Dungeon+Harem+Master

The zodiac ran up the old stairs of a slut inn that was about to fall out, momentum like a rampant horse, all at once, to a room where Russell would be.

The back left room upstairs. A wooden door popped in like a boiled dye.

It was a filthy room where the sluts of men and women condescended, wanting to turn away. Severe vomiting thrust up his throat as he looked at the old smelly, greasy door handle.

"Slow down, built-in help!

I followed the escape and kicked the door in my head. The hinges were destroyed with every screw, and the wooden frame, which was about to rot, scattered indoors in pieces. Slight lights on the lantern placed next to the bed. Information pops into the retina.

There was a figure of Russell who was just about to take his thoughts off before Lacey, who was loose all over her skin.

"What are you doing, you son of a bitch? Oh!

When the collector burned his whole body like a fireball, he turned his hair upside down with anger, and, was, he jumped up and devoured a fierce flying kick.

Meli, and.

I caught Russell's face on my toe.

It was a jump kick that was too perfect for both stepping in and jumping. When the vertically stretched right leg could be conveyed without any extra force, it crushed the man's central, nasal cartilage.

Without killing the momentum as it was, he destroyed Kido and danced to the morning sky.

Grabbed by Russell in the void. Gripped right hand. Blind law, struck out with no aim.

Face. Belly. Shoulder. chest. It's a rare hit.

The place is upstairs and the inn is built on the banks of the river. Naturally, they tried to get together and crashed straight into the river plain outside. The treasurer's anger was unparalleled and fierce.

Rubbing hard, both males repositioned up, down, left, and right, and finally, were slapped.

It is a season of low water volume. Besides, it's an extremely cold season that freezes to the bone. With the splash up, roll down the low water and grab each other.

The collector, as he managed to tap into the kick and let Russell go, rolled through the water to distance himself and pulled out the long sword on his hips at the same time as he rose.

The Holy Sword “Black Lion", whose body reflects the darkness, shines unusually bright.

The time was bad at dawn, but unfortunately cloudy with no light in sight.

In the sandy state on the other side of the distance, Russell, with a strange form of demon sword, is watching this one without alarm.

"Come on, I'll make you regret getting your hands on my woman at the bottom of hell"

Something white broke out in front of me. Sarah, it's snow. Fine-eyed it, dancing flutterly like a fairy, drinks by the stream of the river and disappears.

I'm getting water all over my body. Temperatures would be well below zero, but because of the overflowing fighting spirit, I don't feel as if I'm cold.

On the contrary, white steam rose from the whole body of the treasurer, his face lit and dyed red.

Splashing up, crossing an icy river.

When the collector arrived in Central America, Russell, who had been jittery until then, suddenly ran out.

Stay separated from each other by about three meters and walk together.

Tidal. Full of moments.

As the collector squeezed the mood of tearing out of the bottom of his belly, he broke cold air and suffered slaughter.

Leave a sharp sound and the silver wire stretches straight. Russell. I got it from the front without moving.

but it is a rigid sword.

The power of slashing and laying down many enemies in difficulty, however much the power of the Devil's Sword was borrowed, cannot be prevented by a blacksmith's brother with low basic specs.

Russell's body, which was engaged in strenuous work, was forged inside, far above the top, but differed from his first position.

Cancer. A hard noise went through the cold air.

"Whoa, whoa."

Russell tries to push his face back bright red, as he inspires himself, but it's like a kid responding with force to the sidelines. When he was miserably pushed down behind his back, he made bruises all over the place as he punched his face against a rolling stone, large and small.

I haven't had enough of a sweet life to miss this. The rear hair of the Goddess of Victory knew that it would disappear at the moment of the moment.

Without getting lost, I punched in from the top. The blade made a loud noise and targeted Russell's face in a tang bamboo crack.

Shit.

The bones were broken, blunt, heavy noises rang. Russell sacrificed his left arm to prevent the treasurer from attacking.

"Ooh, ooh...!

But the price was too great. Russell is dropped on his left arm, making him shout without a voice. A painful red flower blossomed in the universe. Vitavita and blood were sprayed with an awesome odor. White little gravel fills one side without gaps, like zero red paint. Russell's arm. From the mutilated cross section, pieces of flesh and white bones peek.

Normally I wouldn't be able to fight here.

