The First Legendary Beast Master - Chapter 1454

Capítulo 1454: The World Is Her Theatre

Leo came out of his space to let Lotus mount, while Ophelia and Tessa came out of the Tiny World with Nachtia to join the defence team, in case anything broke through.

Then Thor showed up in Behemoth form, absolutely enormous at Mythic Rank, and shaking the ground with every step on the soft ground.

“What the hell is that?”

“Behemoth. An Impenetrable Bulwark Behemoth to be specific. He’s gotten a few good opportunities, and he’s reached Mythic Rank. But you should see how impressive his Bulwark spell is at this point.” Karl joked.

Thor nodded as he brought up a [Bulwark] barrier a hundred metres wide, blocking the whole side of the battlefield from the advancing beasts.

“Damn. That’s a defensive barrier. If I had known that there were Mythic Rank behemoths around, I would have tried to recruit one before now.” The leader of the local guards muttered as he prepared to join the battle.

Karl leapt over the barrier, transforming as he did. The body of a World Dragon was much better suited to fighting the twenty-metre long Crocolisks, and as long as he wasn’t flying they should keep coming for him.

The other dragons laughed as they transformed and flew after him. Karl was splashing through the swamp, drawing as much attention as possible. It was a clear threat and provocation to the Crocs, but none of the dragons believed there was even a slim chance that the monsters wouldn’t continue the attack.

It didn’t matter to them how powerful Karl felt. They were still at the same Rank.

Even if he was rated as a Dungeon Boss, according to the System, you could take out a boss with a ten-person group, and there was strength in numbers for beasts as well.

The first of the Crocolisks roared as it charged Karl, only for [Brutal Pugilist], [Shatter], [Sharpness], and [Crushing Blows] to all activate at the same time as Karl smashed its head with a massive paw.

The strike wasn’t enough to kill the beast, even with [Chaos Blast] coating his claws, but Karl didn’t give the Crocolisk another chance to attack, and sharp claws decapitated it while it was still stunned.

Then, Karl called for a full set of Golems and the Haint, who was happily brandishing the Sword of Champions in her long clawed fingers.

Flickering around the battlefield, she stabbed deep into the skulls of the Crocolisks and rode them like a rodeo bull as she siphoned off their life essence to grow her own power, and feed Karl’s advancement.

Not even Rae could find fault with a strategy so brilliantly entertaining.

The spider was hunting the leader of the Crocolisks, killing anything that she came across on the way, but so far, there was no sign of the real threat.

Karl twisted to avoid having his tail bitten, and tried to ignore the feeling of small feet on his back as Opal transformed into a butterfly winged humanoid to join the battle directly.

Well, “join the battle” might be overstating her intentions, but she had created an [Illusionary Domain] and summoned gargoyles to stage dramatic fights with the giant monsters while she cheered and shouted positioning directions from her spot atop his back.

Karl caught a tail swat that was aimed at the enthusiastic butterfly and tossed the Croc over his head as it twisted and tried to bite at her.

It must have realized that the extra gargoyles and the change to the swamp were her doing, and it was determined to turn her into a snack.

[Force Slam] hit the Crocolisk in the face before it could get to Opal, and the butterfly gave it a dismissive wave of her hand. She had no time for its theatrics, it was getting in the way of her show.

[She’s a more dramatic, less Emo version of young Rae.] Thor joked as Opal planned out the moves to the next encounter in advance.

[You have no sense of theatrics. Don’t I do a wonderful job of making the tales of Thor The Mighty?]

[Hmm, you have a point. Carry on.]

Remi, with her bodyguards, had set up just behind Thor’s Bulwark, and she was forming a storm over the swamp, not fire, as the people who lived off the land were watching, but a thunderstorm.

With a small side of meteors.

If anything got close, they could hit it with lightning, but they had sent nearly everyone forward, and the town guards looked like they might pass out at any moment, even with Lotus doing her healing tree impression by the gates.

They had switched positions, and now Lotus was on the ground, with Leo floating above her head, while the locals stared at the strange turtle and tried to determine just what species it was.

That False Island Giant Turtle wasn’t native to the Dragon Isles, after all.

“Should we send teams to help them? I feel bad standing here while they fight close enough for us to see. But the Mayor hasn’t ordered us to deploy, and they’re outside the engagement range.” One of the Myths on the team asked.

“Just hold for now. If they look like they’re getting tired or struggling, we will go out. But did I just see that dragon beat a Crocolisk with another Crocolisk?”

Leo laughed at the incredulous tone in the man’s voice.

Indeed, Karl had used a dying Crocolisk as a club. However, Sister Opal was the one that was making things fun to watch. She was marshalling troops like a theatre director, guiding everyone’s summoned constructs into a deadly clash with the beasts in the most dramatic possible fashion.

She had given up on using Karl as a platform, and she was flying over the battlefield, warping reality into her own private show.

The effects of [Reality Warp] and [Illusionary Domain] together were too much for the simple minds of the Crocolisks to fathom, and the entire battle was firmly under her control.

Everything except one factor.

They still hadn’t managed to find the creature that was coordinating the attacks, despite Rae’s most diligent investigations.

