Dungeon+Harem+Master

The silent pressure of my daughters continues. The collector sighed as he watched them continue to give cold auras as he held Lucille the little elf over his lap after breakfast.

"No, Lucille. You shouldn't take a cat's beard. I'm gonna stop taking rats."

Lucille, the half elf, is diligently gouging the mustache of the pressed kitten.

Apparently, you don't like the fact that creatures smaller and weaker than yourself are storing their mustaches great. Fugaya, hogaya, and the kitten are calling for help in a pitiful voice, but Lucille sparkles her eyes and is cackly happy. Oh, it's a cat. Your wretched destiny.

The collector let his eyes heat up at the grief that had accidentally stuck his chest up, freeing the kitten from the captivity of the girl.

I'm not kidding. I'm just leaving while Kijitra runs all the way down the floor.

Lucille, opening her mouth slightly, then began to dare not protest, swelling her cheeks like a cake and waving her arms around.

"What? Why would I interrupt? That's right. That cat is a loyal man who runs day and night entrusted with the serious task of catching rats in this house. Lucille likes both cheese and biscuits. But if there are too many rats, they will attack the table in large numbers and plunder and steal them. No, you don't, do you? Well, if you know what I mean, I'm gonna have to stop flirting and play girly. Huh? Me, you want to knit? Well, then. Can someone tell your sisters? Uh."

The collector leaned closer to Sizka, who was sitting on the chair, holding Lucille back. Her expression, silent as a rippless lake surface, made her chest pound.

"Um, Sizka Tan. Lucille wants to knit."

"Right. Then..."

Sizka takes Lucille as she rises from her chair and walks toward the exit. The little back was as grim as a cold, pointy blade, as rejecting the collector.

I'm angry. I already deserve this, but I'm angry. What else? My daughter-in-law, including Sizka, apparently boarded a rescue to an occupied hotel ready to die.

As a result, it all ended in vain.

To quote, when it comes to the pivotal collectors, it is only remorse that they have acted in what must be called a relentless place of business in the Church and have shown them the sight, albeit a misunderstanding.

(Damn. Why, I don't know, I just get on with it at a bad time here. Besides, I like myself a lot like that......!

It is a state marked by everyone that thinks it will be completely ignored or that whenever you move a room, "where do you go" or "what do you do".

Obviously, he was restrained from going to church.

Ironically, on the other hand, in the Sisters of the Cathedral, we have succeeded in gaining immense trust, and inside,

"I want to take this opportunity to devour you from one end..."

I can't even contain the evil heart that If you do it plainly, this time your firm position in the Mansion will be at stake.

"No, would it have stood like that in the first place?

The collector asks himself.

It's the night life that hasn't been rejected, but somewhat unlike before, there's a part of me that feels like a "wall".

The collector thought.

What the hell am I supposed to do to undo the distance between my daughters and my distant hearts?

- We don't have enough romance.

A space where we can free ourselves from everyday chores and create an integral air for each other.

There was. At a time like this, there's only one comforting thing I can count on.

"That's right. Dive into the dungeon."

The collector made a real escape.

And that led to tackling the seventeenth hierarchy of offenses. This time, the members were carefully selected with the arbitrariness and prejudice of the collectors.

Sizka, Rudge, Artemisia, Liza, Meriandale, Karen, are the six. If the number increases too much, it is easy to neglect to communicate with individual members.

Purely, given the tactical speed and safety aspect, we should have thickened the front line, which is an attacker, a bit, but this time, we dared to lower the Pordina, Victoire, etc.

(When I bring the por, it sticks sweet. Rudge was relatively sensible on this one, so let's have him act as a follower. Besides, Al owes me for the last time, so the impossibility works to some extent. We also have to follow up after Lisa and Karen, the hotel entry group, and Mary, that's it. Leave it any longer and your mental state is in danger)

It is an organization that contemplates individual relationships, and amateurs should not imitate them. Neither has the treasurer taken off the realm of the Beginner as an adventurer, but it is.