"Mm!"

"is ahhh"

but Russell has not shown any fine dust, such as willingness to surrender, and has waved his remaining right arm.

Plenty of time. Sword strikes will not arrive. Make room, jump back and forth.

Zokri, and I remembered the illusion that the Sickle of Reaper had stretched.

Demon Sword Murasada.

The man's gripping weapon changed to an unlikely length, like a snake that brought a goofy sickle.

I felt the pain of a fire running on my belly skin.

The distance is four meters. It should have been an unreachable time.

If you notice, a blade that changed to an unusual length in front of you was dancing in wind.

- If that intuition didn't work, my torso would have been cut into rings.

"What's going on, Klando? Is my weapon that rare?

He slapped me down in the left arm. Even with the loss of a lot of blood, it should be noted that Russell did not lose his spare time and was tarnished.

(You're not feeling any pain?

"What, won't you have a chat? Then I'm going to kill you, and then I'm going to make it Lacey. Klund, your dumb death is perfect for a bedtime story!

Russell's sword strike looms with an unusual wind-cut noise. The oddly stretching and shrinking blade of the Devil's Sword made the collector, who had previously advanced the battle in an advantage, a side of the battle.

If the enemy has a long score, there is a way to fight it.

For example, if the enemy's weapon is a spear, if you manage to dive into the pattern, it is a victory for a sword that you can wield freely.

but Russell's use of the Devil's Sword Murasada was slightly different on its own. The blade changes freely and freely with one of the bearers' intentions, and even if he manages to dive into the midst of an intermission, if it is changed to a good length of handling, it will be difficult to respond immediately.

Bibi, the blade stretches freely. I couldn't handle it and wondered if I would take it or not. The white blade that popped out tore thinly around my tibia. The wound or momentum blew out well.

I poked my right hand and flew backwards. And then my right leg was severed if I was even slightly late. I have never tried to see if a once severed one can be applied by the power of the crest. My spine froze.

but I didn't even have time to think about it. Enemy attack. It releases an intermittent slash without loosening it.

Prevent. Scatter. Move your body. Keep moving.

Staying is synonymous with death. Awkward, I kept running.

"What's up, what's up! So you can protect Lacey? No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! Such an awkward move would be a great story."

"Do yourself a favor. No!

A stretching demon sword. Split up and down, slashing is released. The Founding Fathers wanted a battle here that went far beyond human reflexes. Constantly, the sound of the blade meshing with the blade rings amidst the snowy river plains. The cold and the brisk and violent winds crushed the health of the zodiac without the bottom.

Lactic acid builds up geometrically in the muscles where it hurts. Shake heavy iron bars with all your might.

Besides, if your life or your family's fate were on board, fatigue would no longer be measurable.

Without finding a way to open it, only time and life were subtracted.

I have trouble breathing. The cold paralyzes my fingertips and weariness falls on my body. The heartbeat in my chest doesn't stop ringing as loud. Kin, and the world stuck, and silenced.

Only my footsteps became clear, the sound of a meeting sword and moving on gravel.

Seeing, Russell's right half was eroded by more and more like black darkness.

Russell isn't waving his sword. The Devil's Sword is making him swing. It's even suspicious whether self is still present in a man soaked up to his throat in intense paranoia anymore.

When the Devil's Sword tries to completely turn into Russell, it will be the end of this battle.

As he continued to exhale, he continued to run around the river plains and prevent impending blades. I have trouble breathing. Electric light flashes endlessly at the center of my head, and I'm about to let go of consciousness with a little loosening of my mind.

My arms are heavy. My legs are heavy. As the stomach swallowed lead, it is heavy and restricts body movement.

Russell screamed as hard as a beast and waved the Devil's Sword. Jump up and scratch. The curved blade twists and bends and protrudes upright, as it willed in the void. The meat from the left chest to the shoulder is removed. A blood splash, dancing like rain, polluted the white snow that had fallen.

Finally, when he captured the treasurer, Russell's face deflected into an odd shape.

At that moment, the weight of the overstretched Devil's Sword could not withstand, and Russell's body, slightly loosened.

At the same time, a large water column rose from the rear of Russell. It's Loulou.

Were you immersed in water in the extreme cold that freezes to the bones for this moment?

I had enduring patience with the language.

