Broad World

Chapter 574: The Winner

Blood! Dark red blood soaked the entire duel arena!

The corpses of dozens of dark elves fell to the ground in all directions, either missing arms or legs, or the heads around their necks were missing. \u003cThey were all the ones to challenge, but without exception, they were dismembered by those two deadly long knives.

That's right, dismemberment. In order to show his crazy fighting will and bloodthirsty ('lust') desire, Henry adopted a shocking technique, that is, to pick off the opponent's tendons in the battle, and then cut them into 'human sticks', press He suffocated to death in the blood, and finally chopped off his head and kicked it aside.

Even the dark elves, who had always been very evil, felt horrified by this cruel method of killing, but he also paid the price for it.

After all, these challengers are not only fighters, but also priests, mages, thieves, warlocks, etc., especially those annoying spellcasters. It is very difficult to deal with them when they cannot use spells, and sometimes they even have to resist , so there were already several horrific-looking wounds on his body, and a piece of skin on his neck was even baked.

Of course, the results obtained are also quite brilliant. A total of fifteen fighters, six thieves, four priests, and three mages fell completely to the duel arena. Their bodies were completely destroyed, and they lost the possibility of being resurrected. Now every dark elf is looking at Henry who is standing on the dueling field laughing wildly with eyes of awe, and no one dares to leave. They were completely intimidated by this enthusiasm for fighting. Although the victor was covered with scars and looked like he might fall down at any time, no one dared to try it lightly.

If it were someone else, I am afraid that countless challengers will emerge immediately to seize this glory. But Henry was different, because he had killed five people in a row in this state, including a powerful priest.

The bloody reality made the dark elves present fearful, unable to raise the awareness of resistance at all. Although Henry has been taunting everyone loudly, and sometimes even raising a knife to name and provoke one by one, no one has responded for a long time. The rage he displayed in the battle was too terrifying, giving people an unrivaled feeling.

At this moment, the whole tavern was extremely quiet, except for the occasional slight movement of someone swallowing their saliva, only the sound of heavy breathing remained.

Henry had never understood why spellcasters were always feared by people, while warriors, rangers, paladins, monks, and even thieves could all be respected and loved by people. After this battle today, I finally got the answer. It's a sense of reality, the bloody, fist-to-flesh blows of melee professions can be understood immediately at a glance. For ordinary people, this is the fighting style they can understand. It is more intuitive and violent, and it is also easier to make people excited.

As for spellcasters, especially mages, because the methods are too weird, many ordinary people can't figure out what's going on, so naturally they can't talk about respect. After all, there are only a small number of people who can possess supernatural power, especially in human society, this is even more obvious.

After continuous fierce fighting, he now feels unprecedented fatigue, every inch of muscle in his body is protesting loudly, and the nerve endings are sending signals to the brain over and over again that he needs to rest and heal. But the spirit was still excited, especially at the moment when he finally killed the priest, he vaguely found a little bit of his own style.

It seems that those famous fighters are right, if you want to break through your limit, you have to fight non-stop! fighting! fighting! Wandering between half-dead and dead, brushing shoulders with death, let the wounds tell you how to dodge, let the enemy's corpse teach you how to attack.

From obtaining the job of Juggernaut to the present, to be precise, the fierce battle just now, Henry has thoroughly integrated the combat skills instilled into the brain by the system. Although it is far from the level of muscle memory, it is absolutely worthy of A nineteenth-level fighter.

His mind is blank now, completely forgetting that he knows magic, divine arts, and wears many magic items on his body, and devotes himself to this game of life and death. It is precisely because of this that all the dark elves They felt shocked from the bottom of their hearts.

This is the power of the sword. Although it is not as colorful and changeable as magic, nor can it heal wounds and bless various states like divine art, it is real, intuitive and clear, and it can be judged in a flash.

Sandor, who was in charge of the duel field, boldly shouted down: "Nim, you are such an awesome warrior, no one dares to challenge now. I declare that you are the only winner today! After the duel king!"

"Hehe, the king of duels? That doesn't mean anything to me. What I want is a good opponent, just like the 'female' priest who rushed in and tried to strangle me. How about this, you come down and fight with me How about a game?" Henry said with a bloodthirsty gleam in his eyes, and raised his head to stare at the host on the steps.

His eyes looked like a hungry beast, looking for prey in all directions, and once he found it, he would definitely swallow it without mercy.

"No! No! No! I'm definitely not your match. If so many 'sex' lives haven't satisfied your bloodthirsty ('lust') desire, then I suggest you try it at the Colosseum on the other side , the monsters there should be relieved a little bit." Sandor waved his hands desperately and hurriedly changed the subject. He didn't want to walk into a duel with such a fearsome fighter, and that suicide made no difference.

