Kuro no Maou

Dancers of the Desert Country are said to boast one of the best beauty and glamour on the continent.

Dressed in brightly colored and remarkable costumes, he rocks a see-through vale and dances in a fierce, demonic, night-light light.

Farasha grew up on one of those dancers.

Mother is a dancer of the stream. The father is a mercenary, apparently.

By the time I was in the mood, I was left behind in a certain seat, and my mother had gone away. Thinking of Farasha like that as a pathetic abandoner, there can be no thank-you for one of the seats you raised me - either.

Though a dancer, the reality is no different from that of a whore. It's just that for the skill of inviting a man named Dance, he's more of a geisha than just a hooker.

And one raised his abandoned son Farasha because of the beauty of his mother's concession. In anticipation of his future, Farasha learned the day after he first took a customer that he had been sold to one.

"I don't care now"

Farasha, who sold pure blood at the age of twelve, had no despair or disappointment, especially when it came to this. Perception to a good extent because it sold for a pretty high price.

From a young age on, I mean, I've seen both the dancers' tables and the back, and I used to understand what kind of world this is and what kind of situation I am in.

"Crap, just a world of appearances -"

Just to sell the melancholy to a man, beautifully dressed, dances crazy. The best beauty on the continent, etc. just looks good when you hear it, and what you're doing is no different than the way insects flock to honey.

"- But I have talent"

Even in this vain and dirty world, no, that's why Farasha has ambitions.

"I just want to thank you for giving birth to me as a genius, Mother I can't even remember my face anymore"

Farasha, seventeen.

At that time, she was climbing down to the best dancer in the desert country, with all her fame.

In the long, wavy platinum hair, surrounded by a brown body boasting perfect proportions are the finest golden and glowing costumes knitted in gold thread and numerous outfits coloured with pure gold and gemstones. But also brilliant costumes are nothing more than props to enhance her charm.

Two names given to her like that are "The Golden Maiden".

Farasha standing on stage was, above all, more beautiful than anyone else.

Her streams take her heart away, and the supple brown flesh that dances and dances blows reason away. Its unusual beauty and, above all, its brilliant dance, which draws a line with other dancers, puts those who see her stage in a 'charm (charm)'.

Along with his fame as a dancer, Farasha's price jumps without knowing the ceiling. Only some limited royal aristocrats and large merchants can buy her already.

And not a single man in a desert country wants to end his relationship with her, wielding an overwhelming charm, in just one night.

After being able to rub under the water so much as a civil unrest, Farasha was to marry a young lord of a great nobility.

The decision-maker publicly said she loved him herself.

"Hehe, what a stupid man... I can't believe I'm just welcoming a dancer to my real wife"

There were countless men who would take their engagement to Farasha, but very few even said to their rightful wives among the royal marquis nobles. No matter how crazy you are about her charm, the limit is to stay in side chambers, concubines, such as a dancer who just stood up with a single piece of art that could never have been born anywhere.

That is why Farasha set a goal for him alone and approached him himself. You're the only one I really love.

"There's no such thing as love. No, there's no love in this world."

No woman in this desert country would have been told more about love than herself.

But Farasha has never remembered such emotions as love when she was born. I don't know love. I don't believe in love.

Love is a poetic expression of lust, and one day the bard of the stream was lying, but Farasha thinks it is exactly right.

"I don't need love. So give me more money, more fame, more status, you know."

The ambition Farasha had when she learned about the filth of the world, when she understood her talents.

That is to be the queen of this desert country.

I was just a dancer of a despicable birth, but I genuinely decided to make such a dream story come true.

Because there is no love in this world, and winning happiness is just a force.

Violence, financial power, power. The strong, the one who stands above men, the one who rules, have power.

So Farasha vowed to live, believing in the only and absolute power she could have, which was charm. Not to God, just to himself.

In so doing, he holds an intense upward orientation in his chest, smiles at men as dirty as swarms of insects, and hones his special training in dance to the point of throwing up blood reflexes and his skills to push humiliation and delight the killing man.

With the will of steel to be sure that it would become, and the effort of seeping blood, and with all his believed talents, Farasha became the supreme dancer, and now let the status of the righteous wife of the great nobility be put to rest.

But this is just a crossing point, too.

From now on, we have to fight through a new battlefield: the social world, not the dancer's stage.

If you are a young, talented husband, it is not impossible to overthrow the present king. Besides, by joining together, if you hold many of the royal aristocracy's weaknesses, you will also be able to plunge this country into a crucible of confusion.

I chose this man as my partner because he has the talent and position to make use of everything Farasha has. The road to the queen is finally visible.

"But you have a kid before that. A man really has a son."

Generate inheritance. It is the greatest role required of a full wife.

The boulder Farasha, too, whether or not he is given a man, is no other than to offer prayers to the black gods sitting in the desert heavens.