Loulou had an awesome look on his face and no more, more beautiful throws.

Russell's expression. In a retrospective form, it was stunningly stained.

The glittering, white dagger looked like a meteor and flowed.

One, under the scapula.

One, diagonal to the right of the hips.

One, to the right ankle, was buried deep.

The scream flowed for a long time. It sounded like a fanfare, celebrating the victory in high spirits.

Russell's balance. It collapsed greatly.

Her support in overcoming the fear of water. There is no law against letting them live here.

The time has come to wage battle.

The collector waved the long sword to the demon sword Murasada with the mood of tearing.

A stretched demon sword struck the thinnest earthen belly with a blow all over it.

Pan, and.

The sound of the delicate glass crumbling away echoed.

The devil's sword was easily amputated so that the overstretched branches could be slighted by the gardener's temple.

"Keaaah!

Russell's lips unleashed a scream like nothing I'd ever heard before, just like a lunatic.

Already, had half of your body been eroded by the Devil's Sword? Russell folded the doth black starch into the letter of his body as he sprayed it.

Rushed.

I left my legs for this moment.

You no longer have to leave room. I pushed straight ahead, kicking the big and small stone pieces of me.

Grab the long sword with both arms. Russell felt the killing spirit that could be blown on him and raised his face.

He had a younger face than he thought.

I poked.

I let go of my hands poking without leaving Kakela's feelings behind.

Zun, and.

The definite feeling of wearing meat echoed on both arms. The black lion stunningly penetrated the center of Russell's body, leaving him with no body left to expose to his back, and stayed with his tuba mouth.

The response of Russell's muscles contracting strongly was passed on to his arm. Pull out the sword quickly. He popped out of a pocky, empty black cavity, placing a beat and allowing a lot of blood to overflow.

The collector fell into a state of dislocation while defiling his arms with warm blood. The man in front of him let his mouth flake open and close as he opened his eyes cuttingly, pulling the marks of an ugly yaked.

It was a hot summer day.

The lump of yellow flame that floated over his head, as if to burn everything that existed on the earth, was biased to illuminate the sky, the earth, towards everything that moves.

The boy's house was poor. The family consists of six brothers alone. Already in the house, my mother is pregnant with her next child and while lying in bed, she doesn't even try to move Pickle.

Locking up in a room on a weather day like this was like squatting in a pot.

Father hasn't returned for three more days because of the fratricidal madness known throughout the city.

In other words, there is zero benefit brought to the family. Everyone in the family was starving. Naturally, the boy is no exception. It is a linguistic hunger. I was used to not eating, but the heat over the past few days has been extreme. I don't say anything about solids. On the contrary, the family didn't even have the money to buy water.

The city was hit by a record number of dry spots.

As usual, the river covered with plenty of water is also dry enough to see the bottom. The countless rolling white stones reflected the sunlight and were oddly brilliant, the contrast of the abundant amount of water remembered made the boy's feelings extra rough.

Grabbed by the trunk of the bridge, standing unattended, the two brothers were pulling their sleeves wanting.

I'm urging you to be thirsty.

Oh, yeah. I'd be thirsty if I were alive. Naturally. In the first place, the boy didn't even realize that all his young brothers had followed him. Due to dirt and dermatitis and ocular disease that I'm not sure about, my younger brothers don't see the front well or they occasionally fell.

The boy managed to hold his younger brothers by dragging their bones and skin-like bodies. The clap broke the shirt I was wearing. My brother's body. Even though he was only two different from himself, he was as light as a dead tree, and his arms and the like were as thin as branches.

I haven't got any emotions in my brothers eyes. It was a faint darkness. Relatives of the boy live far outside the castle and are not asked for assistance because of their overlapping fathers.

In the street, most humans were inside, reluctant to be illuminated by sunlight. I'm idle. It was all because of the heat.

All over the place, rolling like a brown cloth. It was a corpse of a wild dog.

If you're a wealthy house, you buy drinking water from the occasional water sale that runs down the street, but you're afraid of looting it, or you don't see it either.

"Hey, are you thirsty?

voice. It was the voice of the girl who remained in power.

The boy saw the person by forcing his decaying body to move in the direction of his voice.