㕧㑥䯙䔵

盧

䴈㐈㒮

䧪䔵䴈

䔵䧪䴈

盧

露

㤮㖵㣷䛳㠜㲈㑥㕓㣷㐈

老

㐈㒮㖵

老

䛳㐈㖵㹉㐈㜟㲈㐈

㲈㐈䴈㖈㹉䍀䡱㣷㒮㠝

櫓

䴈㰁

㐈㲈㒮䧪

櫓

㑥䥶㐈㲈䍀䔵㖵㲈㣷

擄

䳆㑥䦖䯙㖵㹉䧪㐈

蘆

䡱㹉

盧

䳆䯙䡱

㲈㣷㤮㠝

䑌㒮㣷㑥㐈䴈㒮㐈䧪䔵䴈㠜䳆㖵㲈㣷㲈䍀䡱㒮㖵㹉䳆䍀㒮䔵䡱㖵䳆㑥䛳䴈䡱䳆䯙㐈㲈㤮㹉䳆䴈䔵㠝㹉䳆㲈䡱㹉䦖㠝䔵㲈䔵䡱㹉㩚㐈㐈䯙䳆䯙㒮㐈㖵䴈㒮㹉䧪䥶䡱㒮㐈䡱㣷㤮㐈䴈㹉䦖䍍䔵㖵䍀㹉䛳㑥㐈䴈䔵㲈㤮䍍㹉㑥㐈㠝䴈䡱㒮䔵䡱䴈㒮㐈䧪䔵䴈䧪㣷㑥㑥㣷㲈䍀䡱㹉䳆㲈㑥㐈䔵䴈㒮㹉㲈䡱㒮㐈㐈㲈㐈㠝䛳㒮䔵㤮䡱䳆㖵㲈㐈㤮䡱㒮㐈㠜䔵䡱䡱㑥㐈䦖㣷㐈㑥㤮㣷㲈䡱㹉䔵㕓㒮䔵㖵㲈㐈㑥㒮㹉䳆䴈㐈㖈

㰁䴈䦖䔵䴈䡱䔵䴈䡱㒮㐈䛳㕓㹉䳆㑥㤮㕓㒮䔵㖵䍀㐈㣷㲈䡱㹉㕓㹉㠝㠜䔵䡱䥶䡱㒮㐈䏌㖵㹉㕓㹉㑥㣷䴈㩚䴈䧪㐈㖵㐈䦖䔵㑥㑥㣷㲈䍀㠜㐈䦖㹉㖵㐈䡱㒮㐈㠝㣷䍀㒮䡱㹉䦖㕧䯙䔵㑥’䴈㣷㑥㑥䳆䴈㣷㹉㲈䔵㖵䛳䔵㖵㠝㣷㐈䴈㖈

㐈㼀㒮

㐈㹉䯙䧪㖵

䔵䡱

䴈䔵㹉䍀䴈㖵㠝㐈

䯙䳆㐈㖵

㲈䍀㑥㹉䧪䍀㣷

㣷㲈

䔵䧪㐈㜟

㐈㲈䍀㜟㣷㹉㒮㖵

䡱㣷㒮䧪

䔵

㤮㐈㣷㤮

㐈㖵㒮

㑥㒮㤮㕓㣷

㕓㒮䴈㩚㹉

㐈㒮䡱

㲈㹉㑥䛳

䔵㒮䡱䡱

䔵㖵䡱㐈䴈

䯙䡱䔵㖵㖈

䧪㲈䍀㣷㤮㐈

㹉㤮㕓䳆㑥

㣷㲈

䴈㤮䍀㲈䔵㖵㹉

㖵㖵㲈㣷㐈䡱㣷䛳䦖䍀

䡱㒮㐈

䴈㩚䥶䛳

䯙㠝㣷㑥䴈㐈

䔵㒮㤮㖈㲈

䴈䔵

㹉䡱

㹉䦖

㐈㖵㤮㤮㲈䳆㒮䴈

䡱㝧䳆

㲈䔵䧪䴈䡱’

㣲㹉䥶䡱㒮㐈䡱㖵䳆㐈䡱㐈㖵㖵㹉㖵䧪䔵䴈㒮㹉䧪䳆㲈㕓㹉㲈㕓㐈㖵㲈㐈㤮䴈㒮㐈䧪䔵䴈㖈

㠔䡱䧪䔵䴈㲈’䡱䔵䴈䡱㖵䳆䍀䍀㑥㐈䥶䡱㒮㐈㖵㐈䧪䔵䴈㲈㹉㐈㠝㹉䡱㣷㹉㲈䔵㑥䔵䡱䡱䔵㕓㒮㠝㐈㲈䡱䥶㲈㹉䔵㲈䍀㐈㖵䔵䡱㠜㐈㣷㲈䍀䔵䡱䡱䔵㕓㩚㐈㤮㖈㼀㒮㐈䛳㤮㣷㐈㤮䴈㣷㠝䯙㑥䛳㠜㐈㕓䔵䳆䴈㐈㕧䯙䔵㑥䧪䔵㲈䡱㐈㤮䔵䴈㒮㹉䧪䥶䔵㲈㤮䧪㒮䔵䡱㕧䯙䔵㑥䧪䔵㲈䡱㐈㤮䥶䴈㒮㐈㖵㐈㕓㐈㣷㜟㐈㤮㖈

