Sanzen no Souru Supina

"From the rules of thumb so far, that means tends to be proportional to the strength of a woman's sweetness," was taught an accompanying old nigger, and Illis was badly embarrassed.

Because I don't know if that's true or not, but I'm still haunted by nausea so bad that I think it's the end of the world.

My taste and sense of smell changed and I became sensitive when I did it to the smell.

The aroma of baked bread that I love, I can't do it anymore.

Just imagine, I have something to sneak up on.

Nor should it be simmered with beer or wine.

I naturally can't drink wine, but it's totally out just smelling nearby.

Eat the bread after the day of soaking it in milk that only warmed the soot and shook salt and pepper.

Olive oil, then warm vegetables are fine.

Still can't eat the quantity.

But more importantly, what I can't stand is not seeing Ashley and Zion.

When I look at Ashley's face, the connection gets worse.

Is your body unconsciously sweet?

I want you to worry about me.

He wants me to hug him and spoil him.

Iris can only be so ashamed of his own sexual roots like that.

How shallow. How indolent.

So I refused to see him.

Write to me instead.

One or two replies from Ashle arrive a day.

That distracts the loneliness.

What was surprising was that Ashley's inability to see Zion anyway felt just as hard.

The Princess of the Night Devil, Theon and Iris, direct daughters of True Ancestors, who are also the top species, have rapidly deepened their friendship in the last two months.

As a friend, and also as the same man - the woman who loved Ashley.

The twinkling and devotional love toward Ashle of Zion is hidden in its grim fortress of will, usually only from the outside, but Iris knows its strength, its depth.

A mundane woman would go crazy for jealousy and hatred if she found out that her beloved man loved another woman at the same time.

But for some reason, Iris can't have that kind of emotion about Zion at all.

The more you know that Zion deeply loves Ashley, the more you know what it's like to think of Ashley's Zion again.

My love is springing.

And that seems to be the case with Scion.

Theon, who confessed that there were few friends he could break down and talk to, which were also women's, opened his chest collar (today's kings) and embraced Illis.

If we're limited to conversations, more than a few times as much time and content as we talk to Ashley, and from the encounter, Iris has shared it with Zion for almost two months.

Hostile species of humanity, no, Theon, princess of the Night Devil, who is even seen as an enemy, cannot publicly relate to Ashle.

Because it jeopardizes Ashley's position.

Theon himself told Iris - that I was on the shadow side.

That's why he's entrusting me with the "side of the light," Iris understood.

We are a community of destiny, and Ilis also shook Zion's hand back, asking him to shake his hand.

And yet I don't even see that Scion.

I can't wait to see that, it's hard.

It was because of Scion's body odor. Because of the fragrance of that clean rose.

It even feels like a beautiful wine when you sniff deep, which induces the symptoms of Ilis.

Not perfume, but incense emanating from the inside of the body. I can't deceive you.

I can feel the smell of Ashley overlapping there these days, so good.

Instead, Isma will be the one to talk to.

Iris liked the king of earthspiders disguised as this thinness, next to Ashley.

If it wasn't Ashley that the two women - Alma and Eunice - predecessors of Ilis, a fusion of spirit, thought so much so that Ilis himself thought he must have fallen in love with this Isma.

"Look, I peeled the apple."

Then it's already a brilliant handkerchief, finishing peeling the apple and offering it to Illis by cutting it into amazingly snaggy pieces.

Apples are one of the few foods that the stomach of England can accept right now.

Still, it was Isma's realization that she deliberately peeled off her perfumed skin.

"Wow, the snails are all there. Isma, you can go to your daughter-in-law anywhere."

"Well, I'm over eight hundred years old, but I don't know if it's a good idea."

It is obvious that Isma, who makes twists and turns, is trying to distract us from the loneliness of Illis, who increasingly likes this strange man.

Haha, and I laugh in my voice.

"Is that a little better?

"Now. Because Isma's here for me."

"Don't fall in love, young lady. You have a man in your heart."

"You may lose your loneliness,"

I've also figured out the time between responding to jokes with Isma.

Isma's subordinate care is its bottomless and gentle revelation of mind.

He's covering for me by me going down there.

"My secret is a secrecy."

"It's the kind of attitude you find out, isn't it, Isma?"

