Lonely Attack on the Different World

Day 131 Night Street

Hole digging - pathetic. But I'm alarmed because it's a promising wasteland, and there's no more digging holes and thinking I'm lurking. And countless holes themselves turn into traps, no matter how hard a border escort can be attached if you aim only at the foot of the opponent from inside the hole, and not least if a horse or carriage wheel hangs on the hole so that you can escape, it becomes impossible to escape. And if you don't miss it, the information won't flow.

It's a tactic said to be used by the barbarians of a vulgar group of herds and males, and it draws noble blood. It's not extremely lowly for me, but it's really just right for the measures of the inferior bandits.

Even if the bandit army teacher wants to achieve the great aspirations, he will surely let the grief be accomplished. Reconstruction of our proud Umbortelloso family. Let the royal family bear witness, and let the crown take hold and please the Umberterrosso kingdom.

Betray our honorable nobility, and all that royal family and present nobility will give it to the Blood Festival... and kill that exotic underdog brunette hungry ghost, the good ladies in front of their eyes for the comfort of the soldiers, and then ruin them. Well, if you're going to beg for your life, you can make some of them my youngest, or you can make them my sidekick, or you can make them my sidekick, but you seem to have enough beauty to show off.

For the sake of that glory, we must now raise military funds even by denigrating ourselves to the bandits. It is this humiliation that feeds the wolf smoke of vengeance.

Only to take back into our hands what should be offered to our noble bloodline, whose obnoxious peripheral flavors hold disproportionate wealth... earthsmoke seems to have hung its prey in the distance. The story of the rebirth of our Umbortelloso family begins now, enduring the humiliation of this miserable bandit mastermind.

Buried and hidden in the soil, but between the countless holes and the holes, there is a sturdy rope stretched out, it is important to ensure that it is not missed. He was chased by low-status policemen and so forth, and wandered all the way to such a remote place, but from here the curtain of the legend of our rebirth is raised.

Growing earthly smoke, early horses at night like this?

But if you go through the longitudinal streets of this kingdom from the side of the border, you will be packing gold or merchandise. Banditry is humiliating, but I will give you an honorable role as the first step to regain my honour and glory.

"It's a big win. That mark is a luggage wagon from the Chamber of Commerce of Zuccaria, in a mountain of treasure that's a thousand bucks in a row."

The far-sighted adversary is excited. It is lamentable that the uplifting flair of the dirty periphery makes the width advantageous in the kingdom from which it comes. The demons and the same barbarians must punish the kingdom with our faces.

"Don't hurt the load. If there is anything to be given to the abominable periphery, there is even room to ask for life, kill the man and like the woman. Don't break the carriage, either."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. The guy who screwed up is a jerk, if you want to have fun, he's a jerk."

Lower bitch, he's like a beast man, but now he doesn't have a pawn. Goosebumps in defilement, but now in the midst of femininity, the nobility of our historic famous family must regain the kingdom and recognize the greatness of true honorable blood muscles with both the lowly people.

"You are a woman! That's a good woman...... no escort?

"The streets will be safe and high, lure them to the side streets with fallen trees."

The planted tree collapses and the wagon turns toward the side road that leads to the street. This is the difference between a cultivated man and a barbarian wielding a sword, who immediately refuses to leave and surrounds him.

"Stop. Eh! There's holes everywhere ahead. We can't move on. Whoa!

It's a wagon, if no escort is there, it's a shame to break it, and horses are precious. Carriages parked at slower speeds are loaded with cargo, some cash for buying might be enough to command a new regiment of mercenaries.

A woman looks down from your stand, it certainly looks good. Among the aristocrats, all the inferiors said, "The woman on the border has dirty blood, but good looks and tastes," but she looked like a rumor. I don't care how much you want to put on the side woman...

"Don't kill that woman. It's good to have fun, but it'll be for sale, don't let him get hurt."

"Of course. Come on, you can't kill such a farewell. Before you sell it, it's good luck. Come on."

If it is not urgent to collect gold, you can give me noble compassion, and it may be easier to earn money without selling it. Long limbs on a tight body will be dressed in a tight, but well-crafted face that evokes a work of art. Even in a crude outfit that just wraps around a cloak of travel, the limbs are beautiful enough to be for sale in plays and spectacles.

"Wow, bandit? You were still there, weren't you?!? No, I haven't stuttered in a long time, are you seriously bandits? I like it. Hey, to this economy."

