Overlord: Start from the Goblin Lair

"Have we... met before?" Scythe stared at Seymour blankly, but he really couldn't remember his name and appearance.

He had handled countless slaves, including many drow, and it was really difficult for Scythe to remember and recognize the differences between those dark faces.

Not to mention that Seymour had long since gotten rid of his slave status. Now he was full of energy, and the robe he wore was made of the best fabric, not just a piece of rag that could only cover his shame.

"I've been 'trained' by you before, don't you remember?" Seymour looked at him with some disappointment, "What a pity, I thought I could give you some small shock."

"Your memory is just like your wisdom, they are desperately chasing you, but you are running too fast."

"What nonsense are you talking about... you?!" The sickle took a long time to react and the half-orc who felt humiliated immediately jumped away a few steps and stood quickly in the center of the training ground, "You dirty dark elf, I remember you!"

"You dare to come back and want to 'visit'? Well, well, come on! Come over here, let me teach you another lesson!"

The huge sickle scratched a white mark on the stone brick, and the sickle itself rushed towards Seymour kept growling threateningly: "You fool who fell into a trap, roll over here and die!"

"I taught you all these skills, and you actually want to use them against me?!"

"You are even more shameless than the meanest priest of Rose in the Underdark," Seymour frowned and pulled out his weapon from his waist, "My benefactor, can I peel off his face? Then you can have a golden shield."

"I would rather not, but... go," Ron shook his head slightly, "This is your business, I will stand here and make sure you succeed."

"Thank you for your grace, it's my honor." The drow assassin stopped talking nonsense, his figure instantly turned into a white shadow, and in broad daylight, he spread his wings like an eagle and swooped down on the sickle!

"Dangdangdangdang——"

In just a few seconds, countless sparks flashed on the giant sickle that was hastily swung up, and Seymour's short blade flipped and flickered around him. As long as the sickle showed a little flaw, it would be peeled and sliced ​​like a potato.

However, this half-orc was indeed quite capable. The rhythm on the battlefield was completely controlled by Seymour, but he was still able to defend himself impeccably and counterattack Seymour from time to time.

The giant sickle was powerful and difficult to dodge. Whenever the sickle fought back, Seymour had to give in a little before he could look for an opportunity to suppress the sickle again.

"Ron, why don't you let me go too!" Seeing that Seymour was unable to take down the sickle, Sera was the first to give up. She took the initiative to ask Ron to let her join the battlefield.

"This is Seymour's own revenge. You have to let him do it himself." Ron waved his hand, signaling Sera to stay calm.

Because he was sure that the sickle would not be able to swallow this breath of repression by a slave who had been tortured by him, and he would definitely choose to break this situation first.

"Damn it!" As expected, after Scythe once again risked his life to force Seymour back, the orc could no longer endure such a slow death. He shouted at the slaves and other instructors and foremen who were pretending to be training but actually observing the situation, "Come here and help me kill him!"

"If you still dare to stand by and watch, you will die when I have time!"

Needless to say, the instructors and foremen who were already in the same boat with Scythe, seeing that Scythe was gradually losing the upper hand, they also picked up their weapons and rushed towards Seymour and even Ron and others. The slaves had already succumbed to the various instructors, and the brief ideological struggle was fleeting under the tyranny of Scythe. They also dared to approach Seymour who was still fighting with Scythe.

And what about Ron?

"It's finally my turn this time!" Seeing that Scythe was not a man of honor, the barbarian happily took off the Grip of Canglan, "Ron, you can't stop me now!"

"I don't have time to stop you!" Ron pulled a short bow, and an arrow with a touch of frost flew out of the bowstring. After piercing the throat of a foreman, the ghost-like bone hand with the biting cold of the tomb solidified the blood in his body.

At the same time, several other people also took out their weapons that had been prepared long ago, and launched a long-planned offensive against these Carolina people who were already unfamiliar with fighting.

In the eyes of Scythe and others, Ron's delegation did not bring the masters of Rose City this time, which was a good time for them to attack. But isn't this also true for Ron and others?

Without having to consider the face of a third party, the people from the Delusion Land can be said to be fully fired. Even after this chaos, you can still see a pale elf wandering between swords and knives, and the thorn chain in his hand ruthlessly harvesting every soul.

The slaves, who were originally a mob, quickly began to flee, but what neither Ron nor Scythe nor even the slaves expected was that the instructors actually ran faster than their slaves!

"Yelena, catch up with them, don't let any of them escape!" Ron shouted, and the strong acid arrow shot out of the bowstring. The ankle of a panicked instructor was corroded instantly, and he fell to the ground in horror, watching the thorn chain lock his neck.

"Aren't you afraid that you can't leave Carolina by doing this?!" Scythe was completely panicked at this moment. He lingered in Seymour's hands with a messy step, threatening Ron with a cowardly look.

"That's why I don't plan to leave anyone alive," Ron chuckled. "As long as you don't leave any witnesses, I have the final say on what happens here?"

"Seymour, make a quick decision!"

"Okay!" Seymour agreed loudly, and the pair of short blades in his hands suddenly lit up with the aura of strong acid enchantment!

"Chi——" The weapon of the sickle is just an ordinary one, how can it withstand such a blow? With just one blow, the metal part of the giant sickle was corroded and a gap appeared. The sickle wanted to resist, but was kicked in the chin by Seymour in the air, and fell on his back on the training ground.

"You just lent him the gem?" Sylvia looked at Driver in surprise.

"I don't want to borrow Ron's arrangement," Driver grinned, "but it looks like it works well."

"Damn it! How could you enchant your own weapon?!" Scythe, who was lying on the ground, kept crawling back with his hands and feet, trying to avoid Seymour's fatal blow. The drow assassin was not in a hurry, and the strong acid weapon stabbed at the vital points of Scythe's body, leaving several deep wounds that could be seen to the bone in an instant.

"Don't worry, I won't let you die quickly," Seymour sneered, "After all, 'you taught me all my skills.'"