Orc Tyrant

In the deserted and dark underground cave in Irvine City, the hunter breathed out slowly.

The time has come.

opportunity.

The illusion flashed in his mind, like a broken and misplaced image input. Ever since he accepted the gift, the illusion has been flashing in his mind—about the future, about all possibilities, about the next moment, and beyond. moment.

It was these visions that gradually drove him into madness.

However, the visions that appeared in front of him at the moment were clean and neat, bearable, and tolerable. They were not nightmare-like omens, and they did not show him the burning world and the future of escape into the doomsday.

That decadent **** scene often appeared in his mind, and eventually made him confused, so that any life, whether it was his own or someone else's, was already worthless.

The hunter breathed cautiously, and the vision flashing in his bloodshot eyes was stable and reliable.

He knows who he is: a lord of darkness, a fallen soul, and a shadow blade.

"Bruce Wayne."

He muttered to himself in a low voice, chanting his name like a prayer and blessing.

Prayer and blessing, or death sentence.

He fully knew his identity and goals. At this moment, in the desperate and **** years, Bruce had a clearer and more perfect understanding of his goals than anyone in Shadow Blade.

The cruel void has shown everything to him, as his old friend and tormentor, the vast ocean has shown everything to him, and his dreams have shown everything to him.

Fear, pain, and faith collapse.

Everyone has to pay the price.

Everyone, every soul, every individual, they will all scream with him.

The load-bearing steel beams screamed and groaned around him, as if a mountain was collapsing. Bruce knew it had happened. He had foreseen it. He knew that the illusion was almost inevitable.

The gang of nerds at Tianfeng College were unwilling to abandon their so-called dignity. They wanted to die with those ancient stones and burn them with their stale classics.

Very good, at least they did it.

wizard.

Bruce wanted to spit at the thought of those self-righteous idiots. They always thought that their little tricks could do something, but this was clearly useless in the ensuing battle.

Idiots, reptiles, idiots, as bad as stubborn stones, so confidently believe in their own power, full of unbearable sense of honor.

Then let them bear the price themselves, children.

They all have to pay, they all have to see the truth, the truth that only Bruce knows.

Only he, only he can knock them down in flames and fear, until they are as fragmented as himself, if his life is long enough, Bruce is looking forward to his end, he can't ask for it.

But before that, he has more goals.

Guk.

Destiny made him the number one target close at hand, and Guk is a sign that needs to be overthrown and smashed.

Guk, and his kingdom will fall together.

Bruce closed his eyes.

The illusion began to emerge. He saw the corpses in the streets of Irvine City, he saw the tall buildings and spires burning, he saw blood, he saw—

Those scarlet illusions flooded him like arterial blood spurting out. He remained calm. It is too early to lose his mind. He has work to complete and maintains a certain concentration. Anger is only useful when turned into a weapon. The same is true of fear.

He knows both.

The time has come, it is time to leave this hiding place.

Now that Oak has actually occupied this place, it is incredible that the weak councillors and mayor surrendered to these beasts.

Even more incredible is that these green skins actually accepted it, but a more terrifying future awaits the weak, Bruce can see.

Saving the weak is no longer his first task.

First he has to rush out of this place, and then he has to rush into Aven. A warlord of Ouk is a very good target. The characteristics of these creatures determine that they cannot lose their leader.

But in the same way, he had never really faced a warlord, and he knew nothing about their power.

Bruce felt helpless for a while.

The illusion surged in his mind like a river, and the water was full of reflections.

He trusts these most, because they are almost always true, and only when fate accidentally moves its back, this illusion will become a false promise.

He can usually get rid of the false and save the truth. He can always find doubtful elements. He always keeps in mind that he is taking risks. For any illusion, he must judge its authenticity and measure its reliability.

When he decides whether to rely on a certain illusion, he will accept the wrong decision frankly.

The current series of illusions seemed extremely reliable, and Bruce decided to follow their prompts.

One of the illusions lingered: a rusty image, a closed door to the outside world, a mark.

He smiled.

Sixteen minutes later, Bruce opened the door of the No. 13 entrance on the second floor of the sewer and went outside the passage.

The torn fence door crashed off and fell into the dazzling city with bright fragments. Bruce saw the world below illuminated by the rising moon, and he saw the sharpness of all shadows under strong contrast. Marginal.

This is a harsh, sharp dark night.

He put on his helmet again, rushed out of the cliff like a bat, and strode lightly along the covered bridge. The biting cold made him excited.

This was below Tianfeng Academy. He could see many corpses hanging on the dilapidated outer wall of the Academy. Most of them were dressed in robes and fluttered gently in the evening wind like bacon under the eaves.

Those wizards got the ending they wanted, which is good.

Bruce squatted by a side door, waiting for it to open. He had received an omen that an Ouke patrol team would appear from the front.

It took them eighteen seconds.

Amid the noise, a group of Ok, holding a torch, walked up, but as soon as the light gushed out, Shadowblade tilted his body back so that he was not immediately noticed.

However, it was not a formal team. It was a group of scavengers with half-full pockets on their shoulders. Obviously they came here to fill the pockets behind them. .

Bruce shrugged, sometimes those visions are not entirely reliable.

In any case, he always kills them.

The first Oke stepped into the shadow of the covered bridge. He held the stick tightly in one hand and the passage guardrail in the other.

Bruce lunged at it swiftly, like a shark launching a surprise attack on swimmers, under this ferocious blow, no one could survive.

At the moment Ouke appeared from the shadows, the sharp claws snatched its throat, and large drops of blood swayed into the sky.