Level 99 First Territorial Management by Adventurers

Blood gushing flesh leaping.

There would be no more worthy word to describe the sight being played out in the arena right now.

A word of majesty and bravery as the Rock Giant (Jarloot) fought hard there. Every drop of sweat, every drop of blood, also increases the degree of excitement in the audience.

Even now, a rock giant smashed his opponent's jaw with a stick, his face distorted to an unlikely extent. The sound of bone crushing is going to be heard in the audience.

Meanwhile, the rock giant, who was supposed to have suffered major injuries, doesn't pull a step. Grab and crush the opponent's arm, waving a stick all in return. The muscles are compressed, the bones are broken and the arms, which were thicker than the human legs, are only thinner in that area.

Let them cut the bones and cut the meat off - not so elegant.

If they do it, I'll do it again - not like the mumbling struggle.

I'll do it because that's normal.

Just follow your instincts and fight.

Injured, injured is just the result. It is not an end.

Muscles gush, bones break, sweat erupts, blood flows.

Such a sight was unfolding everywhere in the arena. The audience is no exception, and the sight of some heated up spectators starting to beat each other up and being held up by guards of the security is scattered.

What is happening now was not a war or a boxing match, but a representative decision that betrayed the Rock Titans' right to challenge Exile, the Destroyer King.

I was the rock giant warriors who gathered, but I understand Exile's strength by participating in the Knights of the Rock Giants' training during my stay - though to some extent.

God told me to pick a representative from a recognized warrior, not dissatisfied. Instead, everyone was convinced that it made sense.

Nevertheless, I did not accept everything. A human magician (wizard) suggested a game method called a tournament for leagues, but refused.

Fairness is not necessary. Just as steel comes from crucifixion, the true strong emerge from a harsh environment.

It wouldn't even convey such a philosophy, but on this day, the audience gathered in the arena was certainly enthusiastic.

Massive appearances of rock giants were discussed not only in Falv, but also in Hardenturm and Mainz, as some visitors to Hardenturm to see the sea and some split into mountains near Mainz for hunting.

As such, due to the fact that there has been a lot of interaction and also the expectations of the real militants, this qualifier has also been visited by many humans. The qualifying games played by the Rock Titans, including the response to the incident, were a good test for the production.

And the Rock Titans' death struggle greets the good.

There are fewer who stand on two feet in the arena, and the weak fall to the ground and cannot move.

It was a truly abusive game method, but the strong remained.

La Gu's famous hand, “Stonearm” Milsack.

Running through the rocky mountains like a plain, "the diseased" Elizaoua.

“Rock Dragon Body” Manuda, which houses the power of the dragon in its body.

“Dawn Guardian” Kohler keeps the peace of the settlement night.

Even the giant rock giant has an enormous “atrocity” gugam.

All are a thousand fierce men on one horse.

“Stone Arm" Milsack smashes his waving enemies with his long arms like a whip.

The blow fired from Elizaoua's inflected self is sure to take the opponent's life.

“Rock Dragon Body” Manuda produces a golden scale on rock-like skin with prayers to the dragon god Bahamut and burns it down with exhalation of light.

The "Guardian of Dawn” Kohler releases a counter that doesn't look like a rock giant by taking a later lead thanks to his exceptional eyesight and skill.

The giant stick that “atrocious” Gugam wields does not allow defense or evasion.

"You're one good quick one with that big one!

The person intended to whisper, but the voice sounded solid even in an avid arena. The surrounding audience, reflectively turning their gaze to the Lord of the Voice, looks at the figure for a moment.

Someone observed with a sharp gaze how they compare forces around the two chairs.

Regnum, Archbishop of Regrax.

Musculoskeletal great. I'd rather be mixed up with a rock giant than in the audience. No, a great looking man who should still do that now.

Without worrying about such glances and thoughts, the muscles that had grown his moustache took their seats. The cloak of Archbishop Regnum flies, and the audience falls in love with its refreshing appearance.

But his mind was already away from the arena.

I saw what I needed to see.

All you have to do is prepare for the real thing.

Originally, the Falv Grand Martial Arts Association was held as a cargo of work from the Kanto Regrax.

Regrax has also been assigned a frame of appearance, and I have already declined the suggestion that the qualification for determining its representative should not be the militant party initially scheduled.

A rare opportunity. Then we should put in the strongest of the temples of Legra.

One is Archbishop Regnum himself.

The other one, it's already been decided.

Changing purpose? Exactly.

But nothing's wrong.

Because this is the choice God wanted.

"So, I know it's hard, but it's a lot to say."

"Leave it to Atashi."

Hardenturm's, no, Larsia unifies the society behind the Marquis of Istas.

The centre of that organization, which has no name, exists in the basement of a certain whorehouse.

Larsia, who laid down her waist on the throne dedicated to him installed there, called out to her partner who would serve beside her - who would no longer say so - Ritna.

"When it comes to betting bills, you can use my judges to prevent counterfeiting. And be careful with the multiplier. Then, keep your eyes peeled more closely at the stall. Oh, yeah, yeah. I'll have a meeting with the guards about security once. Keep people out of the way."

"Yes, sir. I'm already worried."

Like that, Ritna smiles. Now, a smile similar to that of the Mother of Mercy.

Since there was a hidden disturbance in Larsia - after all, she was my niece - she had some sort of spare time.

Nature.

Yes, we stand firm on Larsia, and then we rule naturally.

"How's Larsia doing better than that?

"It's always the same. I don't know what better state I'm in than on the battlefield."

The divine body (avatar) strokes and inspires the head of a husband who speaks so confidently - he will say no more.

The grassland race (Magner) therefore has a rare thirst for obsession with victory and defeat and strength, but the man works hard. Supporting it is a woman.