The basics are to be done by three men: the Founding Fathers and Sizka, and Artemisia.

"And then there's Texto."

"What is it? Unbelievable."

"Demand better treatment."

The protest of both black and white elves is silenced. By the way, Dorothea left it. I guess I'm in the girl's period.

Besides, if you let the smell of blood smell even slightly but constantly, you're less likely to attract the sharp monsters of smell. This was said to be a shortcoming in a clan composed of women other than myself.

"In the meantime, keep up the good work"

I didn't forgive you either.

Rudge went with a cold eye.

"Ugh. Abuse me. Hey."

Even so.

Using the transfer formation of the mansion, he flew to the entrance of the seventeen tiers.

"Oh, he's back. To my hometown. Oh, oh, hey. Ladies and gentlemen, wait a minute."

Soon to immerse themselves in emotion, my daughter-in-law and his daughter-in-law move on with Stasta. I could cry a little.

Walk feeling the presence of null and damp rock moss on the soles of your shoes. The XVII hierarchy is the deepest stratification officially confirmed, and if we reach this point, we can say that we have first come off the third stream.

"Ah. Sizka, don't you thirst? Water, drink?

"Fine. I have mine"

"Do you want a behavioral meal? So-so delicious."

"I don't want it"

"Let me pull your hand for you, ooh-ooh"

……

"Oh, that's okay"

Sizka softened the atmosphere just a little as she left hand silently. Artemisia walking ahead sends her gaze with an envious look.

- Al, you're a penalty because you've been niggled by a handsome man.

The assessment of the collectors is very demanding.

(Not a clear rejection, but obviously I'm losing my temper......! Here, for one thing, I have to show you the cool stuff and grab the Zuba and everyone's hearts. I don't like domestic separation.)

Clearly, it's not an attitude to adventure, but I can't. Love is not indestructible. Unlike the story, the life ahead of us, bound together, is so much longer that it's distracting.

"No! Do it either way."

"Oh, there's a flame burning out of Klund's eyes."

Liza also danced with a twirl, waving her half ass, wondering if she was feeling better.

"Please be careful."

Rudge spends twice as much as usual while mapping, moving slowly. Behind it, he kicked into the rock, and Meryandale poured.

"While you're at it, this is it."

Travelling down a flat path, several shadows appeared in a Y-shaped branch, trying to block the way.

The shadows have made strange barks and intimidations when they were lit by lantern lights.

Size, none of which exceeds one hundred and fifty centimetres. The collector looked at them and remembered a certain show that he would find "mundane" around the world that he was doing on Sunday.

"Thanks to the deck."

Dragon Modki. The number is seven. It is a monster that inhabits all of the Romles. This monster, belonging to the lizard, gradually approached with a disappointing limb, trying to lick the ground.

Would he have lived in the dark for a long time, his eyeballs degenerating? My eyes were cloudy.

"Klund. The monster in this hand has a developed sense of smell. For now, it's a must-win."

Rudge cautioned when he opened the magic book.

"Ooh. That's Sizka!

Faster than responding, Sizka rushed out quickly to give the lead dragon modoki a blow.

but the song knife of Sizka is bounced back into the thick skin of the dragon moddle and can't do any damage.

With all the cover, Karen, who had refrained in the rear line, masterfully manipulated the elphinbow and continued cutting and releasing the three arrows.

If it were her arm, at this distance, I wouldn't even remove the rice grain.

Pussy, Pussy, and not aiming at each other, the arrow pierced both eyes of the Dragon Modki brilliantly.

but the monster continues to advance with Zunzun unintentionally because he doesn't feel any itching.

My distance has narrowed.

"We're gonna hit it out!

I happened to be in a riot. When the collector came forward to cover Sizka, he unleashed the holy sword "Black Lion” and struck the flat face of the dragon modoki as he wished.

"Mmm. Nah."

