Dungeon+Harem+Master

The body of the Orcs has grown tougher than all races since birth.

The thick neck is tough enough not to loosen up with a slight blow, the arms swell like wood tumors, the thick fat covered torso is huge as a barrel, even as far as the thighs that support them go as the women's hips.

Wall for one thing.

It is a meat wall.

But there's always an exception.

The collector, sadly, was used to meat dishes.

"I rather like it"

The superiority of the species overwhelmed by any human being at first sight was only to the extent that I was tired of seeing it if I let the collectors who had experienced so many battles.

With strength on his heel, he jumped. A barrel of meat closes in, still standing on a bar with a gnaw.

It is not an illusion. It was a barrel far from a threat, without a whole sense of dynamism.

The sadness of this barrel or. Its stupid not even trying to take a stand.

I shook my protruding right arm unconstitutionally. Couldn't keep up with the impending speed, Halami Bamballa stared with her straight eyes at her fist, which she struck out with a pompous dumb look.

Oops, dull noise sounded. An iron fist unleashed by the collector struck out straight in the face of the halibut.

The feeling of loosening the skull through thick fat. The Orcs have much less brain capacity than humans, and for that matter, the thickness of the bones in their heads is considerable.

The bones on the fingertips and hands of ordinary people would naturally have been shattered if they had been done with bear knuckles.

but the stiffness of the fist created by the collector beyond the dead line so far transcended that.

It's like getting punched right in the front with a steel hammer. The Caveman's fist was powerful enough to prune the monster's consciousness with a single blow.

Pfft, a scream with a scream that didn't suit the figure popped up.

Halami is scratching the universe with both hands as she swims with her eyes closed. The collector turned behind and extremed his joints as he quickly tangled Halami's left arm.

Arm pull arm stiffening.

Without leaving a trace of dust, he broke his extreme arm.

Michi, Migi, and the ligaments of the halibut pull together and sound a thousand cuts.

"Ahhh."

A cry similar to that of the Terminator was released from the mouth of the pig.

The collector looked down at the oak, which kept spitting white bubbles, as he was pushed down by depression, and threw the tangled spit down on the floor. My arms continue to be extremely tight as they are. I guess nobody expected the battle to be decided in an instant so far. I can't hear one shudder from around. The hall was full of unusual pressures.

"Do you surrender?

"Who, who goes human"

Halami moved her ears tingly and exclaimed as she withstood the severe pain. The collector solved the move and took half a step back.

The Liberation Alliance warriors looked with anticipation at whether to do a rearrangement, but not so sweet either.

Okay, let's move on.

The collector forced him to lean back from his depression as he kicked up Halami's belly thoughtfully.

No matter how hard your neck is, there is a limit in the center of your throat. That is, soft.

Bounced. Bounced high. The zodiac broke his right foot without any effort as he rested on the throat Buddha part of the halibut.

Different sounds rang as the meat ripped.

He pressed the meat until the stiff part of his heel reached the floor.

That was the sad end to a single hit. Try to poke the collector, and rush over to what the Liberation Alliance warrior was a halibut and take a pulse. With a blue face, the warrior looked back to Balmunk and told him.

He's dead.

The nobles and merchants, oops, raised their exclamation. The slave women also hold hands together and raise their yellow voices firmly.

The warriors of the liberation alliance against each other were still looking at each other.

"Are you serious?"

"It can't be."

"It's that Halami Bambara. of fifty killings."

Two names, now too vain, drifted from the mouths of the warriors into shadows.

The win should have been decided from the beginning. That's why Balmunk, too, gave permission to stand pointless. His stomach buildup is easy to understand.

Sacrificing one young man who had no problem taking it up here and disappearing, he engraved the horrors of the liberation alliance on the nobles and merchants, taking the lead and trying to move it as we thought it would be.

Balmunk's expression. It was white as a dead man. Pordina was delighted to take her hand with the slaves of her companions, and even Sir Warren, the heavy town of the nobles, who looked like dead trees, poked his staff and manifested his admiration.

"This, this shouldn't be it. This is not how it should be. My plans..."

After repeatedly crushing everything, Balmunk quickly opened his right hand.

Men who drew the will of the chief. Immediately attacked the collector.

"What. Do you still want to kill me? Sora."

The collector's fist roared. It doesn't mean the men are weak. It's just that they were too bad. Experience in the wilderness, in steep mountains, battling through in dim dungeons was nurturing a man as a warrior at one end.