The two laughed at each other in a conversation that had no other love.

Eat one apple at a time.

"So, blah, what do you say?

It was then that Isma cut it out gently.

Choose a tone that is as light and unaffordable as possible.

"Honestly, it's pretty tight. My body feels like my whole body is swamped. I feel like a sailboat flirting in a storm."

To Isma like that, so Illis spills the truth that no one can tell.

Iris exposed Isma to all of his own past.

The two women, Iris, a fusion of the spirit of Alma and Eunice, have no memory of the past.

Instead, every night, it becomes a nightmare/horny dream and its memories flirt with Illis.

Namely, the diaspora: the memory of Alma, who was Ignache's fallen princess, and Eunice, Ashle's squire and lover, both sides.

In his childhood, Alma's memory of being burned royal palaces by revolution and continuing to be a comfort to men taught England the shameful origin of his own flesh.

Igris, who knew nothing, was quickly assembled in confusion and was tutored by past memories to obey.

The memory of Eunice, born into the family of deacons serving prestigious aristocracy, taught the irrationality of this world, which is not even free to fall in love.

The past was all too familiar (mundane) to the heart of Ilis for the irrationality that could not be reached by thought or thought.

The thoughts of the two unhappy women eventually aggregate into one man.

Ashledau - to a man named Ashley.

Alma, who became a nigh monk of Ixism, tried to force his favor to hold him down, and Eunice devoted his whole life to Ashle, who became a holy knight, so that he could dedicate his purity.

But manipulated by a strange fate, at the bottom of dark despair, Alma and Eunice lead to the light of hope: fusion.

For a love for Ashley that cannot be falsified.

And to save Ashley, who was violently invaded and dying, he pours his own "Nerd" into Ashley with a pair of mighty "Nerd" convergers: "Paragram" and "Dextras".

As a mighty ruler, as master of Alma and Eunice, he wanted the reign of Ashley as king.

And as a testament to this, he sought to realize the arrival of a “Savior” who could transform the World by becoming his mother.

I pressed the "Nerd" against Ashley.

Fighting the irresistible shame and guilt, and the overwhelming bodily stiffness, Iris exposed all of it to Isma along with a host of sketches he drew for the organization of his mind.

When she was held quietly and softly, Iris raised her voice and cried.

"This is the punishment, right?"

Firstly, Isma clearly pointed out the danger of endangering the mother.

Iris was also fully aware of the steps that could be taken to avoid it, and that prescriptions and drugs for it were the domain of earthspiders.

Because most of the time, the designs of earthspiders were incorporated into the “replacement child" of Ogami, the curse that keeps the family lineage alive, and the role of demons and witches dealing with them.

But the words that Isma continued to say after that were the opposite of what Iris expected.

"What do you want?"

I was questioned about my "will". Take precedence over cause and effect and history.

"- I want to see you. And I want to show you this world,"

So the words came out clearly. I cried later.

"Yes."

Isma's reply did not sound like that.

It doesn't offer a solution, it doesn't formulate anything special.

However, there was only a real sense that they had received the Will properly.

Isma said this with an attitude.

"I can't replace you," he said. He just said he wouldn't "deny" Iris.

I thought it was enough. Illis did what he deserved when he was cursed.

Yet Izma did not.

On the contrary, he is replaced by Ashle and Zion, who show his face three times a day.

He comes to tell me stories about which there is no other love.

I feel it and my tear glands are going to loosen up again.

It was then that this one, and a modest knock sounded.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes."

A thick wooden door opened after a while to Isma's energetic weather voice.

It was the man with the giant body, Norman, who literally screwed his body.

A set of boys and girls are at its feet.

Norman's arms contain the mighty Focus: Arman.

But the mighty destructive Arman was a substitute that should have been strictly sealed and controlled by the Archbishop of Catel Island: Dashkamarier.

The inconvenience is being replaced by boys and girls who will take care of him.

But today, it was already there as Norman's arm.

Iris, who wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, also admitted the shadow that followed.

She stood up beautifully.

It looked like Illis had a sharpened "will" rising from the back of his monk's coat.

Even though it is obvious that she is a gentle woman, the impression she receives is as harsh as that of a warrior of war.

A viscous silver mask armored her to the top of her head.

