𝕊𝕋𝕆ℝ𝕐𝔹𝕆𝔸ℝ𝔻
𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕤𝕒𝕚𝕕 𝕂𝕒𝕚𝕫𝕖𝕟 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕟𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕒 𝕕𝕦𝕖𝕝. 𝕐𝕖𝕥 𝕚𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕤𝕟’𝕥 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕟𝕘𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕞𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕙𝕚𝕞 𝕚𝕟𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕚𝕓𝕝𝕖, 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕒𝕓𝕤𝕠𝕝𝕦𝕥𝕖 𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕞 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕕𝕖𝕕 𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙 𝕠𝕗 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕞𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕤, 𝕒𝕤 𝕚𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕒𝕝𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕪 𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖𝕟 𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕖 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖, 𝕚𝕟 𝕒 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖 𝕠𝕟𝕝𝕪 𝕙𝕖 𝕜𝕟𝕖𝕨.
ℍ𝕚𝕤 𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕣𝕠𝕓𝕖, 𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕣𝕠𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕕𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕓𝕪 𝕒 𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕒𝕘𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕨𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕨𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕥 𝕞𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕧𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕕 𝕕𝕖𝕔𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕘𝕠, 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕟𝕠 𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕘𝕒𝕣𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥: 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕡𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕟 𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕕 𝕒 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕖. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕥 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕙𝕚𝕡𝕤, 𝕚𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕤𝕒𝕚𝕕, 𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕟 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕕𝕖𝕗𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕, 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕙𝕠𝕟𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕕, 𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕜 𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖. 𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟, 𝕓𝕖𝕥𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘, 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕒𝕘𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕡𝕒𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝕙𝕚𝕞.
𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘, 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕜𝕪 𝕕𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕕 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕠𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕖 𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕕. 𝔸 𝕟𝕖𝕨 𝕠𝕡𝕡𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕕, 𝕙𝕖 𝕜𝕟𝕖𝕨, 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕕 𝕓𝕪 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕦𝕞𝕠𝕣 𝕠𝕗 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕝𝕖𝕘𝕖𝕟𝕕. ℝ𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕤 𝕔𝕣𝕠𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕜𝕪 𝕚𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖. 𝕂𝕒𝕚𝕫𝕖𝕟 𝕕𝕚𝕕 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕞𝕠𝕧𝕖. ℍ𝕚𝕤 𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕕𝕖, 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕪 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕔𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕖𝕤, 𝕙𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕠𝕗𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕒𝕥 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕣𝕖𝕞𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕕 𝕣𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕩𝕖𝕕.
𝔽𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕦𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕠𝕣, 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕠𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕥𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕙𝕚𝕞, 𝕟𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕣𝕒𝕨𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕣. ℍ𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕚𝕥𝕤, 𝕡𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕝𝕪, 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕠 𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕓𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕨𝕠𝕟 𝕓𝕖𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟 𝕓𝕖𝕘𝕦𝕟. 𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕚𝕟, 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕟 𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕣𝕠𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕠𝕟 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕕, 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕒 𝕞𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥, 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕙𝕚𝕞.
𝔻𝕣𝕒𝕡𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕟 𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕤𝕚𝕝𝕜 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕣𝕠𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕕𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕔𝕠𝕚𝕝, 𝕙𝕖 𝕙𝕠𝕝𝕕𝕤 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕒𝕟 𝕒𝕝𝕞𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕤𝕦𝕒𝕝 𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕕, 𝕒𝕤 𝕚𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕒𝕝𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕪 𝕒 𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕪 𝕤𝕜𝕪 𝕕𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕖𝕟𝕤 𝕓𝕖𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕙𝕚𝕞, 𝕕𝕒𝕣𝕜 𝕓𝕚𝕣𝕕𝕤 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕜 𝕒𝕔𝕣𝕠𝕤𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕔𝕪 𝕘𝕒𝕫𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘. 𝔼𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕕𝕖𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕝 𝕠𝕗 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕚𝕣𝕖, 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕕 𝕤𝕜𝕚𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕧𝕖𝕕 𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕥, 𝕥𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕒 𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕠𝕣 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕨𝕙𝕠𝕞 𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕘𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕒𝕞𝕖. ⚔️🐉🖤
26 September - 18 october
::GB:: - Kurikara Ryuou
Dura - B144
Gloom -
SEKAI - Saint Spear
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