One of them, when he could retreat gently, a stripped balmunk pronounced a burst of anger from the back of his throat.

"I don't care what happens to the slaves. Ahh!

Hearing that voice, the collector stops the pitch like a doll with a dead battery. Later, the guys did whatever they wanted. A tragic lynch unfolded towards the fallen treasurer. Inside, he even took out thick sticks and equipped chairs and struck them scattered.

Against Pordina, who was about to jump out into the Lord's crisis, he emphatically stopped by emphasizing that, if used itself, the current assault was only moderating.

The treasurer is Pordina's life, but the instantaneous decision was also dull if he saw the light thrust down the throats of his fellow slavers whose hearts were born after the conversation earlier.

You felt it where you hit him, Balmunk ended the lynching. It is a cowardly act, but if you try it on those who are doing it, you will think only to the extent that you have done so to a fierce beast.

Some warriors are withering their voices to justify themselves, saying that justice is upon me, the enemy of the harami.

Earthpane, who was away and watched the behavior in silence, suddenly, snapped and throated, even spilling a funny laugh.

"What's wrong?"

Balmunk bites in an excited state. I couldn't contain my emotions on my own, I looked painful, my left and right were more distressed than that.

"No, this certainly fits your crush. There is no way that the noble warriors of the Liberation Alliance will be defeated by a despicable and vile ruling class breeder. I guess."

"... ugh."

Balmunk looked troubled for a long time, but stroking his face up with his palm, he was returning to his spare face, like before he had begun to stand up.

It was exactly what the leader deserved.

Are you going to put your forms together by beating them sporadically? There are no more signs that Pordina will stop Pordina from reaching out to the same collectors. Yes, Balmunk was such a perfectionist. I will not tolerate anything that disrupts Balmunk's plans. It was intense narcissism worthy of the Lord of the crazy armed groups.

"As planned. The battle is a victory for our allies. Halami's death has been a shame."

Sir Warren's spokesperson approached Balmunk, who let go without showing any hindsight.

"Your Eminence says that there is no way that an inferior human being like you can achieve any ambition."

"This is, My Lord Warren. Exactly. That's the best compliment to bring out our rewards. Now, I have one idea that I've always thought of, but I'm going to let you announce it here. Especially since this is about you ladies, I want you to listen carefully."

The slave women saw the earlier Balmunk assault, and together they strengthened their fright and shrunk their bodies.

When Balmunk gave the instructions, five men lined up with young, tough looking bodies.

Some of them include Merclio. He was gazing hot at only Sarah in a group that was one chunk and trembling.

"They are pathetic and extreme girls who were forced by their greedy slave traders to deprive them of their liberty and rooted in their dignity as human beings. Our righteousness, as its name implies, is to free and give freedom to all the slaves of this world. But even when it comes to immediate liberation, what can we do to them who have been pushed into the cage for a long time and forced to serve unilaterally? Sadly, we do not have the means to solve it instantly. So I thought. In the future, a long and painful battle will continue to be waged to eradicate something called slavery from this world. I want them to support the warrior."

"What do you mean,"

I asked, as the collector who had listened in silence was about to wake himself up.

"Ooh. Does that state still make your mouth profitable? You're a tough guy. [M] Well, let's get back to it. In other words, what I want is for them to do the best they can to become the wives of the young warriors, the mothers of a revolution that will give birth to and nurture new warriors who will support the distant future, the organization."

"Nah."

"Don't be ridiculous!

The merchants curse their mouths, but Balmunk seemed to have fun, taking zestures like waving a conductor stick in the universe, peeling his ni and white teeth and smiling.

Five young men lined up beside each other with tense faces, whether they had been included beforehand.

"Give the warrior Etwald a herka. Give the warrior Dan an amma. Give Warrior Lindsey Pillyo. Sarah for the warrior Merclio. To Marcus the warrior, marry Pordina. Ladies and gentlemen of the Liberation Alliance, as well as the nobles and merchants, if you agree, give a big round of applause!

Was he lurking in the shadow of the door? Straw and many warriors rushed over, whistled, and danced plagiarized. The slave women stiffen themselves more and more to the young people smiling at them as they stifle their faces with their blue faces.

In the midst of thousands of applauses, the merchant men were biting their lips with anger as if it were a flame of a burning melting furnace.

