Dungeon+Harem+Master

Glendor came out with a spear in quick motion when he raised his voice like a weird bird.

It is a single spear with both hands spread out.

Not as short as a sword, not as long as a regular spear.

It is a halfway point where the collectors have never confronted each other before.

Moments, I stayed in response.

The stand-up determines victory and defeat at the moment.

Oh, it was already too late when I thought. As Glendor's spear approached him, he jumped into his chest like a snake, bringing a gnaw and a sickle to roar. The polished mirror-like tips glowed white. Put up your sword, you don't have time to prevent it. Before his head, his body turned backwards. The clothes on his chest made a noise and tore, then the blinding pain ran through his whole body like a current.

- I got hit.

But the wound is shallow.

The alarm rang hard deep in my head that I should move on to the attack before I thought about it. The collector swung aimlessly and uncertainly when he could focus on the pattern he gripped.

Did this work? It sounded like a rubbing noise hit the spear. Take a distance while rolling. The appearance of Glendor. I was already that far away. An emotion that could not be taken as anger or fear went wild like a red lotus flame at the core of my body. I found hot blood spreading through my chest.

Glendor releases his short spear straight with an exact, incomparable thrust.

I barked. I waved my long sword horizontally as I barked. I still had a nasty response like beating up a cancer and an iron plate. Glendor aggressively prevented a long sword blow with a round shield on his left hand.

And, if it does, the only way to do it is to even overwhelm it by hand. When he held the black lion in his hands, he used his full strength and struck and waved hard to the left to the right. The collector is not familiar with regular swordsmanship. When I was a kid, my grandfather taught me how to start. Most of the moves he can have are hands-on swordsmanship that he won by sharpening his bones in this world. What is needed on the battlefield is strength and speed, not fine moulding or foot judgment. If it comes down to slashing each other, it's always better to hurt the enemy first and take away a little fighting ability. Humans are vulnerable to pain. In fact, even if the body defect is not so deep, it is often easily shocked to death by pain. If we kill each other, a little pain will be paralyzed by adrenaline secreted in the brain, but the hand wounds we receive before the body builds up will give the opponent a great advantage. The nerves of the body are especially concentrated at the fingertips, sharper than anyone thinks. Sometimes a little sensory discrepancy divides the battle in slashing each other using a blade to exchange lives. Speaking of which, the collector was exceptional and resistant to pain. Insects and others may shut out feelings for pain from the whole body when they are dying, but this should not be done. Pain is an important signal for a living organism. Let's just say that putting this aside is synonymous with throwing out living. Pain is not like being able to train and get used to.

Bear it.

In that regard, the treasurer was better than any human being.

- What hurts hurts.

Because if you hold a wound like a child and nod on the spot, there's no way the enemy will stop attacking you. Your life will only crush you. In order to eliminate the pain, first of all, there is no other way than to slaughter the present enemy.

The collector carried out his slaughter like a wild hurricane, almost apnea.

Swinging the blade continuously, a heavy iron mass, is nothing more than a harsh strain on the muscles.

Most importantly, it was acceptable to the recipient.

Glendor was driven in agony as he was desperately prevented from attacking with a round shield.

You don't have to give me that look.

The skill of the Caveman is an unscrupulous slaughter with no standing and nothing.

However, each blow was a special struggle.

If the collector waves his sword, Glendor releases a return blow.

The elf warrior's technique is skilled and certain, but the center of the possessor's body.

The so-called inability to capture the true core remained merely to tear apart shoulders, arms and parts of cheeks.

We sucked each other's feet to the earth in a pitch and shot each other at close range.

The power and speed of the collector filled the difference in Glendor's excellent skill.

Did you decide that there would be no discomfort as it was?

Glendor showed that if he moved diagonally to the right like the wind, he would hit him with a big swing.

It is a clever feint.

It was the fodder's failure to turn to receive instantaneously.

Sleep the blade of the black lion horizontally.

In other words, it shifted the focus of the defense to the top.