I know. She's the daughter of a neighborhood liquor store. Parents had slapped him into saying that the boy was the son of a craftsman and that people in a profession who didn't make things were stupid.

But I know.

While the boy's father is good with his mouth, he also goes to see a woman in a liquor store. Also that the mother notices the father's predisposition with cloudy eyes.

"Wait a minute."

That's what the girl says, she runs inside the tavern.

- I lost about it and came back with leather bags in my hands.

"Yes, I'll give you this"

Like a hungry wild dog, I reacted to it. Smells like water. Two younger brothers, who were dying, jumped up and leaned over, staring at the contents with a glitzy eye. It was sad. The fact that I was begged to be treated by the daughter of a house I despise, and also by myself for not walking away from the store in anticipation of it.

The Silver Carriage Pavilion is a drinker. Then there is no way, by any means, to cut off the water.

Now there were many of them, from fellow evil children, who had begged this daughter many times to divide the water.

Only I don't want to do that. I was secretly proud of you.

The poles and tears flood me.

And something as soft as a feather touched my head. Then a beautiful song came down from the sky like never heard of it.

It was a lullaby I used to hear when I was a kid. He was singing like a clear angel everywhere. I saw it in the chapel, it reminds me of religious paintings. Salvation was here. The boy felt that the black star, accumulated in his chest, was indeed cleansed.

This voice is surely more precious than anything else in the world. Believe me, I didn't doubt it.

Moving his gaze with Chira, his younger brothers, who were snatching water from each other, are also stopping their hands and listening flashly. Do you see the value of this voice? With a hot flame blowing out of the bottom of your body, your vision is squeamish.

The boy, at last, shook himself without shame or outspoken ears, screaming, whoa. Wrapped in a liberated mood and a strange sense of pride, everything becomes thinner.

Slippery hands on cheeks, accompanied. It was cold and pleasant.

"Don't cry. Hey, Russell."

Unique golden hair too. White and snowy white teeth too. Everything was divine.

The boy fell in love with Lacey.

That was the beginning of everything.

- Oh. Where the hell did I go wrong?

The collector drew out his sword, while at the same time sensing it as part of Russell's memory. I felt very bad about the aftertaste. I once had no such ability. It was somehow a born ability to fight over.

It's too vivid to call it paranoia. It was a memory of a man on a different path. I don't know when, but when life is critical, some of the memories and lives of people nearby are clear. I can swear. I don't need this kind of ability.

"Fuck off......"

A chunk of meat stretches long in front of you. Doesn't make you feel any signs of life. It was a thorough, unpleasant battle.

My life is leaking out of a man's wound that I vacated myself. I can't block it. To divert attention from this battle is the most insulting act of life exchanged Russell. It doesn't stay, swallows and bites. It was the responsibility of what prevailed.

The collector forced Russell's eye lid, which was still open to Kassel, to close.

There, the mad passion seemed nowhere, as clear as the possessions had fallen, and even somewhere asleep.

"Mr. Klund."

Loulou up from the water rushes over as a wet mouse. His complexion was white as paper, his lips discolored to dark blue purple like a dead man. Chappie and a fine water noise rang behind her. Turn your gaze. There Lacey, regained consciousness, stood with her body wrapped in sheets.

Lacey stared stunnedly at Russell, who was falling, and eventually sat down to collapse from both knees.

Then turn back to the collector in a frightened manner. Lacey. I have messy hair on my face. With an awesome look from that gap, I didn't make it slight, keeping it up-and-coming to beg. Clear tears thrive on the edge of your eyes. I could understand what I wanted, even without words.

It is Buddha if he dies no matter how sinful.

What's more, no matter what outrageous person you are, you can't erase it so easily until you've had some fun memories. The collector wasn't that narrow. I shook my head vertically silently. As he was bounced, Lacey stood up, picked up on Russell's wreckage, raised her voice and cried.

The collector was not willing to blame her. Russell's death is only the result. You knew if you took one woman's life at stake, one of them would be like this. In some circumstances, it may have been the collector who lay on the spot.

Unexpectedly, right beside the body, something like a black flame saw him rise loosely. Zoku and I ran a nasty feeling, like an ice column was stuck in my back. The collector quickly pulled Lacey away from the body and jumped heavily backwards.

