The Earth People are so Fierce

The recruit training camp at the Blood Skull Arena is a casting workshop in another sense.

Countless homes were destroyed, the rat people with hatred fire surging in their bodies, and they passed the fight of life and death in the dark dungeon, and vented the hatred that should have been vented on the clan warriors to each other.

After layers of screening, the rat people who can climb onto the ground and join the boot camp have become the best "steel billets."

Here, they can enjoy ten times more food than deep in the dungeon.

You can also apply secret medicines added with Totem Beast Ointment.

Not only can it speed up wound healing, but it can also make bones as steel as iron, and flesh and blood as tough as a shield covered in leather.

Afterwards, they plunged into cruel training day and night.

Repeatedly lifting hundreds of kilograms of stone locks; launched the most ferocious impact on the blood-stained copper wall and iron wall; walked through the red iron rope, and under the iron rope is a trap full of sharp edges; crawled over a barb full of barbs If you are not careful, your fishing net will be pierced into the flesh by the barb, and it will be tightly wrapped in the fishing net...

Although these rat people are the strongest after the screening.

Many rat people are no different from clan warriors, and even stronger than clan warriors.

It's just not qualified to get a gorgeous tattoo that represents the family blood and the glorious deeds of ancestors.

But hidden deep in the bone marrow, in addition to the mandala fruit, the power that needs to be accumulated by devouring a large amount of totem beast flesh and blood from an early age is far inferior.

Many rat people who are strong in the outside world cannot withstand such high-intensity training.

Or Shi Shuo came out, hit the instep, and smashed the bones of the foot.

Or in the process of crashing into the copper wall and iron wall, he smashed his head and broke his muscles.

He even fell into a pit full of sharp blades, and was pricked all over.

There were also people who were too late to untie the fishing nets full of barbs, were torn apart their large arteries, blood splattered to the height of three or five arms, and died of excessive blood loss.

These people are like scraps of forging weapons.

He was quickly dragged away by the expressionless rat folk handyman.

Drag to the Colosseum filled with totem beasts.

Immediately there will be more rat people recruits, replenished from the depths of the dungeon.

Start the next round of "forging" and "casting".

The arrival of the ice storm attracted everyone's attention.

As the trump card of the Blood Skull Arena, although he lost three games in a row in team battles, he was judged by the judge each time. He was never really defeated by his opponent. In the contest with the opponent's general, he did not eat too much. Loss.

Even, because the opponent is so crowded, and in the end when she is defeated, she is often left alone.

Furious, she also staged the feat of "One Ride as a Thousand", dedicating a wonderful show to the audience.

When she summoned the "Mythril Ripper" and set off the stormy waves formed by the condensation of frost, and drove hundreds of rat militiamen out at once, no one dared to regard her as a failure.

Therefore, Ice Storm still enjoys high prestige and worship.

Many rat people are eager to play under her command.

Seeing her appear, the exhausted Rat People recruits cheered up again.

They flared their teeth and claws, groaning again and again, trying to make themselves look more ferocious.

The two disabled gladiators who were in charge of training new recruits also stepped forward quickly and greeted the ice storm with smiles.

But there was no smile on Ice Storm's face.

She always suspected that Casaval moved his hands and feet.

In the first three selections of recruits, she did not choose the best recruits.

This time, be sure to open your eyes and look carefully.

Ice Storm carried his hands on his back, wagging his tail, and passed through the middle of the training ground.

But I also found a few sturdy, powerful guys.

-Many clan warriors born in military aristocratic families will also be exiled because of failures in family struggles and battles, become rat people, and have to marry other rat people.

Therefore, "Mouse" has never been a concept in the sense of blood.

The so-called "defiled blood" and "glorious blood" are not fundamentally different.

If these bearish guys can devour a lot of totem beast flesh and blood from a young age, and get a gorgeous tattoo, who can distinguish them from the real clan warrior?

Ice Storm knows this better than any Turanite.

But she also has to admit that even if there is no essential difference in bloodline and the education received since childhood, the adult rat people and the clan warriors have huge differences in combat effectiveness.

The simplest, when she stared deeply at these seemingly strong guys, the ice cone-like eyes lightly pierced their bodies.

They began to be flustered, their movements were deformed and they made mistakes again and again.

In the first three selections of recruits, she had picked up a lot of guys who looked like sturdy guys.

When training in person, the performance of these guys is barely satisfactory.

But on the arena of real swords and guns, facing tens of thousands of clan warriors, the powerful crowd roared to the sky.

These rat militiamen, who came from poor villages and had never seen so many clan masters in their entire life, often collapsed all at once.

