The Branded Female Fencer

"I'm taking you to the task force captain. Pick a platoon and prepare for the mission. Do you have a title?

"Yes, no. My grandfather worships the Viscount, but our generation does not worship him because he is limited to two generations."

"Then I will grant you the status of Associate Viscount under my authority. Without the aristocracy, there's some kind of face-to-face noise."

"King, what the hell is your special mission? such as giving the aristocracy so easily -"

"I didn't mean to give it easy, though. I'm expected to do this much with an election and an instinct I've seen. Are you not sure?

"None"

Mira said so clearly that Swendle also rounded his eyes on this. But before Swendle could say the next word, Mira had told him first.

"But if it's a royal life, let's accept it. Mira-Nightloo-Highlander. I accept your orders."

"Right. Then it is an order. Retrieve my youngest daughter Willania from Jaeger immediately, if you have orders. I'll leave the way to it."

"I understand. Now let's get down to selecting platoons."

Mira flipped out vertically. I heard you were still a newbie, but it's the way you walked into the hall inside. Watching those things happen to me, Swendle was totally remembering Louis.

"... oh, I remember. Will Louis and I from Blackhawk at the Unified Martial Arts Games be that sister? Running away from Romansland and being a mercenary is something I've discredited, too. No, is that what you want? Coincidence is a terrible thing to come here and have that sister elected.

You're doing exactly what I intended. "

Orloage was listening to that Swendle soliloquy, but he didn't know what it meant and was confused. On the tent, only Swendle's laughter echoed.

"Yo, rear sheds. I wonder why we're doing this?

"I don't know, SeroGrace. You can't help it because you don't get all kinds of food, can you?

"We're good. Sister, secure your share."

Three of Spears' four sisters, Rear Shed, Selow Grace and Hamnett were hunting for the remnants of the demons gathered by Milnay. They themselves have no problem with human food, but their sister, Cubez, only speaks of the flesh of the powerful. In other words, no matter how well it is cooked, such as regular livestock meat, the body does not accept it.

So even today the three sisters hunt demons. To bring back a souvenir to my sister Cuvez. When the movers were gone, SeroGrace entered.

"Oh, shit."

"Well, I'll smoke it all in one place."

"Fire, ooh. Later, Lottie."

"Shit, I'm the cook."

A rear shell that puts its hands on its hips and teaches a cello grace that grows in big letters and wastes time.

"You won't be able to help, because you cook the most decent dishes. Or do you want me to cook, Cuvez, and see where your sister pukes?

"We, the culinary vocalizer. Too bad."

"Shit, you guys can do the hauling, right?

"I'll leave that to Hamnet."

"Yeah. For travel, teach (Tame) the Warcraft of, come"

When Hamnet quickly lit the fire, it disappeared into the dark night. SeroGrace warms the frying pan as she complains, and Rear Shed goes on holiday.

SeroGrace complained about the condition.

"You look good, don't you?

"You've been having the same argument for a hundred years now, and you're not tired of it. The food is cello, the hard work is me, and the chores are hamnet. It's decided, isn't it?

"I know, but troublesome things are troublesome."

"I have sympathy for you. But I respect you inside for not being clueless."

Strange signs drifted through the woods as the rear sheds rarely tried to compliment SeroGrace. By the time the rear shead, which was sleeping alone, was awake, the abnormality had already occurred.

"Sero! Enemy!

"Ah?

"First, Y-"

When the rear sheds woke up, it was the moment when some sphere struck directly in its belly. That sphere, which looked like just an iron sphere, was spinning at super high speeds, and the rear sheds were somehow hearing the sound of their own bones and guts getting damaged without even being able to move.

"Uh-huh. Yeah... ooh!

"Rear Shed!"

SeroGrace defended something suddenly thrown in a frying pan as he tried to go help the rear sheds. There were two iron balls and a hamnet that was twisted and fixed with a needle and thread to the extremities, hitting it directly. I can hear the hamnet burning in a hot frying pan.

"Whoa, whoa, hamnet! Damn it!"

SeroGrace took out two swords when he threw down a frying pan that could be both a shield and a slaughter weapon.

But the moment I took out the sword and set it up, a flutter of cloth appeared around me.

"Ah?

As soon as SeroGrace noticed, they rapidly tightened up. SeroGrace was snapped up to the top of the Dark Forest without a voice.

And Selow Grace, who hung for a while, was unloaded downstairs dressed in flames.

"Gu... uuuu... sero... hamnet"

The iron ball that hit the rear sheds belly was still spinning, unable to move. That's not all, its iron sphere, which at some point hit the elbow and knee precisely, carefully inhibited the rear sheds from regenerating and making them physically immobile.

The rotation of the iron sphere was gradually decreasing, but it could also take nearly four and a half minutes for it to stop completely. In the meantime, the immobile cello grace and hamnet remain burnt. How immortal and how painful it is to be burned alive.

A rear shead, full of killing intent on those who did this, but immobile, was suddenly kicked over.

Continued