Although life, which never extends to the power of man, betting only on heaven's luck, was an unprecedented anxiety - fulfilling it, her prayers made sense.

"Congratulations, ma'am! It's the birth of your heir!

The first child, a boy, was born.

For the first time in my life, I feel I have offered my gratitude to God.

Now the problem, which was my biggest concern, was cleared. All you have to do is use this pawn named Son to get up and go as planned.

"This is my boy"

Just crying, a newborn baby. Beautiful, I don't even think it's cute, my newborn baby looks like a monkey... disgusting, I thought.

But I wonder why. Try to hold my born child in this hand, and what will it feel like to sprang up?

Heavy. The weight I feel as Zuri is not just heavy. It wasn't just a painful weight like luggage, it wasn't the satisfaction of holding a blinding gold and silver gem full of arms, and I thought, this is the weight of life.

I don't know myself, but a big emotional twist springs up from the back of my chest without interruption. Farasha just kept staring at my child in her arms blindly, and, uh, snapped.

"Oh...... cute, my baby"

And so Farasha became her mother, from a mere woman.

How is she so cute?

Lift, accompany, milk, and tuck. As a mother's responsibility, even as she began to take care of my child, she did not understand.

How can you be so cute, my son?

Ever since I was born, I can't keep my eyes open. I can't help but worry about it. With a slight reaction, with a slight change, it makes me happy and worried.

"Nuh."

Especially pointless, he raised his voice like a squeal, and his son laughed in his hugged chest, feeling like.

I don't even know if it's that smile. When I saw my child's smile, Farasha realized.

How can you be so cute - that it's because I love you.

"Oh, how dare you, my child"

Is that an instinctive emotion that naturally occurs when you become a mother?

No, I'm sure this is the first, genuine love that Farasha felt, believing there was no love.

The man who whispered love and shouted love was beyond counting.

But no one thought they loved themselves. I would never feel love for that fortune, even if I gave my life.

Because it's just, it's crazy. Before the overwhelming power of Farasha's charm, a man cannot help but go mad.

I mean, anyone can go crazy. What if there was a woman more attractive than me?

But it's just me for this kid. I only have Farasha, my mother. Only my mother, herself, is asking me sincerely.

I didn't think that was just an instinct as an organism.

At least for Farasha, the son in this chest is the man who loved herself the most in the world, and she is the woman who loved him the most in the world.

"Love, love, love! I love you, my boy!

Farasha's ambitions were thus crushed.

Become a queen? I'm not stupid, what crap.

If I have time for that, I want to stay in touch with my son for an inch longer. What would you do if you missed the first moment you got up!!

Everything in my life so far, all the hard work, time and misery I've spent, everything for myself.

But what nonsense is that?

How happy of you to offer yourself to those you love.

Yes, this is who I am and who I am. Because I love you so much.

Farasha, who became a mother and loved her son, was at the pinnacle of happiness.

My loving son, sparingly loving, grows up healthy.

As you grow up, you will not be able to see yourself giving in.

Shit, our son is too handsome!? It would take one shot to fascinate (charm) if this was stared at - the god of beauty is also a beloved and immortal beautiful man - I lean the country wow... etc. Farasha watching my son grow was at the top of his happiness and his clear and cunning brains were totally swinging off.

Therefore, she did not notice.

Negative emotions, which exist because there is love. Seven major sins are one.

"Hey, mother!

My son's fifth birthday has also passed, one day. As he walked through the mansion, holding hands, his son, with a joyful and courageous expression, pointed at his fingers.

If Farasha looked ahead, what was there was a maid serving in the mansion and her daughter or sister, a girl still young, cleaning together as an apprentice.

"That kid is so cute! I was wondering if we could be friends."

My son did give me a little apprentice girl who works cleaning and said so.

I guess it just caught my interest to say that she was a rare kid in the mansion, the same age as myself. Apprentice girls look very mediocre, not even as cute as they say. From Farasha, who has seen every beautiful girl and beauty as a dancer, she's just an ordinary girl who doesn't even put her teeth on her teeth.

"Pretty? Um, little girl?

My son said he was cute.

That's just it, the intense and ugly emotions that made someone abhorrent, long forgotten in Farasha.

Yes, I found out about true love, but therefore, she finally realized.

To the fact that this is an emotion called 'jealousy'.

"This female kid. Ah! He's obsessed with my sweet son..."

I'll kill him, and Farasha, who screams and kicks the mirror table in his bedroom, was rough in the rough.

My son is cute, right after I said it, I don't really remember what I said. I just have a consciousness that I forgot me with so much anger that I turned bright red in front of me.

Still, I guess I did my best to explode that anger of jealousy until I came back to my invisible bedroom. No matter how much anger drives you, you will never break the figure of a beautiful mother in front of my dear child.

"Yes, I'm Farasha, the best dancer in this country, the Golden Dance Princess! I am the only woman she deserves!!

