Dungeon+Harem+Master

The sound of the cathedral's long desk playing intermittently sounded. It was because Raffaello, bestialized to Minotaur, had pushed the obstacle as nothing, like a Russell car.

A piece of wood is quickly cut and blown up in space, causing dusty white smoke to rise.

I don't have time to avoid it. A man is determined to be a head-on contender. When he lowered himself, the collector set the black lion on a large upper stage and joined him in four with a monster running up like a train and letting the floorboards roar.

Gosh. A cloudy but awesome noise rang in my head. Barely, it was possible to avoid only two horns that were sharpened like swords, but as soon as they came into contact with Raffaello, the body of the collector was slightly bounced off, like a rubber patch.

The collector's body is not lightweight. Back length will exceed one hundred eighty and weight will not drop eighty-five due to muscle gain. But what flesh is this monster in the twilight of the other world?

The weight of the body is added to the attack power of the organism as it is. If you are an individual without witchcraft, let alone rely on your own flesh, first of all, you would not even stand on the same mound as your enemies.

It was a shock like falling apart all over my body. The collector danced high into the void, spitting blood reflexes as he slammed into the wall.

Fragments of the stripped wall, finely shattered, are dangling like fog. Time seemed to have been inadvertently consolidated. On the retina, every piece of white stone appeared in the comma feed and flowed. My tympanic membrane was paralyzed with gin and I became a resident of a silent world.

I felt a severe paralysis when I wondered if the brain was severely incandescent, as if the high voltage runoff was frequent. Before falling to the floor, he was pushed against the wall by the giant Raffaello who had advanced.

It is an interminable sense of oppression. Riggly, full of bones, climbed, and screamed.

I can't breathe. So much so that the eyeballs are going to make a michi noise and be forced out. Still, he connected his faint consciousness and was distressed not to barely drop only his sword.

Raffaello repeatedly pushes and pulls as if he enjoys this reaction. Each time, a squeaky voice, like a geek, was spit out thin and long.

My lungs are looking for oxygen. There is a crack in each of the ribs, and it is deformed into sausage. Looks like repetitive bones are breaking through the inside of your body.

"Oh. It's a lot less expensive if you were slapping me in the mouth"

A shoulder raised with giant meat sands the treasurer with overwhelming force against the wall.

Vertigo, cormorant, cormorant, and.

I heard the sound of crushed bones being further pressurized and obstinately destroyed, and I was going mad.

Ouch, etc., well beyond the dimension. Thoughts get caught up in just that.

Vestified Raffaello's body is no longer that level of hardness, like he worked out or something.

It's a muscle in a completely different dimension from humans. There is no way that a crane and a human can compete against power.

Mississippi, and the sound of the house ringing constantly in my ear. The collector, nevertheless, squeezed his temper from the bottom of his stomach with a loss and slammed the long sword in his hand with momentum towards Raffaello.

"Oh. I didn't know you still had this much power. Normally, it's a level of boredom."

"Oh, shit, ha-!"

It felt like a giant shoreline slap.

- This is, like, bad. Understandable from previous combat experience. This meat hardness was not a silo thing that could be destroyed only by hand movements.

Raffaello's upper body is beastified to cattle and therefore thick scorched brown body hair, covered with biscuits. The fur of the beast is the only thing that boasts considerable defense.

Even about dogs and cats, an amateur unfamiliar with blade handling can't shake down a blinding blade and apply one scratch. That's how sturdy fur is.

On top of that, after beastification, the swollen muscles were thick in the kettle difference. This doesn't go through the attack inside unless it's decided at an extra good time. As much, Raffaello's defense was awesome, making him aware of deep despair.

Sandwiched by the wall, a bitter blow carried out as he became a pepper ended up slightly feeding the cutting tip of the blade into Raffaello's shoulder.

Hard. Looks like he's pressing a stick against a chunk of iron.

Besides, it's like I'm powerless in this position. The alveoli are screaming and craving oxygen.