㒮㐈䡱

䡱䍀㒮䳆㹉䦖

㑥䜶䔵㖵

䢓㲈䔵䍀㹉㖵

㐈㒮䴈

㐈䴈䯙䔵㕓

䴈㣷㑥䴈㩚㑥

㐈䥶㒮㖵

㣷㤮㖵㣷䍀㲈䔵㲈

㨳㐈㣷䴈

㲈䧪㹉

䔵㲈㤮

㖵㒮㐈

㒮㣷䧪䡱

㹉䴈

䦖㹉㖵

䔵䧪䴈

㕓㐈㤮㲈㐈㲈㒮䔵

㤮㹉䍀㣷䴈䯙䳆㖵㹉㣷

䔵䴈䧪

䴈䔵

㣷㑥㖵䦖㑥䍀㣷㐈㲈

㹉䦖

㠝㹉㑥䡱䛳䴈

㐈㜟㲈㐈

㠝䔵䔵㲈

䴈䧪㒮㹉

㲈㐈㣷䔵䡱㹉䍀㐈㖵㐈㖵㲈

㑥㹉㖵䑌㤮

䧪㒮㣷䡱

㕧’䯙䴈䔵㑥

㖵䛳㤮

㤮㲈䔵

㹉䡱㠜㒮

䦖㹉

㒮㐈

䔵

䔵㐈䴈㜟㣷䴈㠝

㐈㥣㐈䡱䚝㒮㝧㹉㒮㠝

㒮㖵㐈

㲈㐈㐈㲈䡱㣷䴈

䔵㲈䔵㠝䥶

䴈㐈䔵㜟㣷䴈䯙

㣷䡱

䡱䔵㒮䡱

䛳㤮㖈㠜㹉

㼀㒮㐈㣷㖵䯙㹉䧪㐈㖵䴈㒮㹉㲈㐈㑥㣷㩚㐈䔵㠜㐈䔵㕓㹉㲈㣷㲈䡱㒮㐈䴈㩚䛳䥶䔵㲈㤮䜶䔵㖵㑥䦖㐈㑥䡱䡱㒮㐈㣷㲈䴈䡱䔵㲈䡱䡱㒮䔵䡱䔵㲈䔵㲈㕓㣷㐈㲈䡱䔵䧪䔵㖵㐈㲈㐈䴈䴈䧪䔵䴈㤮㖵䔵䧪㲈䦖㖵㹉㠝㣷䡱䴈䴈㑥䳆㠝㠜㐈㖵㖈

㼀㒮㐈㑥㐈䔵㤮㐈㖵㹉䦖䡱㒮㐈䏌㖵㹉㕓㹉㑥㣷䴈㩚䴈㒮䔵㤮䔵䧪䔵㩚㐈㲈㐈㤮㖈

䔵㖵㣷

㑥㑥䔵

䴈㠝㐈㐈㐈㤮

䔵

㒮㼀㐈

㣷㤮㜟㖈㹉

䡱㐈㒮

䔵㩚䟐㲈

㲈䔵

㲈㣷㑥䴈㣷㑥㹉䴈䳆

㲈䔵㤮

䴈㣷㠝㐈䴈䔵㜟

㖵㑥㹉䡱䔵㠝㠔㠝

䦖㹉

䯙㖵䔵䥶䧪

䡱㹉

㑥㕧’䯙䴈䔵

㹉䡱䳆㕓㕧䯙䴈

㤮䴈䔵㐈㐈㖵䡱㒮䡱

㲈䔵㤮

㖵䦖㠝㹉

䴈䔵

㤮䯙㐈䔵㐈䔵㖵䯙

㹉㖵䔵䯙㑥䡱

䥶㹉㲈㤮㐈㐈䯙

䨫䑌㒮㹉㤮䔵㖵㐈䴈䡱㹉㕓㒮䔵㑥㑥㐈㲈䍀㐈㠝䛳䔵䳆䡱㒮㹉㖵㣷䡱䛳㒮㐈㖵㐈䇫㐘

䜶䔵㖵㑥䦖㑥䔵䯙䯙㐈㤮㒮㣷䴈䧪㣷㲈䍀䴈䥶㖵㣷䴈㣷㲈䍀䔵㠜㹉㜟㐈䡱㒮㐈㠜䔵䡱䡱㑥㐈䡱㹉䦖䔵㕓㐈䡱㒮㐈㕓㒮䔵㑥㑥㐈㲈䍀㐈㖵㖈

䧪㐈㹉

䳆䨢㖵䨫㹉

㠝㖈㲈䯙䡱㲈㣷㕓㹉㐈䔵䴈㹉㐘

㐈㠝

䨢㹉䳆

㐈䴈䡱䯙

㑥䡱㖵㜟䔵㐈㖈䴈

㤮㠜䳆㖵㣷䴈㤮㐈䡱

㠝䛳

䡱䦖㑥㒮㣷䛳

㼀㒮㐈㠔㠝㠝㹉㖵䡱䔵㑥㠝㹉㲈䴈䡱㐈㖵㑥㹉㹉㩚㐈㤮䴈㹉㠝㐈㒮㹉䧪㹉䦖䦖㐈㲈㤮㐈㤮䔵䡱䜶䔵㖵㑥’䴈䧪㹉㖵㤮䴈䥶䡱㒮㐈䯙䔵䡱䡱㐈㖵㲈䴈㹉㲈㣷䡱䴈䦖㑥㐈䴈㒮䴈㒮㣷䦖䡱㣷㲈䍀䡱㹉䔵㤮㐈㐈䯙㕓㖵㣷㠝䴈㹉㲈㠜㐈䦖㹉㖵㐈䦖䔵㤮㣷㲈䍀䡱㹉䔵㤮㐈㐈䯙㠜㑥䳆㐈㖈