The slave women they had taken care of around them were like concubines. It wasn't just that I beat up a large piece and bought it, but that I had been on the floor for nights and had deep feelings.

The big merchants are all good places to be old when it comes to standards in this world in their fifties and sixties, but as men they are still active. A woman in love who could not have loved over a short period of time is now about to be robbed, precisely under a grand farce.

It was also all the more jealous that the men, who were appreciated by the slave women, looked young and tidy with all their alignments.

It is the instinct as an organism that the old man tries to make up for the youth he has lost with the gold coins he has finally obtained in late life.

The fruit is about to be taken away and greedy by men who don't know any hardship, just because they're young.

With a youthful force no longer in his body, he merely imagines what joyful voices his beloved slaves will raise, so boiling that his bowels are about to rot.

At the same time, they were only old and cunning. Here, outbursts are nothing. Let anger lurk deep into the wrinkles of your skin and wait for it when it strikes back.

"Exactly. That's typical of the cult denomination..."

"Ah?"

To the crush of the treasurer, one of the men, who was about to walk over to the wife whom we had been given, listened and stopped his leg.

Shortly afterwards, the crackling laughter echoed. Whatever it is, it belongs to the collector. Fold the wounded body into a letter and laugh off. Differently, the warriors stopped dancing on their feet and bothered.

"What's wrong!

"Because. Funny thing is, what you're doing isn't the same as distributing bandits' loot. You're a slave. Even if you reason that it's liberation, in short, you can't help yourself in Temehe. It's a mathematical step to lay your hands on people's things. Somewhere in this world, it's liberation. Make me laugh! The world is full of logic! This world still needs slaves. Leave the good and the evil out. Without knowing it, with a sense of righteousness, after I save you, as a reward, you can shake my penis, let me seed it. It's like cattle. Take a look at the women's rashes. It's like I'm not convinced, it's my face. If a beauty wants to hold you, you can either dictate in Temeye or buy it for money, or you can sweat yourself a little bit and struggle anyway. I've earnestly worked hard, saved money, and apologized to the little merchant in the city who bought the young slave woman (Koakindo), bye!

"So shut up. Already, her. Po, Pordina is my wife. Stop making insulting remarks about her!

"Heh. How far out is he, brother? In the first place, your Porkbits can't stand a thousand Pordina mites for three seconds."

"Hey, Marcus. Don't deal with him. A waste of time."

"Your husband."

Pordina cruised to shake off her grabbed hand, but looked at the white blade thrust into the possessor's throat and glimpsed it.

"Oops, Pordina. Better not defy my judgment. Otherwise, I don't know what happens to your ex-husband.

Balmunk fished Ni's lips even strangely when he put his finger on Poldina's jaw.

"If you're going to recognize me as a person in public, I'd like you to let me choose who I'm dealing with."

"You can't. You guys. Often, let's give it a break. Even if it doesn't last the night, I can twist it for as long as I want to consolidate the couple's bond. Let me show you something masculine. Your husband kept his fingers shut. Anyway, there's nothing you guys can do."

"Well, this is the room we were given. Come in."

Pordina was pretending to be an obedient and chaste girl on the surface, while Marcus drew her arm, but the fruit, her bowels were boiling back more than anyone else.

Even before the construction of the slave liberation, I can't feel one thing realistic, and even the fierce rotten smell of it begins in the first place. I don't think the young man walking in front of us, no matter how he sees it, treats himself as one woman. As the keeper of the LORD had said, only the lowliness of a thief who had given him his share could not resist about his nose sexually.

"Um, Marcus. My hand hurts."

After just a slight weakness and seeing how things were going, Marcus, for a moment, hesitated, but eventually came out strong. within the scope of the assumption.

"Oh, I'm sorry. No, I don't think so. I'm your husband from today on. Don't go against my way. Don't complain. Got it?

"Yes......"

Relax and pretend to be struck by authority. You cared for the slave's subordination, Marcus snorted and took Pordina's hand again.

Shit. I want to twist it. Strong restraint was needed.

Marcus stripped barbarity as soon as he was alone in a given private room. The man's eyes, from start to finish, don't try to cling to Pordina's chest and ass and leave. The stupidity of trying to reveal so far and wield authority that is not even real was an award.

"Yes, okay. We're a couple. And from now on, a long battle for freedom awaits. Until now, you know."

"Yes."