Arms. Arms.

You have to move your arms to fight back. The retina ripped and the world stained bright red.

Breathe. You have to breathe. All thoughts precede me, my body doesn't follow me. All the rush recruited.

"You should try your best for an adventurer."

Fluffy, my body danced in the void. When Raffaello grabbed his left arm, he threw the collector on the other side this time, as if throwing away a broken toy.

- Ku, that.

Bad, but my body couldn't react. As a boat flirting with a storm.

Bum, and. Flying to hear a tremendous wind-cut sound, the body clashed against the wall.

The image of the bowl of the head squeaking and the contents spilling loosely. My shoulder is completely dislocated because I grabbed my left arm and was thrown. The pain broke my tears from my eyes and clogged my throat. Looks like they're forcing me to screw the stone.

A waterfall-like blood runs down the floor, passing on his forehead. It looked like I wore hot water from my head. I moved my fingertips, and something touched me. Still, I have a feeling. We have to fight more than we have raw. Don't let your strength, your fighting spirit, shrivel to the end.

"Oh. Do you still want to stand"

"Ru, let..."

He stood, peeling apart with paralysis and washing away the debris from the spilled wall. When I could put the peak of the sword in my mouth, I used my right hand to forcibly insert the fallen left shoulder. Blue and white currents thrust through the brain weather. Gakun, and bone and bone joints engaged. Imagine yourself as part of the machine. Recognize it.

"The battle has just begun."

Moving the viewpoint around, the dark blue coat is moving around. Sisters are crying and begging Raffaello for forgiveness. I heard it, I didn't know it, I had a toothpick.

Have mercy, Raffaello. Please, help me, please, Clando. Raffaello, turned into a demon, kicked a few sisters, clinging to his feet as he crawled and chuckled with a terribly human voice about where he was coming from.

Ahhh, uhh, screaming, the women are blowing up like pieces of paper, striking their bodies at their desks and chairs, twisting themselves in pain. Obviously, some sisters had parts of their bodies twisted in an impossible direction.

Raffaello went, even as he seemed to enjoy himself, spreading his hands wide, waving the two horns, roughing his nose, peeling out his sturdy looking teeth and drooling his saliva.

"What's up, Klando? Do you surrender? Your spirit of bravery is as if it were separate from the person of the Church painted with insult. You'll be amazed. Right. Now, if you swear to me that you will drown like this and convert to Godlam. - By killing two or three of those women, you can only save their lives. Although the remaining women seem to be of little use to us as comfort women in our church."

"You're kidding me! Who are you?"

When I screamed withering my throat, I tried to rip it open and the girl's clear voice blocked.

"Clandestine. Please slay Claire. That way, even just you!

"Klund......"

Claire stood up and sounded like blood. Cordura is also rubbing over here, crawling like an imbecile. Raffaello put a thick arm like a great tree in front of his chest, sniffing a rough nose with a buffoo.

"Why don't you take the option of killing? These are prostitutes whose contents, even if slightly eye-catching, have only reason to exist to flatter and wave their hips at men. With an arm like you, if you survive, you'll still have a pretty good life."

Raffaello asks in a heartfelt, strange way. I understand now. This man doesn't recognize the value of being a woman. I guess I only recognize it to the extent of an ejaculation device that encourages a man's desires, such as the value of a woman's use.

I don't understand. As if he didn't know, the collector categorically refused to give that opinion alone.

"Jeez, man. Besides... I haven't fucked them yet. Here it is, Karuku. The purpose is to make you look good and mellow.... don't interrupt my great plan."

When Raffaello unwrapped his arm, he pulled a desk that was fixed to the floor with one hand. The awesome sound of the anchor bolt falling off rings and the long desk is given high up.

"Be a little more honest with yourself"

Yeah, and I roared, and my desk came down. The collector is in a state where he manages to stand. No matter, I can't take any defensive stance. As a result, he dressed up to be showered in the belly of his desk from his face, blowing up to the wall again, striking the five bodies hard.

but stood.

