Dungeon+Harem+Master

A one-sided game started. The measure proposed by Meriandale was to build a fortress of iron walls at the top of the hill to intercept the golden wolves that would attack.

It is the unique geology in this terrain that has forced the collectors to step through this operation. When the iron content jumped through and instantly spotted the high soil, the alchemist Meryandale stretched stone walls over the hills, without minutes of the stuff, while simultaneously smelting countless giant balls of stone.

As expected, the members of the Golden Wolf began the raid, nay, when the collectors arrived on the hill.

As far as they are concerned, it is a thorough force attack that strikes the adventurers, who have reached the hilltop with no escape without knowing anything, from the hems of all sides to a single screen.

but that was too dodgy a way to call it an ambush. Meriandale slammed off a chunk of smelted stone from one end when he fully attracted the men pushing him like a wave tao.

For the members of the Golden Wolf, it would have seemed as if countless stone blocks had suddenly appeared upon the hill. They were born poking out of the earth, rolling down the slopes and assaulting the men, as if they had the will.

It is a beautiful circular ball, almost as artistic as it is. Also, the stone, which contained many iron components, was too hard and too heavy, and it was no creation to crush the humans just as if they were pieces of paper that rushed in helplessly.

Oh, it's too late for anything when I think about it. The men with no escape were left with the task of being devoured by the mass and speed of the carbide that just appeared neglected from the darkness.

The men, who were crushed without resisting the lumps of stone that raised and rolled up the smoke, were even pitiful. Screams and yells swirl all over the dim darkness. On several offenses, the men instantly lost half of one hundred and fifty-seven. The rest is about eighty.

There were other places to benefit the collectors. Most of the groups coming at us were grouped together in small groups of about ten, and it was as if neither the attacks nor the collaboration were systematic.

Instead, in an attempt to escape from each other before us, they pushed each other to the point where they pulled out the blade and ate together.

"It's an opportunity. Let's get rid of them more and more"

"Alright, I'm so sorry!

Meriandale smelled more balls of stone in Norinoli and continued to crush about thirty more. but the fifty or so enemies who just stayed and reached the top were the strong ones.

They run their eyes blood and wave their swords, but they are held back by pre-made stone walls, unable to make it to the central part where the collectors are. The stone wall, which is twice the height of the human tall, consists of the art of Meryandale, a substitute that cannot be crossed so cheaply. but chan, beating his sword properly and diligently, but every ant facing a giant elephant. Here, a spear of Artemisia roared through a slight peephole. Her rolling tips take the men on the walls one after the other. A bright red blood splash struck the stone wall sharply.

It was Sizka who worked at the same time. She's not just a sword, she's superb with spears, bows and horses. Using a bow captured from his enemies, Sizka stood on the wall flickering and shot a dozen people in the blink.

"Arrow cut"

Throw the bow in Sizka's hand with Pawn. When the collector caught the bow, he shouted in a voice full of cracks.

"All right, slash it in!

Under the first decree of the Collector, Artemisia, Sizka, Pordina and Meriandale stormed out. They swung down spears, swords, swords and swords from the next.

In particular, it was Artemisia and Pordina, which use long objects. They showed their overwhelming strength by chopping the approaching men into spas as if cutting onions, whilst swirling spears and machetes like windmills.

Sizka and Meriandale also move like a disease, running around the battlefield and slashing down men much bigger than themselves. Blood smoke danced everywhere and colored the gray boulders to the vermilion.

The battle was overwhelmingly favored by the collectors.

What changed the tide was that a few of them overcame the wall, not to be confused.

"Klund!"

Sizka called the collector in a hurried voice. Turning around, there was a man in a robe overhead as he left the front while holding Rudge in captivity and floating.

"Fuck you, there was a magician."

In the meantime, the man who captured Rudge flew away far away. If you look, her magic book was falling right next to her. Probably didn't have time to resist either. The men, who saw the possessors' offense loose, threw down their weapons and crushed them. The man in the robe set fire to whatever secret technique he used, toward the collectors trying to chase him. As I was turning right and left blocked from my hand going to the giant flames of red, my ears were soon so quiet around that my ears ached.

