Master’s Smile

"... ugh!! kill him, quick!!

Muratov yells so.

There is no doubt that a demon king's men with exceptional abilities like Sorgross would be disadvantaged if they gathered here any more.

Fighting for angelism, and dying, is not horrible.

But it is unacceptable to die without taking pagans on the road in front of you.

Even though the men who come after defeating the Demon King here will kill them, they will be rewarded if they kill the chief of the Master-directed heathen.

With that in mind, the heretic inquisitors move out.

"Hahhhhh!

One heretical interrogator pulls out his sword and cuts into a master smiling calmly.

The heretic inquisitor was a girl who had not yet grown up.

But that faith heart is real. This reckless assault will kill me.

Nothing, I don't think this attack will bring down the Demon King (Master).

But if you prevent an attack, a gap will be created.

He put his life at risk by entrusting it to another heretic inquisitor.

"Oh, no? I wish I could point something so noisy at my master."

"but...... ugh!?

But such assaults of the girl's death never reached the master.

An interrupting anato slapped his fist into her nose.

With such a strong force that she does not think of herself as a Sister, the girl is rolled all the way to the corner of the room at once.

The girl looks right up at her companion who was supposed to follow herself, even as she squirts her stuffy nosebleed at the pain of being punched in the nose, which is a steep point.

My failure means I couldn't even create a gap.

This would mean that the fellow jumped into the pocket of the Demon King in perfect condition.

"... that?

I looked up worried, but the Demon King was smiling at me without looking like a companion.

In addition to having nosebleeds, he opens his mouth pompously, which gives him a much more nuanced look.

Turning his gaze around to see where he was, his buddies weren't moving at all from their first position.

"Do what - -!?"

The girl noticed, trying to absurd her anger's less vocal.

"Ho ho..."

To have a single sword growing from the breasts of my fellow men.

The sword protruding from his chest was snugly wet with the blood of a heretic inquisitor.

He sees a sword growing out of his chest saying he can't believe it and spits a chunk of blood out of his mouth.

"Totally… what is it about rambling in a meeting place and pointing a sword at your husband (master)"

It was Schwart, a dark elf in maid clothes who guided them, who was poking his sword into the chest of the heretic inquisitor.

What she has is the Devil's Sword, Hasselblad. It is a dangerous demon sword that sucks away the magic of those who cut it.

But without having to use that ability, the heart-pierced heretic inquisitor scattered his life.

Chevalt kicked the body annoyingly as he pulled his sword out of his chest.

"Become... Become...!? Meh, my maid......!?

"So I told you, Anato. Such talks, he said, would be futile. Didn't you just jeopardize the master"

"Don't say that. This is a necessary process."

Muratov, where all the heretical interrogators of the escort he relied on, were lightly beaten and wolfed.

Ignore him like that, and blame Anato for Chevalt.

I didn't care that Anato would be in danger, but I wasn't convinced that he put the essential master at risk for her.

Even if I waited in front of the door before the talks started.

"And no, it would be nice to spread mastery for the master ~?"

"I'm the only slave who works like a master's hands and feet is enough.... Well, I don't disagree with making you worship the Master"

It is the master who says the opposite in small measure.

The Demon King's Army, which ignores Muratov and makes noise with Wye... rather than the 'Army of Salvation (Yerkchillah)'.

I guess he's no longer even seen as an enemy, such as him.

"... fool!!

Muratov saw it as a good opportunity.

Is that to escape? No, to kill the Demon King.

Now that we have escaped, it is such an absurd story to grasp the clouds, such as to safely reach Pope Zelnike.

Then a meaningful death so that angels can bless you!

Muratov takes the whip out of his nose.

It is made from Wyburn scales and comes with thorns to inflict hardness and pain that are not easily broken.

"Fuck you, Demon King!!!!

Muratov manipulated it with such a brilliant gesture that he didn't think he was an amateur that he let his master whip him.

He is not just an angelic.

Until a few decades ago he was a former heretical inquisitor active on the front line.

Muratov's swinging whip has been in use since then.

Until now, I have struck and tortured many heathen bodies with this.

Some died in the process.

So powerful is this whip.

I look at the face of the master, who is completely alarmed and bickering, and I get a sharp whip as I cleave the air.

Muratov was convinced of a direct hit on the master, but the next moment the whip was tangled away.

"Oh, it's dangerous."

Anato's laid-back voice stretches.

By the weapon she possesses, the whip is completely prevented.

Muratov unexpectedly stops his body when a weapon comes out that the seemingly chaste-sook Sister is unlikely to hold.

Anato's weapon was a sharp thorn attached with the idea of hurting his opponent on a black iron stick...... it was a gold crushed stick.

Muratov's whip was tangled up in it.

"Damn!!

Muratov pulls the whip as far as his power is concerned, but he is not even so freaked out as to wonder where Nico and smiling Anato have such power.

Conversely, when Anato pulled the gold crushing rod with gnarly strength, Muratov, who also had blanks, was sadly pulled to her present day.

"Geez!?

And like the girl earlier, she gets fisted in the face and blown away.

To its shock and pain, Muratov accidentally releases his hand from the whip.

"Something that tries to do harm to the master. Ah, let's do this."

Anato smiled and pulled the whip off with his bare hands.

It will no longer be possible to wield it as a weapon.

"Wow... you are so stupid you can't beat Lord Reese"

"You're the same gorilla woman as Van Peel."

"I hear you, don't I?

Sorgross and Chevalt talk to each other in the master's ears.

There was a blue muscle floating around Anato's forehead, but she seemed to have decided to deal with Muratov first than those two.

And she slowly walked out toward Muratov.