The sight of a woman besides herself standing next to her son is even an abominable worst future to imagine. No one else deserves to stand next to my son.

Love? Marriage?

No need. Just with me, that's fine. No, only I deserve to be, just one woman.

Because I'm the best beauty ever.

"Ah..."

I kicked him down, and the mirror smashed into pieces, and my face was pictured.

As always, beautiful. Even now, there is so much luscious beauty there that it can be said that no dancer has a beauty comparable to Farasha's.

But I realize it because it's my face I look at every day.

It's destiny you can't escape. Farasha is not a fairy who is an eternal girl, but a human woman, therefore.

"Also, could I..."

Old.

Not yet, not a single twist. Firm brown skin is luminous - but compared to that mediocre apprentice girl, perhaps less than ten, her skin.

If it's a creature called a human, it's a natural consequence. In the first place, it would be the skin of the baby that boasts the utmost softness.

For my age, I can never beat you. It was a cruel and absolute natural dish ordained by God.

"Ah, uh..."

For the first time in his life, Farasha realized something called his own decay, despairing.

Going forward, every year my son will be beautiful and will grow successfully.

But how about yourself? Not yet, I just keep looking like I can name two names: "The Golden Princess". But what happens next year, next year… ten years later?

Can I stand next to my adult son, ten years later, fulfill and remain a 'golden princess'?

"... I want"

To be my beloved son and the woman who fishes. She has a new desire.

"I want to be beautiful"

I want to be beautiful. I want to be young. I want to keep my own, my best charm.

The common desire, which the vast majority of the women of the world will have once, however - makes them step off the path of Farasha, who has begun to go mad with the love of her mother and the passion of her woman.

Preserve eternal beauty.

She searched desperately for a way to do it. I did anything, and I tried everything.

However, if there are many rumours of eyebrow saliva, such as beauty laws, they just don't work, and there can even be negative effects. To Farasha, who was at the cutting edge of beauty technology as a dancer, I knew a hundred things about that, but resisting the merciless time-limit of age, she was also a strawy thought.

I know what I can't do.

Still, I can't help wishing.

I feel uninterrupted impatience at the appearance of my son, who grows up more than I imagined, after every year of age, as I imagined.

It's time to bring up the engagement story of a political marriage. Neither is it strange for my son himself to be interested in a woman.

And most importantly, at that time, I was aware of the maid apprentice girl who said she wanted to be my friend and the fact that I'd seen her every now and then stealing this mother's eyes.

"I will not forgive... Never, I will not forgive..."

At the earliest, no means had been chosen.

With a frenzied look of jealousy on his faintly beginning to float, Farasha finally strikes out to the last resort.

Responding to her desire was a dubious cult organization in the shadows of a desert country.

What the cult priest gave Farasha was a wielding dagger.

A demonic knife that emits a golden glow, as if it were made of pure gold. It was a calamitously beautiful, liturgical sword used in various sacrificial rituals.

- So, this is my cult sword.

And Hilda the Killer wields a golden dagger pulled out of his sheath.

A single-edged body depicting a gentle arc releases a golden glow that will not fade forever. A blade of pure gold, more than that, must look unusually giddy because its dagger is a 'curse weapon'.

The name is called 'Crisalis of Enchantment'.

"This kind of thing is, by and large, fake, but here it is. That's why that Farasha mom really used it, too, to be young."

Farasha with a cult liturgical sword with real power. There is no detailed record of what she did with it.

Still in the Atlas Desert, The Golden Maiden Farasha is told off as a legendary dancer.

Her story ends where she married the head of the young grand aristocracy.

The subsequent acts of Farasha are not spoken of, perhaps because they were too vague.

At the very least, it is an indisputable fact that the cult liturgical sword, which at the time was only unnamed, was turned into a weapon of curse named by her hand.

"Here, how do you think I'll use it?

The gold blade just boasts a gorgeous beauty. In the first place, gold is a metal unsuitable for blades.

Legend has it that, every now and then, golden weapons appear, but they are not merely made of pure gold, but have some special magic or divine protection, and are therefore only emitting their brilliance.

And this farasha dagger still has the slashing flavor that kept ripping through numerous prey, in the form of a curse.

"Easy to use, no difficult spells, no complicated rituals -! Just stab me with this blade, slash me, gouge me, bathe me in blood - like this."

A golden blade wielded unconstructively blossoms in Russia.

"Gahhhhhhhh!!

It was one boy that Hilda stabbed and screamed.

Tied to an iron pillar, he pierced his thigh by a dagger.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

Not deep enough to be life-threatening yet. But the pain of being stabbed through the leg is unbearable even if it's not a child.

Why should he be seen so badly?

Ask Hilda that and she'll answer:

Because he's been helped by Ash.

"Then scream at that rate and call Ash quickly. If you can't, I'll have my brother Kung do it next, good luck, brother."

Thus Hilda was cursed and waved down the golden blade, even on the opposite foot.