For a moment, a round shield attached to Glendor's left arm was thrown like a flying swallow.

I didn't even have time to feel scared.

I twist my body instantly, trying instinctively to avoid it, but I can't make it.

The iron mass broke a few ribs together as it protruded straight into the torso.

An eye burning shock. I stop breathing. My heart stops.

In other words, the body is stiff.

It's not the Glendor that misses that gap.

The tip of a vertically wielded spear approaches the brain.

I managed to take it in the belly of the long sword I put to sleep.

but the secret was hidden in the patterned part.

The half part of the single spear was separated when it broke into two pieces.

A clever disguise to wrap your tongue around. It was a magical gimmick, poking psychological gaps.

Another tip peeked into his face from the lower half where he was being gripped.

The collector who turned to the machete exposed his defenseless belly dressed with his arms raised.

"Shit-!"

"I got it!!

A spear shrunk about seventy centimeters deep through the belly of the collector.

Loulou's screaming. I echoed in my head with a high voice.

A whale wave rose from the men who swallowed their spirits and watched them stand.

The tip of the spear, first cold, the next moment, burned hot.

The frame of sight deflected violently like boiled candy.

It burned and ashed as the world wandered.

Something like a magma creeps up from my throat. My own blood has refluxed.

Strength and temper spill out of your whole body.

Missing this opportunity is absolutely impossible.

Glendor is a warring warrior. You should definitely try to stab Todome.

The treasurer waited for the moment, and a few moments later, it came.

An indefensible face. Even those of a prudent character can't help but be proud.

In the shadow of an affront, I found an extremely small opportunity to win.

The collector looked at his lips in a cylinder and blew the blood tide in his mouth violently.

Blood paste sticks more than you can imagine, and if this gets into your eyes, it's not very, but you can't keep your eyes open.

That means you lose your ability to continue fighting.

I could see Glendor raising his left hand aggressively and covering his face. The blood released like an arrow stained through the man's palm and wet his face violently. I hear low groans. There is no earlier glory on the tip of the spear, which was rolled out with no aim in mind, that was putting his life at stake. Only wear a void with a stiff shoulder tip.

That was the last attack of Glendor's life.

The treasurer does not withstand the pain. Without trying to force himself to stand, he quickly slammed his long sword against Grendle's leg as he fell in, pulled by gravity.

Blunt response to breaking bones.

The Special Tibian Slash was decided on Glendor's left leg.

The screaming of earlobes sounded long.

At the same time, a spear tip protruded to his back. I did hear the sound of my spine being smashed.

The collector scratched his feet like a bug stranded on a pin, still squeezing the remaining force and releasing a slender shot upwards.

Fortunately, Glendor's single spear at this time was separating into two pieces, and length and speed were not enough for the power of the special, and he never ate into his back with such a strong force.

This left the collectors room to fight back and became part of this decision to win or lose.

The collector's one-handed poke deeply decided and pierced Glendor's defenseless throat whistle.

Momentum broke through the wet obstacle paper, the blade cleaved a white chunk of meat.

The black lion's cold body slipped beautifully from Glendor's throat buddha to the edge of the basin.

You were sure of the victory, and Glendor had a stunned look on his face.

The man, who opened his eyes to the limit and opened his big mouth, slid the spear off his fingertips, showing a creeping motion and falling to the front with the void staring at him, desperate.

It is a reversal play of the Amazing Zoo. Everyone on the spot had no doubt about Glendor's victory.

The collector stopped moving with his sword in his hand when he fell from his face into a depression with the men frozen on the spot in their asses. At the same time, it is the remnants of BattleSeek who cannot remain silent. They filled the neighborhood with sticky killings by pulling through each score as they surrounded Louloulou and Bastian, who held up the treasurer.

(I thought this would happen. Whether I win or lose, they weren't even willing to give it back alive...)

