"The newbie with two brushes cautiously entered the quarter-finals."
After the goblin responsible for the commentary was killed, the new orcs spoke much more politely.
On the afternoon of the 20th, I met Griffith and his team of orc gladiators. They used swords, shields, spears and fishing nets as weapons, and they were very skillful in their coordination. By this time, there were only eight teams left in the arena. Hundreds of mutilated corpses were piled together waiting to be taken away.
The orc gladiator who served as the vanguard was holding a long sword and a small shield, moving left and right like a springtail to avoid Brunave's attack. The fishnet gladiator threw a greasy and tough fishing net to cover Griffith.
Griffith had just cut through the fishing net with Han Guang to break free and prepare to support. Aslante was covered by another net, and the spear gladiator raised his gun and stabbed her.
But the black mist wrapped around Miss Shadow Priest's body was as tough as strong armor. The orc's spear thrust with all its strength was like piercing into layers of hard armor, unable to penetrate at all.
The would-be knight felt confident, grabbed the perseverance shield and threw it at the fishnet gladiator. The orc was knocked to the ground before he could throw the fishing net, and the fishing net did not cover the target.
Griffith jumped from the rope net, rushed over and killed the net gladiator with two swords. At the same time, Brunave also split the small shield of the sword and shield gladiator and chopped it to the ground.
Their cooperation is becoming more and more skillful. On the third day of the arena fight, Griffith had already fully understood his two companions.
Brunave is a typical orc warrior, at least on the surface he is a Sequence 7 "Berserker" of the warrior path. Although his combat does not come with spell-breaking characteristics, he can produce a bloodthirsty rage, greatly increase his strength and speed, and has a certain degree of magic resistance.
Aslante dresses like a cleric, but her prayers, blessings, and healing spells are all messed up, often causing negative effects or even curses; however, once she transforms into a shadow form, she will use a wide range of fear spells to control her. Field, using the tough black mist to provide all-round defense, and then using life drain and curse to give the enemy a fatal blow from a distance, just like a fortress.
"The ruthless squad of orcs, werewolves and trolls advance to the Final Four!"
The battle on the 21st took place in a makeshift arena of dilapidated shacks and trucks. Amidst the rumbling war drums, countless orcs beat their chests in greeting on both sides of the road and cheered "Uruhai" with deep roars until they entered the arena under the cliff and high wall.
The final arena in Uluhai is built with tall walls and stands made of blue boulders. Six tall stone pillars stand in the inner field, looking down at the fighting creatures, majestic and majestic.
It’s pretty good as an arena! Griffith looked at it with satisfaction, and at the same time deeply despised these barbarians in his heart.
They were poorly fed, lived in dens in the ground, used almost all their magic spells for fighting, had poor farming and production standards, and rebels and internal strife broke out at every turn. Only through the bloody and violent killing in front of them can they release the resentment and anger accumulated in their hearts and allow their leader to rule.
Brunave, well, is a warrior with some brains, but so what, without rigorous military science and without a sound social system, they are not Beyeland's opponents after all... If we encounter them on the battlefield in the future, I will give A glorious ending for him.
Clan citizens from all directions gathered here, many of them still carrying their luggage, and it was obvious that they had traveled a long way. From this moment on, Griffith no longer worried about being surrounded and suppressed by the army. Even if they are enemies, as long as they enter the open finals, the orcs' sense of honor will let them decide the winner openly.
He leaned down and began to examine the greaves and leggings, then carefully inspected the condition of the weapons. Galadia watched him from the side, helping to adjust the breastplate from time to time.
"Are you nervous?" Miss Elf asked softly, "Next year is my birthday, you must not die here!"
Griffith nodded. He has a good chance of winning. If the battle in the arena is unfavorable, he will activate the living corpses that have been ambushed in the past two days to launch an attack.
Uruhai is a sacred battle for the orcs, but not for him.
He held the girl's hand tightly and raised the corners of his mouth slightly, ready to tell her his thoughts to reassure her. At this moment, bursts of thunder rolled from the sky.
The sound of thunder is a bit strange. If you listen carefully, you can tell that it is a roar and roar like a mountain roaring and a tsunami.
Griffith suddenly became alert. This cry is thousands of lives cheering for honor and battle. A certain trait in his body was also activated, and the path of the war knight that had just begun to emerge resonated with it.
Galadia and Aslante's faces turned pale. Their keen senses and delicate spirits were touched, and they were greatly suppressed when they heard the thunderous roar.
