Dungeon+Harem+Master

There is no difference between being in a sea of fire. There's so much hot air blowing in my eyes that I can't keep them open.

It was just hell.

The poor flowers, blooming in the wilderness, were licked up and screaming by the flames of the Red Lotus.

The torn clutter of raw trees continues uninterrupted, with gray cloudy smoke flowing westward.

A thousand years old, Ent's giant was dancing bright red, blowing up the ashes in black.

Marika was stiffening her bright white face when she poked Petan and her ass on the spot.

He stared at the collector's face with incredible eyes.

It was a forest as it was nature without fire. For a moment only, a black shadow appeared in his head, but he dared to twist it down and not think.

But it was impossible to look away from what had happened in real life, without having to say a hunch.

Marika, who was relieved, when she found shade in the distance, ran like she had been bounced. The collector also silently followed her. The grey smoke can already stand in, and I can't see an inch ahead.

Long ears sticking out of Marika's silver hair are loose in small pieces. It was her habit when she captured suspicious noises. How could it have saved Marika's excellent hearing and intuition already? I'm sure he'll be saved this time too. I knew it, and I was afraid of myself somehow being able to read beyond it. The grey smoke cleared ahead, and I found a little shadow.

The shadow was leaking a low laugh as it stood on the small, exuberant dirt. He was an amazing and gloomy voice that echoed from the bottom of the earth. Full of unbridled welcoming. It was a faint, deafening sound. The Lord of the Voice continued to laugh even like crazy as he melted or appeared in the grey mist flowing from the west.

"Oh, my God, Crand. Finally, you caught up."

Guerta smiled with a frightening look on her face and turned around.

She slowly approaches with the firewood in her hand.

The reality that the collector had half imagined had been poked at before.

That's right, this guy's gonna stick.

Guerta's unusual appearance leaves no dust on her face when she first met her.

It was such an intense transformation in the heart of the collector that he even remembered his anger through grief.

Gerta comes closer with a burnt brown, dirty hand axe in one hand. Nature like a mother dog protecting her puppy, Marika broke in with a cane set up to block it. The disappearance of the collector from sight caused the first human-like positive change in Guerta's expression.

It was hard to tell if you were grieving or welcoming, snobbery that shook your fears.

"You make Ent so......! Why!?"

Marika tried her best to push and kill the fierce and ask. Gerta's lips were ironically distorted.

"Oh, I don't know why you ask that, this elf. You're a funny elf. Me and George turned into useless Krands and exorcised the great monsters that lived in the woods. I don't know how I can blame everyone for anything they say."

"Are you saying Ent was crazy too!?

"I don't care if it was crazy, not crazy. If there's a fact that George and I took out a bad witch's hand, that's all. Hey, George."

Gerta, laughing with a relaxed face, turned her arms to the object she had placed on her side.

As the smoke flows around, a blackish object becomes exposed.

Marika held her mouth, half-step back.

The treasurer raised his throat like a crushed voice.

"George. I did it. Really, we did it. Now the villagers won't fool around with you half the time. Now, I can be. I can be with you. I'm sorry, Mr. Klander. So you're done."

How many monsters attacked me on my way here, the head of the thing that was George (...) was scratched hard with sharp nails and fangs. Half-headed hair fell out and a part of the cerebral cord was peeking through a rip in the dripping skin. The spilled blood tide is perfectly stiffening George's chest with a perfect wet. It was evidence that considerable time had elapsed since his death.

Gerta didn't mind her face getting dirty with stiff blood, and she was rubbing her face against the body.

It's crazy without some gaps. I don't need to double-check either, but the keeper was just a free tool for Guerta from start to finish. I don't know how far I can put a letter on madman's bullshit, but in the end, for her, the possessor would have been just an adventurer passing through the village in question.

Neither did she leave for her beloved George when she entered a dangerous forest calling herself searching for the whereabouts of her treasurer. If so, I can also be convinced of how to sell all that blatant flair.

"Hey, Mr. Klando. We've exorcised the evil creatures of the forest. You don't want to go back to the village and lay hands on me, do you? I'd be in trouble if they did. Wow, I'm in trouble. That's why I want you to die here now. You'll do me a favor. Hey, Mr. Klander."

Guerta has thrown her hand axe unwrought at the same time as she finishes talking about crazy logic.

A hand axe flying in half a circle takes a deep decision on his left shoulder.