The collector slammed the sword in his hand to the ground as he raised and lowered his shoulders violently. Anger stains my sight with dos black. It was obviously our mistake. From all sides, the frightened gaze of the women pierces me, but it was nothing but more irritating to the nerves of the collector.

Calm down. Anyway, capturing him alive must mean he's going to take action from the other side -.

As the collector scratched his head galloping back, Sizka and Meriandale jumped quickly.

"... Daiji-kun. Don't even think about it."

Probably stepped on it when he lost sight of it and chased it right after him. The two, when they leave in a blatantly hospitable manner, block the way forward in a subtle manner.

"I believe you, Neh."

"I trust you, Klando."

"You don't believe me at all, do you?"

In all, nearly 30% of the four hundred, the estimated number of golden wolves, were buried away. At the same time, it hurt that they took Rudge, but now chasing him without darkness would only increase the damage. It was a small amount of combat time, but each suffered a small number of hand injuries.

As the collector lowered his back to the nearby stone, he exhaled for a long time. Soon Pordina will rush over and hand me the water bottle in the cup. In a sigh, he put his hands together in front of his chest and looked at the scattered hills of the carcass. Still, I guess I had a breath. All over the place, I heard moving noises and groans, but they were eventually sucked into the darkness as well.

"Your husband. It's a sign at the rear, but it's pretty close. We're not that far away anymore."

"So, is there?"

Pordina does not loosen her guard to the rear with the sword in her hand. The collector, when asked Sizka to scout around him, tried to close his eyes and put his thoughts together, but what struck him was the indescribable tiredness that stretched over his shoulders and the fear that he might lose his rudge.

"Klund"

So much so that Sizka returned to the impromptu position. Behind it, a dozen young girls, half naked, continued with Zorro Zorro. If you ask them how in detail, they were poor adventurers taken prisoner by the golden wolves. Sizka was exploring the bushes of the hills and stumbled upon them and freed them.

"Hey, you! I guess you're the leader of this clan. I need you to lend your weapons to the Atassis. You can't let them stay like this."

The scorched brown haired female warrior named Lulusa came to eat in tears. How terrible did I see it? Her eyes wanted to burn too much with a blackened flame of resentment.

The treasurer deceives her and asks her what's going on, apparently the golden wolf is planning on selling the captive women together as slaves. A dark shade of agitation floated on the collector's face. It is what the outlaws do. It won't be the first possibility that I won't get my hands on the woman I captured. I'm sure they're beginning to add a mausoleum to their tongues toward the captured rudge as a tribute to the Cotempan earlier. The awesome look of Rudge crying in the back of the zodiac's brain, forced to mausoleum while being held with long legs, floated like reality. When they get on Rudge's white belly instead, they'll be clearing up their worries. So much so that my intestines are about to burn with anger. He persuaded the poor women to stay here. I'm not sure what their power is. In other words, I have trouble getting my feet together.

"Actually, Klando. In an earlier raid, I saw a flicker and a familiarity with my face..."

"Al."

Artemisia rubs the shoulder of the collector with a painful face.

"One of them is a knight with a history. If it was under Sir Biinrich that Rudge was taken, it is likely that Rudge's chastity would be preserved. I, at least, want to believe that."

"Artemisia is the best thing to do, but I'd rather not have too many hopeful observations. At least I'm always ready for that degree"

That's what Sizka said in the same voice as usual. She keeps calm in her mouth, but her thin, neat brows are cramped into small pieces. As the collector raised his hips from the stone where he was sitting, poisoning the Divine Buddha in his heart, the sound of a light shark approached him from before. Soon after they had all frightened themselves, a knight in armor appeared from the darkness.

"Krug! Why are you here...!

"Artemisia? I'm sure you were right."

The young man, who cut his golden hair short, said so, laying his eyes down sadly. From the mouthfeel of Artemisia, it turns out that apparently he is one of the few men of reason among the golden wolves.

"How could a golden wolf commit such barbarism! Now you're no different than a burglar. What is Lord Binlich thinking!

"... that's tough. But I don't want you to tell me that you've left the clan on your own. Lord Artemisia, former deputy captain."