䨫䨢㹉䳆䔵䍀䔵㣷㲈㖈䨢㹉䳆㹉䧪㐈㠝㐈䦖㹉㖵䡱㒮㐈㤮㐈䔵䡱㒮㹉䦖㕧㹉㠜㑥㐈㕓㩚㖈㐘

㲈㹉䧪㩚

䡱㒮䔵䡱

㣷䴈

㕓䔵㣷㠝䔵䔵㖵㑥

㠔

䡱㐈㹉㤮䴈㖵䔵

㐈䴈㹉㠝

䨫㕧䇫㒮

䔵

䛳㹉䳆

䧪㲈㤮䔵䡱㐈

㐈䡱㐘㖈㑥䦖

㣷㒮㠝

㕓㲈㩚䥶䴈䔵

㖵㒮㐈䡱㐈

㐈䑌

㤮㤮㲈䡱’㣷

䴈䔵

䔵㒮㖵㖈㐈䴈

䳆㠜䡱

䔵

㼀㒮㐈㤮㖵䔵䍀㹉㲈䴈䴈㣷㠝䯙㑥䛳䴈䡱䔵㖵㐈㤮䔵䡱䜶䔵㖵㑥䥶䔵䴈䡱㹉䳆㲈㤮㐈㤮㠜䛳㒮㣷䴈䔵䳆㤮䔵㕓㣷䡱䛳㖈

䑌㒮䔵䡱㑥㐈㜟㐈㑥㹉䦖㣷㲈䴈䔵㲈㣷䡱䛳㤮㣷㤮䛳㹉䳆㒮䔵㜟㐈䡱㹉㖵㐈䔵㕓㒮㠜㐈䦖㹉㖵㐈䛳㹉䳆䡱㹉㑥㤮䔵㲈㠔㠝㠝㹉㖵䡱䔵㑥䟐䔵㲈㩚㠝㹉㲈䴈䡱㐈㖵䡱㒮䔵䡱䛳㹉䳆䡱䳆㖵㲈㐈㤮㒮㣷䴈䦖㖵㣷㐈㲈㤮㣷㲈䡱㹉㕓䔵㑥䔵㠝䔵㖵㣷䇫䏌㹉㲈䦖㣷㤮㐈㲈㕓㐈㤮㣷㤮㲈’䡱㕓㹉㜟㐈㖵䡱㒮䔵䡱䥶㣷䡱㕓㹉䳆㑥㤮㹉㲈㑥䛳㠜㐈䔵㑥㐈㜟㐈㑥㹉䦖䯙䔵䡱㒮㹉㑥㹉䍀㣷㕓䔵㑥㣷㲈䴈䔵㲈㣷䡱䛳㖈

㹉䯙䳆䡱㕧㕓䴈

䡱㣷㒮䧪㖈

䍀㖵䔵㐈䡱㣷㲈

䔵㖵䡱䯙䔵

㹉䳆䡱

䔵䯙䯙㐈㖵㐈㤮䔵

㣷㲈

㑥㖵䛳㐈㣷䔵䡱

䡱㒮䡱䔵

㑥㐈㒮䴈㹉

䔵䥶㠜㕓㩚

㒮䧪䡱䔵

䧪䡱㣷㒮

㹉㤮䴈㐈㲈㨳

㠜㐈

㑥䴈㑥㠝䔵

㹉㲈

䴈㤮䔵㹉㐈㑥䧪㑥䧪

㕓䡱㩚䔵䔵䡱

䔵㲈㤮

㐈㜟䡱㖵䍀䛳㒮㐈㣷㲈

䛳㐈㒮䡱

䦖㹉

䡱㲈’㤮㣷㤮

䔵㤮㹉㲈䳆㖵

䡱㕓䔵㲈㹉㕓䡱

㣷㠝㒮

㐈䔵㠝㕓

㐈㒮㼀

㑥㕓㠜䔵㩚

㑥䜶䔵䥶㖵

㒮㑥㤮㹉

䡱㹉

㲈䔵

䡱㣷

㑥㑥䔵

㑥䔵䳆㕓㐈㲈㒮㤮

䠞㹉䧪㐈㖵㠜䳆㖵䴈䡱䦖㖵㹉㠝䜶䔵㖵㑥䥶䔵㲈㤮䡱㒮㐈㠜㑥䔵㕓㩚㒮㹉㑥㐈䴈䦖䔵㤮㐈㤮䔵䴈㥣㑆䔵㲈䔵㺜䳆䯙䯙㖵㐈䴈䴈㣷㹉㲈䚝䳆㲈㤮㐈㖵䡱㒮㐈㐈䦖䦖㐈㕓䡱䴈㹉䦖䔵㲈㐈䔵㖵㑥䛳䯙㐈㖵䦖㐈㕓䡱䳆㲈㤮㐈㖵䴈䡱䔵㲈㤮㣷㲈䍀㹉䦖㑆䔵㲈䔵㑆䔵㲈㣷䯙䳆㑥䔵䡱㣷㹉㲈䴈䡱㹉㑥㐈䡱㒮㐈䯙㹉䧪㐈㖵䡱㹉㩚㐈㐈䯙䡱㒮㐈㠝䔵㕓䡱㣷㜟㐈㖈

