Azeroth Shadow Trail

   Chapter 682 13. Release the gladiator in your heart

  Rexxar took back the relic of his beloved war beast from Blake. He, a low-key social phobia patient, made a rare publicity under the influence of alcohol.

   In this cedar forest deep in Alterac, he "performed" for Black the legendary power called "King of Beasts".

  The stinky pirate has opened his eyes today.

   But he believed that not only did he open his eyes, even Windrunner mother or old Hemet would be shocked by Rexxar's wild power.

   This is beyond what a hunter can do.

  This is no longer the realm of pure hunting, and Black suspects that Rexxar may have entered some kind of natural realm similar to Druid without a teacher.

   This is indeed no longer something that can be achieved by skill and hard work. This is a "wilderness miracle" that can only be achieved with the support of talent.

   The summoning of a group of beasts like the one in front of him, Black reckoned that it would be difficult for even an arch druid to do it as easily as Rexxar.

  Thinking of this, Kilrogg's Eye on Blake's shoulder flipped quietly, and he "looked" at Hisari Crow standing on a cedar branch.

   The smart bird was already stunned. She maintained a posture of half-opened wings, the feathers on her neck blew up, and her dark eyes were round.

   was obviously intimidated by Rexxar's move.

   This is a decent Druid of the Cenarion Order, and he was shocked to this point, which is enough to show the power of the legendary orc "Batman" in front of him.

   But Black has seen the world in the end.

   He complained in his heart that when he was in the game, any hunter player could learn the power of this "running beast", and it's not surprising.

   But after thinking about it, the players in the game can still form a group of 25 people to kill the fallen titans. Who can do such a thing in reality?

   Looking for twenty-five demigods to challenge the fallen titans is nothing more than delivering food to others.

   "Well, very scary, bro."

  Blake spread out his hands and said to Rexxar with sincerity:

   "I admit I was freaked out, look, my arms and legs are shaking."

   "This joke is not funny."

  Rexxar patted Misha on the head, he glanced at Black, and said:

   "You have only shock in your heart, but no fear, which proves that even if I use this power to deal with you, you still have a way to escape. You are the one who makes people feel terrified.

   You have not yet summed up your own legendary power, but you are already strong to this extent.

   Once you really get to the level of legendary power, I will not be your match.

  I'm very happy now that we are friends. "

   Having said that, the orc hunter moved his shoulders a little uncomfortable. It seemed that the word "friend" made him uncomfortable. After a few seconds, Rexxar asked in a low voice:

   "We're already friends, right?"

   "Well, of course."

  Black pouted and said:

   "Those people I can't kill are my friends. Are you leaving now?"

   When he asked this question, the orc hunter had already turned around and walked several steps. Rexxar glanced back at Black and then at the scattered beasts around him.

He says:

   "My hunt here is over, I have no reason to stay here. But Misha loves the cold climate of the mountains, and maybe I'll stay here for a few more days."

   "Or you can do something other than just hanging out, something you don't hate."

  Black pointed to the direction of the Frostwolf Clan's base camp and said:

   "Don't you hate war?

   Well, I came here this time to prevent the dispute between the orcs and humans from renewing. Uh, don't show that look, I do get in the mood every now and then and do something 'good' in the traditional sense.

  The assassinated Drek'Thar has woken up, and we brought Kargath back. He is enough to prove that the intensification of this war comes from the planning and instigation of an organization that has been destroyed but is not dead.

   There is no need to fight to the death like the beasts in the Colosseum for the conspiracy of others.

  The Frostwolf clan is about to embark on a great migration, this is to save your compatriots, and those orcs who have been in seclusion for seven years are not the slaughter and destroyer you hate.

  Perhaps, you can use your knowledge of this land to **** their evacuation?

   Think of it as the last thing you do for your people before you leave the Eastern Continent and explore beyond civilization.

   What do you say? "

"Um"

  Rexxar hesitated for a moment, and under Blake's stunned gaze, he looked at Misha and whispered a few words in the ear of the big bear, as if asking.

  Misha, the giant bear who was said to have been blessed by magic, let out a snarl.

   The smelly pirate could see clearly, a sly light flashed in the eyes of the brown giant bear with a hint of gray.

   "You smell like honey."

  Rexxar said to Blake a little embarrassed:

   "Misha is usually very good, I don't know why it is today"

   "It's okay, honey."