"Blaming me won't preserve the legitimacy of the golden wolf. Even if you argue with us, if you do this far, the guild won't shut up. Even if Sir Binlich is a nobleman of the famous Romles"

"I'm not here to listen to your sermon. Let's just communicate the requirements. Tell the clan" Dungeon Master ”. If we want Rudge Blackwell, our golden wolf captive, to be freed, we want Artemisia alone to go to positions ahead. This is Sir Bienrich's mouth. Yeah, and her personality is protected in the baron's honor. She's one of the best in the Romless, too. In the meantime, I want you to feel safe."

"Is Sir Binlich craving my life? Then why don't you go around and give me Artemisia's neck!

"I'm just a messenger. I have no authority to have proportions on the terms."

"Krug. You're no different than you used to be. Please, give me Rudge. Can you help me rescue my best friend?

"... I can't. No more decent ones left in the golden wolf. Besides, my house has served the Baron for generations. Even if the lord were to be cut off, the house would continue. You can't disobey me."

When the man told only that without power, he returned his horse's head and slowly returned to the original slope. Silence falls to the ground.

Moving his gaze from Artemisia, who was frozen with a frivolous expression, the collector vigorously spit out the water that was in his mouth onto the ground and slammed the cup he had in his hand. A hard sound sounds. At the same time, the collector had one thought shaped in his head, and a fluttering laugh appeared on his face.

Baron Jack Biinrich had a formation in the swamps far from the hills. The terrain around here is also unique in the cave. In the wetlands soaking up to his waist, he had created a simple base of planks, where he had lured the adventurers in one after the other to slaughter them. Countless Mizbashoes bloom on the black, cloudy cold, creating a beautiful fantastic sight with a striking contrast of shades to the water surface. The number of adventurers gathered by Sir Binlich without any choice of quality had received reports of earlier defeats and had broken a hundred. Rather, it seems that this number has often remained, but in reality it is only a gathering of stuffed animals that are lacking both in escaping this occasion and in tomorrow's food.

"Fuck, fuck...... Artemisia, Artemisia......! Even you, my invincible clan... forever..."

Sir Binlich had completely lost his spiritual equilibrium at this point, as you can see from the side. When, it was said, to the point of contending for one or two of the guilds, the authority of the golden wolf had fallen to the ground and swamped with mud, and the operation by the "exercise of strength" of the crime he had chosen itself had been utterly broken.

but the rogues who followed him were of utmost importance, such as merit and fame in the dungeon. If you eat up like a hound and enjoy plenty of treasure and women, you'll never think of anything else. Those were the lowest ranks of the army that stopped thinking.

Among Sir Biinrich, all the calamities that had befallen him had already been transferred to one, Artemisia du Berkour, who was once deputy captain, and only concentrated on killing the woman.

"Um, traitor... Even Artemisia, if you take it away, my golden wolf must... You must be able to regain your former glory…"

Sir Binlich chews down his trademark silk hat as he continues to bite his thumbnail heartlessly, whining about every wow. Right next to him, Rudge, tied in the back of his hand, was sending a cold eye to Sir Binrich as he was stabbed with his sword by two men.

"Here they come!

"It's Artemisia!

"Just like the message said, he showed up alone!

On the other side of the spacious space, a small dot appeared, as if a pop and match had caught fire. That point slowly grew louder and eventually approached Sir Binrich, taking a constant rhythm and sounding water, without even taking the men's noise as a thing.

The beautiful silver armor is wrapped around a surcoat stained with a cool white cross on the red field.

I don't know the expression because I wear my helmet tightly, lowering my gaze, and putting on my cheek, but it was certainly the figure of Artemisia, who was labeled a "Virgin" who could be considered a trademark.

"Whoa, whoa!

Binrich tries to get his mustache forward as he wets it with too much covetousness of excitement, but it was stopped by Krug, who was next door.

"Baron. You must not approach inadvertently. The spear will reach you at this distance."

"Oh, yeah! Krug, I got the rest."

[]/(exp, adj-na) (1) (uk) (uk) (uk)

"... why, I'm here. Artemisia."