I managed to stand.

Gigishi and bones twitch all over his body, and his eyes are no longer good enough to tie Raphaelo's statue. On his cheek, some of the sharp pieces of wood pierce him. breaking cheeks and reaching up to his mouth. That was easily touched if he moved his tongue. With his left hand, he pulled out the knife and threw his sword at the floorboard, putting his strength into the knee that was about to fall out.

"It's Klund. Do you have no pain? More than that, do you not remember fear as if before this overwhelming power? Can you overcome fear because you strongly believe in the teachings of the Romles? I have no idea what your toughness roots are. If there is such a way, I would like you to profess one thing. If we can make the most of it, our Godrum warriors won't have to know the miserable thoughts we had earlier."

"Just now, you're just asking questions"

"I want to know."

"... there must be no way on this earth to overcome fear. Even me, if they slaughter me, I'll be jealous, if they beat me up. There is always pain. I can't even forget. Sometimes I want to poke my knee and cry. But if a man does that. If that's the case. Never again will you turn to the women and follow me in silence?"

That was the pride of the collector. Memories of the past, which I should have forgotten, emerged from deep mud. The creed imprinted by his great-grandfather Makoto, who hated him so much, was anachronistic: "Men protect women no matter what".

Like crazy, some of him who struck a wooden knife at a young treasurer could now deduce that his love for his clumsy grandson was only a scar of comatose anguish.

Since my mother died, my grandfather died, and what connects me was gone in this world, there was only half the life left to delay self-immolation. One day, I'll die, too. Death is always by your side.

Then what inconvenience would it be to risk your life for a woman who is weaker than you and much more susceptible to death? Why am I so obsessed with a woman's flesh? Easy, because it's a warm, soft reminder of what once was lost by the collector.

- I mean, yeah. A woman is the driving force behind my soul. Don't let them make that disposable. Actually, it's a simple matter. I don't even want to lose Kakera, who might love me. That's just it.

"Klund..."

Squeezing Cordura voice.

I'm sorry. Make me nervous.

But I'm sure he won't beat me.

Because I believe you won't lose.

There was no basis for this, so I decided to protect it. So we have to protect that.

"Caries run, don't they? The idea. From the ex, more importantly, what I don't like the least is the whores there, in case you expect them, those eyes. Maybe we can win. He said this guy might come and save us in case we do. All right? The meat there is inferior, like kneeling at my feet immediately if you are killed, licking and begging for your life enough to puff the soles of your shoes and butt holes. Great. Let me turn that hope, now, into despair!

Once again, Raffaello held his torso back so that he could get off to a crowding start. I put my arms on the floor and kicked the ground with my hind legs. Again, bullet-like advances began.

Coming. Now, I'm coming for you in that corner.

The horn that rests on the head of the heinous cow is large and as sharp as steel.

With his long sword on the horizontal, he stood. No, I'm finally standing there, to be exact.

The mountain moved, and the sound of a collision was heard in the distance.

Sword. Swing the sword down. Aim only at the enemy's defenseless eyebrows.

The collector let go of the slaughter, screaming hard.

Moment of impact.

- The world is filled with red and black. Nothing, I don't know anymore.

"Yaaaaaa!"

Woman screaming. The pitiful sound of a thousand cuts of intestine, it was.

If you noticed, you were looking down at Raffaello.

I wonder what this is.

It was a terrible, odd sight. From the center of the abdomen, a raw, warm source of life is spilling out.

From his back, the horns of the devil were pounding sharply through him. He was stabbed. In that ferocious corner.

"Ah, but heh."

Absolutely. There is a mixed sound on my mind. The sword slipped off his right hand and sounded the floor cool. I'm being poked up. Raffaello's horn wore his torso.