Henry looked the person in charge up and down, chuckled, wiped off the blood on the two long knives, and slowly inserted them into the sheaths. He wiped the blood on the sole of his boot on a corpse, and stepped out of the arena.

Manic, bloodthirsty, ruthless, loves fighting, and defiant, it can be said that just after he came to Usternatha, Henry has completed the shaping of the role of Nim. If it is on the earth, he will definitely have the strength to win Oscar statuette.

Now absolutely no one will associate him with a legendary mage, even if Joan Irenicas and Chasma come in person, it is absolutely impossible to see any flaws. This is like a saying that life is like a play, it all depends on acting skills, as long as the acting is good, there is no target that cannot be fooled.

Seeing the victor walking out of the duel field, the surrounding dark elves lowered their heads and bowed slightly to express their respect. You must know that this is not an ordinary duel, but one person challenges a group of people, and slaughters the opponent with an unusually violent attitude.

From the perspective of the general moral concept on the surface, this is an out-and-out atrocity, but in the eyes of the dark elves, this is a hero, an object worthy of challenge and worship.

Carrig's mood at the moment is quite complicated. On the one hand, he laments that His Majesty the king on the surface is really fierce, and he has defeated so many dark elves at once. On the other hand, he feels that his heart is about to be unable to bear it. If I do it again, I'm afraid I will get sick immediately, and even if I don't die, I will lose ten years of life.

However, when Henry limped over, he still bowed slightly out of politeness: "Congratulations on your brilliant victory, I believe that within two days, all the residents of Usternaza will be talking about this duel , within a few days, nobles will come to recruit them."

"Relax, you're really nervous. I've always kept my word, and those corpses on the ground are the best proof." Henry sat down on the chair, picked up the cup and took a sip of low-grade alcohol of Korgs.

He was so sore now that he didn't even want to move a finger. The continuous high-intensity battles consumed too much physical strength. If it weren't for some magical equipment that restores 'sex', such as the "Ring of Guss", it might not be able to last at all.

"I never doubt your promise, even if it sounds so bizarre. But it's best not to let this kind of situation happen again in the future, otherwise it's hard for me to guarantee that I won't run away immediately because of fear." Carrig said With a wry smile on his face, he raised his glass and drank it down.

Henry nodded with a smile: "I can understand, please rest assured that similar situations will not happen again before you leave. Now go book a few rooms, I have something for you. In addition, these wounds on my body It will also take time to recover.”

"Hahahaha! These are trivial things. As long as you don't do these crazy things, it's fine to let me take off my clothes and dance downstairs." Carrig said in a half-joking tone.

He has made up his mind now, he will get the money later, go to the market to buy some goods, and leave early tomorrow morning.

Half an hour later, in the room behind the tavern, Henry paid 500 pearls obtained in the sahuagin city, which offset the cost of buying weapons. You must know that although there are things like "stone pearls" and "'cave' beads" in the Underdark Region, they are several times more expensive than gems because they are extremely rare.

The value of 500 deep-sea pearls here has far exceeded 50,000 gold coins, and Karigele couldn't keep his mouth shut. Just by changing hands of these things, he can make about double the profit, which is definitely enough to compensate for the pain he suffered just now. frightened.

After sending the caravan leader away, Henry checked every corner of the room to make sure that there were no peepholes or magic spells, and then carefully used magic spells to heal the more serious parts of his body. Hurt did not dare to move at all.

He didn't want someone with a heart to see his flaws because of such a small detail. After all, he was playing a soldier now, so he couldn't let the wound heal too quickly, and leaving a few scars would also help to conceal his identity.

In the end, he lay on the 'bed' and carefully identified several magic weapons bought at the weapon booth.

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Withering Poison Spear:

Crafted from rotten hearts, this spear has the breath of death. It groans when held in your hand, as if unwilling to be touched by living things. In combat, the Withering Spear leaves a highly poisonous poison on enemies with each hit.

Combat ability:

Additional poisonous damage per hit

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Throwing Dagger: "Fire Fang"

This throwing knife has magical flames and may have been made from the plucked teeth of a red dragon. Legend has it that the dragon is still alive, and its rage powers the magic in the weapon. Fanciful as it may sound, the story may be true; and the dagger is said to return "as if it had wings" to its thrower.

special power:

fly back to the user

Since the dagger is so lightweight, it can be swung faster than similar weapons

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'Fuck' the stick of earth:

Closely related to the Elemental Plane of Earth, this staff may have been made by an ancient druid sect. It can summon an earth elemental, and also has the potential to kill these creatures in one hit.

Combat ability:

If the earth elemental is hit, it has a certain chance to be instantly destroyed

special power:

Summons a medium-sized earth elemental for 30 seconds and can be used 30 times

Remove petrification, use 30 times--837+dsuaahhh+7637--\u003e(?)

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