Azeroth Monster Manual
#13 - Mosh Hunting Project
Staring blankly at the semi-transparent system interface in front of him:
Name: Al Salona
Race: High Elf
Class: 6-Ring Archmage {Epic}
Intelligence: Approximately = 0.00001 Sargeras
Endurance: Approximately = 3.9 Salorean Sunseekers
Strength: Approximately = 0.9 Salorean Sunseekers
Spirit: Approximately = 8.9 Fondreols
Agility: Approximately = 2.6 Annett Sanguinars
Spell Power: Approximately = 1.8 Anasterian Sunstriders
Al: Are you kidding me? What kind of immortal measurement units are these?
The Measurement Units: Blame me?
'This seemingly absurd attribute panel seems to hide something.'
"That's right, how did I not think of that?" Al exclaimed, slapping his palm with his fist in sudden realization.
'Except for intelligence, the measurement units for the other attributes are all top-tier Quel'Thalas powerhouses, but the measurement unit for intelligence is Sargeras, and only a negligible 1/100,000th.
Does this mean… my main attribute has far surpassed all the high-ranking members of Quel'Thalas? Also, why isn't Grandpa included in the measurement units?'
Belovar Salona: Thanks a lot.
…
A moist breeze blew, awakening Al from his contemplation. Turning his head to survey the surroundings, Al decided to wander around to see if he could find new materials.
After all, the Angor Crater teleportation beacon was bought at a high price from Thassarian Bloodwatcher.
Although that artifact peddler from the Holy Relic Society told him that the coordinates had a slight deviation, Al didn't care. He would take a shot whether he thought it would work or not.
"Finally arrived at Angor Crater, things are getting interesting."
…
The pervasive fog obscured Al's path forward. In such a low-visibility environment, Al decided to walk on foot. He slung the legendary staff, which had already changed form, onto his back and stepped into the unknown territory ahead.
… …
"Huff, huff, damn it…"
A stout, short figure was running through this wild forest, his face filled with panic. He looked back from time to time, as if some terrifying thing was chasing him. Suddenly, he inadvertently stepped his right foot into the dirty mud.
"Damn it, damn it, is old Hermit's hunting career going to end here? Titans above!"
The dwarf painfully squatted on the ground, trying to pull out his right leg that was stuck in the swamp.
"Rumble, rumble, crack"
A series of violent roars came from far and near, accompanied by the sound of branches being broken.
A behemoth appeared in the dwarf's sight, a giant Devilasaur with brown stripes on its hide.
Its vicious little eyes were staring intently at the prey in front of it. Its bloody mouth opened wide, and the uneven, dense teeth gleamed with a chilling light.
The look of horror on the dwarf's face slowly disappeared. He had already accepted his fate.
He took something out of his chest, a bronze pocket watch. A photo of a boy was embedded in the watch cover. He said softly with gentle eyes:
"Sorry, son, I'm not a good father."
Before he finished speaking, he raised the double-barreled shotgun at his waist and pulled the trigger at the Devilasaur in front of him.
"Bang"
After a violent gunshot, the Devilasaur fell to the ground with a bang.
Wisps of green smoke floated from the muzzle, obscuring the dwarf's vision.
Just now, a blurry figure appeared out of thin air at the feet of the Devilasaur.
The small teenager was in stark contrast to the behemoth that was several stories high.
The Devilasaur roared loudly at the 'little guy' in front of it. Saliva dripped from its bloody mouth onto the green grass, corroding small, foul-smelling pits in an instant.
The Devilasaur's saliva was obviously highly corrosive.
→
"Too noisy."
A light purple light flashed, and the teenager had already appeared parallel to the giant beast's huge head.
"Die!"
The delicate fist turned into an afterimage and quickly struck the center of the Tyrannosaurus's forehead.
With a shrill whimper, the behemoth crashed to the ground, and the dwarf's gunshot rang out at the same time.
…
"You're very brave, huh? Dwarf."
The figure slowly stepped on the corpse of the Devilasaur.
"I…you…you"
The dwarf slumped on the ground, uttering some incoherent syllables.
"What's your name?"
The smoke gradually dissipated, revealing the true face of the mysterious man standing on the beast's corpse. It was Al.
"Cat got your tongue?"
As Al spoke, he carefully examined the huge corpse.
"I…my name is Hermit Nesingwary, M…Master."
"So it's you, kid. I didn't recognize you for a moment. Where's your hunting squad?"
"You recognize me?"
Hermit had a beautiful beard that was very characteristic of dwarves. His face was red and he wore a monocle on his left eye.
But unlike Al's memory, this middle-aged man was not yet old. His thick black hair made Al sigh: It's a pity that Azeroth doesn't have the 996 blessing.
Seeing that the elven teenager in front of him not only did not answer him, but instead began to carefully examine the Devilasaur's corpse, Hermit continued:
"Master, I come from Ironforge and I'm a hunter. Ten months ago, I was entrusted by a Stormwind employer to come here to hunt a Devilasaur named Mosh.
But that damn nobleman didn't give us accurate information. Mosh isn't an ordinary beast, but a ferocious monster comparable to an epic warrior.
My brothers…all died under that beast's claws."
The dwarf looked dim and forced himself to finish his story with suppressed anger.
"Well, that's a sad past. Do you want revenge, Mr. Hunter?"
"You, what did you say?"
"I said, do you want revenge?"
"Is it possible? Master"
Hermit struggled to pull his right foot out of the mud, and asked excitedly.
"If you want revenge, follow me. By the way, you have to carry the head of this Devilasaur for me. My space backpack is really too small to fit it."
"Yes! Sir!"
Nesingwary couldn't hide his excitement and strode towards the Devilasaur's corpse, which had been dismembered by Al.
… …
"Hermit, are you interested in working for me?"
"As long as you can help me avenge, old Hermit is willing to follow your orders."
"Don't be so restrained. I know your ideal is to become a hunting master, and that coincides with my plan. Follow me, and the title of Hunting Master will be yours one day."
"Yes, sir."
"Didn't you eat? Louder."
"Yes! Sir!"
Nesingwary shouted loudly. The dwarf's natural loud voice shook the birds on the branches and they flew away one after another.
"Good, very energetic."
A beautiful arc appeared on the corner of Al's mouth as he followed old Hermit out of the fog.
PS: Thanks to a Milan Dynasty a and Production Team's Who for the rewards. During the new book recommendation period, the author is shamelessly asking for votes and collections here.
Thank you~
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