Remember in one second to provide you with wonderful novels to read. Occasionally, there will be abnormally strong people among trolls. Some mutated guys have almost no physical characteristics similar to their compatriots except for the pair of big tusks. If they were in human society, the titles of monsters and deformed children would accompany them throughout their miserable lives. But in the troll society, these mutants are tolerated and cared for by their fellow humans.
Quasimodo is such a mutant troll.
Quasimo, who is 280 tall, weighs 380, and has an arm length of 480, can eat half a bear in one meal. Even during times of famine, the tribe did not give up on him, which gave the mutants a strong sense of belonging and identification with Amani and Zul'Aman. Even if he can't find a suitable match, the love from his brothers is still like a clear spring nourishing Quasimodo's lonely heart.
No one knows that this monster, which can tear apart tigers with its hands, spends its free time honing its fighting skills and its hobby is growing flowers.
But today, now, on the battlefield of life and death, Quasimodo hated himself especially.
I hate myself for not spending my time planting flowers and even eating and sleeping on training.
The human in front of me is the real monster!
It clearly only reaches his chest, his arms are much thinner than his own, and they clearly look white and tender. Why is he so powerful, why does he move so fast, and why is he not afraid of himself?
Slightly distracted, the human struck Quasimodo on the shoulder with an axe.
Unfortunately, the tight muscles still did not block the sharp edge of the axe. The left arm could no longer use its strength. It would take at least a minute to recover.
Quasimodo sank sharply, contracted the muscles of the injured area with all his strength, made a fist with his right hand and swept it across, successfully forcing the human back.
Holding the ax handle, Quasimodo pulled out the sharp weapon on his shoulder, and blood spurted out. I moved the numb wound and used the muscles to stop the bleeding. The troll's powerful regeneration ability took effect, for up to two minutes. The wound will heal completely.
The ax unexpectedly joined hands, Quasimodo showed a bloodthirsty look, and lost his weapon, what are you going to do? Fight with me?
The human actually smiled, refused the other weapons his companion handed him, and clenched his fists. Did he really want to fight me hand-to-hand?
Quasimodo was angry, you are insulting me. Humanity!
Regardless of the fact that the wound had not healed, Quasimodo rushed forward like an angry cleft-hoofed bull, and raised the ax five meters away from his enemy, so that he could use the most comfortable posture to hit him hard in the next step. Go down and smash that hateful pretty boy into a pulp.
Mysterious truth, 100% chance of taking the sword with bare hands! ! !
Quasimodo was surprised to find emerald wings sprouting from his opponent's back, and then clasped his hands together to catch his slash.
This is impossible! Even with one hand, I, Cassidomo, can smash rocks with one punch. How can you catch my axe?
After blinking, Quasimodo found that the emerald wings turned into little stars and disappeared. Then his hands were empty, and the opponent in front of him suddenly disappeared.
This is right, an illusion, everything just now was an illusion, I must have masturbated too much last night.
Although Quasimodo's body staggered as the ax fell heavily, the mutant troll felt relieved.
Then, feeling pain in his right ankle, Quasimodo lost his balance and fell heavily to the ground.
Damn it. When did he come around behind me?
When Quasimodo fell to the ground, he adjusted his posture, used the inertia to forcefully retract the ax and struck it horizontally, and organized his opponent to pursue him while he fell to the ground.
It worked. The human jumped away.
But because his left shoulder landed on the ground, the wound that had just stopped bleeding burst open again, and blood spread all over the floor again.
Forcibly supporting the ground with his weak left hand, and using a burst of aimless chops as a cover, Quasimodo reluctantly stood up, but he was also panting from exhaustion.
His opponent stood ten meters away and looked at him with his arms folded. A smile on the lips.
You are asking for death!
The sudden rage triggered the power hidden in his blood, and Quasimodo entered a state of blood rage. His whole body felt relaxed, and the pain seemed to be far away from him.
"Human, you have to pay the price!"
Quasimodo wanted to vent his anger crazily. He wanted to break the ax in his hand to vent his anger, but found that it could not be broken or even bent.
"Tastingo."
Hearing that this human actually spoke Troll language, Quasimodo was stunned for a moment, and then thought about it with his remaining rationality.
welcome?
What's welcome?
Damn it, you dare to despise me!
go to hell!
Quasimodo held the ax in both hands, jumped up high, and chopped it down with his hand.
However, his enemy was not intimidated by his huge power, and instead pulled out the hunting knife on his thigh.
He was struck empty, and judging from the feeling, he should have had a large gash from his armpit to his waist.