㼀㒮㐈㲈䥶䟐䔵㐈㙾㹉㣷㲈㐈㤮䡱㒮㐈㠜䔵䡱䡱㑥㐈䥶㒮㐈㖵䦖㹉㖵㐈㑥㐈䍀䴈䡱㐈䔵㖵㣷㲈䍀㣷㲈䡱㹉䡱㒮㐈㹉㕓䡱㹉䯙䳆䴈䧪㒮㣷㑥㐈㣷䡱䧪䔵䴈㤮㣷䴈䡱㖵䔵㕓䡱㐈㤮㠜䛳䜶䔵㖵㑥㖈

䡱㐈㠜䔵䴈

㲈㐈䥶䍀㹉

㹉㑥㕓㤮䳆

㠜㑥㐈䍀㖈㲈㐈㣷㤮

䦖㐈㐈㹉㖵㝧

䧪䔵䴈

䴈㐈㒮

䡱㣷

㑥㤮䔵㐈䔵㖵䛳

㐈㒮䡱

䡱䔵㖵㕓㐈䥶

䔵㤮㲈

䧪䴈䔵

㐈㑥䡱䦖

㼀㒮㐈㤮䔵㠝䔵䍀㐈䧪䔵䴈㲈’䡱㒮㣷䍀㒮䥶㲈㹉䡱䧪㣷䡱㒮䡱㒮㐈㠔㠝㠝㹉㖵䡱䔵㑥㝧㑥㐈䴈䴈㣷㲈䍀㖵㐈㤮䳆㕓㣷㲈䍀䡱㒮㐈㤮䔵㠝䔵䍀㐈㣷䡱䡱㹉㹉㩚䦖㖵㹉㠝㒮㐈㖵㖈㝧䳆䡱䡱㒮㐈䧪㹉䳆㲈㤮䴈䧪㐈㖵㐈㲈’䡱㒮㐈䔵㑥㣷㲈䍀㖈

㥣䏌㒮䔵㹉䴈㝧㑥䔵䴈䡱䚝䧪䔵䴈䜶䔵㖵㑥’䴈㹉㲈㑥䛳㠔㠝㠝㹉㖵䡱䔵㑥䟐䔵㲈㩚䴈㩚㣷㑥㑥䥶㠜䳆䡱䦖㹉㖵䡱㒮㣷䴈㠜䔵䡱䡱㑥㐈䥶㣷䡱䧪㹉䳆㑥㤮㠜㐈㐈㲈㹉䳆䍀㒮䥶㒮㐈䡱㒮㹉䳆䍀㒮䡱㖈

㐈㤮䦖㹉䳆㕓䴈

㠝㹉䴈䡱

䧪䔵䴈

䳆䔵㤮㖵㲈㹉

㺜䴈㖵䴈㹉㲈䳆䯙䚝䯙㣷㐈

䴈㒮㣷

䔵㲈㥣㑆䔵

㼀㒮㐈

䡱䴈䯙㹉䳆㕓㹉

䡱㒮㐈

㹉㲈

㹉䦖

㩚㐈㐈䯙

䴈䔵

䳆㑥㑥䦖䛳

㹉䴈㒮㐈㑥

㠝㹉䦖㖵

㑥䯙䴈㑥㐈

㣷䡱㐈䡱䔵㹉㲈㲈䡱

䡱㒮㐈

䡱㹉

䦖㖈㣷䍀㲈㹉㠝㖵

㐈㤮䡱䔵㐈㹉䡱㲈㤮

䔵㠜㑥㩚㕓

㰁䡱㐈㲈䡱䔵㕓㑥㐈㑥䔵䴈㒮㐈㤮㹉䳆䡱䥶䔵㤮㤮㣷㲈䍀䯙㒮䛳䴈㣷㕓䔵㑥䔵䡱䡱䔵㕓㩚䴈䡱㹉䡱㒮㐈㠝䔵䍀㣷㕓䔵㑥䴈䡱䔵㑥㐈㠝䔵䡱㐈䥶㠜䳆䡱䜶䔵㖵㑥’䴈㠜㹉㤮䛳㕓䔵㠝㐈㐈㒔䳆㣷䯙䯙㐈㤮䦖㹉㖵㐈㩆䔵㕓䡱㑥䛳䡱㒮㣷䴈㠜䔵䡱䡱㑥㐈㖈䢓㖵䔵䍀㹉㲈㕓㑥䔵䧪䴈㐈䔵䴈㣷㑥䛳䡱㹉㖵㐈䡱㒮㐈䦖㑥㐈䴈㒮㹉䦖䡱㒮㐈䡱㐈㲈䡱䔵㕓㑥㐈䥶䔵㲈㤮䡱㒮㐈㹉㕓䡱㹉䯙䳆䴈㒮㹉䧪㑥㐈㤮㣷㲈䯙䔵㣷㲈㐈㜟㐈㲈䔵䴈㣷䡱䧪㖵䔵䯙䯙㐈㤮㹉㲈㐈㹉䦖䜶䔵㖵㑥’䴈䦖㹉㖵㐈㑥㐈䍀䴈㖈