At the same time, to mark you as not escaping, put your lips against your neck muscles -

"Brother! What do you want?

"Oh, Merla, I've been waiting for you."

- When Larsia rose from the throne, she left as if nothing had happened. with a complete poker face.

"I wanted to ask you something."

"What's your salary?

"Let it out. 50 Gold Coins"

"Do it!"

The place to answer instantly without even asking about the content is actually a meadow race, but that's why Larsia's sister. That look, including the immediate cloudiness.

"Is this...?

A botanical paper booklet that Larsia hands down one after the other. Merla asked as she stacked it at the nearby table without even looking at the contents.

"Materials."

"Of what?

"It's for the host of the tournament. I turned to the side."

I was going to live with the spell support, but while competing, that's hard too.

Well, I'm not saying it's impossible, but I can't do a lot of things.

Therefore, I called for an understudy.

"Huh? Do you read this?

"Because I made it."

Of course, it was Larsia's men who made it. However, it is not an exaggeration to say that Larsia made it because of the proper addition. By grassland species standards.

"Well, fine. More than that, brother. Something like," For reading when a masked swordsman removes his mask, "or" For when it turns out who the Great Sage's partner is, "I have a designation."

"Read it when the masked swordsman removes his mask, or when he finds out who the great sage's partner is."

"Oh well. Okay."

Brothers and sisters who live with sensitivity, that's all they got through to each other.

If you have yut. No, I can remember anxiety if anyone else - the only sight I have is anxiety.

But no one of the meadow species here felt that as one, and we were set to prepare steadily for the day.

Why it took two months for the tournament to take place.

Of course, it can't be prepared overnight, but it also means that it took so long to create magic equipment (magic items).

Rather than, it was a due date setting that anticipated it.

"I'm sorry you got critical, old man"

"No problem."

Yut's workshop in the fortress of Falve.

Miscellaneous magic equipment or your weapon armor to be demonized. The Rock Titans had visited that room, which was littered with various writings and the like in a scroll (scroll) enclosed with a theoretical spell.

I don't care about the mess, or the fact that if I put together and disposed of the unmade items on that floor, I would be able to live in luxury until my grandchildren's generation for the rest of my life.

I just stare at the armor and shield placed in the center of the room.

The day before the tournament. No, should I say the night before?

Yut is right, the new power of Exile, which has become critical and completed.

"I guess I'll start with the shield. This one's pretty much the same as the previous one. You shouldn't be uncomfortable."

"Let me try"

Exile, Yut pointed out - at anything, it's hard for him to lift it - when he lightly hands the big shield (Heavy Shield), he snaps his hand off the small fitting word (Test Word).

Then he stayed on the spot as if it were hoisted with invisible yarn and followed the owner - Exile - as he moved.

Let's go.

A dagger (short sword) that had been placed unconstructively. About 20 cm across the blade, Yut threw it with an exile behind his back.

An attack that is neither powerful nor motivated when it comes to unintentional strikes.

But enough to check the operation.

The Great Shield of Magic travels solo, bouncing off its dagger.

Metal shoots at each other, a tall sound.

I didn't signal that, but the Dagger, whose ability to "Reverse (Return)" was demonized, went back to Yut's hand.

"Adamantine, but it doesn't change the way you use it."

"That's more than anything. Take care of it."

"I can't take such care of someone who can break this guy."

"Well, well."

Lightly consenting, Yut turned his attention to the next piece of equipment.

If they ask what it is, most of them will tilt their necks and still answer with armor. Dragon Scale (Dragon Skyle) armor that protects your torso and stronghold with reddish-brown scales strapped to dragon skin.

However, the shoulder area protrudes so vertically that it is likely to inhibit movement, and the body is quite heavy. As the demonized Wall of Loneliness (Wall Fort) calls it, it also looks like you're wearing the fort as it is.

"It's easier to move than it looks"

"If you're old man or Val's muscle strength, you must be. I can barely move."

Exile, cleverly armored by himself, moves his body gently with his autonomous running shield intact. Unless you swim like this or even show off in the light industry. I mean, it's perfectly fine for waving weapons.

"Dragon scales belong to the Red Dragon on Orthodox. When you purge, you blow up the flames."

"I have to thank Urdan."

While thanking the dragon mechanic who was not here, Exile sarcastically distorted the edge of his mouth.

"But it's also a funny story to be given gear by Yut, who will be enemies this time"

"Valtroude would say it doesn't make sense if you beat a full Exile."

I am too busy to have much time for the couple, I feel slightly different, but I know as much as I think about it.

"Hmm. If you're Yut, what do you say?

"Win or lose is good, but I don't want to plan a second time"

I mean, it doesn't make sense if you don't do it in full swing.

"Same as husband and wife"

"Val wants to win. I don't want to do it again. Not at all."

"Then can Yut lose?

"I'm going to win. That way, you don't have to give a prize."

Hearing the words, Exile chuckles with her teeth out. It has to be, it has to be.

"You fighting people"

"Well, I'm gonna do a test drive"

"From now on."

"Oh, from now on, it doesn't matter how many times you use it tomorrow."

The Orphan Wall is capable of being huge only three times a day for ten minutes. Yut smiles, too, in words that presuppose fighting to the finals.

"If you're an old man, don't you have to use it once to win?

"But you can't be alarmed."

That said, Exile left the workshop.

I guess I'll be checking the performance of the new gear against someone from the Knights of the Rock Giants. On the way home from buying the game, he's like a kid who can't bear to read the instructions.

"Well, shall I go to bed?"

Tomorrow is the real deal.

The word I said I would win is not a lie. If it is to carry no further hardship or work, no effort is spared.

Winning is what's best for the future.

If you think of the contestant's face, that was self-evident.