Rudge's sad cry was also vain, and the knight, wrapped in silver armor, remained in charge of the spear, and when he arrived at a certain point, he stopped moving perfectly like a doll with a broken screw. Krug stood in front of the Silver Knight trying to poke the spear in his hand, squealing with a voice that made him cry out.

"I didn't want you to come... Lieutenant."

"Krug! Come on, get that guy's neck up! I'm sure that's your mission."

"Copy that. Come on, Artemisia! If you spare her life, throw away the spear in your hand. If we get this far, I'll at least make it easier on you with my hands."

The moment Krug's voice was heard, the spear slipped off the knight's hand and submerged it in the water, as if it had been programmed. When I heard the name of the dragon killer Virgin, I knew that the outlaws whose hips were pulling, it was time to exhale a sigh of relief. This one, though there are nearly a hundred of them left, wants to avoid fighting a tough opponent as much as possible. Anyway, the first person to turn to her will surely lose his life. That would be all the more true if we knew it was a win, and if possible, we would want to avoid risking our lives and slashing each other and only see "good eyes".

I quickly rolled out the spear Krug had in his hand toward the hips of the Silver Knight, considering it would be mindless to disgrace him any more. As the tip slips into the knight's armor joint with momentum, it pierces with gutter to expose the tip to the area around the back lumbar bone. The view and fiercely black liquid flooded out, and the knight's heavy body, about out of balance, raised the water splash and fell in.

Doh cheered from among the men. There is already no threat in their heads. Each one moves away from the holding and tries to worship the face of the dragon-killer Virgin at a glance, as if the ants on the sugar gather together. Krug chases them away as he never swirls the spear. Even Sir Binrich was poking his right hand up as he vomited a bubbly saliva from the edge of his mouth.

- I'm sorry, Artemisia. Why such a maneuver?

Krug reaches out without hesitation to the cloudy midst of being mixed up in an attempt to hold Artemisia's body submerged in water, whispering so loudly that no one can hear her.

"Huh -?"

Somewhat light.Yes, it was an unusual lightness of meat, as if it were not a person. As Krug lifts the knight's body out of the water, his helmet is removed and the Death Minister is prominent. From the palm of his hand, black muddy soil spilled with the lobster.

It was a doll made of mud, with no eyes, no nose, no mouth.

"This, no!

Severe water splashes erupted from the rear along with Krug's barking signals. Lacey, the half of the Water Spirit (Seylan), snuck up on the water dissolving her body and jumped to Rudge at the same time that the enclosure was broken. If this happens, it's Lacey's private room.

"Rudge, hold your breath!

Lacey quickly retrieved Rudge, trying to slip through the siege of an impending enemy, and left.

It was all a hoarder's measure. And when he commanded Meryandale to create the golem, he put the armor of Artemisia upon it, and put it into pieces. When Lacey could swim to the marshes far beyond where the golden wolves formed, there was a figure of the collectors standing with their swords drawn.

It is Sir Biinrich who cannot remain silent. He slammed his throat and when he let the men curse him, he pulled out the sabel and rode himself out and ordered an assault.

"Come on, this is the climax!

When the collector flashed the black blades of the Holy Sword Black Lion, he burst into a single letter toward the group.

I don't have the idea of running away. Literally, it was until one of them perished to a thorough slaughter knot.

After the collector, Pordina, Sizka, Artemisia and Meriandale follow.

Enemy shadows, slightly lacking in hundreds, are purely about fourteen times the power difference. When the collector removed his coat from his shoulder, he held it in his left hand and ran around in tears. The foot is an extremely difficult wetland area to move.

Except for the small positions where the golden wolves floated the plank-cut that they made briefly, the amount of water is enough to soak up to their hips, nestled in depth in some places.

In front of me, there are about five men approaching. but to detect from the signs and movements, I found it not so difficult. First, control the tip. Enemies were a strength to be multitude, and that was weakness at the same time. There's a part of the deal that can hit a lot of people as a favor that somehow depends on someone other than yourself. I mean, I don't want to raise my hand until I hurt myself.

The man who ran for safekeeping is weak. The treasurer, leaping like the rest of us, showered a full blow of his long sword into the face of the man directly in front of him.