The sound gradually changed from chaotic to neat, and even had a faint solemn melody. Finally, Griffith heard it clearly.
"Fight, great clan
"Fight to the death
"Destroy the dark wizarding forces
“Destroy the evil Bijalan gang!
"Let the noble anger
"Tumbling towards the waves
"Fight a brave war
"Holy war!"
This powerful chorus made Griffith turn pale when he heard it. This is the war song of the orcs, the "Holy War" that he must have heard before several battles in the east.
Brunave was beating his chest to the war song. The chaotic orc tribe actually gathered a solemn and sacred will in this song.
"Don't let the wings of evil
"Fly into our land
“Broad and beautiful pasture
"Don't let the enemy ravage you
"Let the noble anger
"Rolling like waves"
The gladiators strode onto the battlefield with war songs. The noblest orcs and the most despicable orcs shouted together, as if bound together by unbreakable chains, and threw themselves into the battlefield of Bijeran. They stood on the stone steps and cliffs surrounding the arena, beating their chests and stamping their feet on the ground, making an earth-shattering roar.
Aslante also began to sing this war hymn with her head raised along with Brunave. Although they are of different races, they are connected by this song.
"The corrupted spellcaster monster
"Watch your head
“The maggots and scum of the world
“Get the coffin ready!
"Let the noble anger
"Like a rolling wave
"Wage holy war!"
Griffith's hands were trembling slightly, and he couldn't tell whether he was excited or frightened by the passionate singing. He instinctively wanted to integrate into this great war, but found himself standing on the opposite side of the battlefield.
Galadia's pretty face was pale and bloodless, she held his hand tightly, leaned against him and whispered: "Don't be nervous, Griffith, you will definitely win."
"Win?!" Griffith looked at the roaring arena in horror, opened his mouth and asked in disbelief, "Win them?"
Brunave rushed to the arena amid the cheers of countless warriors. His giant ax spins like a windmill, sucking in the enemy's flesh and flying towards the sky.
The majestic war shaman personally led them to the finals - "The rock warriors are unstoppable in their killing spree in the sacred arena!"
The afternoon battle also went well. Although Griffith was always instinctively wary of these orcs, and Aslante also vomited under the impact of the hot murderous aura, the sixth battle remained calm.
…
That night, the four Griffiths did not need to go back to the tavern to rest, but stayed in a special room in the arena to rest. Brunave's steel ax is full of blood, and he can't wait to challenge the Baroque patriarch.
"The Jackal Hogg didn't show up. Was this guy killed by another group?"
Everyone was chatting when suddenly heavy footsteps came from the corridor. The challenger is a candidate for the clan leader. Many orc warriors have been deployed along the way to the lounge, but no one blocks him.
"Guys, get ready." Brunave picked up the ax and put it on his shoulder. "Our guests are here."
An extremely thick smell of blood rushed in from the corridor. The leading creature is an extremely tall monster. He has strong humanoid limbs, the ferocious eyes on the jackal's head, and the pale fangs are still hung with pieces of meat.
This was a jackal man, twice the size of his kin. He was all gray, wearing leather armor, and holding a large axe. His sinister gaze swept over the four people in the room one after another.
What followed him in was a creature hidden under a black robe. He didn't speak, and he didn't reveal his true appearance at all, but he was squirming under the cloth robe as if he were alive.
Galadia reminded softly in Griffith's ear: "The Jackal is an extraordinary creature. The smell of the thing under the black robe is so messy and unpredictable that I can't even tell whether it is a living thing."
The two monsters stood there, neither talking nor fighting.
The third person who came in was an old orc. He is tall and tall, but he is obviously older. His face is wrinkled and his muscles have begun to relax. His beard and hair are all gray, and he wears a small and mismatched golden crown on his head. His eyes were already cloudy, and he slowly scanned the four people in front of him, and finally his eyes rested on Brunave:
“I am Baroque, the son of Battus, the unique king of the Firestone Tribe.
"Are you, Burruss?"
"Brunaf, the brave son of Borna, comes in the name of the great chief to replace you, a guy who doesn't obey orders." Brunaf stroked his axe, "Chief Baroque, you came a little late. It was quite decisive for you to kill my companion, but it’s too late to take action now.”
The young blood warrior pointed his ax at the old patriarch, then looked at the jackal and pointed his finger at him: "Of course, if you want to do it now, I'm more than welcome."
