Azeroth Monster Manual

Hemit wiped the sticky blood from his hands and walked to the giant turtle's side.

The old dwarf stroked the huge creature's carapace with a complex expression, and the originally manic giant turtle gradually calmed down under Hemit's touch.

"He really is a hunter!"

The trio exclaimed in unison again.

"Of course, I'm a hunter! Or are you three stinky kids looking to taste Old Hemit's fist?"

The old dwarf, having just cast [Animal Soothe], said gruffly to the trio.

Kaelin, who had been the loudest, shrank back. He didn't want to be pummeled by the old dwarf's pot-sized fist.

Hemit ignored the gazes of the crowd. He quickly snapped the ropes on the giant turtle's body and then began to study the dense iron nails on its back.

"Master, what's wrong with Hemit? I've never seen him so gentle."

Anslem approached Ayr and asked quietly.

Ayr chuckled softly, his gaze towards the old dwarf softening as well.

This old dwarf was rude, barbaric, and uneducated. He had too many flaws, but he also had many bright spots. Having spent so much time with the old dwarf, Ayr had a considerable understanding of Hemit's temperament.

Faced with the murderer who killed his companions, the old dwarf could go without sleep to seek revenge, even if he had to do it alone. When faced with prey he was interested in, he could disregard his own life.

Ayr clearly remembered...

It was a moonless night, and the two were sitting by the campfire, chatting.

"Hemit, can you tell me why you abandoned your wife and son to come to this dangerous continent? Don't try to fool me with that employer's commission."

The young man elegantly cut open a piece of raptor back meat and roasted it over the fire. This part was the most chewy and tender part of the raptor's body.

Hemit stared straight at the campfire in front of him, seemingly without any desire to speak.

"Forget it. We still need to look for Mosh's trail tomorrow. Let's hurry up and rest after dinner."

Ayr flipped the tenderloin with little interest, feeling somewhat dejected.

After a long time, just when Ayr thought the dwarf in front of him had fallen asleep with his eyes open, Hemit finally spoke.

"I used to be an Ironforge Mountaineer..."

The old dwarf didn't have the talent for storytelling. His story was long and boring, but Ayr still listened with great interest.

"Then why give up a good position to hunt in Kalimdor?"

Ayr rested his chin in his hand, staring at the campfire in front of him, waiting for the old dwarf's answer.

"Lord Ayr... you are not a hunter, and you may never understand the feelings of a hunter."

Mentioning a topic he was interested in, Hemit also became excited.

"Every hunter's heart is empty, and only the thrill of the hunt can fill this emptiness. Because every time you hunt, the void in your heart is filled with excitement and joy.

But before long, this feeling of emptiness will reappear, so you must start the next hunt to pursue that special feeling.

When you're not hunting, you don't know what kind of hunter you are at heart until your eyes focus on the approaching and roaring Grim Reaper.

And even though there are three hundred pounds of fangs and claws trying to tear you apart, you'll only realize you're still alive at that moment. At that instant, the whole world will fade away, and all that remains is you, the beast, your hunting skills, and a rare opportunity.

Then, when the hunt is over and you stand on the prey's corpse, sweat dripping from your head, and your ears can hear the rumbling of your heartbeat, it feels like a newborn baby opening its eyes for the first time and looking at the world. Every hunt is like that."

Ayr now understood what kind of person Hemit was. He was a man who craved adventure and recognition, and every hunt was his contempt for his originally ordinary life.

"Then what about your wife and son? I heard your son doesn't even have a name. People call him Nesingwary II?"

Ayr asked with interest while biting into the roasted meat.

Mentioning his family, Hemit's expression gradually dimmed, and the old dwarf's emotions visibly dropped.

"Alright, let's change the subject. As far as I know, every qualified hunter has their own wilderness companion. What about you, Hemit?"

Ayr realized he had misspoke and quickly changed the subject.

Hearing the young man's words, the old dwarf didn't cheer up. He said in a flat tone mixed with inexplicable emotion:

"I remember that 100 years ago, I was just a newly adult dwarf. My uncle gave me a Dun Morogh snow bear cub.

I still remember what it looked like. It was a great bear. We ate together, hunted together, played together. It spent a happy time with me, but the lifespan of a snow bear is only 25 years..."

The old dwarf sadly took out his pipe, lit it by the campfire, took a deep puff, and continued.

"After my partner died, I was sad for a long time. At that time, I often hated myself for having a long lifespan (300-500 years). Later, I left the Mountaineers and accepted orders from nobles and merchants, going to Kalimdor far away.

On the surface, it was to give my family a better life, but in reality, it was just to get away from the original comfortable and ordinary life...

I'm not a good husband, and I'm not a good father."

The old dwarf stroked the pocket watch on his chest, saying with some regret.

"Later, I found a chimpanzee as my partner. I called it Duka. Duka means longevity and peace in the dwarven language, which is also my hope for my partner.

But unexpectedly, Duka died under the lightning breath of a chimera in order to protect me. I clearly remember the reluctance and relief in its eyes. Isn't it ironic that a gorilla actually has more intense emotions than intelligent creatures? Haha... haha, it's so funny..."

Hemit laughed loudly, but his eyes were filled with tears. He trembled as he took out a pale yellow tooth from his arms, slowly raised it, and said to Ayr:

"From that day on, I swore that if I didn't have enough strength, I would never look for a new wilderness companion in my life..."

...

The memory ended here, and Ayr sighed, his eyes full of relief.

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"Hemit likes this giant turtle very much..."

"Are you saying... he wants to catch this turtle as a pet?"

"It's a partner!"

Hemit, who had been eavesdropping on everyone's conversation, turned his head and said to Kaelin with dissatisfaction.

"Lord Ayr, can you help me?"

Hemit looked at Ayr with hope, but the young man shook his head with a wry smile and pointed to the treant girl beside him.

The old dwarf, as if he were a different person, smiled at Milune beside him.

"Milune, can you help me?"

"Mm."

Milune looked at the dense iron nails on the giant turtle's back and said sadly.

"Thank you!"

Hemit gratefully wanted to take Milune's hand, but the girl shyly avoided it.

"Hehe... heh heh..."

Hemit glanced at Ayr imperceptibly and laughed sheepishly.

"Let's begin!"

"Mm."

...

After a long time, Hemit carefully pulled out the last iron nail from the giant turtle's back.

Supported by Ayr, Milune was somewhat exhausted as she released pale green energy, the same natural divine power as Ayr.

After a flash of light, the giant turtle let out a joyful roar, and a layer of flesh gradually grew on its originally bloody back, no longer oozing blood.

The giant turtle affectionately nuzzled the dwarf's head and licked the dwarf's cheek with its open jaws.

"Hey, you rascal!"

Hemit cursed, but he laughed non-stop, and everyone clearly felt the long-lost joy from him.

"Big guy, are you willing to be Old Hemit's partner?"

Hemit stroked the giant turtle's head, whispering as if to a lover.

"Huff..."

The giant turtle snorted two puffs of white air from its nostrils, as if it understood the old dwarf's words.

"Haha, from now on you are Hemit's wilderness partner. Oh, let me give you a nice name!"

"So you have a name, Gamora? That's terrible. Oh well, okay, okay, I get it."