If It’s for My Daughter, I’d Even Defeat a Demon Lord (WN)

Latina is an animal lover.

In time, it also seemed easy for dog-based animals to be liked from the animal side. It's not uncommon for a walking dog to come over from the other side and get stuck with her, except for the "incident" that happened in Tissue Row.

But the cat seemed to keep his distance. I don't think it's a good way to get distance. The desire to touch, to stroke, is too far ahead, and they get away with it.

There is no such thing as a zoo in this world. For this reason, the types of animals that people living in the city can see are quite limited. What is kept as pets and livestock is at best.

Latina, in a strange way, seemed to make a rather cynical decision. He said he sees livestock as livestock and thought, "It's cute, but meat is delicious".

I can't be a vegetarian. Because it is delicious.

One day Latina heard this story from Sylvia, one of her best friends, in the school building of The Yellow God (Asphal), which she attends every day.

"Cat rally...... Huh!

It was a dream 'rally' story.

"Yes, yes. Cats get together at night. I've seen the city out in the middle of the day in Central Square."

"Cat...... cat, are you full?

"I'm here. It's amazing."

From the middle of Sylvia's story, Latina's expression has become rather upbeat and exciting.

"Cat... cat..."

"Latina just now, all I'm saying is' cat ', okay?

Sylvia laughed at Chloe's cold-sweated dialogue, but it didn't even seem to be heard by Latina.

(Full of cats...... eh. Some tiger cats, some white ones, some black ones! If there are a lot of them, I wonder what they can do)

The mind was out of sync paradise.

But there was a major obstacle.

It is time.

Latina is allowed to walk alone, but it is limited during the day.

Before - with my usual companions, to go to the monster sights on the night of "Holy Night" - I had gotten out and been pissed off, but he enjoyed not only Dale but also Rita and Kennis "worried" more than being pissed off. After that, he never tried to play night games on his own.

"... I'd like to see a cat rally... but..."

But "Dancing Tiger Cat Pavilion" is open at night. I can't ask Rita or Kenneth to go to Central Square with my selfish selfish selfish self.

Dale has irregular time to go home every day.

Besides, I couldn't put extra effort into Dale coming home tired. Latina has always had a side to Dale that I can hardly say because I 'love' her.

Somewhere, the adults looked at the latina eating dinner wonderfully.

Latina had a dream that night.

It was the sight of various cats stretching out their bodies thoughtfully on one side of the perimeter and playing around as they please.

I wondered if the paradise was here.

From time to time, he woke up the moment he reached for a fluffy kitten with a brown tiger pattern.

Latina thought in the futon she would have liked to have watched a little more if she had because she would wake up.

When I noticed, my pillow was wet with tears.

"What happened to Latina?

It was Dale's sudden dialogue, but it was a common perception shared by the adults gathered in The Dancing Tiger Cat Pavilion.

I thought you were blurry about something, ugh. and sigh.

"It's nothing," he shakes his head, even asking about his sad expression.

I wondered if he was trying to smile with a pleasant smile as he got lost in his thoughts.

Latina has a 'priori'.

While I was detecting her anomaly, the adults regretted that she had turned out to be cornered until I did something like 'break my own horn' to see how things were going later.

You can't leave this' anomaly 'behind.

That's why desperately, the moment I heard Latina's 'Reason' - - Dale was relieved and collapsed.

(too cute...... eh!)

"Dale?"

I can't even answer Latina's voice, who shivers her shoulders and cares about herself looking down. I'm sorry for the serious Latina, but I'm confident I'll laugh. It's also a relief.

"... If you're watching a cat, you don't have to hang out at night. Next to my house is the famous' Cat Mansion 'in the West End."

To the voice of our regular guest, Zilvester, Latina said, "Oh, my God!" I looked back with a look.

I still felt that my 'world' was narrow, not only because of the 'cat rally', but because the world has such a paradise.

By the time Dale looked up to me, Latina's interest had turned to Zilvester.

I'm late.

I don't know how, but while I'm telling you, I'm gonna put out an OK and say, "I knew I loved Dale the most!" and deviated from the chance you could say.

I feel like biting a handkerchief.

"Neighbor to Jill's house, Latina, I was wondering if I could go? Can't you?

"Next door. I have quite a relationship. I'll tell you what I know."

"Book Hit!? Thank you, Jill!

Gilvester's face, thanked by Latina with a full smile, is sloppily loose. The power of the grin brought to mind by the murderous minister, Zilvester, is amazing enough to use the ordinary expression that we are breaking up with each other.

"He's a solitary grandfather named Gojo Sihes, and he's from an island country across the ocean. That's a different name, isn't it?

"Hmm? Gilvester, again, can I ask your grandfather's name?

As Dale listened back, Zilvester repeated, wondering.

"He's a former adventurer named Gojo Sihes."

"... maybe I, the grandfather, know."

If Dale grumbled so after tracing his memory, Kennis as well as Zilvester seemed surprised.

"Speaking of old Shihes... some of the adventurers from the generation above me would have taken care of him... by the time Dale became an adventurer, he would have been completely retired"

Kennis twists his neck because it was himself who handled Dale as an adventurer.