Severe pain and surprise delayed evasive action.

The collector was easily ambushed by a little girl.

I had the illusion that I had become a helpless woman.

Gerta's exhalation was so bloody nauseating. The exfoliated teeth shine like white and snow. The red and black blood dripping from the canine teeth was disastrous.

Her eyes are stained with madness and shimmering. The mindset was ridiculous with the woman's skinny arm, but her arm strength as a horse rider was incredibly strong. I just think I'm getting moro evil from a resurrected evil god.

The collector was confident only of his arm strength.

Combined with a human of the same back length and weight, I don't expect to lose first. The flesh forged in the manual labor of the part-time is quite musculoskeletal.

Now, in college, I had screwed over a national candidate for wrestling.

However, her weight and pressure were beyond the reach of the people. The force in the thin finger applied to the throat ring was hydraulic and it was unlikely that it could be removed. An impatient expression, but Guerta is Guerta. Her gentleness, which remains in the back of the zodiac's brain, was not easily erased. Put your left hand on a solo and sword pattern. The God-like expression in front of me turned into something remarkably soothing and likely to cry.

Nannozo, chanting in my heart.

At that moment, my heart hesitated.

Would have sensed that, Gerta grinned terribly and caught her mouth.

The dull sound of bone crushing rang sharply. At the end of his gaze, Marika lifted as many rocks as the baby's head, and the motion of swinging it down toward the back of Guerta's head again looked like a comma feed.

Marika is screaming and slamming hard at the rock she holds with both hands.

It's an unparalleled move, like a rock grinder. Whenever the tip of the rock was pulled out, it was all over the mucus cerebral marrow and pulled a thread close to brown.

On the collector's face, a raw, warm Guerta blood tide dodged down. You can hear the sound of tapping a wet rag against the wall at a distance and uninterrupted. Whenever a white, thin arm moves like a wheel, the back of Guerta melts like a boiled potato. The possessor's brain, which witnessed the process of collapse, automatically switched off the switch of reason. Otherwise I can't stand it. It was an unavoidable, overly brutal place to work. Something sour comes up in my throat. I drank everything down with the power of my will. Try to jump into your chest. Things that were Guerta fall in. Some of the thousand-cut brains creep up at the fingertips held reflexively.

That was already, adorability was just a crumbling piece of meat with no fine dust.

I have rotten mud.

The uncomfortable mood and pity mixed in my chest, but my physiological discomfort subsided.

It's over now.

Throw out a wreck that weighs like a doll and wake up your torso.

Marika and I caught sight of each other.

"No, because. Because if you don't, you..."

Marika squashed with her vain eyes, exhaling in a rough breath. There seems to be smoke coming out of the treasurer's chest.

"Okay, Marika. So."

'Cause if you don't do this, you will.'

"Okay, 'cause I got it. I don't blame you, Marika."

"It's this woman's fault! This woman, this woman!!

"So forget it. That's enough."

Marika's decision had gone too far, but she didn't feel like blaming it. When the collector put his finger on his sword, he was actively starting to move to harm Guerta. It is all an act that should protect one's life. There was an unconscious infusion of grief that the collector himself could not chew on, and an unproductive anger. Marika just shaped it. I wasn't willing to blame you.

"You're not so bad. Because you tried to help me."

That's how I hug Marika. She shook her whole body violently, as she threw herself into the chest of the treasurer. There doesn't seem to be much time to wait for her upset to subside either. The evil monsters were approaching with the smell of killing intent and blood that could stand in them.

What popped out of the grey smoke was a black-black beast walking on four legs.

The epidermis is hairless and smoothly blackened. A shark like a pig appeared slightly larger.

Notably, it is one eye that almost occupies the center of the face.

Called the Monocular Beast, this monster was Scavenger, a corrosive predator living in the deepest depths of the forest.

The original nature was quiet, but remarkably ferocious in the wake of the waves of evil gods.

They do little hunting, so their fangs were degenerative, but they were excellent at finding leftovers of other carnivores.

He also had the ability to dissolve and nourish it with its powerful gastric juice, even from something completely corrupt.

Take a distance as you hug Marika, who has suddenly turned into a self-loss.

The five-eyed monocular beast approaches with a zillion as he digs back through the soil with a forefoot shark. One eye that ran blood uniformly watched was the remains of George and Gerta. Little corrupt they would be a treat for them to dress up in.

