

Zumei recovers from the upset and tries to wake herself up. The power of the dragon species transcends man.

So I don't compare forces.

Until you take the hand to yield the woman.

"Surrender."

"Don't be ridiculous! Such a scam! I won't admit it!

Zumei took a clear look and exploded his emotions.

She won't surrender unless she plants the image of defeat.

"Surrender, hey!!

The collector quickly pressed his face, snatching Zumei's lips.

Her thin arm, which she was trying to resist, jittered and eventually collapsed as she was losing her power.

Fristford and Marc, who were sitting around, laugh out loud so that they could play.

It was a win until the treasurer was brilliant.