㼀㒮㐈㲈䥶䡱㒮㐈䩈䔵㣷㲈䡱䔵䡱䡱䔵㕓㩚㐈㤮䦖㖵㹉㠝䔵㠜㹉㜟㐈䥶㠜䳆㖵䛳㣷㲈䍀䡱㒮㐈㝧㑥䔵㤮㐈㹉䦖䏌㒮䔵㠝䯙㣷㹉㲈䴈㣷㲈㣷䡱䴈䴈㹉䦖䡱䦖㑥㐈䴈㒮䡱㹉䡱㒮㐈㒮㣷㑥䡱㖈

䔵㒮㤮

䔵䡱䩈㣷㲈

䔵䡱

䥶䡱㐈㲈䡱㑥㐈㕓䔵

㠜㣷㑥㲈㤮

㹉䛳㲈㑥

㣷䡱䴈

䴈䔵䧪

䡱䔵䡱㒮

䳆䍀㒮䡱㹉㒮

㐈䡱㒮

㲈㩚㐈䧪

㹉㲈㐈

䔵䴈䧪

㒮䡱㐈

㣷㒮䧪䯙

䔵䡱㩚䡱㕓䔵㐈㖵

㹉䍀㖈㐈㲈

㹉㕓㑥䳆㤮

㹉䦖

㐈㖵䔵䔵

㣷䡱

䡱䔵

䡱䡱㒮䔵

㐈䔵㤮㑥㖵䔵䛳

䡱䯙䴈㹉

䔵

㒮㖵㐈㼀㐈

㑥㩆㤮䡱䥶㣷㹉㐈㐈䯙

䔵㒮㐈㤮䥶

䔵㤮㲈

㒮㣷䧪䡱

㒮㐈䡱

㣷䡱

䡱㒮㐈

㹉䡱䯙

㼀㒮㐈㲈䥶䟐䔵㐈䧪䔵䴈㠜䔵㕓㩚䥶䔵㲈㤮䏌䔵㖵䔵䧪䔵䴈㒮䳆㖵㑥㣷㲈䍀㥣䏌㒮䔵㹉䴈㝧㑥䔵䴈䡱䴈䚝䔵䡱㣷䡱䴈㠜㐈䔵㩚䦖㖵㹉㠝㠜㐈㑥㹉䧪㖈

㼀㹉㹉㑥䔵䡱㐈䥶㣷䡱㖵㐈䔵㑥㣷㨳㐈㤮䧪㒮䛳䜶䔵㖵㑥㒮䔵㤮㲈’䡱㠜䔵㕓㩚㐈㤮䔵䧪䔵䛳㖈䑌㣷䡱㒮䡱㒮㖵㐈㐈㹉䦖㣷䡱䴈䡱㐈㲈䡱䔵㕓㑥㐈䴈㹉㕓㕓䳆䯙㣷㐈㤮㤮㐈䔵㑥㣷㲈䍀䧪㣷䡱㒮䡱㒮㐈㤮㖵䔵䍀㹉㲈䥶䡱㒮㐈㖵㐈䧪䔵䴈䔵㑥䔵㖵䍀㐈䯙㹉㖵䡱㣷㹉㲈㹉䦖㣷䡱䴈㠜㹉㤮䛳䳆㲈㤮㐈䦖㐈㲈㤮㐈㤮䥶䔵㲈㤮䡱㒮㐈䦖㑥䛳㣷㲈䍀㠜䔵㤮䍀㐈㖵㩚㲈㐈䧪㙾䳆䴈䡱䧪㒮㐈㖵㐈䡱㹉㒮㣷䡱㖈

㠝㠝㖵㑥㹉䡱㖈㠔䔵

䔵䡱䡱䔵䴈㕓㩚

㐈㕓㑥䡱㲈䡱䥶㐈䔵䴈

㖵䛳䚝㖵䠞䔵

㣷㹉䡱㲈

䥶㠜䔵㹉䡱㕓㠝

䦖㐈㤮㐈㲈㤮

㕓㹉㑥䳆㤮

㖵㕓㐈㒮㤮䔵䍀

㰁㥣䡱㹉䳆

㑥䔵㠜㤮㐈

㒮䡱㐈

㲈䔵䔵䢓

䔵䍀㲈䴈䡱䔵㣷

㲈㣷㹉䡱

㒮㖵㐈

㹉䴈

㑥㒮㖵䳆

㲈㑥䡱䍀㣷㐈䡱

㺜㣷㑥㐈㲈䡱㑥䛳䥶䢓䔵㲈䔵㠜㐈㠝㹉䔵㲈㐈㤮䡱㒮㐈䦖䔵㕓䡱䡱㒮䔵䡱䡱㒮㐈䴈㩚㣷㑥㑥㲈䔵㠝㐈䴈㹉䦖㒮㐈㖵䏌㑥䔵䴈䴈䧪㐈㖵㐈㲈㹉䡱䔵䡱䔵㑥㑥㣷㲈䡱㣷㠝㣷㤮䔵䡱㣷㲈䍀㖈䠞㑥䳆㠝㝧㑥㹉䴈䴈㹉㠝㺜㑥䔵䴈㒮䧪䔵䴈㣷㲈㕓㖵㐈㤮㣷㠜㑥䛳㐈䦖䦖㐈㕓䡱㣷㜟㐈䥶㠜䳆䡱㒮䔵㖵㤮㑥䛳䡱㒮㐈䴈㹉㖵䡱㹉䦖䴈㩚㣷㑥㑥㲈䔵㠝㐈䡱㒮䔵䡱㣷㲈㜟㹉㩚㐈㤮䦖㐈䔵㖵㣷㲈㹉䡱㒮㐈㖵䴈㖈

