The Branded Female Fencer

"Soon, soon... the magic that took me over 2,000 years to prepare finally activates. Now..."

Oranzeble was alone, on his knees in the workshop, checking the magic formation. In front of me is my own daughter, nestled in a crystal. In front of the countless crystals behind it, Oranzeble was squeezing out his voice to pray.

The Orange Bull has already fixed this direction many times. The party in this workshop is the starting point for it all. The deviation from the starting point eventually increases and emerges as a major influence. I don't know what the effect of a single sharpening or one extra line will be.

For this reason, the workshop in Oranzeble needed to be deserted. People couldn't have let one of the ants in. Perfect automatic interception workshop by witchcraft, with complete elimination of organisms. That is the essence of Oranzeble's workshop.

Therefore, there is no entrance, and the Orange Bull can only enter and leave this workshop with a transfer. However, the entry and exit of objects were necessary, and given the risk of metastasis and the aftermath of activation, exits were necessary to open them from the inside. Even that can be locked multiple times by magic, and only one Orangeable can open it.

Fursil also shrinks nerves when he is inside the workshop. Fusils can also move with respect to places where there are no directions, but also cannot be modified by Fusils if the directions are damaged. Once I accidentally let it damage me, I saw an orange zebul shaped as a demon trying to fix it myself. I remember that there was no blame, but on the contrary, I felt like that attitude was the one that showed my worth, and Fursil couldn't resist.

Since then, Fursil has killed his own emotions and, as the caregivers of the Orange Bull once did, has put his heart and soul only into keeping his period of activity safe. Even such fursils can't stop your eyeballs from getting hot when you see Orangeable's plan approaching achievement and facing the crystal. I don't know if that is a relief and achievement of the plan's achievements or an openness from the role.

Fursil gently leaves the workshop without any footsteps. The walls are automatically closed when you head outside from the exit, and defensive and hidden sorceries are repaired. At that point he did his own sorcery, layered on multiple layers, and finally Fersil went outside. I've carried enough food, and so far I've got nothing to do. Two hundred years after Fursil woke up, there is no such thing as intentionally brought him closer, even if the beast ever approaches the perimeter of this workshop accidentally. Yet Fersil found the role a little boring, wondering if he needed to be so cautious, but decided to try the magic again today because he was lying on Hidun's behalf.

Now that Hidun has disobeyed, it's also difficult for Oranzeble to know what's going on outside the workshop. For this reason, Fusil decided to gather information through spirits from all over the continent. If you fly the demon poorly, it is possible that this place will be identified from the demon's captivity. But if you only communicate with the Spirit through the earth, you can't detect it backwards. Fursil explores the variations across the continent through the actions and whispers of the Spirit. Naturally that was supposed to extend to the swamps, but there was something to talk about the moment Fursil started his sorcery.

"(Fursil, what are you doing?

"Wow!? What is it, Pete? Don't threaten me."

Fursil named this mixed subspecies of spirits that he happened to know Pete (although Pete narrowed them down from a few candidates) and made them his own demons of use. For the user demon, the bondage due to constraints is loose, and Pete is allowed to move relatively freely. I don't know where he is when he is invisible, but if Pete remembers how to set a trap by witchcraft, he can be tailored to the extent of an easy beast, so Fursil was using his floating time to sneak up on the development of witchcraft.

I didn't learn it from anyone, because they were asking me that the development of witchcraft would allow me to breathe if I were a high elf. Rather, it earns so much trust and respect from its peers that it develops powerful and useful sorcery. Fursil followed the instincts of the High Elves to develop magic.

Pete had a strange glance at such a fursil.

"(You've been using this magic all these days. That funny?)"

"It's a little different than it's funny, but I guess it seems convenient. Get to know the rest of the world through spirits and fairies everywhere. With this magic, you don't have to use demons. There's no trouble tying it up, and it'll save you the trouble of building a demon to use, right?

"(Am I right)"

While hammering, Petefloat was simply impressed and at the same time fearful. This fursill may have existed as a delicacy after Orangeable if the times were times. No, the high elves themselves may be such a species, but if there are a few of these, isn't the world going to be a cow ear?

While Petefloat wrapped his tongue around the abilities of the ancient reigning races, he had only thought about how to use them as he once did.

Continued