The decision was right. Russell's body, when dissolved in a glance, changed like black mud, dodgingly spreading over a river plain with fine stones. It reminded me of a dirty sea sprinkled with heavy oil.

An aggressive smell like chemicals punches the nose column. As the collector wrapped Lacey inside his coat, he watched the black shadow that suddenly appeared. Black smoke was rising from the body of the Devil's Sword Murasada, which should indeed have been smashed in earlier battles.

"Step right now."

"Who...!

The black shadow, when it happened to take the shape of one man, loosened his thin lips and laughed niggly.

"Oh, my God, this tooth cavities bastard."

That was my first impression of the man of the treasurer. The man was dressed somewhere clouded, wearing black full-body tights all over his body and still coming out into the cont, inspired by bad tooth decay.

The only exposed facial area was blue so that there was no blood, no eyebrows, the pupils in the central part of the eye were cloudy and had a creepy appearance to see.

"I am the Devil's Sword Murasada. Finally, he said he could take over this man's body in a little while. After a foolish human touch gets in the way."

"Oh, you say it's the Devil's Sword Murasada?

"Yes. I am the Spirit who dwells in this Devil's Sword. into the gap of a man's soul and eat his life energy. In fact, this man, a chunk of a distorted complex, was actually easy to handle. Even in silence, it adds as much quality negative power as it can. It was my good nursery..."

"Are you saying that I will? In short, you were manipulating Russell?

"Nothing to manipulate. This was just a pushback to what this guy wanted deep down in his heart. I'm just saying it would have been more convenient for me."

"If you had to blow the crap out of your side, he wouldn't have done such a big deal."

"I have that idea, though. Most of all, at the time this man had me, it was decided to collapse. The Devil's Sword turns fatefully with a person worthy of its owner. We draw each other in pairs. Hmm. But I didn't expect the host to die here. I have not been present in this world for a long time without a host. I haven't woken up in hundreds of years. You're stupid, but you seem to have a tough body. Get started, I can get your body!

Murasada, the Spirit of the Devil's Sword, when he appeared a black tricuspid knife in his right hand, he was slashed with or without it.

"Krander."

Loulou's voice. The collector, turning Lacey on his back, calmly set up a black lion and intercepted him.

"Keyes eh"

It is a physiologically unforgivable, high voice. Murasada has stuck his gains at a tremendous rate with one hand.

As the collector bounced in front of his coat, he slashed down the black shadow head-on with the long sword in his hand.

Murasada rolled to the ground as she shouted an odd bark into her face.

The tricuspid knife, the object, rolled and blew away in the distance.

A man's body.

From his right shoulder to around his hips, he was cut off beautifully with a bushel, and a liquid resembling black mud splashed everywhere.

"What the fuck is this guy, man? Eh? Hmm."

A collector kicks a tooth cavities hips. Geez, he screamed strangely, agonized, and smothered.

"Hey, why is that? Yes, but I didn't know humans had so much strength..."

"No, you're too weak."

The collector trampled Murasada's face with a merciless sole.

Meikiri, and the feeling of the nasal cartilage crushing.

Murasada was in pain, and he swept furiously and scattered black diarrhea.

I left it to anger and kicked him in the stomach. Two, three, four degrees.

Meh, and the cloudy sound of the bones and the interior shaking sounded intermittently.

With all the todome, wave the long sword down around your chest.

Murasada glanced at both eyes, gripping disappointingly at the blade piercing her chest. Thick, unnaturally long fingers rolled to the ground.

It's like a potato bug. It spins around, then turns up black smoke and mists.

As the collector pulled out his sword with the goi, Murasada raised her voice as she gazed at the cloudy sky with even more cloudy eyes.

"I didn't know you were gonna break me. But I'm not the one who keeps quiet and disappears..."

"Knock it off."

Murasada leaned back and let the last of her limbs thrust, emitting black electric light.

"Wha!?

I didn't think you'd be in a counterattack in this situation. I can't take any evasive action. Decent, stand on the spot with black thunder. The women screamed all together.

Where the collector stood, even his coat, his clothes, and his holy sword, the Black Lion, continued to fall apart.

"Frog, Le?

Lacey snapped blushing with her hands on her mouth.

There's nowhere to look like a collector there.

Instead, a large toad (toad) with no strange philosophy whatsoever was just gently ringing in a frisky, pleasant mood.