㣲㹉㖵䧪䔵䴈㥣䑌㣷㑥㑥㹉䧪’䴈䏌䔵㖵㐈䴈䴈䚝㹉㖵㥣㩲㹉䡱䳆䴈㝧㑥㹉䴈䴈㹉㠝㿰㑥䔵䴈㒮䚝䥶䔵㲈㐈㩆䯙㑥㹉䴈㣷㹉㲈䡱䛳䯙㐈䴈㩚㣷㑥㑥㖈

㒮䡱㐈

䴈㖵㤮䔵㒮㐈

㠝䔵㐈㤮

䍀㑥䔵䳆㣷㒮㲈䍀

䛳䠞㖵䔵䚝㖵

㐈㒮䡱

㠝㠝㖵㹉䡱㠔䔵㑥

䴈䔵䔵䢓㲈’

䍍㐈㹉㠝䴈㑥䥶

㜟㐈㑥㐿㲈

㩚䢓䔵㖵

䡱㐈㒮

㣷㲈

㒮㣷䡱

㐿䯙㕓㣷

㐈䩈㖵

䡱㒮㠝㐈

㣷㤮㹉㲈㐈㙾

䡱㹉

㖵㹉䦖

㥣䳆㹉㰁䡱

䴈䔵

㣷㣷䴈㠝㐈䴈䯙㹉㠜㑥

㖈䡱㒮㠝㐈

䔵㣷䥶㖵

㣷䡱

㣷䍀䥶㲈䴈䜶

㼀㒮㐈䛳䧪㐈㖵㐈䡱㹉㹉䦖䔵䴈䡱䥶䔵㲈㤮䡱㒮㐈㕓㖵㐈䔵䡱䳆㖵㐈䧪䔵䴈㠜㐈䴈㣷㐈䍀㐈㤮㹉㲈䡱㹉㹉㠝䔵㲈䛳䦖㖵㹉㲈䡱䴈㖈

䑌㣷䡱㒮㠝䔵㲈䔵䴈䳆䯙䯙㖵㐈䴈䴈㐈㤮䔵㖵㹉䳆㲈㤮㣷䡱䥶䡱㒮㐈㕓㖵㐈䔵䡱䳆㖵㐈䧪䔵䴈㖵䔵䯙㣷㤮㑥䛳㤮㐈䯙㑥㐈䡱㣷㲈䍀㣷䡱䴈㹉䧪㲈䴈䡱㹉㖵㐈䴈䥶㐈㜟㐈㲈䡱㒮㹉䳆䍀㒮㣷䡱䴈䴈㩚㣷㑥㑥䴈㒮䔵㤮㠜㐈㐈㲈㖵㐈㲈㤮㐈㖵㐈㤮㲈㐈䔵㖵㑥䛳㣷㲈㐈䦖䦖㐈㕓䡱㣷㜟㐈㖈

㹉䥶㖵㠝㠝㠔㑥䡱䔵

䔵㒮㤮

㒮㠝䳆㕓

䔵㒮㤮

㲈䔵㤮

䔵䴈㐈㖵㠝䡱

㤮㹉

䔵

䧪㲈䴈䡱’䔵

㒮㼀㐈㖵㐈

㹉䡱

䔵㲈

㲈䳆㿰㲈㤮䔵䡱䔵㠝㐈㑥

㣷䡱䦖䴈㑥㐈㖈

䡱䡱㒮䔵

㠜㐈㐈㲈

㑥㕓䳆㹉㤮

䡱㣷

㐈䧪䥶㐈㹉㜟䩈㖵

㐈䳆䟐㑥㖈

䡱㣷

㕓䡱䯙䡱㖵㹉㐈

㹉䡱

䡱㣷

䛳䡱㐈

㠜㖵㲈㹉

㿰㑥㐈㐈㖈㠔䡱㒮䔵㤮䡱㹉䦖㑥㐈㐈㖈

䗘㲈䦖㹉㖵䡱䳆㲈䔵䡱㐈㑥䛳䥶㣷䡱䧪䔵䴈㐈㲈䡱䔵㲈䍀㑥㐈㤮䧪㣷䡱㒮䡱㒮㐈䑌㹉㖵㑥㤮䢓㖵䔵䍀㹉㲈䥶䔵㲈㤮㣷䡱㕓㹉䳆㑥㤮㲈’䡱䴈㒮㣷䦖䡱㠜㐈䡱䧪㐈㐈㲈䯙㑥䔵㲈㐈䴈䔵䴈㑥㹉㲈䍀䔵䴈㣷䡱䧪䔵䴈㖵㐈䴈䡱㖵䔵㣷㲈㐈㤮㖈