As a collector, I wanted to bury them if time allowed, but I can no longer afford such a respite. Pull out the long sword while covering your right leg. Expecting a cleavage on a blade hardened by blood fat is also an impossible consultation. I wanted to avoid fighting if I should be able to.

One monocular beast attacked me whether I found a winning chance on Jirijiri and the retreating collector.

Pah, the dirt dances and the black chunks jump.

As the collector tossed Malika aside, he poked his right knee and protruded his long sword upwards.

The blade is sucked into one eye of the monocular beast as it flows.

Blood tide splashed with rusty barking.

He destroyed the monocular beast's eyeball until the middle of it.

The response felt like crushing hardened jelly. Quickly pulling out the blade, the beast doggedly flipped to the ground, and when he splashed his limbs, he threw up blood reflexes in his pocket and stopped moving. The beasts, who witnessed the death of their companions, did not flee, grudgingly glowing their eyes, which dwelt in the colour of fright.

So, I guess there's an untrained treat in front of you. As the collector held Marika up again with his sword in his arms and retreated, he gradually approached the leftover treat and eventually began to devour simultaneously whether the limits of patience had come.

The collector follows the scene without looking back. What remained was a hellish sight competing for intestines and pulling them into pieces, fitting thin, white arms.

There was no longer any place left to live in peace. Marika was stunned by the loss of Ent and the shock of Gerta in her hands. I can't go back or move on.

The collector was looking for a place to rest, mindful of Marika walking with her hands drawn like a child. Instead of food, I haven't even spoken of water for quite some time. Physical fatigue causes your qi to shrivel at the same time. It was a shame they found the creek. I could see the little fish swimming comfortably if I looked at the river. This place isn't contaminated yet. When I shrugged the water and wet my throat, I felt comfortable. Encourage Marika to drink water, but she looks far away without being slight. The impressive red eyes are dull. I didn't feel as if I was angry.

"Marika, it's water. I have to drink. I have a body. Holla."

When the collector stuck his face in the water and included it in his mouth, he gave him a drink of water by mouth transfer. She mechanically swallows water as it is transferred. What happened to my body? I was looking for moisture.

"Yeah, I guess it's still there."

As the collector wanders through the leather bag on his hips, he takes out the dried meat and dried fruit and slowly begins to chew it in his mouth. It's not the same as putting something in your belly. Offering food towards Marika but showed no reaction. When dried beans and meat were well chewed and shattered, this was also given to Marika by mouth transfer. She drinks them up without rejecting them. Her thin pink lips are glowing with saliva. It looked horribly slutty.

As it was, I sat back by the creek and waited for the passage of time. Looking up at the sky, it rapidly stains dull. Sitocito and light rain came out.

Marika is not in a mental state where she can use magic very much. Take her hand and walk for no purpose. We're not sure where we are because we ran around unscrupulously. The forest was so vast by then.

Find a giant tree sinus and slide in. It wasn't damp inside, it was limp. It's a so-so safe haven to hide from the outside enemy. The inlet was stacked with multiple layers of branches and chopped leaves on top to form a simple filter. I can lay my body diagonally like a sleeping chair. The collector hugged the child as her parents peed as she put Marika over her belly. Marika eventually began to take a nap with her face nodded to the chest of the treasurer. The wound pain and muscle fatigue caused my whole body to ache giggly. Keep your eyes closed and minimum concentration will not interrupt. The body is relaxed, but part of the brain is covered. If you notice, the brightness of the table is cloudy. It's night again. Mozomozo and Marika are moving on the chest. I felt my gaze fit in the dark.

"... Hey, here. Where is it?"

"It's a proper wooden sinus. I don't know where."

It was an exploratory tone, but I was relieved that Marika was definitely regaining her sanity.

"Sorry, dude."

"What are you apologizing for?"

"Because I, about her..."

"I'm done with Guerta. I can't help but regret that. It sounds cruel, but I'm glad I didn't die. Besides, if I was gonna do it, I had to do something. I pushed something terrible. I'm sorry, that's all."

"I killed people. But that's not the first time..."

"Right. Nothing. I've had a lot of people in my hands so far. This is the world. We have to split up the spa, we can't live."

"If we don't cut it off, we can't live"

Marika thinks jizzily in the dark. Moving on, pulling, it was she who had the power to make decisions. The collector waited even for words as he stroked Marika's silver hair. I guess the magic power is pretty much restored. In the dark, her bright red eyes glowed red.