The blade severely cleaved the center of the man's face, causing a bloody tide to erupt with tremendous momentum. At the same time, he wields the coat in his hand and slaps it sharply against the faces and bodies of the men around him.

The men who came out frightened, naturally, distanced themselves even without any real harm. The collector made effective use of the narrow scaffolding to move quickly left and right, using a long sword.

The men with broken throats and shoulders scream as they splash with the dovendoven and submerge in the water.

"Consolidate and be a circle! We're gonna push it across at once!

To the voice of the treasurer, the companions take a dense formation. The collectors, who became like wheels, made sure to decide the bowels of the golden wolf, and gradually continued to advance as they arced.

Pordina built a short sword, Sizka a song knife, Artemisia a a red chicken with a red dragon scale, and Meriandale waved a short sword to build one pile of corpses after another.

Pordina wielded down the nearby men with a sword as easy as mowing weed. Blood smoke rises here and there, and the water in the wetlands stains Dos Black with spilled blood.

But fighting nearly a hundred enemies was just as hard. Nowadays, the recovered Rudge is also using witchcraft for backup shooting, but it was becoming jittery and pushy.

Though the quality of the enemy clan is falling, the dozen people who were protecting Sir Binlich seem to have quite an arm's length around them, making it hard to cut them apart. With a small hand wound, everyone moves slowly. When the zodiac broke the warrior of the giant Han who was pushing Meriandale off his head, a twist rose from behind him.

"You're new!

It occurred to me about the other adventurers Pordina was going to, who were approaching behind her back. If Sir Binlich had concealed his reserves, Rudge and Lacey, who were fighting in a remote position first, would be in danger.

"No. That flag is the Confederation of the Holy Knights -"

Artemisia went, slashing off the enemy's arms.

Speaking of the Union of the Holy Knights. It is one of the strongest clans, commonly known within the Alliance as Wu Yingjie, led by “Holy Knight” Bridget Fortune.

In the far-sighted view, a woman proceeded quietly across the unicorn of the Holy Beast in a single corner, said to be carrying only a clean virgin, wearing a flag that followed the spear and the balance.

The woman was an unintentionally breathtaking beauty wearing a long sword around her waist, wrapped in silver armor.

The twenty or so corpsmen who solemnly walk are all young girls of such age as fifteen or six.

Everyone had a appearance above a certain standard, and there was a beauty so remarkable that it was not strange to be called an army of angels.

"Is your lord Baron Jack Bainrich? My name is Shannon Chambers, which was given the title of Knight by Saint Bridget in his right arm. The Golden Wolf, your lord's clan, was already removed from the Alliance for assaulting an adventurer without any reason whatsoever. I am entrusted by the Alliance Master, on behalf of the Union of the Knights of the Klan, with the task of capturing and escorting the Lords and Lords. Clean, drop your sword and surrender!

It is a well-defined voice. However, no human being could be more discerning than to surrender at the tip of his mouth alone. Instead, the outlaws, when they saw her as a beautiful woman with no chaser left, attacked the collectors in the same direction, toward the Confederation of the Holy Knights.

"What the hell are you doing out there! Temei and the others are the summer bugs in the fire!

"Keh. The more a knight works, the sweeter this bottom of darkness is!

"I've been removed from the Alliance. There's a price to go!

"Don't feel bad, let the remnants of the world have plenty of fun with your biological daughter!

"Whoa! I'm the one they're dealing with!

The saints screamed as they called, and the men, dressed to ignore, waxed and colored and devoured towards the maidens of the Confederation of the Holy Knights.

"Stupid -. Wind God Atrocities (Large Tornado)"

Shannon did not make his cold beauty microscopic, but unleashed intermediate magic of wind attributes towards the impending men. An overwhelming wind of sorcery strikes out of his right arm protruding forward in sleigh.

When the storm eventually changed after the tornado, it swallowed without leaving any of the nearly twenty men who had just left it to the momentum to penetrate, cleaving them into pieces of finely chopped flesh.

"Everyone. Don't talk to me like a soldier!

Unicorns were missing, as if to respond to Rin Shannon's call. That's the signal for the assault. The maidens of the Confederation of the Holy Knights, bravely united in their voice, slashed into the remaining golden wolves.