  Blake grinned, and he gave a fierce "stare" at the giant bear who pretended to be just a cute big bear, didn't know anything, squatted on the ground and licked his claws, covering up the change in his eyes.

  The pirate took the large jar of honey he carried with him from his luggage.

  This is the best royal jelly in the world of Azeroth, bought by the Albatross Merchant from Stormsong Valley. It was Dajiao's snack, but now it was handed to Misha by the smelly pirate with both hands.

   "Ouch!"

   Dajiao saw that his "treasure" was snatched away by another stinky bear, very dissatisfied, and Frostpaw was also beside him to help Dajiao.

   But Misha glanced at them both contemptuously, and Shi Shiran took the fragrant honey with her claws.

   patted open the lid in front of Big Horn, dipped the thick amber honey of his paw with his fat bear paw, stretched out his barbed tongue, and licked it.

  It also knows that good things cannot be eaten all at once.

   After licking his paws, he showed a look of satisfaction and enjoyment, and pushed the remaining honey to Rexxar, signaling him to keep it for himself. Then he snorted at Rexxa.

   This means that she is also interested in going to the Frostwolf Orcs, where she might be able to eat Orc-style roast lamb.

All right.

   Black blinked.

   He was the key to figuring out how to deal with Rexxar.

   The key is not what Rexxar thinks. When he hesitates about something, as long as he finds a way to get Misha the bear, everything will be ok.

so.

  Misha, you must be a legendary druid, wandering around the world with your **** shoveler, Rekshaman, right?

   Tucao returns to Tucao.

   It is indeed a good thing to be able to call Rexxar for help.

  Black has his own plans.

   Even if Rexxar's legendary power, which is purely based on talent, cannot be imitated, he may be able to learn more secret skills of Mok'Nasa's animal taming from Rexxar.

   There are very few legendary hunters in this world, and even fewer are proficient in animal taming. How can you miss it?

   With this slightly utilitarian idea, Black smiled, and together with Rexxar, who was as silent as a gourd, the two hunters walked out of the cedar forest with six beasts with their own characteristics and different styles.

   Not far ahead, a black warg was waiting on the hillside with his master.

Varok Saurfang was grinding his black iron battle axe with a slightly curled blade beside the Warwolf. Beside him, Kargath Bladefist with a stunned face was tightly bound by chains. sitting there.

   The iconic ferocious blade fist on his broken arm has been taken down by the legendary warrior, and all the "little bits and pieces" on his body have also been thrown on the ground.

  From bone throwing axes, to steel hand axes, to blow darts and throwing knives, as well as several viciously shaped daggers, as well as a lot of colorful bottles.

   These things are all poisoned without exception.

   This heavily armed Kargath Bladefist is a walking killing machine, but the killing machine is in bad shape right now, and Black and Rexxar's collaboration has left him covered in wounds.

   But the most dangerous fatal injury came from Varok Saurfang's charged execution. The axe just now nearly smashed the embarrassed Kargath into the head.

   In fact, in the previous situation, Varok Saurfang was completely able to do such a thing.

   Warriors like him would not have left the vile and depraved life of Kargath Bladefist, had it not been to prove the conspiracy to the Frostwolf clan. Even among the older orc chieftains, Bladefist was not a likable fellow.

   When the old tribes set foot on Azeroth before, even the brutal Blackhand Great Chief did not take the Warsong clan and the Shattered Hand clan with great combat power to attack the new world.

   On the one hand, Blackhand doesn't think he can control the raging Grom Hellscream and the Berserkers of the Warsong clan.

   On the other hand, even the unscrupulous guy like Blackhand and the Shadow Council and Gul'dan behind him don't like the madmen of the Shattered Hand clan, and their sadistic madman chiefs.

   These two great clans who were left in the world of Draenor waiting to die did not regret and reflect on their inability to participate in the war.

  The old tribe didn't take them to play, they "played" by themselves.

It is said that during the six-year orc war, in the world of Draenor, the two clans, the Warsong and the Shattered Hand, fought each other for fun. The war between the two crazy clans almost wiped out all that remained in several areas of the world of Draenor. All razed to the ground.

   "No one wants these things, right?"

  Black stepped forward, squatted on the ground, and checked the various small bits and pieces taken from Kargath. He stroked the poisoned bone dagger and put it on his fingertips, feeling its perfect balance.