I was calm by the odd. There is another self around the ceiling, a vision that, like Moz's, is delivering to his sight a miserable man who is skewered and exposed to heights.

"What do you think? The view of the place. Because there won't be much time left. Taste plenty."

I can't help it if I let that happen.

Darkness. The body is slapped into a hard spot on the ground. Heavy as your whole body swallowed lead. Little time was put between them, and now the ramblings on his heels filled his entire body without blemishes. It's a stomping attack launched from a giant over three meters.

The collector, already, in an unconscious world, watched the shark rain as far away as any other HR. Are you going to die? You'll be dead, this is it. The blood flowing from your body is spreading like a pond. Crazy cows dancing like they're good at spitting blubber out of their mouths.

- That's, like, awesome, on my mind.

"Mm...!

It was an unconscious operation, but it succeeded. I took the right leg of a cowboy dancing on his body and twisted his mind. I didn't think I could or couldn't, or anything. Another self jumped over the logic of the world and did it with superhuman power.

When the cradle, and the sound of the bone crushing, the mad cow turned over from his back with a shout that did not guide him. Raffaello's thick right ankle is twisted by snoring. The shark appeared slightly clearer.

Doo, and the roar sounded, and the religious painting on the cathedral shivered billibly. Fine dust, rising white, Raffaello was groaning in severe pain, radiating his anger out of his mouth.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey! You're such a jerk!"

Tremble your gigantic body, you're angry. Every time I slammed my twisted ankle to the ground, I was standing on my face.

Wait a minute. I have endured many times more pain than you have. That would be within the margin of error. The collector, when he caught his lips, stood up quietly.

Keane and the clear sound rings in my head. The usual, that divinely inspired, indescribable feeling came down. Brain drugs melt into drools and stain all over your body. Hi. The mood is pointless, unexpected, and incomprehensible.

- Whether I'm starting to go crazy or not, I don't want to lose anymore.

"Hey, cowboy. I'm in the middle of a fight. Don't be alarmed, big enemy. Fire is a bow."

"Die. Yeah!

Were you at the bottom of your stomach? A second engine made a galling noise and started it.

A giant gear in his brain moved out, and even though he hadn't asked for it, he engaged and set up a spark.

The heart is pulsating hard and a vortex of flames is searing the muscles of the whole body from the inside out.

The fever doesn't go away. Burn down the enemies in front of you, and they're rushing.

"Come. Come. Whoa, whoa."

Raffaello releases a poke with his right arm. When the collector turned his back, he buried the black lion he had picked up on his empty flank.

It was an impeccable blow together with momentum, speed, timing. The torso pierces Raffaello's steely flesh and his cuttoe peeks all the way to his back. You couldn't stand the pain, you're wiggling your arms in tears. I stepped on Moro when he was eating me in the face.

"What's up, cowboy? The battle starts here!

"is ahhh. Ha, let go."

but the battle is coming. From the belly, blood is flowing like a waterfall, and in the head, the yellow flames are brightly extinguished. When, falling down and desperate is a strange situation, but the power was gushing out of nowhere and infinitely.

I made sure to take the meat of the ferocious cow, and squeezed my sword around in the meat. The black lion was pulled out of Raffaello's torso, pulling and chopping countless muscle fibers.

And the poisonous blood flowed like rain. Like a stick, he shrugged his sword horizontally, gently avoiding his swinging fist. The silver wire flowed with its tail drawn, and decided Raffaello's breastplate, sharp and deep. The beast barked bitterly as he exhaled a bloody bubble from his mouth.

"It's a shame!

"So you're coming! It's a dark night ahead of us!

The bull stopped his leg and waved his fist out. The treasurer also stood in defeat and stayed on the spot.

Parry a giant gunshot like blow with his left arm and release a sword strike with his remaining right arm.

Same place again. Additionally, being choosen of scars, Raffaello cursed with a distressed look.

Raffaello retracted as the thick breastplate was split diagonally.