But what the heck, it doesn’t hurt anyway, on the contrary it feels a little good.
After Quasimodo landed, he punched again with his backhand, forcing the enemy back again, and then stepped forward, vowing to cut the enemy in two.
How can it be? How can such a big man be so flexible?
Seeing the short human body dodge his sweeping trajectory, he lowered his head again and saw that there was already a knife handle on his chest.
Stupid, how could such a short knife hurt me? I am Quasimodo with three hearts!
Unfortunately, the mutated troll didn't have time to sneer. Two human hands had already grasped the handle of the knife on his chest and pulled it horizontally.
There was a pop, even though the effect of Blood Frenzy blocked the pain, Quasimodo still felt it was painful.
Immediately afterwards, from the right shoulder to the right hip, the blade collided with Quasimodo's ribs, opening another wound with a crisp sound.
Quasimodo has since become a troll with a cross scar on his chest.
You are seeking death!
At this distance, there was no way he could miss it!
Quasimodo showed a bloodthirsty smile, regardless of the blood spurting out from pulling the muscles of the wound, he just wanted to split the annoying little guy in front of him in half, eat half tonight and half tomorrow morning.
But how is that possible?
He actually caught his own wrist with one hand?
He actually grabbed the ax handle and ripped off his fingers?
Quasimodo used his left hand and threw a left hook. He said "Those who offend me are in danger," but it felt like it hit an iron plate.
"Hello and goodbye."
Although the blood rage gave the monster in front of him the endurance to endure pain and the ability to move regardless of damage. However, a wound is a wound. One's own perception can be deceived, but the physical laws of this world cannot be deceived.
Carlos clearly felt that the monster's strength was decreasing. Its madness is just overdrawing its own physical strength.
When he felt that he was almost done, Carlos stopped playing and decided to use a death method suitable for a warrior to give this enemy who made him feel the pleasure of life and death a dignified death.
He kicked the mutated troll's calf, and the troll's knee hit the ground with huge kinetic energy. The meniscus should have been shattered.
Throw the arcane ax into the sky. With a strange cry of "ah da da da da da da da da da da", Carlos fired dozens of punches containing the power of the Holy Light within a few seconds, completely paralyzing the troll's joints and hair. Strength muscles.
Taking a deep breath, leaping high and stepping on the troll's shoulders, Carlos caught the Arcanite Axe, spread out the wings of Holy Light again, changed the direction of the force, and slashed a powerful weapon without using any force. one strike.
It turns out that after being beheaded, the blood can really surge so high.
In the spare time after landing, Carlos inexplicably remembered the controversy about "The Injustice of Dou E".
"Gou Tajin, you call him the strongest man who is brave enough to surpass Amani. Is he this kind of reckless man who only has brute strength? Although I have never fought against each other, my intuition tells me that you can fight two of these guys. "
Carlos complained dissatisfied. Time was running out, and with the five-day return date approaching, Carlos was no longer allowed to continue his hunting trip. Although the enemy in front of him is not mediocre, in a one-on-one challenge with this kind of legion combat weapon, the weakness of lack of agility is fatal. What's more, in terms of strength, this mutant troll only has an advantage. Not to be crushed.
"Boss. Quasimodo is the strongest troll in the world, not to mention this is just an accident. Originally, his sister Esmeralda should have been a good opponent, but for some unknown reason. Zul'Aman Vukui Esmeralda Da unexpectedly isn’t here, you can’t blame me.”
Not knowing where he learned it, Gotagin began to call Carlos boss, and learned the skill of throwing pots without any teacher.
"He, Quasimodo, sister. Esmeralda, Zul'Aman Vukui? Does Zujin also have a nickname called King Jiwu?"
Carlos felt his face twitch.
"Boss, I didn't understand what you said next."
Gou Tajin honestly responded to his confusion.
"Forget it, this big troll head is enough as a gift to Turalyon. Gotajin, you go and do the embalming."
Carlos decided not to dwell on it.
"You've found the right person, boss. You humans are so poor at craftsmanship. We trolls are the professionals."
Gotagin walked over and picked up Quasimodo's head.
"Ymir, are you finished cleaning the battlefield?"
Carlos stretched and felt a burst of relief after exercise.
"Young Master, four hundred and twenty-six heads were recorded, and none of our troops were killed."
In informal situations, Ymir always called Carlos the eldest son, repeatedly emphasizing his status as a retainer.
"Ha, Gota Jin and the others poisoned the water source one day in advance. This can still kill people. From now on, don't say that you are the elite of Alterac, don't say that you are the soldiers under Carlos Barov, young master. I can’t afford to lose this person!”