"At my grandfather's funeral... there was a grandfather by that name. My grandfather, before I joined my son-in-law, I heard he was traveling around the world as a swordsman, so maybe he was one of them back then."

Dale's memory seemed certain, and an old man named Sihes, who Zilvester had mediated and engaged, when he heard that Dale was from Tislaw,

- - I screamed clearly distorted my expression.

"He said he was the grandson of Vendergard... Huh!

To the old man's appearance, Dale bowed his head reflexively.

"Excuse me, my grandmother, but that verse bothered you!

"Which verse," etc., is not what I found out. But no doubt, that grandmother must have done something to him. Anyway, it's that (...) grandmother.

Latina lost her voice in surprise at Dale's immediate run to apologize, and old Shihes looked somewhat complicated, soggy.

"... right. The grandson of Vendergard also means the grandson of Reinart."

That's how he muttered the name of Dale's grandfather, Reinart.

Old Sihes said Dale's grandfather Reinart was a party member when he was an adventurer.

Because Lady Venn was with them at one time, she said she had some knowledge.

"This is the first time I've heard a woman do something like an adventurer."

"Reinart was good at magic as well as sword arms, but had no healing magic aptitude due to his attributes. So I searched for a wizard who could get healing magic..."

"Ahhh..."

Oh, see, the attributes that Lady Venn has are 'heaven', 'water' and 'earth'. Growing up in Tislaw, who is skilled in magical techniques, she can be an expert in healing magic and defensive magic.

"Why would a little girl who specializes in the magic of combat aids come forward before the avant-garde and beat the beast to death?"

"Ahhh... ahhh... true, sorry..."

He was a small young daughter, the way Vendergard at the time full-bottled a warcraft far more gigantic than he was.

It was a sight where the men I remember in my arms were heartbroken and slightly traumatized.

Dale, his grandson, knows plenty about his grandmother's bullshit.

My grandmother, Vendergard, has' protection '. "The God of Orange (Cormosey)" was only one pillar, but its "protection" was higher than Dale's.

It was on purpose that its high-ranking 'shelter' would form that allowed it to act out of common sense, such as beating down a giant warcraft.

And it's 'the' personality.

None of them were thought to have remembered that it was a red dot among them.

"Even if you have a friend's eye... from what I can tell, Reinart was the one who made it. He was a colored man, so he could have picked all he wanted... how could he have been Vendergard?

"I think that's a mystery, even from my grandson."

Or it was the fact that everyone in the clan (Tislaw) would lean their necks.

He was a grandfather, Reinart, who was the "leftover" from the outside that he joined his son-in-law, but his grandfather, in Dale's memory, was a respected and admired figure by anyone in the clan.

It was before the arrival of Master Cornelio that he also took on the role of educator to the children of the clan and handled swordsmanship to his son Randolph and grandson Dale. Dale, a group of hunters and a clan native who specializes in bows, had his grandfather's teachings on the board to deal with swords, but it was late.

A personable person, one with no defenses to do anything. The only shame is that he is the son-in-law of that (...) Vendergard.

- No, it's that one, maybe even Vendergard could accept it.

It was a memorable tale of the elderly Tislaw, familiar with the time, whining with a distant eye. At the time, the men of the clan, who were of the same age as Lady Venn, unanimously said, "I can't!" Apparently.

- - I don't know Dale, my grandson, that the young Vendergard was doing something adventurous "outside" because he was looking for a son-in-law.

In front of Dale, listening to his grandfather's old story, Latina was moving on with one hand to pack her distance from the big white cat.

Simply setting up a mansion in a luxury residential neighborhood in the West Side of Kreutz, Old Shihes lived employing several servants. Even if there are many beasts called cats that live alone to comfort Willow, there is no rough impression of them in the room.

Latina shrugged the moment she was put through the living room and saw the many cats she spent relaxing.

I've never even seen Dale, he's shabby, he's a little surprised.

"Eh! Dale! Dale!! Cat, cat! Lots!"

It was momentum with all the exclamation marks on the dialogue, halfway around, jumping a little.

What surprised me more than Dale was the cats in the room, and in that moment Latina was made a target of vigilance. Some cats fled the room immediately.

(That's bad... latina...)

But it seems that the excited Latina can't calmly grasp the situation, and she chased them to hunt down the escaped cats.

Perhaps Dale analyzes the impulse that builds up, even though it doesn't usually work out, that can't be contained.

As a result, Latina, who had been completely treated by the cats as' dangerous people ', had been fled without being able to narrow the distance.

But neither does she give up on that, and she has repeatedly tried.

Even now, a white cat had just jumped up onto a shelf that didn't fit her big body.

Latina drops her shoulder disappointingly.

"Good luck Latina is cute too"

On Dale's lap whining so, a cat with black bumps sleeps relaxed. Dale was caressing the beast loosely, thinking about how to speak up to Latina.

In a latina in its current state, it would get away with waking up the cat out loud. If you stay asleep, you can let Latina caress you as much as she wants, so we have to calm Latina down somehow.

Such a dail, the old man watched, overlapping the shadow of an old friend he hadn't thought back for a long time.

He gave a deep wrinkled carved face a softly thought-provoking look that swallowed emotions filled with calm, hot things, in the time that had passed.