The wolf man let out a contemptuous growl from his wolf mouth, and sticky saliva dripped from the wolf's teeth. He leaned down, ready to pounce and tear the enemy in front of him to pieces at any time.
The old patriarch sat down on the chair tremblingly, like a dying old man: "It's really late. It's difficult to guard against the corrupted forest. It's impossible to block all the roads. But that's okay. Originally, I I didn’t expect to deal with the great chief so easily.”
He waved his hand, and the terrifying jackals and black-robed creatures retreated without saying a word, leaving him alone face to face with the four young people in front of him.
"Brave Bonan, I'm not here to fight with you tonight. Our battlefield is tomorrow's Ulu Hai. There is no point in bleeding other than that," the old patriarch said slowly, "Tonight, I'm here to talk to you. chat."
"Tell me, old man, and my name is Brunave."
The old orc's cloudy eyes seemed to be remembering, or trying to remember what he wanted to say. He stayed there for a long time, which even made Griffith wonder if he suddenly traveled westward.
"Do you want my crown? Bo-Katan?" Finally, he remembered his topic.
"I want the position of your clan leader. Where did you buy the metal piece secondhand? Give it to me," Brunav growled, "Also, my name is Brunav. If I call you by the wrong name, I will get it." His front teeth were extracted.”
A faint smile appeared on the corner of the old orc's mouth, almost hidden by the wrinkles: "Okay, okay, come and get it. There were many warriors before you who came to challenge me, but they didn't succeed."
As he spoke, he raised his finger and pointed at the crown above his head:
"A long time ago, I snatched it from the hands of the previous clan leader, firmly believing that it was for the good of the clan. That guy was cruel, arrogant and stupid, and the Firestone Tribe would be doomed sooner or later in his hands. I did a good thing, and since then Think you did a good thing.
"Until you put it on...
"This crown has a will, it is alive."
The air in the room suddenly became colder. Griffith stared at the awkward crown on the old orc's head, and felt an inexplicable twisted illusion in his heart. This is a crown made of gold. It is unknown where the orcs took it. The inlaid gems are missing, staring out at the world like the eye sockets of a skull.
The person who came here to talk to Brunave seemed to be this small piece of metal, and the old patriarch was just its bracket.
Brunave did not respond immediately, so the old patriarch continued:
"From the moment I put it on, I felt the surging power. The power of every warrior in the tribe is my power. Every pair of eyes is my eyes. I can command them, lead them, and take what is in my heart." What you want.
"It's really like the power of a god...
"But, but, this power does not belong to me. The will of the crown is the real owner of this power.
"Everything I do is to follow its will——
“Exercise power, pursue power.
"That's all."
The old orc's tone was calm and non-threatening, but his expression was so strange that it even gave people the impression that the crown was squeezing his life away. If Brunave could bring about the end, he would willingly give everything.
"Young Postan~"
"I'm Brunave, forget it, it's up to you."
"Brave warrior, the chief wants you to come here because he wants you to take over the power of the Firestone Tribe, use this place as a base to invade Odessa, hand over the food and goods that have been gathered for many years to supply the army, and let the warriors here serve the clan. The Alliance’s armies go to war.”
"That's natural."
The old patriarch shook his head, as if talking in his sleep: "But the Firestone Tribe doesn't want this~
"Warriors want to kill, honor and plunder, so it's okay to fight one or two battles. If they are allowed to fight for months and months and are willing to give up food and weapons, who will agree?
"The war with humans will never end, and the wealth accumulated by the Firestone Tribe over the years will melt like ice and snow under the scorching sun. The trade of exchanging furs and minerals to bring food will also end because of the war. It won't be long before this place will be like Other tribes are as poor as the villages. They are so poor that they don't even have enough barley and maggots to eat. If famine comes..."
Brunave snorted, but said nothing.
The old patriarch continued to talk to himself: "Every warrior who comes to challenge me, I will tell him this. If you kill me tomorrow, haha, although it is unlikely, if that happens, you will I will wear this crown and merge with its will.
“Young orc, when that time comes, you will know that this is a future that the ruler cannot resist.
"You will become like me sooner or later."
After saying this, the old patriarch stood up tremblingly, straightened his back and walked out the door. When he was approaching the exit, he turned around again: "Warrior, do you know what the elders, women and children in the tribe think? Most of them will not come to see Uluhai tomorrow, waiting for you to kill them. After removing my head, you can go and see them."
His eyes then turned to Aslante:
"Oh, by the way, you can ask the girl next to you. Which one is better, a living coward or a dead hero?"