Immortality Red, an immortal crest engraved on the chest of the treasurer, instantly repairs the wound. Even if it wasn't a fatal injury, the lost health was too great. If you can't stand up like this, it's obvious that you want to stop by and get stuck. Loulou, as he held the head of the LORD to his chest as he covered the treasurer, roared sharply and ferociously as if he were a mother bear protecting my son, toward the men who stuffed him with zillions.

"Your Admiral has been taken over by the Krands! We've decided to win or lose. Or can the defeated soldier lose even the pride of the meadow like a real wild dog if thrown out of the herd and not keep one promise!!

"Ha. No kidding. I thought I'd bring back congratulations and Temei and the others alive."

"The clandestine of pleas is the breath of bugs. Jizzy over there would be a famous general, but she wouldn't beat her age. Raise your neck without labor and you'll find as many places to hire us as you want."

"More than that, Loulou. Follow the fly on your head more than you do on your own. You have a history of betrayal...! The name of the honorable meadow elf, and worship the Lord of man."

"It's a waste of money. If I catch you, I'll make you a substitute toy for everyone here! I haven't eaten or eaten in a long time since I lost. That's why I haven't smelled a woman's skin in a while. Think about what this means."

"Let's just face it this way. I can't help but be bitter when I hit something I'm proud of on my belly down there......! Let me kneel, let me shake, I'll poke you in the back and kill you. Be prepared."

Whether there was a build-up of depression or the men screamed as if they had cut the weir. Apparently, what they wanted was to be focused on a treat called Loulou, which hung in front of them more than their neck.

"Heh. That's a lot, isn't it? Loulou."

"Master Klund, I hope you can't force me to talk to you. I touch your body."

"Time, Can You Buy"

"Even if I risk my life"

Loulou, when he entrusted the collector to the Bastian, proceeded in a slow foothold. She, with a barely stray hand, loosened her hips pants and dropped them to the ground to expose her lower body. Slurry legs on thin shorts illuminate the blue and white morning burn creating a seductive aesthetic. The men, how hungry they were for women, diverted their consciousness from the score in their hands and swallowed their raw spit.

"Well. My body. I've responded to your request, but I wonder."

"Yes, begging for life now? It's late!"

"Yes, but. Temehe is formerly of the same family. I'm here, if you mean to serve everyone sincerely, hey. What do you say, everybody?

"Heh, heh. Well, if you're more sincere about serving me than a woman who doesn't like to be held, then you're in a better mood."

"Hey. So I'm the only one who can help you?

"And it's not just down there. Take it off, too! Mm, show me your chest too."

Loulou stretched his hands behind his head in such a way that he had no choice.

At first glance, the glossy movement was also the counter-attack wolf smoke that poked through the gaps of the men.

Moment of the moment.

Loulou threw about four at the same time with such precision that he almost wanted to applaud when he grabbed out the knife he had hidden on his back. The throwing knife, when it spread radially, caused the blood smoke to blow up as it was breathing beautifully into the foreheads of the men, who had been exposed to dumb squirts.

"You're kidding me!

"I'll kill you!!

Five men arrive towards Loulou. As the collector stood up trying to thrust the Bastian, he picked up and threw the stone at his feet while fluttering. The man who attacked him directly from the front, when he was smashed in the face, whimpered up and fell to the front. My buddy who became an obstacle took my leg and the two fall like nothing else. Loulou quickly shook his thick dagger, significantly injuring the man's throat whistle and right head. It was the Bastians who opened the breakthrough. With a rigid sword that harnessed his pride, he instantly slashed and lay down the three men, dragged down the man who stood flat on the horse, holding the possessor aside and jumped on lightly.

"Hold on tight!

Loulou continued to throw his dagger at the chasing elves as he hijacked behind the old general. Two shadows rolled into the ground. On the earth, which the morning and the sun began to shed, there is also a hint of milky colour. About eight of them were defeated. Is the rest something like twelve? Behind me, about seven horseback riders chase me. If so, the bow of step elf pride roars.

An arrow cut and released by the wind stood precisely against Bastian's shoulder. The old general groans low and still makes the horse run without letting go of the reins. Loulou shouted hysterically in a kinky voice as he threw his last knife at the chaser.