Try to chase him and approach him, knocking his long sword straight in from the front. Raffaello raised his arm and guarded, but when he was slashed into his right arm obliquely, he leaked a pitiful voice and stepped on it.

The collector tried to roll himself, and as he went under his groin, he poked the black lion up vertically.

testicles and, while destroying the penis, the blade destroyed Raffaello's organs from the bottom.

The groaning and painful voice was no different than that of a bastard being towed into a slaughterhouse and miserable. I stayed away, rolling further, not to be exposed to descending blood flow. Don't you have the energy to chase them immediately? The way he poked Gaku and one knee looks indescribably weak.

- Is this guy vulnerable to his own pain?

Then now you're comparing patience.

The collector drew a circle around Raffaello as he ran around the cathedral, which had been destroyed and enlarged.

Grunting, keep spinning. The frightened eyes further set fire to the fodder's struggle.

"Oh, come on, you crazy cow bastard! Don't kill him!

"I'm kidding! The church dog. Ah!

When the collector removed his coat from his shoulder, as the bullfighter would do, he slashed it into the spot where it had been sappily pulled and just emptied at the moment of Raffaello's penetration.

Oops, agu, keep saying the words of pain and anguish, and Raffaello's body, the red muscles add up with geometric figures. The blood wind gained momentum and stood around like fog.

Shoulders, arms, flanks, right thigh and a few places on the back were chopped up and there was already no initial leeway left for Raffaello.

"Ahhh!

Still, I get a gap, I get an intense tackle.

- Oh, shit.

The loss of blood, also due to the loss of power, broke my leg. When he was bounced into a clash like a swing, his back was softly supported by several hands. Looking back. There, the Virgin with her slender eyes stared jizzily at the face of the treasurer, as if it were an object to be prayed for.

"You..."

The half-naked Sisters were desperately trying to wake up the treasurer who was rolled up to the front of the altar if they realized it. It would be horrible, I think.

Still, the Sisters, including Cordura and Claire, wept with their eyes, reaching out thin and unreliable and showing their will to suffer together.

If we stay here, there's a good chance we'll die of crushing by eating the convolutions of the assault.

There would have been as much time to escape. Stupid women.

No, the dumbest bastard, maybe this me.

"Is that the conclusion? The rotten things in the church. Why? Why fight so far? Is your god so omnipotent? Answer me. Answer me. Show me, it's Crand! Is God there?

Raffaello was freaking out, as if he had been caught up.

Behind you are the Sisters. Now it's time for a true backwater formation.

The mad cow, once again in the assault position, has made his last assault abruptly as he stepped through the floorboard.

(But you're making a little mistake, Raffaello. I'll just have to correct that.)

"- I don't see a razor. But I want to protect the honorable things they hold in their breasts."

"Don't be proud, Woo! God's dog. Ahhh!

"Come on, let's go with the curtain. Raffaello."

He ran out like a disease at the same rate as the mad cow that was coming out of the cup. You can't keep the Sisters behind you. I stopped at the right time.

I stepped on both legs with the residual force.

Sticking his long sword to his feet, he spread his legs in a gnaw and raised his hands to heaven.

Immortality Red, the crest of immortality on the chest, added a touch of radiance. While wrapped in fierce light, the zodiac gazed and cut through the horns of the legendary Warcraft, jumping in like shells.

Horn. A sharp, pointed, long murder weapon. I grabbed at the roots of the blackened demons.

With the temper of tearing, he squeezed the power of his whole body. Mirimiri and on a bearded floor slab, a spider nested crack ran, and the ground lowered gakun.

Raffaello's eyes. A definite fright emerged, which gradually turned into despair.

The noise began to ring and the fierce cow giant gradually began to float. I manage to get back on the ground wielding my thick arms, but I won't let you.

Alas, my anger pounded my throat and came out. My arms are swelling up and my sleeves are chirping. White light is even sharper. When Raffaello stopped and stopped pitifully, the heavens and the earth finally reversed.