"I behaved like a barbarian on the border inside as I strong-looked down, at least if I rubbed my head against the ground and begged, I might have been given my noble compassion. But it is worth dying that the people of the inferior bitch can't even thank you for looking down at a certain family member without even kneeling down. Whatever you want, savages."

It is a beauty that does not even extend to noble ladies and ladies, if only in sight, but it is useless except for the body in an upbringing disrespectful to savage language. I also thought there was no proper way to miss these guys who listen to women and booze, but being disrespectful to the noble is hard to forgive.

Eyes on the load, screaming and bloody wind as I was valuing the load. What are you doing!

"I would have told you not to scratch! Just tie it up and load the carriage first...... hey no!

The monster - the less a cheap bandit, the more a mercenary collapses, and those who were soldiers through many wars are slaughtered without a single sword. The beast of the border, the appearance of a brutal, extreme devil who is not a man. Inside the cape of the stripped travelling costume is the armor of a thin and refined statue of a beautiful woman as if she were to stick to her body, a beauty that would not be valued as a craft or a work of art.

But the sword that strikes and wields is a Wesen, a fierce beast that jumps and cleaves like a thousand pieces of meat.

"I won't let that load touch a finger on a piece of junk like that. That boy made it for me, retarded. All I know is that it's awesome for me, but it's all treasure in the dream of the border. It's Zakarya's responsibility to deliver that dream, because it's meant to make people happy... I won't let you touch one finger or another, that's all I can repay, I won't let you touch it!

The mistress - whose face is beautiful and neat - is horrified by the look of anger as if it were a ruthless demon. The "Kao" looks like a brutal demon. It is as if the legendary dragon who protects the treasure loves to see the load, and only increases the terrible death to the eyes who return it. Blood smoke rises every time the sword of an animal strikes with one eye, blood winds and roughness like a whirlwind.

The standings and sword muscles are like amateurs, but a forward leaning beastly attitude with no gaps whatsoever. But it is not the skill of those who have learned an authentic sword technique, whose flashes are sharp and sick as beasts, and whose blows are as fierce and harsh as demons, but as beautiful as cruelty.

"If it's been a long time since I've had a bad feeling about it, bandits and I have an old-fashioned hobby, Retro, in this day and age... there were still idiots like this left, I was stunned. Are you licking the border? How could a mutt fish who can't beat a demon beat a neighbor who fights a demon? Well, if we can beat demons, if we can be adventurers, we can make as much money as we want, right? Are you stupid?

This is what lives the border, the savages who kill each other with demons. Fierce and savage, but polished by battle sword moves, crude but beastly beauty, despised and neglected by the honorable blood muscles... the beautiful figure that makes us feel noble about our jealousy flashes the sword because it has a monopoly on the beauty that our nobles pursued. There is no way that more beautiful and savage blood can be recognized than those of our noble blood, who see the silver rays looming.

A bunch of bandits, one chopped up after the other, scream a lower house entrusted with a group of leaders gathered with no gold.

"Shit! to, run...... this guy is a bandit hunting" ghost princess "! I've heard of that setup... Guuuuuuuuuuu"

Blood scatters, blood winds dye the heavens peachy, crimson winds rough. Unforgivable, my sorrow...

"Who do you think I am, this filthy flair of the lower realm... Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh!

My noble blood dyes the sky red. The beauty of turning your back and disappearing without a glance is the curse. He would therefore have been jealous, fearful of his strength, and despised for being a creature different from ours. Naturally, I fall in love with that savagery, such as this honorable charm of mine... curse me...

"You're in a big deficit, but it's a flower for you. Show that flower ornament in hell to a ghost or a demon. Thoughtful, hear how much blood the boy who made that flower has shed, suffered pain, and fought with agony and wheeze? Even hell will start renovating too much embarrassment. If anyone takes what she's made, I'll bet the name of this Zuzaka Lya that I'll kill them all, not lick the merchant on the border."

Cursing stares with blurring vision, its beautiful hindsight. Ancestors, everyone hates the border, naturally. You grudges, jealousies, curses, abominations.

We noblemen are proud of our honorable blood, it fights the labyrinth, hunts down demons to the border, and is the blood of heroes... whoops. We couldn't have had it, the strength and beauty of the first generation.

Blood thins with every generation spent, and now it's rarer for those born with skills... and yet the border is, hateful, resentful, like the first generation when we say that we wanted to be... like the honorable blood takes for granted what we wanted and dreamed of... nagging, nagging...