"Metastasis can only be done once or so. But once you get back, take the time."

"You won't be able to afford that. Next thing you know, it could be me, or..."

The fluctuations of the Evil God are increasing in intensity every day. The concern of world ruin is no longer a pictorial matter.

In the first place, in a world contaminated with such cloudy air, no one would lose sight of the hope of living.

"There's no time left for us. Wouldn't you?"

"Then give me your life. 'Cause I'm sure I'll seal up the evil gods."

It flew to the vicinity of a camp that was assaulted by Evil Ent in the magic of Space Distortion "Room".

From there until the sealed dungeon of the Evil God, it was at the end of his eyes and nose. The map I received was interrupted there. If you ask, it seems Marika's mother didn't dare to remember beyond.

"The dungeon, up to the second basement floor. Be careful."

The entrance was cleverly simulated into the boulder. Marika put her hand on some of the engraved rocks of the twisted literature and chanted a little spell to you. Part of the rock covered in dark green moss sounds and opens and closes left and right. An artificial stone staircase of Chile appeared blurry in a dark ditch with a pompous mouth open.

Marika shook her wand fine and lamped it up as she struck out a small oval ball of light, illuminating inside the dungeon.

One manages to pass slowly down the stairs at last.

The smell of precipitated air and mold poking his nose made his mood gennary.

Every step forward, the dust piled high above the udder buried up to his ankle.

When the collector pulls out his long sword, he concentrates his spirit and proceeds with his slippery feet. Moving on to some extent, he jumped into a huge open space. Two or three hundred people are spacious enough to run side by side.

"Oh, my God, it's suddenly over."

Marika stays silent and as she approaches the edge of the wall, she starts tapping on the soles of her shoes as she picks her skirt. She moves as she kicks the wall clockwise. I don't know why, my hand with the sword dropped dallariously.

"What do you see as Pocan? Help me, too. It would have been in the first note of caution."

"Oh, was that a letter? Oh, you don't know."

"It's an ancient letter. Naturally, even if you can't read it."

"I think it's a bad boy to demand what you can't do for granted, Ked"

"Don't stick around, kick"

"Heck."

The collector kicks into the surrounding walls on a regular basis, as ordered by Marika.

Eventually some of them make light noises, while at the same time collapsing raggedly.

"Yay!

"Yeah, but the real deal looks like it's coming up. I need to break this down. Have a little dirt fun. Klando, you'll like this. Okay, please."

"I don't like anything."

The collector uses his hands to carefully break down the dirt walls. Occasionally, all the way to my arms got muddy. The collector's face was clean and distorted.

"I'm coming. I don't voyage."

"Doctor, it's amazing, it's muddy"

"You're a good boy. Here..."

Marika dropped a kiss on her cheek as the collector showed her muddy hands.

"Doctor, the reward would be better in depth"

As the collector pointed his lips like an abalone, Marika pressed him with a good push at the tip of the cane.

"Don't you have time for that? See you next week."

"Not next week or anything, definitely."

"I don't need a bump."

Either way, the breakthrough was opened. The collector waves his muddy arms, creeping through the freshly made holes, and goes further. At the end of the hole was a passage loaded with extremely precise stone walls. Stop and look at each piece of stone embedded at your fingertips. I feel close to plastic with a well polished, twitchy feel.

"Ah."

"Whoa, it's dangerous!!

I pulled Marika's arm close to glancing behind her back. Gui and I got dressed to cuddle into my chest when I pulled hard. I'm unexpectedly happy with the feel of my pompous breasts. When my cheeks came loose.

"Hey, can anyone be a woman?

"If you're beautiful like Marika, you're always okay"

"Oh, yeah.... Hey, I don't know if I can touch people's asses on my own."

"No, 'cause I won't refuse."

"Mmm. Hey, really. Hey - stop."

"I can't stop, I can't stop"

The collector rubbed his hands out as he turned them to Marika's ass. It's a motion without any context.

"No, don't. This sex beast. Uh-huh."

"Hey, stop sounding sexy. Damn, I can't control the movement of my fingers. Sorry, Marika, I'm sorry."

"Ah, so you're saying no. Well, something hard is hitting my stomach."

The Zao returned to me when he saw his eyes moistened with Marika's tears.

The impulse is becoming uncontrollable. I pretended to be driven by wrath, the bastard, the evil one.