"We may not even be able to make enough time together to talk about our vacation. I can't do that. Look, we're chosen warriors. Serving it shall be your supreme pleasure. Don't get it."

Marcus definitely puts a word of confirmation in every part of the text. Less vocabulary. Compared to the Lord, the upbringing is obviously low and the intelligence inferior.

If it is the Lord, what if these are the cases? You should have told one of those jokes that was willing to appease the woman. Marcus lacked leeway in all respects and lacked even his charm as a man.

Now, unless someone can marry you, a decent woman won't deal with you. Sure, he looks relatively neat, but that's not all he can do. I don't feel fun or calm talking.

The woman doesn't seem to care about anything and the way she scores around it is pretty cynical. Even in that sense, Marcus could only be graded as out of the question, thinking of his Lord when he first met him.

"Huh."

"What, that thoughtless reply! And get on your knees right there and serve mine. Well, you were a slave, you'd be a good one. Ku, ku fu"

After all, Marcus only thinks about himself to the extent of a moving meat doll from the beginning.

I was only a little concerned about putting such a young young man in my hands, but the worry was he himself took it away. Now, I have to thank you for that.

I grinned lightly, niggling. Oh, I shouldn't.

"Excuse me."

"Oh, whoa, whoa."

Pordina felt just a little pity for Marcus as he knelt on the floor, leaping his chest against expectations and following what was angry. But the pity is also instantaneous, and perseverance, for example, never does.

"Whoa, hey, come on, come on"

Rhythmically drop your fingers stretched out to your ankles with sara and thighs. Expect a mouth slut, or Marcus's hips are dancing gawking and obscene. It was the face of the abalone itself.

"I wanted to be together soon, too."

"Too much!

Pordina grabbed both of Marcus's ankles with all her might and broke them. It shattered the wafers of baked confectionery, but it was easy.

I put my palms on both knees falling down as I continued. Marcus' tear eyes are imminent. I'm sorry, and I gripped my five fingers vigorously, winking cutely.

And the sound of the bones roaring hard dried up and sounded.

Marcus is mercilessly destroyed with both ankles, knees, and falls from his face. Pordina flipped the knuckles with skilled hands like peeling potatoes when she put her hands on the man's forehead and jaw.

The result would have been more obvious than seeing fire if the human neck had been turned to a position where it was structurally immobile.

fu, and red and black blood erupted from the man's throat. Quickly retreat to avoid fouling. Marcus, shook his body just a little bit, immediately stopped breathing.

Pordina said, "I did it!," he said, pointing his tail all the way and shaking it hard left and right, leaving the room as if it had been bounced.

"What are you doing in a strange position?"

"Huh? Is this it? This is just a station Tsubaki. Your daughter will do the same."

"Who does it? Such an outfit..."

Victoire stuck his cheek to the table, looking sideways at Hannah's workout called Mahogany Station Tsubaki. After being taken to the Hotel Royal Blossom, they tried to escape by poking a gap and were isolated because they were scattered.

Nothing in the room is going to kill your spare time with just a bed and a little furniture. Hannah was working out her routine just because she was feeling better.

Horsewalking is also called a horseback riding ceremony, which is just the basics of continuing to hold outfits across horses.

If the shape is more irregular than in ancient times, the law will not survive. Accurate operation for martial artists and breathing the overhead system required daily rough drilling.

Hannah's body, though thin and luxurious in appearance, has been stained with every technique she's been tapped into since she started walking all the way down to the bone marrow. She was a man of effort.

"I don't get tired of it. I do it well. I'm a little hungry, huh?"

"Also. Lady, I've been neglecting to train in martial arts lately. Are you hungry?

"Oh, no. Hey, wait a minute! Do I look like that? Do I look fat? Right, right. You're lying.

"It may not look the same, but meat is hard to understand because it gets inside your body. Haha. One of these days, the brave might point it out to you."

"In case that happens, I'll hurt myself."

"Oh. Didn't you dump a human when you were a knight?

"Throw it away! I haven't dumped a woman yet. All right, a little physical blur."

"Move it, is it another one-handed fist stand? You said you didn't like it because your fingers get thicker."

"Hmm. Compared to the menace of belly meat, there's nothing wrong with this. That."

"Ugh. Also, you can see the whole pants. Oh, why are you choosing the color of beige again? Even though Hannah has something cute for you. Cute is justice."