And the treasurer made his wrath be seen all over his body, and lifted Raphaelo's body high into heaven.

Ooh, ooh, ooh. I thought I heard God's wrath, not my own voice.

Billy and the atmosphere are trembling like roaring.

There were countless cracks at the corners of both ends that supported as much weight as tanks, and that happened to be fine. Then a clear sound sounded - cracked.

He clenched the shattering horn, and spinning the ghost giant.

Oh, and. A wild voice loosened the diocese like a mountain tsunami.

Front suplex with corner fulcrum.

The collector painted a beautiful arch as he bridged, sinking Raffaello's giant deep into the floor.

And the sound of the earth crushing filled the cathedral.

Crushed.

The shattered white horns, becoming fine particles, descended into the glitter and the diocese.

Like that's the end of the battle. Really, divinely.

Unstoppable weight hits Raffaello as "enemy".

Skull, shoulders, arms, organs, spine, lumbar bone, femur. From the top of his head to his toes, an unprecedented severe pain strikes and shatters Raffaello's five bodies.

Raffaello leaned back from the cracked skull of the bowl, drooling off his grey-brown brains.

It's just bloody. It became a red and black mass, and Raffaello fell so thinly into a thin, papery existence that he was about to melt. Beastification unravels and returns to man. It was weak.

"With this guy, it's a dead end!

The collector, when he recovered from the bridge, pulled through the black lion that stood at his feet. Raffaello is falling. He was about to get up with one knee poked at him somehow. Blood bubbles are pouring out of your throat. I grabbed the throat wheel and forced him to stand up. Otherwise, it's hard to aim.

"Ah, ah, ah...!

By the destruction of the horns of Minotaur, the root of the evil power, the change is solved and Raffaello, rounded naked, whilst wearing the skull of a nearly cracked cow, is grated.

Squeezing his long sword with both hands, he snapped off Raffaello's side at the speed of a violent wind.

The Black Lion doubled his enemies' defenseless flanks to stunning as he stained himself with a sharp glow.

The organ spills doddly with the stinking blood.

As the collector bit his back teeth into the bee, he kicked the ground and flew, restarting his long sword on the big upper stage as he flipped his coat like a bat.

The black lion was swung down with a thunder-like impact.

A blade ran through Raffaello's skull, face, throat, chest, torso and crotch in a straight line.

With extra momentum, the long sword he shook down pierced the floorboard.

When the ghost of hell, raging through the cathedral, was cut from the centre, as measured, it separated left and right and raised blood smoke, disappearing completely from the ground.

It's finally over......

When the collector stood with his long sword like a cane, he exhaled for a long, long time. Even though the force of the crest is healing the wound, the body is exhausted. Have you lost consciousness for a while? When I woke up, around my chest, there was a chopped end of a thousand chopped monk clothes.

"Saint Jonas......"

"Hmm?"

Boosh and someone snapped. I looked up reflexively.

On that occasion, the Sisters bowed their heads toward the Collector and prayed wholeheartedly.

"... dude, I'm not screwed yet"

"I think of you, Jonas."

If you look, Cordura walked over with a shoulder to Ilse and Claire. The effect of healing magic or little swelling of the face remains. If you can slap your mouth down, I guess there's nothing particularly wrong with that. I got a load off my shoulder, something like that.

"Oh, Jonas is that"

Speaking of the original, it's like Gotagota happened with the man's artifact. If you try to be a collector, you big idiot who left such an annoying thing, you don't even care to respect it. Nevertheless, in all that danger, the Sisters, as one of them, did not attempt to divulge the resting place of the sacred relics.

(Religion, soba, right. I'm glad I'm Japanese...)

"Oh, I can't believe you're a saint. It's a good place to be."

"Ugh."

I wonder if they did the sacred sorcery of healing, like the first refusal to be seen in the face, there were not so many intense marks left. Her face is red and swollen because of the most intense after-effects of planking.