"Sorry, just a reflection. Let's hurry."

When the collector forced the petting to end, he went with a crisp face. Marika gave a slightly rustling bare gesture when she snorted dull.

Marika's expression clouds as she pushes through the stone pile corridor.

"That's an easier win with no monsters at all than I thought. Whoa, is this the stairs again? And a little bit more! The Evil God is just around the corner. We need to keep our heads tight."

"Yeah, right."

The collector was a little concerned about Marika's raw reply, but if he thought it was almost over, he stopped worrying about anything. Keep quietly descending by dropping your gaze only on the high steps. The pain and fatigue of the jiggly wounds make everything disappear. On the descended part, a finely decorated door was seen and clapped out. Unexpectedly, the hem of the trousers was pulled. It is Marika. Her face, illuminated by the light of witchcraft, was bloody.

"Hey, can't you just turn around here?"

"Dude, that's a bad joke! Whatever bugs come out, you and me, we're gonna figure it out."

When the collector kicked Marika's gag, he gently pushed the door in front of her. I'm not wearing a lock. You're an careless god, and I was laughing without knowing it. From inside, blurry light is leaking. Deserves Las Bosses. Try to hit him on the shoulder and go inside. It was not the giant monster I had imagined that would extend into my sight, but one like a square box resembling a larger generator, making a fierce noise. From the odd box, you can't feel the fluctuations of evil like you felt outside. Weakness addition and subtraction were not concomitant, just to anticipate a fierce battle.

"Hey, Marika. This..."

I spoke behind my back.

Moments later, the collector felt a severe paralysis in his neck muscle, falling and lying down in depression.

I have no idea how to take this situation.

More importantly than that, the collector should have taken care that Marika would not emit a single thing after entering this room. Stinging like an oxygen-seeking goldfish, he opens and closes his mouth puckedly. I don't have a voice. I managed to move only my face and turned my gaze behind my back.

Marika stood on the spot as she lowered the wand of the current.

The dull hat I was wearing was falling at my feet.

It's as faceless as it sounds. Why, only the question swirls around the back of the brain with glue.

"That's who the Evil God is. And I know how to stop it. From the beginning."

The collector kept listening in his ear to strange sounds like a broken radio, flowing out of the "evil god”.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Like a trusted prophet, Marika spoke in a harsh tone about the accident history of the Evil God and over herself.

Once upon a time, a clan called High Elves lived throughout this Romeless continent. Unlike the normal elves, they had no such thing as life expectancy, and had transcended it by being born with a death that creatures could not avoid.

In other words, the fundamentals can be lived semi-permanently as long as they are spent uncontested with other organisms because they do not die of disease or aging. That's what they told me more than in ancient times. And that said, there was virtually no such thing as a high elf that gained a long life. The world watched, thoroughly exploited and served their slippage witchcraft talents. The high elves were born with strong resistance, and no matter how vicious the disease broke out, they changed with the pity of their appearance and struck to make sure they survived. Under any circumstances. Instead of what, they were significantly less able to reproduce and could not give birth to one child in their lifetime, but also to their daughter. Those in power at that time continued their brutal research to compete and ravage the high elves and explore the secrets of their long lives, or the king, enthralled by their beauty, made a son in love and made himself the source of the destruction of the country. Magdalena, Marika's mother, was also one of the high elves who loathed those catastrophes and hid in the woods. Magdalena was over five hundred years old, a long life for a high elf. Although the basic specs are high, they were largely compromised by external enemies.

Magdalena was an extraordinary beauty, but she was highly skeptical and basically didn't believe anything but herself.

Normally, the man who met her destiny, who would end up alone, was a bigoted woodblock living in the woods. Marika remembers as she blushed her father's face, but by then her hair was already white. High elves usually stop physical change at about twenty.

In other words, he was lucky enough to shoot Magdalena as a beautiful princess.

Raised by a somewhat difficult but basically gentle mother and a father who drowned daughters her age like grandchildren, Marika had a mixed childhood.

But the collapse happened suddenly. In those days there were constant sparks of riches, and when my father, who was a wood dust, went down inside to sell firewood, he was attacked by a bandit and died a terrible death. Here, Marika's memory is interrupted. Magdalena stopped looking at Marika, who had just celebrated her tenth birthday. It is a complete parenting waiver. This was an unacceptable reality for Marika, who had been drowned. You can be patient if you grow up without knowing the gentleness from the beginning, but no one can possibly be able to forget the taste of the mix you once had. Marika's young heart shook violently at the grief of solitude. Outside the woods, the war is raging wild. It was also thanks to the powerful and incomparable junction of Magdalena that the perimeter of the birth house was kept quiet.