The same thing can never happen again for the fourth time.

She only has one last chance.

We must choose better soldiers.

But what kind of soldier is considered "better"?

Bing Storm frowned, pondering this question silently.

Suddenly, she stopped.

Somewhat surprised he looked at a ratman boy on the edge of the training field.

Compared with the adult rats with big cows and big horses and muscles, this teenager is too thin.

Although carefully observed, he can find that his streamlined body and limbs are also covered with bundles of steel rope-like muscles.

But because the hands and feet are too long, it still makes people feel like they will break with a light grip.

How could such a "weak and weak" young man pass through layers of screening, from his hometown to Pointe Noire, and from the deepest part of the dungeon, step by step to the boot camp?

And the size of the boy was not what surprised Ice Storm.

She was surprised that—

"He actually fell asleep?" Ice Storm muttered to himself, some of whom couldn't believe it.

It is said that it is hard training day and night, of course it is impossible to really not sleep.

But the place where the recruits sleep, next to the training camp, is a stinking shack.

On the training ground, at most, after a dozen or twenty sets of extremely difficult heavy-load training, there is a short rest time for a meal.

And all around were deafening shouts, screams, and the collision of stone locks and stone axes, comparable to a real casting workshop.

Can he fall asleep in such an environment?

Bing Feng squinted his eyes and looked at the boy seriously.

Seeing that the young man's hands were covered with thick calluses, the skin beside the calluses was rubbed and torn with blood dripping.

Apparently, he had just held a stone lock or a stone axe and had undergone super-intensive training.

But there were no scars on his body.

There were no bruises, bruises, falls, nor cuts by sharp blades or barbs.

This is impossible.

At the boot camp, all rat folks have to receive the same training. The training content is modeled after the military aristocracy trains clan warriors who are about ten years old.

No rat folk can withstand such arduous training without leaving any scars on his body.

Judging from the even breathing and calm expression, this teenager was not tired, but fell asleep on his own initiative.

It seems that the training content that is enough to make most of the rat people mental breakdown and exhaustion does not make him feel too painful and tired.

He is easy to do!

Perhaps Ice Storm's eyes were too sharp.

The boy quivered his eyelids in his sleep.

Before he opened his eyes, he wiped his hands under his legs and wiped out two bone blades as thin as cicada wings.

Neither bone blade has a handle.

Sandwiched between two fingers, it is extremely difficult to be spotted.

Even Ice Storm, if it hadn't been observing the young man, might have missed this deadly action.

"What a clever Tibetan sword technique!"

Ice Storm became more and more surprised, "This is the exquisite skill that a clan warrior who is used to killing can only be mastered. Where did a small rat boy learn such a skill!"

The ice storm could feel that the Ratman boy had woken up.

But he did not open his eyes, and continued to pretend to sleep.

The whole body is flesh and blood, but it is like a winch wrapped around a cable, twisted little by little, and can escape, defend and attack at any time.

Ice Storm retracted his gaze, passed the young man, and continued to walk forward.

She could feel the boy breathe a little bit of relief.

Behind her, he opened his eyes slightly and watched her secretly.

"The brave little guy."

Ice Storm smiled in his heart and asked the disabled gladiator in charge of the training camp, "The little guy just now has long hands and long feet. He looked a little thin. Did he just crawl out of the dungeon? How did he perform?"

The disabled gladiator was slightly startled, as if he didn't expect Ice Storm to fall in love with this thin young man.

He didn't dare to offend the trump card of the Blood Skull Arena, and hurriedly said, "I just climbed up the day before yesterday. I heard that he performed well under the ground, and he attacked hard enough. Every time he arrived in a new cage, he would sneak attack on the strongest and most powerful. Guy, it shocked everyone else at once.

"But when I climbed on the ground and came to the training camp, my performance was... okay, not up and down, nothing special."

"nothing special?"

The ice storm froze for a moment.

According to her observation, this young man was the most special rat folk she had ever seen in the Blood Skull Arena.

After thinking about it, she asked, "Within two days, many gladiators should have come here to pick a servant, didn't they choose him?"

"Pick him?"

The disabled gladiator said, "It's strange to say that although this kid usually does not train well, but it is not bad enough to require someone to use a whip. All training content can be barely completed at the last minute.

"Every time a gladiator came to select a servant, everyone cheered up and performed desperately, but he was in a hurry, making mistakes, and once fell off the chain and almost fell into a pit full of sharp blades, scared His face was pale and trembling.

"It seems that the spirit is too weak to withstand the pressure.

"Additionally, with such a thin appearance and an unweaned appearance, how could a gladiator waste a precious spot and elect him as a servant?"