"I can wear that. Well, more or less, there was a hole in the important part. Ah. Bad product!

"Huh. I deliberately made that easy for the brave man to plug in..."

"Sa, lumpy!? Pervert, you pervert."

"Mm-hmm. It's a couple, isn't it? It must be the usual. Huh. What's that face? Let's not joke about the fact that we haven't had a couple yet."

"... wah, kah"

"What? I can't hear you."

"I didn't, I'm sorry"

"Huh. Oh, yeah. Oh, is that right? Haha. Let's wait for a day when it's natural."

"Nno. Again, fool around. Hannah's."

"Hannah, I haven't been a girl yet. It's a raw shot, okay?"

"So that's what I call plain. Let's just say I'm the mainstay!

"Oh, it's so hard, already."

"Oh, that's a lot of excitement."

And the door of the entrance opened, and a little shadow appeared.

The LORD of voices was a temple. He approached me by swinging left and right with a curved back in odd rhythm.

The motion was freaking out and the voice had power. When I was old, like, twenty-four or five?

Chestnut bright hair is lightly wavy. I guess I haven't combed it in a long time, by the way, it was bouncing.

"I am, Giampiero. Needless to say, he's a Liberation Alliance warrior. Not so far."

When the man named him that, walking over quickly, he sat back on the bed. Victoire, when he immediately took a distance from Giampiero, looked at the man zippily from toe to top of his head with his nagging eyes and sounded his nose.

"I didn't ask for your name. I don't care, get us the hell out of here."

"Come on, isn't there a way to be that mouthful? Assuming I did, did you say Victoire or something? Hehe, that's a lot of names. You're the man named to the pavilion."

"Uh, lady, sometime, we're getting bigamous."

"That's not true. Don't tell me you missed it, too. Mostly, I'm already married."

"I don't know about Shabba. In the first place, this story will be revealed by the leader of the Alliance for Liberation, because Mr. Balmunk has made up his mind. Hehe. You should also watch."

"Wow. So what do we do about Hannah's departure?"

"You don't have to worry too much. This is bullshit, dude!

"Hehe. Well, don't hate me that much. I may be a little strange to people, but I'm a nice guy to my wife. Most importantly, as long as you're a good boy to listen to the pawn master. And I wanted to finish consolidating the couple, if possible. Sounds impossible."

"I say. Comrade Giampiero. Governor Balmunk is here for you!

When I wondered if a fierce knock had been made, the Young Liberation Alliance decree jumped in haste.

As if Giampiero had a hunch about it, he grinned softly, jumping off the bed and following the decree. Batan and, the door closes and the silence returns.

"Speaking of which, should I have fled now?"

Victoire reacted with a tremendous face to Hannah's crush.

The leader of the Liberation Alliance, Balmunk, demanded a hostage ransom from the Duke of Erkühl, who would be in formation in front of the Hotel Royal Blossom.

First, 100 million p (pounds) per nobleman; 500 million p (pounds) per merchant.

Extremely, a billion P (pounds) was spent on Sir Warren.

With thirteen nobles, four merchants, plus Sir Warren, the sum requested is four and a half billion P (pounds sterling) in total. About 430 billion yen in Japanese yen was a broken price.

Inside this, there is no value for the treasurer. For he was seen, from Balmunk, in one piece with Shylock.

The Duke of Erkühr turned his lips bright blue and blubbery trembled as he glanced at the request left by the Liberation Alliance's military ambassador. But he was a nobleman, and he just happened to stay, and he didn't have that much of a hand in hand.

"Gottliep. Can you collect all that money right now"

"No. Probably not even in normal times. On top of that, the castle gate is now occupied and the transportation network to various locations is also blocked. First of all, there's no way that a single piece of copper money could have been taken out by that upsetting city bank with money that's not supposed to be returned."

The deputy Gottliep replied, making the shredded cheeks even bluer and blacker.

"Besides, the noble history, the higher it is, the poorer and the more blue breathing it is, the more you know the Duke than it has begun right now. The slave traders won't think of it as a ransom, fart or anything like 500 million dollars, but you can't collect money as one of them right now."

"I know I can't. Ask the bureau, the accounting firm, each merchant guild to scratch it, just scratch it. At the very least, leave only the signs of your efforts, even if you survive, not after us."

"But it's a waste of effort."

"There's no waste of effort."

Gottliep looked up at the commander with a frightened face.