Stiff. Stiff anyway. A heavy response remained on my arm, as if I had struck even a chunk of iron. I guess you only think to the extent that you've been slapped on the side. The monster leaned over with his big mouth open.

"Out of the way!

I responded to Liza's voice and jumped to the sidelines. No, I tried to jump, but instantly I stepped on a pebble, out of balance. Ah, yabba. The shadow of death plundered in front of Chirali, but rolled unnecessarily under strong shock from the sidelines.

"Whoa! Rock Cannon!"

A handful of rock bullets burst towards the position where the collector was standing. The Dark Elf, Lisa's, has decided on earthly magic. This also did not stop the dragon modoki, which wiped out the long mouth and blew up the blue and white blood, while being deadly.

"Hey, think about your position. It's easy to use the technique."

"I'm sorry."

"Totally. Even so, you're a hoax..."

"Mmm."

Secondly, when I realized, there was a sizka hugging around the chest of a collector poking his butt.

Understanding the instantaneous crisis, he turned to follow me.

"Are you hurt?

Sizka's hot exhale hits her ear. The hair on his neck stood as a zoku.

"Ooh. Thanks."

"Then fine. Don't get distracted. It!"

When Sizka stood up, she handily punched the blade between the eyebrows of the dragon modoki she was headed for.

Now without the blade being played, Gusari and I entered easily to stab a pear with a yang branch.

Apparently, she got the hang of it. Turning this way, he's just turning his chest upwards and his shaped nose.

I admired it was a lot, and next door I saw a diagram of Artemisia skewering three pieces together, just "hey hey hey".

"Hehe. You can't lose."

"Oh, right! The rest is all mine!

"In good shape"

Because of my mind, I feel like my voice and attitude are more rounded than when I was in the mansion. Is this also the so-called one dungeon effect? You did it.

While I managed to do something like that, Liza unleashed dirt magic and slaughtered the whole thing.

Not good. For dressing up, on the day he came with zero effect, he might say, "What the hell, Dasse..." "It's useless besides". It is precisely the autumn of the Critical Survival "Kiki Utsumura".

The collector burst into it with half a cry. There's nothing to do. It seems that Sizka was masterfully manipulating the sword by finding a thin part of the dragon modoki's epidermis, but that is not the case with the collector. Speaking of what I can do, then. Until I risk this life.

Risk your life to overshadow the heavens and the earth. The gods were also slain, and Dragon Modki took smart choices besides for the bastards. That is, escape.

"Yeah. I ran away."

Liza's twinkle echoes in her chest. In the dungeon, even though the terrain is complex, there are countless holes in each place where the light does not penetrate, as you might think. Dragon Modki quickly disappeared as he crawled over in a smooth motion to a dark ditch that was in the shadow of a rock that the fighting collectors did not notice.

My ass hole is hot. A demon nestled in his stomach without reality became a high-pressure gas, which drove his intestines and ran through his anus. The expression of the collector. I was unconscious. Karen, who doesn't know the situation, leaked an empty yawn because of the early start, ahem.

"Tea is fine. It was a human offering. It heals my heart."

The collector was away from the tent he had camped in, boiling hot water. Gulagu, and countless bubbles are created, and the bubbles and voices are raised. From the leather bag at the waist, the original Romeless tea leaves, known as "yakipigs," were added, and the aroma aromatized immediately rich.

No, when I make a noise and smoke it, the hot tea slips off when I rinse it from my esophagus to my stomach. It is a chill that did not bother me so much during the action, but once stagnated, it stained my bones.

Outside, when spring is near, it cools from the core in a completely unspoilt cave of the day. When the collector met in front of his coat, he unconsciously shrunk himself.

Throwing firewood into the flames that burned red, patchouli and firepowder flew and hit his cheek. Second, something cold hit my cheek. Face up. Tonight, the place where the tent was erected is beneath a large cavity that can be pulled out. Parallax and white fell from the overhead of a blowout that would illuminate it as it continued to earth.

"Snow."

The identity of the white crystal was undisputed snow. It is a rushing powdered snow.