It is a tremendous breakthrough. The skill of each of the crew members' swords was a love affair, almost reaching the realm of masters.

"Wow. There's plenty of sizkas..."

While the collectors blurred with their swords, the maidens of the Confederation of the Holy Knights flattened most of their enemies.

"Artemisia, let it go. At least a knife. Whoa!

Many times he soaked himself in the water of the swamp, and now Sir Binlich, who had lost the shadow to see with his tail feathers beaten to death, was bubbling up, and walked over. Its eyes, the color of despair, are dark.

It is a brawl. Artemisia is nowhere near. The collector twisted his arm as he took Sir Bienrich's blow from the front. As the sabel makes a clear sound and spins, it flies away to the other side.

Moment after moment, I saw Sir Binlich fished out his mouth horn satisfactorily.

It is at least a mercy. The collector punched his long sword into Sir Binlich's neck with all his might. The cutting edge, running diagonally sharp, killed Sir.

When the collector put his long sword in his sheath and raised his face, a woman knight named Shannon had just cracked the head of the enemy's skilled knight Krug from the horse.

- A horrible woman. But you're a sucky beauty.

"Whoa. Here he comes...?

"Excuse me, is your lord a member of Artemisia?"

"Die!

It was completely out of consciousness. A man diving in the swamp, at Shannon's feet, thought to have swept away the rest of the enemy, was slaughtered in anger. The unicorn stood sharply and wolfed. Seeing Shannon's calm face collapse easily, the collector was reflexively poking his hands out and jumping in. Tackling around the man's waist coincided with Shannon's sword flashing. She slashed the man's head down brilliantly, responding quickly, even though she was stunned.

but falling out of balance was inevitable.

"Whoops!

The splash rose along with a shitty water noise. The maidens of Pordina and the Confederation of the Holy Knights rush over. The depth of the water would be up to around the candle at best.

"Ooh, Ichi. You figure it out...?

As the collector reached out coughing, something slightly more or less touched the tip of his hand.

"What, this"

When I put my strength into it, the glossy voice dropped along with the strong elasticity. Opening his eyes, Shannon covered himself against the treasurer in front of him.

- Yeah. Once, let's calm down. And what is the true nature of this thing?

In short, the collector was dressed to hold Shannon over his belly, rubbing her glutes.

Position is close to riding. That's right, lady knight. You're also good at crossing men, and not long before the possessor thought of a guessy idea, Shannon's complexion turned red or blue, like a signal.

Yeah, it's bad. This.

"Ah, ah...!

Have you guessed the situation? The Sizkas and the maidens of the Confederation of the Holy Knights stand idly by to hold their cold gaze. This is force majeure. Nevertheless, no one is likely to believe me from my daily itinerary.

Unusual silence filled the scene.

Founder, calm down, calm down. In the meantime, I need to say something. To break the situation, the tongue of the collector danced magnificently.

"Ma, wait. This is an unfortunate accident. No, it's more of a lucky case for me."

"to, I'm pregnant......! My lord touched me. Something important...! You can have a baby."

When Shannon shouted so, he rose with a relieved look on his face, and when he grabbed the sword, he turned away from the spot as he baffled the water.

When the maidens of the Confederation of the Holy Knights stare at the collector with the kind of eyes they see their parents' enemies, they scream and rush, "Sister," "Sure," etc.

"You won for now......!

"Exactly, your husband"

Pordina was the only one to follow. When the collector approaches, everyone, except Pordina, takes the distance. Somehow the atmosphere was filled with shirake.

(Far away. Everyone's far away, even... Oh, what? Could it be, again, that they think I did something wrong with Dothax? Yes! You're lying, aren't you?

I do the facts. The zodiac's brain was even conveniently made for himself.

No triumph aftertaste, no shit. He said he won the battle and survived the crisis.

Why, why not? Unprecedented danger is looming upon us.

When the collector glanced at Sizka, she was staring back at her with such cold eyes as she had when it first happened. Probably the kind that doesn't need this nostalgia.

- This ditch is deeper and sadder than what was dug by the Alabama opera squid.