That looks more like a crown or a standing monument than a mask.

Lightly pigmented silver purple eyes looked at Iris.

Who else, the High Priesthood of Katel Island: Dashkamarie Yajas, was that human.

"Yikes," to Isma's guts, who casually raises his hand to his archbishop, does not know whether to admire him or not.

"Good afternoon, I just wanted to say, you seem a lot giddy."

He raised his hand lightly to Isma, and Dashkamarier came to the side of Illis.

The tone is stiff, but it conveys that you are leading me through the body of Illis.

The smell of Dashka's boiling water reassures Iris.

Isma showered an inexplicable gaze at the flesh of that Dashkamarier.

"Still, good milk, good ass - crap"

"Hmm?"

At some point, Norman shot down Isma, who was about to turn around behind Dashka pretending to give way to a chair and engage in harassment.

It was alien. Output narrowed "Scoud Overbearing".

Loss of physical freedom, as if scolded in the name of "reprimand" if fully effective.

That hit Isma's forehead.

"Hot."

"What's up?

"No, it looks like there was a pest. It was a mistake."

Norman said softly, Izma held her forehead, and Dashka smiled as she realized everything about the way it was going.

"It doesn't look like a flower to pests?

"It would be the gardener's job to take care of it."

In Norman's answer, the grin that was floating on Dashka's red lips becomes glossy.

"Hey, that doesn't hurt!!

"Sorry, I mistook you for a pest"

"What?"

Perhaps, ignoring the interaction between Isma and Norman, which is a good combination, Dashka put on the chair and took Iris' hand.

Check the pulse.

"Tough?

With a gaze that sees everything through him, Iris answered with an outstretched spine, though he felt a shrinking heart.

"Yeah, but it's up to me."

Dashkamarier doesn't know about Illis' past. You shouldn't know.

Only Ashley, Theon and Izma showed that sketch.

But I had no idea, in fact, how far this archbishop, who carried the miracle of the prophetic prophecy upon himself, knew about Illis.

"I'm prepared for that, but there's only a few things in the world that can be overcome by the power of the Will alone."

Not even a dust, Dashka said.

Rather than being ruthless, the weight gained only by humans who had embraced that reality was in the language.

"In fact, Iris, you're quite a drain. Isn't that right, King of earthspiders?

Isma, who continued her barren argument with Norman, solidified for a moment and looked back.

"Right. I'll admit it. I'm aware that my mother could end up in a crisis any day."

Hmm, Dashka said looking seriously at Isma.

"The view is right. I conclude the same. Why not treat it?

'Cause they're different specialties.

I see, Dashka nodded. It is an attitude that has noticed everyone present on this occasion.

Then turning to Illis, I said seriously.

"Iris, once again, I want to confirm your" will ". Do you really want to send that belly child out into the world?

"Of course."

Ilis responded instantly.

"Let me help you with that."

But I was just as surprised by the offer, as was Illis.

Dashka doesn't know exactly how it happened. I don't know.

And yet, because I didn't know why you offered to cooperate.

"Why?"

"Until I became archbishop, I was a knight at Catel Hospital, right? You'll soon find out that a child who lives in your womb is not just that. Check through the Spindle and you'll find out more."

I continued after a beat.

"This child is the child of destiny." - Isn't he?

With Iris' hand in his hand, Dashka said.

It was Dashka who received the silver mask that seemed to Illis like the Virgin.

There was a brief silence. Then, Kokori, and Ilis nodded.

"I want to help you. With the child in your womb."

Starting tomorrow night, Dashka asked me to take care of you.

"Please, trust me."

Iris also shakes back Dashka's hand, which he says sincerely.

"Later, the fact that my husband has a sweet temperament to do with it... is a pretty eyebrow talk, huh?

Gently, says Dashkamarier.

"I feel like the more ancient ginseng people put it that way, in particular - if you make me say it, it just seems like it's fuelling the loneliness of pregnant women"

So you just have to rely on what you can rely on.

There are laws that stipulate that you must be alone in the face of misery.

To Dashkamarier, who said so and smiled, Iris returned with all his strength to the hand he shook.

Isma sent her gaze to Norman, who refrained behind it, but the faithful catel knight kept watching the two women trying to form a relationship of trust, with that iron skin.