Carlos didn't mind Ymir's performance, nor did he mind the generals' private rankings.
When I read novels before, Carlos felt very unhappy about the noble lords using their loyalty but not using it. He felt that the noble lords were all idiots. Only when he became king did Carlos realize that he was destined to be a fool. Because Carlos discovered that when something happened, the person he trusted most was not Henry Scheit, the National Knights of the Kingdom, or the generals of Alterac, but the cavalry general he single-handedly promoted, Ymir.
For Ymir whose ability is above the level, Carlos doesn't mind giving him some special treatment.
"The young master is right, but this is still a huge victory."
Ymir never misses any opportunity to flatter him.
"Hahahaha, let's go. If we delay any longer, it will be bad if the trolls come to reinforce us. The wind is tight and the wind is blowing."
Carlos waved his hand and the assault force retreated quickly.
Although in front of others, Carlos didn't care about killing Quasimodo, but after reuniting with Alleria, Carlos did his best to ridicule and brag in front of the ranger lord.
I want you to grab heads at the beginning, I want you to make perfect shots, I want you to show off, hahaha, I want you to accept it!
Although the leaders on both sides were at odds, their subordinates still performed their duties and maintained a tight security circle.
Because the five-day tour of Yonge Forest is about to end, and the tour group has gone too deep into the troll activity area.
Led by Carlos and Alleria, this group of coalition elites would attack the troll and orc camps at least twice a night.
On a whim, Carlos used the skills of touching and detecting whistles that he had learned in his previous life, and gave his subordinates a live performance of what it means that Alterac does not believe in tears.
As participants, these soldiers and officers were so excited that their vests felt cold after witnessing Carlos' characteristic night raids and the elves' characteristic silent killing techniques.
One of the characteristics of intelligent creatures is their ability to make analogies and simulations.
If I were those trolls and orcs, could I escape?
The more I think about it, the more frightened I become, so there is no need to remind me that no one is lazy during the vigilance and night watch.
Because I'm afraid, because I don't dare.
When the last team returned to the assembly area, Carlos pointed at the gangsters of the Garrison Suicide Squad and cursed.
But when Garrison handed a baggage to Carlos, Carlos couldn't curse.
"I heard that he has a fiancée?"
"Well, I'm not married, but my daughter is five years old."
"I said, he seems to be only twenty-four, right?"
Ymir's digression dispelled the slight sadness, and Carlos was startled before he realized that this was Azeroth.
"go on."
"His father-in-law looked down on him. The two of them eloped. He promised his fiancée that he would give her the title of countess."
Ymir sighed and silently paid tribute to his heroic colleagues in his heart.
"I can't give him the title of countess, but I will fulfill his wish. Go in peace, your wife will be raised by me."
The daring guys from the Garrison Suicide Squad stole Aslan Qian's weapon from nowhere, the Bonigato Phantom Dancer, which was broken into five pieces.
After being sad, we still have to get down to business and count the results. When the 517-person sightseeing tour killing group returned, there were still 406 people left. However, the results they brought back were 934.
One hundred and twenty hours, this vengeful army spent less than twenty hours eating and sleeping. The rest of the time was spent searching for enemies, attacking and killing, intercepting scouts, and destroying lagging behind.
Carlos made it clear that he wanted to let Turalyon fly, so how could the time spent traveling be counted as vacation time. What's more, there are more than 400 trolls, such a big piece of fat. If you don't eat it, you will be sorry for yourself.
After laughing and scolding, on the way back to Maple Valley, Carlos found a chance to talk to Alleria alone.
"Do you feel better?"
"Absolutely not."
"reason."
"Tailon. Blood Demon. If I don't crush him to ashes, this hatred will last forever."
Seeing through Alleria's strong facade, there was an increasingly raging fire of anger, and Carlos felt that he was wrong.
"I'll help you."
"Thank you, I will repay you."
"hehe."
Carlos originally wanted to joke and ask if he would like to marry him?
But in the end, there are only two words of magic oil left. (To be continued.)
ps: Yes, on this Double Eleven Hand-Chopping Festival, the author brings deep respect and greetings to all the book friends who don’t have sex in the middle of the night, because the author didn’t go out to play either!
Licking his face, he said it was for the sake of the audience. Anyway, the author himself didn’t quite believe it, so the audience just pretended to believe it.
The 86 sons of heaven, the green and black tea of Ouchi, please update. On this holy war day, do you dare to update a chapter?
Well, with deep malice, no, respect, the author wishes everyone a happy Hand-Chopping Day. .