(He would also feel more comfortable as usual rather than being used if he did)

"Even so, it's pampering. Hey, mumps!

I tried and slapped a light mouth. However, contrary to expectations, Cordura saved tears in her eyes and chewed her lips hard as she glanced at her face. Oh, shit. I'm going to cry. It's a precursor to crying.

"... it's terrible"

"Clandestine."

"Huh? No. Um, that."

When Cordura turned away, she sat down on the spot and wept. I didn't think you cared that much.

It's lame. I care, and instantly, Ilse raised her voice of condemnation.

The collector wolfed violently, like a starving bear, circling around her.

What a comfort. As I turned my face blue, I heard an unexpected, entertaining laugh from her crouching and bewildered.

"Dull dull"

"What?"

"Bye!

Were you pretending to be crying? She laughed out loud as she stood up, pointing her finger at the collector.

Only this time, when the collector sat down nagging, could he really not move. When I closed my eyes and left my back by my desk, the accumulated damage erupted all at once. Sisters, who watched it far-flung, also laughed out in a soothing voice. Claire, who was just sitting next to her, dyed her cheeks and came to her face perfectly, realizing that the crisis had finally left.

(Yes, one Lori, I'm getting it. Ha, I don't care anymore)

He was a keeper who showed no interest in his peppery chest.

Jiggling, again, a strong drowsiness struck my whole body.

- Shit. With the utout.

When I opened my eyes with a faint feel, like a sowa and feathers stroking, there was a gathering of half-naked sisters around me so that they could flock together.

"Mr. Klando. Allow me to make allowance."

"I'm good at healing magic!

"I'll wrap the bandages around you."

"I can't do anything. Let me hold your hand."

"Do you remember? It's Chlorinda. Klanda. Well, I'll be back for you. Come on."

"Ah, Cro! The loose ends are bad. Mr. Krando."

"Hey, hey! Hey, this -"

"Ugh. If you lie down here, you'll catch a cold. Come here."

(Ugh, hehe. A little, I was wondering if it would be reviewed or something, but this is an unexpected benefit)

The half-naked, visibly sisters squeeze their munchy catfish milk and ass. As far as Claire goes, she's threatening to peel out her teeth, clinging to her chest all the time if she doesn't give it to anyone else. If it is bitter, it is easy, and that is exactly what it means. I don't care about Lori.

The treasurer stretched his body tired as mud deliberately, "Ugh, the scratches of battle…" and "If it were for you, life, etc." and so on, the fever that dwelt in his daughters' eyes grew more intense.

(Easy Mode, Easy Mode. We're going into a real change in life.)

"I'm listening to people. Hey, Klando!

The murmur flowed from left to right.

A few of them lean against each other in a crusty manner, rubbing their strands together.

If that's the case, I'll take care of it and adore it.

Hehe, stretching under his nose, rubbing his breasts, doesn't try to hate him as one of them.

Sucking his mouth on condition was the end of getting more cancer as he turned his hand around his head.

"Yeah. It's sloppy. Me, me, too."

"Have mercy."

"Savior. Well. Saint Klander."

"I like it, I like it, I like it"

"Arica's milk. Touch it. Come on."

"It's boring."

"Spring. It's the spring of my life......!

- Sister Festival. Held today.

The collector enjoyed the slightest moments of his visit at the height of his life, until shortly before Cordura, who had been made into an evil one, went belly-up and took his haunted daughter-in-law back to the diocese.

Silver Villago Eight Hundred Years of History includes: "Romless History, One Hundred Forty-Nine, Early Spring. Former assistant boss farmer Balmunk. Take the rebels and make a scene in the city. This is overthrown by the hands of the Knights of the Phoenix and the Bishop Marco".

Slavery is privately viewed by scholars in the King's Capital, who will remain for hundreds of years after the end of the Romless Kingdom. At the moment, signs of slave liberation have not even been debated in any city.