"General!"

"See you soon. Nevertheless, there is no winning shot at fighting on horseback like this. In the meantime, we're gonna get out of there."

A small building was seen on a small high hill pointed out by the Bastians. It was an ancient fortress built by scratching up the soil. Narrow, surrounded by dirt walls on all sides. It is a half-dead ruin.

When they got off the horse, the three fled into it.

The intersections of the fortifications made by pressing and consolidating the soil are narrow, such that one can finally pass through.

If you're here, you don't have to worry about getting sniped with a bow.

But there was no way out of the coarse cabin, and the shadow of the enemy approaching from the front came close with a single breath killing. For a long time, the floaters have been inhabited, and the somewhat lively miscellaneous daily necessities are rolling there.

The collector held his poked belly bare with his eyes closed. Loulou took the cloth out of his bag of hips and made him stop waving at it trying to hit the wound. The bleeding is stopped by the power of the crest. Nevertheless, there is no other way to regain lost health than to put aside time.

There is too much blood. Glendor was a strong enemy inside. If you make a mistake, it could be this one that was a wreck.

"Lord Klund. You think you can move?

"Somehow, yeah. I can't, but I can't."

Bastian, who stood by his sword at the door, asked for care in a low voice.

In fact, it's hard to clean up more than ten enemies on your own with your current strength, but with the support of both of you, you'll figure it out. Thus, not a single man had so much courage in his enemies, from where they were attacking their hunted down selves. It resembles a hunter waiting blurry in front of a nest hole for a wounded rabbit. With that in mind, I could see Loulou's long ears tickling as he leaned in. Moving his gaze to the door, white smoke pours into the room without hesitation.

"They're going to give us a lot of money."

"Smoked salmon for breakfast?

The collector, when he stood up, took off his coat and hung it on Loulou. As it is, we must fight in unfavourable circumstances with our sights completely deprived. Before they crush your eyes, settle for it. When I pulled out the sword, I managed to get up.

"Grandpa, Loulou. Cover me. Kata at once"

Quickly or with the lower structure taken, he rushed out.

My stomach and back hurt slightly but it is inevitable.

The enemy would expect to pop up after some time. The only way to survive is to poke at that void. Elves have much better hearing than humans. In the smoke blocked from sight, the other would surely be more advantageous.

Then only control the destination.

With his breath stuffed, he broke his hips and ran. You don't need to open your eyes. The killing spirit emitted by the enemy was easily understood without having to look at it with an eye.

Right, you two. One to the left.

The collector, squeezing the black lion, rolled out the slaughter to the left and right. Waste of power was missing, had it reached a certain frontier? The attack, which was carried out without wasting any dimensions, had killed three elves during only a few moments when morning dew spilled. All over the smoke, screaming and whimpering began to flow.

That was a signal that the Bastians and Loulou had started the fight.

(Now the enemy shouldn't be able to squeeze the target into one of me...!

From the right diagonal rear, I felt a sharp sword. Bringing the long sword backwards, it just rolled out backwards. Response to choosing meat. How, and I read a stream of air stretching out to a man who collapsed. Perhaps Loulou stabbed Todome. Moving through the white smoke, he eventually stepped out on the other side.

"Wow."

I almost bumped into a guy on the encounter. The collector scowled the man's torso in front of him as he rolled out his long sword reflexively. The man, who was broken off by each leather breastplate, fell backwards from his head and stopped moving as soon as he could. If you look, about four men were collecting and burning wood cuts. I wonder if you didn't think it would come this far, the pocan look rather than young.

"I'm not a smoked salmon!

The collector waved his long sword horizontally as he kicked the ground and jumped.

One was slashed in the throat, the other in the face, raised blood smoke and died. Feet on the back of the man who ate the bubble and escaped, sealing the movement. I grabbed the long sword with both hands and dropped it vertically. The cutting edge could be sewn to the ground as he stood against the midline of his back and raised a blood splash. One of the others is fleeing without seeing it later. The collector shook and threw the sword he had picked up. The blade slipped brilliantly forward from the man's flank and slaughtered without missing it. And as the treasurer breathed, and set off the burning fire, he slammed his knee against the ground, and blushed wildly. After a while, the smoke that was wrapping the fort cleared up and revealed its sight.