He says:

   "Then I took it, no one objected?"

  Rexxar and Varok had no objection to this, while the frail Kargath Bladefist, who was tied there, let out some sneers of disdain.

   This beautiful orc man with flowing black hair said in a low and sarcastic voice:

   "As a master assassin, Black Shaw, don't you even have the ability to make weapons yourself? You are a wild dog who only picks up bones and eats them!

  Be careful when using my weapon, if you accidentally cut your hand, you can

   Hehe, the poison I made, I can't solve it myself! "

   "Really? I doubt it."

  Black played with the bone knife in his hand, glanced at Kargath, flashed past with a whoosh, and stabbed the poisoned flying knife into Kargath's shoulder wound with a puff.

   This action shocked the two people beside him.

   And the smelly pirate looked at Kargath Bladefist whose face changed greatly, he stood up with his hips on his hips, stretched his voice and said:

   "Hey, you are now poisoned with the poison that you can't cure yourself. If you are enough to see death, then I naturally have nothing to do.

   But if you don't want to die now"

  The pirate leaned down and "looked" at Kargath's round eyes, he said with a smile:

   "I can help you configure the antidote, as long as you tell me what materials you need, I'll be happy to help. Oh, your face is starting to turn blue, my friend.

   There is not much time for you to hesitate. "

   Speaking, the pirate Shi Shiran also took out his elf-style magic book, preparing to record the recipes of Kargath's unique assassin poison and antidote.

   But after thinking about it, I felt that this kind of thing recorded in the magic book is somewhat out of style, and the style does not match well.

   So Black took out his notebook, summoned a magic pen, and the Eye of Kilrogg on his shoulder flipped, staring at the shivering Shattered Hand Chief.

  Well, it's also possible that the toxin was on the move, making Kargath's tired body start to tremble.

   "Go ahead, I'm listening."

  Blake said softly and softly:

   "You can recklessly use cruelty and viciousness to cover up your confused heart in front of other people, but this is not necessary in front of me, a prophet.

  You have never been a person who sees death as his own.

   You know this very well.

   I know that too.

  You developed the weird and contradictory character you have now when you were taken as a slave gladiator by the ogres of Highmaul when you were young.

  You can fight for freedom by severing your own wrist with a stone flake.

  You can call upon the gladiators to follow your rage with self-mutilation.

  You can take them to kill all the slave owners who watch you fight for fun.

  You can build your clan with one talent.

   You can become famous all over Draenor, and be regarded by the orcs as a hero of resistance and freedom.

   But that's just a disguise.

  In your heart, you will always be a gladiator struggling to survive in the arena of Highmaul!

  You never changed.

  I heard that you built a big arena among the Broken Hands clan, and all the poor creatures caught by you must fight a hundred enemies in it to be free.

  You admire those mighty gladiators, whom you see as the mainstay of your clan.

However.

   That should be the thing you hate the most, but it becomes a game for you to show your strength and pass the time. The former slave turned over, but made himself a more hateful slave owner.

   Those shackles that should have made you feel ashamed, but you have carefully decorated them as symbols of sadism, and you have done more than the "masters" who died at your hands.

Ha ha. "

  Black sneered, he leaned down, and said in the ear of Kargath Bladefist who was vomiting blood:

   "I know you better than you do yourself, and I know that the most glorious thing in your heart is not being chief of the Broken Hand.

   It was the day when you killed your 100th opponent in the arena of the ogres, and you were named the 'Gladiator Champion' by the deceased leader Margok himself.

   You are a pathetic man, Kargath.

   Your body has long been free, but your heart has always been in the dark cell of the arena. You could have been stronger, but unfortunately there is no goal in your heart that you can pursue.

   All the decisions you have made over the years, and every war you have gone through, are just drifting with the flow.

   I think that's probably why you succumbed to Jorazie Ravenholdt so easily.

  You are a champion gladiator who lives for the praise of others, and you are hailed as a symbol of freedom, but you have no idea what those two words mean.

   I find you very sad.

   But that doesn't stop me from using you. If you can submit to Ravenholdt, then you can also submit to me.

   So, do you want to join my pirate party?

  If you like gladiatorial fighting, I can build you the craziest and most majestic arena in Azeroth.

How about it?

  My offer was much more generous than that of His Excellency the Duke. Besides, what's the point of following a dying man? So, think about it. "

   (end of this chapter)