The Branded Female Fencer

"Lord - did you know that much?

"It was a coincidence, but I still have someone to give me information. Among the enemies, there was information that apparently there was a legendary hero king. At first, I smiled, but if it's true, things come from scratch. I'll take care of it myself."

"That's very quick and helpful."

"That's what I learned from you. Before I was summoned, I inferred the requirements, and I couldn't work with you unless I worked out measures."

Eltrado replied as a dust. Miriazal also accidentally breaks up with each other.

"After all, your Lord is an unparalleled cutter in the last 400 years. I thought Minar would be better prepared."

"This again. It's a long life to be praised this year."

"Then are there any measures against the others?

"I can't help it because I don't have accurate information. I can lend you my knowledge, if you like."

"Please."

Miriazal and Eltrado decided to leave the room and enter into their own work after several subsequent meetings. Miriazal proposed to have an office in the Deep Green Palace, but Eltrado refused to do so. Because I explained that it would be very difficult to go out to this Deep Green Palace again and again for my errands, given my own physical condition. If not too much work was done, the people in the private residence would have enough hands.

Neither did Miriazal leave too hard against Eltrad, but he seemed worried. Eltrado smiled and left the scene to not worry when he saw Miriazal like that. But when he had left the Deep Green Palace, and was alone in his private chamber, the edge of his mouth was strongly bound.

"Hmm, it's tough to still work this year... but it's from here. Don't be my sanctuary from here. Virgin Arnelia, may you guide me?"

In his private room, Eltrado offered one prayer, as he had once done when he was Archbishop.

Spaces wrapped in tranquility. Bugs One quiet room that doesn't even squeal is finally lit with a hint of light to the extent that it illuminates the wall. The room doesn't even have a bookshelf or a desk to eat. That was a space that people probably didn't think they lived in.

If there was just one proof that people lived there, it would be a letter that would fill one side of the wall surprisingly. The letters, large and small, that would have been written and beaten as much as they could think of, are lined up indefinitely. There was a person at his fingertips deciphering every one of them with magic of light lit by sorcery.

It is aurangeable.

"Is this... 420 years old? Then this wall is of the same period... no, is this a statement 1,500 years old? Hmm, then what was the earlier statement... oh, well"

Orangeable to snort and think about each and every description of the wall. This is Oranzeble's workshop, the description of the wall is his 2,000-year-old transcript. He remembers roughly every one of them, but once again he confirms every one of them through his eyes.

This kind of work is also done because the plan of the Orange Bull is in big trouble. For Oranzeble, the black magicians were not companions, but pawns to fulfill his purpose. There is not one person, for example, who trusts in the true sense of the word, and therefore not one person, for example, who knows the true purpose of his plan.

Even Hidun, the first to draw on his companions, does not know the ultimate purpose of Oranzebul's plan. However, Hidun was only cooperating with the purpose of the Orange because of his paranoia. The others are only together for their own ends because of the spiritual bondage of Oranzebul, or even if not. Orangeables spent more than a millennium working out this plan by themselves and, if necessary, gathered his people to carry it out.

"Hmm. You don't seem to have any problems with the startup ceremony. I wondered if it was impossible because of the faster progress of the plan, but this would be problematic. There is no final guarantee around here if you go out there and check, there seems to be no problem with the setup. I'll make a final confirmation and we'll have no problem activating the plan as planned."

Oranzeble, speaking to himself satisfactorily, turned his steps toward another room. Once again, there was one simple desk in the room where the fruit was on top. That is where the Orange Bull positioned itself as the rest room. He controls his metabolism with witchcraft, becoming a body that requires little sleep or diet, but still doesn't take it at all. You need to eat once every few days, and more than that, you need someone to protect you in your sleep.

The use of ceremonial beasts and subpoenas was also considered by Oranzebul, but Oranzebul drew another conclusion. That 's--

Continued