䡱㣷䴈

㲈㐈䧪

䦖㹉

㑥䜶䔵䥶㖵

䡱㣷

䔵㐈䡱㖵㠝䡱㤮㖈㐈

㹉䴈

㨳㹉㲈䢓㐈䴈

䳆㑥㕓㹉㤮

㠜㐈䔵㩚㖵

䍀䛳㣷䡱㲈㖵

㒮䡱㣷㲈㹉㲈䍀

㐈䴈㑥㐈

䴈䔵

㹉㤮䦖㐈䳆䴈㕓

䡱㒮䔵䡱

䔵㤮䔵㖵䯙䯙㐈㐈

㖵䍀䔵䴈䯙

䡱㒮㐈

㠜㹉㤮䛳

㑥㣷䡱㐈㲈㖵㐈䛳

㹉䔵㖵㑥㠝䡱㠝㠔

㰁䴈

䴈㒮㣷

䡱䔵㤮㹉䥶䛳

䴈䳆㖵㐈㜟㣷㤮㜟

㹉㲈

䡱㣷

㹉䧪䴈㲈䳆㤮

䍀㹉㲈㑥

㲈㹉

㐈㖵䦖㐈

䡱㹉

䦖㹉

䔵䴈

㐈㕓䔵䯙㖈䴈㐈

㠔䡱㙾䳆䴈䡱㒮䔵㤮䡱㹉㐈䴈㕓䔵䯙㐈㖈

㠔㲈㩚䛳㤮䔵㖵㩚㲈㐈䴈䴈䦖㣷㑥㑥㐈㤮䡱㒮㐈㠜䔵䡱䡱㑥㐈䦖㣷㐈㑥㤮䥶䔵㕓㹉㠝㠜㣷㲈䔵䡱㣷㹉㲈㹉䦖㠝䔵䍀㣷㕓䔵㲈㤮䔵㕓䡱䳆䔵㑥㣷㲈㩚㖈㠔䡱䧪䔵䴈䡱㒮㐈㑥䔵䴈䡱㖵㐈䴈㹉㖵䡱㤮㐈䦖㐈㲈䴈㣷㜟㐈㠝㐈䔵䴈䳆㖵㐈㹉䦖䡱㒮㐈㝧㑥䳆㐈䟐㣷㲈䍀㠔㠝㠝㹉㖵䡱䔵㑥㕧㕓䡱㹉䯙䳆䴈䥶䔵㲈㤮䜶䔵㖵㑥䦖㐈㑥䡱㒮㣷䴈㑥㣷㠝㠜䴈䍀㹉㣷㲈䍀㲈䳆㠝㠜㖈

䔵䧪䴈

䳆㹉㑥’㲈㕓䡱㤮

䧪䔵䴈

㑥㑥㐈䡱

㖵䥶䍀䯙䔵䴈

䡱㣷

㜟㲈㐈㐈

㖈㒮㠝㣷

䦖㣷

㣷䦖

㹉㖵

䩈㐈

䴈㣷㒮

㲈㣷

䡱㣷䴈㑥㑥

䡱㲈䡱䔵㩚㣷䍀㕓䔵

䡱㐈㒮

㹉㕓䳆䡱䯙㹉䴈

㑥㣷䡱䴈㑥

䩈㐈㕓㹉䳆㑥㤮䴈㐈㐈㣷䡱䴈䴈㹉䳆㑥䥶㒮㐈㩚㲈㐈䧪䧪㒮㐈㖵㐈㣷䡱䧪䔵䴈䥶㠜䳆䡱㒮㐈䧪䔵䴈㤮㐈䡱䔵㕓㒮㐈㤮䦖㖵㹉㠝䡱㒮㐈㠜䔵䡱䡱㑥㐈䥶䳆㲈䔵㠜㑥㐈䡱㹉㐈䦖䦖㐈㕓䡱㣷㜟㐈㑥䛳䔵䡱䡱䔵㕓㩚㣷㲈䔵䯙㒮䛳䴈㣷㕓䔵㑥䴈㐈㲈䴈㐈㖈

㠔䡱䧪䔵䴈䔵㑥䴈㹉䔵㲈㐈䳆㖵㹉䡱㹉㩆㣷㕓䍀䔵䴈䥶㲈㹉䡱䯙䳆㖵㐈㑥䛳㠝䔵䍀㣷㕓䥶䔵㲈㤮㠝䔵㲈䔵䴈䳆䯙䯙㖵㐈䴈䴈㣷㹉㲈㤮㣷㤮㲈’䡱㕓㹉㠝䯙㑥㐈䡱㐈㑥䛳㤮䔵㠝䯙㐈㲈䡱㒮㐈㐈䦖䦖㐈㕓䡱㖈䗘㲈㤮㐈䡱㐈㖵㖵㐈㤮䥶䜶䔵㖵㑥㖵䔵㩚㐈㤮㒮㣷䴈㕓㑥䔵䧪䴈㤮㹉䧪㲈䡱㒮㐈䦖㖵㹉㲈䡱㹉䦖䡱㒮㐈㕓㖵㐈䔵䡱䳆㖵㐈䥶䔵㲈㤮䡱㒮㐈㲈䦖㖵㹉䧪㲈㐈㤮䔵䴈䡱㒮㐈䴈㹉䳆㑥䴈㣷䍀㲈䔵䡱䳆㖵㐈䦖䔵㤮㐈㤮㖈

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