Here Marika begins to encourage her to master witchcraft. Originally, there is nothing else. My mother disappears into the back of the woods every morning when she leaves the house. Sadly, the Book of Magic had enough to rot. As a general rule, witchcraft can only be mastered by one of the groundwater firewinds for the sake of compassion. Materiality is born, but only high elves were able to exercise all of it exceptionally. After five years of learning about whether ordinary people could extremes any one attribute, even if they spent their entire lives, Marika excelled at forty-six types of all-attribute magic leading up to elementary, intermediate, and luxury, and eighteen types of non-attribute magic that did not belong to them. I couldn't get tired of it, I even got my hands on the five spell breaks. I can't heal loneliness except to immerse myself in something. By the time I had finished mastering all of that, Marika was eighteen. Only two people, her father and her mother, have ever held her mouth until she reached this age. She thought of a magical life form called Ent, which she had raised at an early age. That young tree, too, could have disappeared from the garden without knowing it. It must have been inferred that Magdalena had replanted it approximately into a gap with her eyes removed. Whenever Ento looked at each other, he was a rare being to give an opinion to Magdalena. Marika was a typical pull.

And one day on the border, alone in the true sense. Magdalena completed the evil god. It was one hot, humid summer afternoon that flew into the room at the deepest end of the dungeon with the magic of metastasis. Magdalena plunged into the door of the box she named Evil God when she unilaterally twisted the theory of a field beyond Marika's understanding. And that was clear. The system did continue to operate until Magdalena was on the verge of jumping in. Magdalena says it seems to be God's system of eliminating the evils of the world. Evil is, of course, all living and living. Maliciously fluctuating organisms hate each other violently throughout the house, forcing them to start killing. What a cheap ruin of the world Magdalena came to the conclusion.

Then why did she imitate, with her own hands, the phrase that built the delicate system of evil gods? I don't understand.

"I wonder if what your mother wanted to destroy was her own existence, not the world after all. And the Evil God began to sleep halfway through again. I also set an alarm on this system that allowed me to perceive a reboot, and I fell asleep for a long time. No way, it's weird to have a thousand years. Hopefully, I never wanted to wake up."

"Simply destroy or something, can't you..."

"It's no use. If I do that, I don't know what will happen to me either. At least this whole Romless continent could blow up. I can't make that decision. But if your soul."

"My soul."

"There are countless spiritual and child beings in the evil gods. However, even if you capture someone or trick them into following you and throwing them in, you can't completely inhibit your function. That, if the soul does not have a strong will to stop the collapse of the world. So welcoming you to your partner is like a duck jumping in with an onion. This room for building an evil god system is defended by your mother's advanced magic theory and the metastasis is unusable. In the first place, I'm having a bit of an incomplete physique and something like ancestral. Unlike normal, my magic is entirely dictated by the full moon. When I met you, it was at the weakest time of the month, and I was born weak in the first place. If I hadn't relied on someone, I couldn't have stepped through that forest to get this far. I'm sorry we talked so long. You shall be sacrificed. From the beginning, I meant to. I was going to......!

"Hey, come on. What are you doing?"

Marika opened the door on the upper surface of the evil god as she passed by the side of the keeper who remained paralyzed.

Ooh and the odd sound sounded even stronger.

"I pray that a spiritual being named me can destroy this system. And if you can't, run. Far away. Promise, absolutely. I'm so sorry. I'm just begging you."

"I don't care about humans. In the first place, you tricked me into following you all the way here."

"I can't do that. Because I loved you."

"Marika......"

"Even if not now, I want you to live a long day or even a second. Outside this room, I put up a space distortion" room "to get back to the cabin. Please, survive. Survive."

"Stop."

The collector's body was restoring function when he realized it. The crest on his chest glowed violently, filling the room with blue and white light.

He thrust Marika as he jumped up toward the stage like he was bounced.

The upper lid, sleeping like a coffin, was opened, with infinite dark channels lying.

Round your body and stick it out of your head.

Consciousness was dimensioned, and in darkness the raw darkness wrapped everything up perfectly.