"Master Klund!

"Loulou, Grandpa. Are you all right..."

"Oh, somehow"

On a clear hill, twelve wrecks rolled gradually. It is a complete victory.

- I'm just tired, though.

Bastian crouched down in front of the keeper and turned his back with a long mustache.

I politely said no, even though it would be my concern to give him a blow.

"Why, you can't go back to the city with that injury"

"You know, Grandpa. This cleaning is an unexpected waste of time, but remember why we came here in the first place."

Bastian stood up in a bitter manner, his hands widening and yelling out loud.

"That's not the case!

"No, that's the case. Sa, Loulou. You, wake up the people around there and let them take you to Mount Tyrat. Hey, don't look like that. You know, it's Grandpa. Don't get me wrong because I'm a good guy. Now, if you have to get it, it's not my heart, it's a tiny flower blooming at the top of the mountain. Go before my ass blows in cowardice. Oh, yeah. Loulou, you keep up with your grandfather. I'm going to head back to the city and wait slowly for Rebecca at the tavern. Oh, and. If Grandpa throws it away and comes back first, he won't talk to you anymore. Ha, don't cry. Don't cry. This much scratch, my God. It's the toughest thing for a man. It's about being taken in love with a woman. It doesn't matter how old you are. If you look at a good woman, you want it to be yours because it's a man's saga."

I don't remember where or how I got back to the city. Perhaps the elves' missed horses were picked up and made to run, and when they reached the castle gate of Silver Villago, the sun was already setting. When I was flustered and traveled around the crowded city and arrived at the liquor store "Walnut," it was about the mouth of a night.

"What's wrong with you, that wound!?

"Bad. Just give me a break"

The collector began to snore and fall asleep as he let his muddy body soak on the table as well. Completely unconscious. That's as if you switched off the machine. How much time had passed was so busy in the store. Look, there's a thin blanket on my shoulder. Is it Rebecca's concern? The collector waved toward Rebecca, who was arriving at the artisan-style men's table as he put his face out of the borough blanket. When she laughed affectionately at the young man, she took a seat and approached the collector. The thick smell of fat powder pounded my nose tip.

"Blanket, Amongst other things"

"No, thank you. You suddenly fall asleep in the store without paying your seats. Worst customer ever, at all. So what is it?"

"Whatever. What?"

"So that injury! Where have you even been? Oh, why, I can't believe you have to worry about a bastard like me, either. Whoa."

"Nothing. You didn't ask for it."

"That's what makes me angry! More importantly! Why, I don't get anything out of a carracket. I care about you, I'm angry with myself!

"And I don't know. By the way, isn't Grandpa here yet?

"Grandpa? So, maybe you guys seriously went looking for a romless smile?

Is that why you're even getting that big injury? Isn't that really stupid? Are you going to die? No, no, really. So yeah!!

"Ugh. Leave me alone..."

Rebecca began her criticism regarding the deeds of the collector as furiously as she did. I know why. Before putting out the sign, he entered the store only once and began snoring in our face. Circumstances are also a mean standoff between crappy men, and they are highly disruptive to sales. The collector became a shellfish. As she pierces a silent line, Rebecca pulls her earlobes around her heels. This hurts inside, plain. You can't be serious about a woman. The collector began to pretend he slept when he slammed against the table again.

"But if you're serious about making a bet about Mom, it's bad for Grandpa, but I guess one of Adolph's wins"

"Huh."

To Rebecca's words, lookin 'at the counter, there was a pile of Romless Smiles, somewhat seated. The collector can't help but accidentally white-eyed with his mouth open. Beyond the flowers, a bewildered looking Sophia quietly stands.

Adolph cheered even more pleasantly in the face of the man who did something when he approached the collector with a winning face.