"Rice is ready."

"Oh......"

As he was crushing the powdered snow at his fingertips, Meryandale was crouching right beside him as he broke his knee to catch a glimpse of the mood. The collector, when he put the cup down, rose from the floor table, and, when he pretended, swallowed his body, paying off the snow that had reached the surface.

"What the fuck?"

"Yeah. Nothing, sir."

Meryandale, who was trying to look up, finally strayed from her gaze and then stuck around so that she could bring it. She is good at reading the hearts and minds of collectors. In this case, it was easier not to be pryed.

Dinner was a pot dish. After working the spices, the boiled vegetables match the fat of the pig dissolved in the trout and go really well together. As the collector continued his exchange to show his health, as usual, the air in the place waxed like it had been settling.

(That's right. The point of this group is it's up to me, no matter how bad it is)

The horizontal connection is not to say loose, but the impression of the majority of the daughters-in-law is still concentrated on the collector himself.

- You don't think like me. Eat up, go to sleep. You can start again tomorrow. No.

"Maybe it'll pile up."

I lifted the spoon from the bowl, and Rudge went. The collectors quickly entered bedtime mode when they finished dinner. For a while, a whisper followed, but eventually, in the tent, a stained silence descended.

I can't sleep. Sometimes I'm less fatigued, but this was unusual for a collector who could sleep anytime, anywhere. Because we carefully selected and minimized the members to be dungeoned in, we did not put the tension aside this time. Instead of that, whatever, the simplified junction I strained around replaced it with something quite robust.

The way it was built is not so precautionary, but what I specialize in this is Meryandale, who is still good at fine work, and naturally, when she was in the clan, she was becoming almost professional.

It is like a security bell that embeds a magical stone so as to surround it around the vicinity of a tented tabernacle, which echoes and informs harmful organisms as they approach. This was the first time this was useful.

Jiri Rin, and. Calling bell-like noise, which resembles a nostalgic black phone, together became an outfit that was forced to drag me out of my occasional nightly dreams.

The identity that had broken through and broken into the junction was a pig-shaped monster known as Dungeon Bore.

They are two hundred and fifty centimeters long and weigh more than five hundred kilograms, and they call by digging back with their nostrils the traces of Camad who threw away the rest of the juice from dinner.

Whether they were acting in herds or just in the eyes, the number, twenty, was exceeded.

"Oh, boy. That's postprandial exercise."

Artemisia bursts into a swarm of sparkling eyes as she soars her spear.

Soon, an unexpected fight began.

Karen, while Rudge fires a cover-up shooting with witchcraft, the collectors, Sizka, and Artemisia slaughter the fragmented individuals.

Dungeon Bore's main wepon is a tough nose tip that supposedly also pushes and moves fangs about twenty centimetres long that are growing curved from the mandible and over one hundred and fifty kilometres of rock, none of which is a threat at the level that overshadows common sense.

When half the herd was killed, the frightened pigs struck an avalanche and crushed it.

"Shit. You're waking me up in my sleep."

The collector scratched up his wet forehead and muddled the blood paste attached to his sword with rebellious paper, making a bad move.

"What's up?"

When I realized, the blue-faced Meryandale was moving her gaze into small pieces as she touched her hair.

"The supplies...!

When the collector followed her gaze, Mussillo, who had covered the material, was forced to peel off there, never less, scattered with material for the junction.

"What to do, what to do, what to do. My fault, my fault, my fault."

"Why, on purpose, materials in a spot of sight"

"I thought it would be good to clean up tomorrow morning. Oh......"

Adventure supplies are basically put together in a magical compression back that can compress the baggage from space to space, but this time only the material for the junction configuration that was kept outside took the form of damage.

"Now you won't be able to continue exploring."

Meryandale, stripping off his trademark hat, threw up words that stubbornly blamed the bumps and himself as he stared in the direction of the unawares.