"And well, this is the power of a man, lad. Do you still have any complaints?"

When the collector weakened severely, he was disappointed. Dropped his shoulders. To this, Adolph also raised his suspicion that he had lowered his drinks, which seemed pleasant.

- Perhaps you can't beat the power of gold?

Even though it's out of season, it's not a big deal to collect this much in one or both days with your financial resources.

"Shit. Damn!"

"You, why aren't you so much about yourself?"

The collector, nagging and slamming the table, stumbled straight into it.

It is a complete loss after all that slapping at the mouth.

Something was getting too confusing to cry about.

When the collector was in the same position, a shadow shook behind him.

Something is offered at hand.

I guess Rebecca distracted me and even handkerchief came by. I was applauded for pity.

"I don't care. It's the one. Leave me alone."

"No, I'm not..."

"Well, what the hell!

"The bill for the day before yesterday's eating and drinking"

……

Upon receiving the bill, the collector rounded his nose to Kushaksha.

"Oh, my God! You idiot!"

"Ugh! Don't worry about me!

"Oh, my God, oh, my God"

As I was fighting Rebecca, who grabbed me, the entrance door made a noise and opened.

It is Bastian and Loulou.

Especially as Bastian had just returned from the battlefield, looking at the flowers on the counter with a devastated face. What he had in his hand was certainly a Romless Smilet, but what a bleak size and shade compared to what Adolph the butcher had conveniently put things in gold. Loulou, who was by his side, rushed over with a tote of shoe noise as he found himself a collector.

"I'm sorry. I struggled with the general to find it, but that's all I could find."

"No. You did a great job."

Bastian gave him a round of luxury in his hand, looking grumpy to see and still biting his lips with regret when he thanked Sophia.

"Lord Sophia. Sadly, this is the only thing I could find."

"... Bastian. I can't accept anything like this."

Sophia's words. Bastian's face stains the color of despair. In contrast, Adolph the straw had a full grin. Spring in this world, something like that.

"Right. I guess so. It would be annoying to have flowers sent to such an old man. I'm sorry I offended you. I'm not getting anywhere near this store anymore."

Bastian circles his back and returns to the door where he came in. The Romless Smilet in your hand falls to the floor without force. Sophia thought she was staring at Ji and his flowers, and rushed out gently, jumping from behind to Bastian's back.

"Lord Sophia...?

"You guys are on your own! Without regard for people's feelings, do something about betting on your own! Awesome because you have considered my feelings!!

"Shh, I'm sorry..."

"So many injuries......! Terrible, terrible wound. What are you going to do with risking your life for something that's going to be okay, this crap! You have no idea how I've felt since you left the city!? I don't want these tiny flowers!

Bastian turned around and hugged Sophia from the front, pulling her lips together vigorously as she did. Adolph the butcher does not even pickle while still solidifying like a statue. The drunkards in the store, who were quiet and watching the story go on, cheered more and more.

"Sophia, I like your lord. Stay with Noon!

"Yes."

- Well, there's no need for blame.

The collector glanced down at Adolph as he stunned his hands and sat down as he watched them pull up upstairs.

"Why, why not? Impossible, this will never happen."

Adolph, the butcher, was crying in a man's cry with a large grain of tears. Come to think of it, it would be true that the man in front of me was also in deep love with Sophia. What to do with out-of-season flowers is just a trigger. In that sense, it was the presence of this man who served to push Bastian's back, who was timid of love.

- I kind of felt terribly sorry for him.

You were in love with Mr. Sophia, too.

"That's right. I loved Sophia."

The collector gently slapped his middle-aged back like a round little pig and narrowed his eyes as he pounded.

"Why don't you change the banks of the river and swallow again? I'll buy you a drink. I know a nice place called the Silver Carriage Pavilion."

The collector leaves the store softly as he lends his shoulders to a middle-aged man who cries with his face shattered. The light of the pale moon and Loulou followed the two shadows that disappeared into the hustle and bustle everywhere.