(You can't blame Merry. 'Cause until now, there's nothing in that way)

Simply think about it, you just have to turn back. But as soon as you start a dungeon offense, you won't want to put an ass on it. I remembered that the adventurer Jinx had a few things like turning back on his first day would make that dungeon unstoppable.

Modern collectors don't believe in superstition or other fine dust, but yet, the impact is enormous in this world, where paranoid legends are allowing the width to prevail.

And they look like mid teenagers, but in the first place, compared to modern Japanese, there was something abnormally worrying about their serious no fortunes. Culturally, the ancient atmosphere remains intense.

In other words, even a girl can look like she made her Japanese grandmother seem a hundred times worse off believing in superstition senselessly. That was something that could be said about other members.

"Can't we do something about it in safe doses"

"I probably can't. There are cracks in most of the stones that are central nuclei."

Looking around with chirali, the party humans, diligently disposing of Dungeon Bohr's body, look like no one has noticed this yet.

As the collector drew the trembling Meryandale into his chest, he went, paying the tear Shizuku on his eyelashes with his fingertips.

"Klund?"

"- Okay, okay. I'll take care of everything else."

The collector returned Meryandale to everyone, stating in words that lacked discouragement. It hasn't been a day since we started acting. This is the extent to which returning to the original path will not be painful now, even though it will take a few days and after a considerable distance.

Tomorrow, I saw the problem as tonight. Only today, if we let everyone get plenty of rest and return in the forcible army in the morning, we will reach the starting point in a day or two.

Drink alcohol to feel better. When the collector let go with a resolute attitude, he returned the women to the tent, sat down somewhere in front of the burning fire, and began drinking at his discretion. Once they decided to do this, the women began to return to the tent in half with fright and anxiety, knowing the nature of Teko's immobility.

What, you don't have to sleep overnight or there, nothing like that. This one, he's not doing all that crappy work out.

By appointment, Meryandale's lapse should have been obscured by nothing on the night shift when the collector disguised himself as Wagamama.

"but it's too cold"

The amount of snow falling into the cave was not always uniform. The season outside, though early spring, is not enough to freeze to death.

Naturally, from that idea, the baselayer is thin, as are the clothes that the collector can wear. It was the underwear that Pordina prepared for me assuming to move around, and the sweat loss was outstanding, but for that matter, it doesn't have the ability to block the air.

The difference in warmth between the outside world and the dungeon was incomparably isolated. I don't care when I'm moving, but once I stopped acting, the cold stained me to the bone.

It is cold enough to keep the firewood from burning, but to that extent it cannot be covered.

Last year, the expedition Etria was also a snowy country, but also another dimension of cold. If you let your palms out of the fire at all, your fingertips will become paralyzed with gin and gradually lose their senses.

As it was, I could see the back of my hand gradually darkening like a rotten banana as I lay low as a cockroach. It is a precursor to frostbite. In a hurry, he took a breath closer to the flame as he met his palms.

(The junction has been destroyed. first, that repair must be carried out)

Even so, the work that can be done by the collector is known. He had a little knowledge of survival, but his previous career was just a college student. Naturally, the response was limited to the mediocre.

He threaded around the tent and tied some noisy woodcuts to the tip. Now, if an external enemy is imminent, the thread will fall and a simple alarm will sound, informing them of the danger.

"Even so, it's a crude trick."

I am stunned by my clumsiness. It was truly primitive, and this seemed like something that would have been good if I had advised them to take turns watching over, but the aesthetics of the collector vehemently repelled it.

"You won't have to sleep three or four days to die. We'll get out of here in the middle of the night and we'll sneak up on you."

It is meant to be. It's also a very pointless and boring category. The collector felt like he peeked into his ugliness, didn't know it, and a chill ran on his spine.

I've got everything now. Women, houses, land.

He sleeps whenever he wants, eats booze, and now, even though he doesn't even ask for it like this, he's trying to carry in the hard work of not having to dive into the bottom of the ground.

Is there really any reason why we should continue our adventures? Chirali, behind his chest, made a promise to Maggot. It was becoming accommodated in some of the important factors that made up the collector himself, although not everything kept challenging the dungeon.

I'm not even going to risk my life for honor, but somehow I can't stop diving. When I'm alone, my unidentified guru occupies my head unilaterally.

I drinks instead of pretending. When alcohol turns to the body, everything gets better, and I want to throw everything out and dive into that warm tent.

but I can't do that. Then I feel like I'm being insulted. They are as kind to themselves as the devil. He will eventually accept everything, even with a frightened face.

I'm afraid of that reality. The collector was a man who grew up imprinted with the idea that "a man must be strong in one or two ways".

Strong, which means you don't sound weak.

Strong, that means nothing can be frustrated.

Strong, in all things, is the best virtue a man can wear overhead.

If you realize it, the world was stained with white. Loosen your shoulders and pay off the accumulated snow.

The wrist is wrapped in thin threads, which can be used to prepare for unforeseen events at any time.

The night is long.

When the collector scratched the flame, which was weakening, with a loose hand, he began to peel the firewood again.

Sizka was in deep concern. In the sleeping bag of the tent it is the beginning and the end of shrinking, striking the opposite side of the turning, turning to the left and right, flattened by the relatively warm Artemisia that was lying next to it.

I think it was a little too much. In fact, the more martial arts who broke the “Alliance for the Liberation of Slaves” enclosure and escaped on their own were, as a wife and as a single samurai, even remembered for awe, but before that, Sizka was a woman. And a woman is an emotional creature.

Why shouldn't you make an effort to tell me that you're safe if you're safe? What I went to help was that this one went on and on, and this is not what the danger is in the process of doing.

(I knew I was just a woman, too. If you see someone you've been so worried about snuggling with other women, stand up for one or two of your bellies...!

Qi. The collector has that personality, and you don't have to think it's going to happen for as long as you want. Chira and I looked at Rudge and Artemisia's face, lying down on the left and right.

(I guess it should be called the year kung fu...)

The two, basically, do not show such a strong rejection of the poor femininity of the collector. I wonder if I have low confidence in him.

If I think so, pity prevents me from feeling more and more honest on the table. People see themselves as a woman who's calm and broken everything up, but it's as if it's out of sight.

It would be unusual for a woman like me to have something guttural in her belly. It's just that I'm born not to show up on my expression and barely retain my calm with acquired training.

When I was bored in my sleeping bag saying yes, I heard gossogoso and people crawling out. The collector, after an earlier battle, was left alone outside, saying he would drink.

Sometimes I remember asking my brother that he wanted to be alone. Sometimes, I feel terribly far away about the treasurer. The crawling noise probably slipped out and went exaggerating. While I was doing this, my nausea swelled when I thought one of them was alone, deliberately interrupting him.

"Anyway..."

I am a jealous, airless woman. Sizka snuffed at herself, softly wandering out of her tent, narrowing her brows to the too strong cold.

"What is this..."

Sizka rushed around in the snow as she saw a man sitting up like an ice statue.

By the side, Meryandale is paying off the snow with half a cry.

"Why not. Why don't you go back inside the tent in this cold"

"Sorry, sorry"

"What happened?"

Meryandale told the collectors that he had lost supplies for the conjuncture because of his own inconvenience, clinging to them. Nothing. In the usual way, the collectors were just trying to pay for the loss of supplies.

"That's stupid. Really."

The collector was asleep, freezing up to his eyelashes. The fine snow covered his entire body, and only the breathing smoke that spits out regularly showed his survival. Sizka put her cheeks on the face of an icy collector and said, "Oh, it's cold."

Hot stuff pours out of my eyes. I like it because I'm such a one-way idiot. I can't wait to love this missing part. I love where you try to dress up like a boy, and where you act rough and like a man, including everything.

When Sizka looked at Meryandale, she noticed a cheek movement similar to each other's unusual crying laughter, and raised a small voice, kufu.