Shadow Trails in Azeroth

It was already three hours later when Blake was carried by the Griffin Knight and returned to Dangarok Castle.

The dwarves commanded by Captain Darren chased them for several kilometers at a stretch and completely dispersed the orcs of the Bone Chewing Clan. It must be said that the victory in this battle was brilliant.

With 300 remnant troops, he defeated an orc clan that was twice his own size. It was a brilliant victory for any race.

As one of the most important components of this victory, when the assassin Black was returned to the castle, he was naturally treated like a hero. Those dwarves who could still move stood by the castle and cheered him.

The captain also opened a barrel of excellent dwarf ale and invited Black to drink the wine with him.

The Paigu Man did not refuse.

He was very tired and really needed a rest, but surprisingly, in a drinking contest with the dwarves who were the best at drinking, Blake miraculously persisted until the end.

This increased his image in the minds of these dwarves.

This human assassin, who is as thin as a rib, can fight, has courage, and can drink so much that he has the stomach of a dwarf drunkard. He is definitely a first-rate hero among humans.

In fact, the cunning pirate only cheated a little.

When his class was transferred to a pirate, one of the talents he received was a magical alcoholic, which was probably a black humor expression that pirates are all drunkards.

In short, with the blessing of this talent, Blake drinks wine just like drinking water.

It’s not that I won’t get drunk.

But after being drunk to a certain level, there will be no more serious drunkenness, no vomiting, and no fragmentation.

But running to the toilet is out of the question.

After all, the human stomach is only that big, even the people of Kul Tiran in the ocean kingdom.

I found this on the orc chief.

At midnight, on the outskirts of Dangarok Castle, a drunken Blake was holding a bottle of wine in his hand, holding a similarly drunk little murloc in his arms who was still blowing bubbles, and took out something from the magic bag.

He handed it to Captain Darren, who was sitting on the wine barrel next to him, enjoying the tobacco from his pipe.

With the help of the burning torch next to him, the captain, who was also a little drunk, took the thing and found that it was a strange weapon, which was heavy in his hand.

It was a bladed fist.

The lower part is made into the shape of a wrist, while the upper part maintains a ferocious orc-style machete, with a blood groove on the blade.

At first glance, it looks like a sinister weapon.

Ah, this thing is a rare weapon among us dwarves. Only those orc lunatics and pirates would replace their fists with this kind of thing.

Captain Darren is indeed a dwarf who is good at forging.

He took the fist blade in his hand, looked at it for a few times, then raised his head, blew out a smoke ring, and said to Black:

But the quality of this thing is very fine. It should have been made by the orc chief in their world. It doesn't look like the craftsmanship of Azeroth. You gave it to me because you want me to find a blacksmith to help you change it?

Um.

Blake took a sip of wine, wiped the wine stains from the corners of his mouth, and said to the dwarf:

Who in the entire Azeroth doesn't know that you dwarves are the best at forging iron? It's rare that I meet you, so I ask you to help me change it into a weapon suitable for me.

He wiped Werther's leg around his waist with some regret and said to the captain:

My previous weapon was accidentally destroyed when I was chasing the orcs today. It was probably because I used it too harshly recently and I never took care of it.

Well, that's not a bad habit for a good warrior.

The captain laughed and said to Blake with a hint of drunkenness:

Whether you are a warrior or an assassin, you must learn to treat the weapons in your hands well. If you treat them badly, they will punish you and leave you.

yes.

Blake raised his head sadly and looked at the moonlight above his head.

He said in his heart:

Who knew that in the real world, weapons would actually have durability. When the durability reaches zero, they will be broken into pieces, but it is not shown in the character card either.

It all depends on your own perception.

I can still use that fish-man dagger quite smoothly, which is really a pity.

I'm going to modify this weapon for you right now.

Captain Darren smoked a bag of tobacco, patted his belly, stood up unsteadily, and said to Blake:

Although I'm not a master blacksmith, I can still modify the weapon. I'll give it to you tomorrow at the latest. By the way, this is the trophy you got from an orc chief.

Won't you give it a name?

Blade Fist.

Black took a sip of wine and said to the dwarf captain:

Just call it Blade Fist.

Huh? This name is a bit weird, but it's okay. It's quite appropriate. It's both a fist and a blade.

The captain laughed, waved his hand, and staggered towards the castle.

Blake watched him disappear and shook his head, thinking that he was not the one who named him, but that this piece of equipment was called Blade Fist.

He glanced at the equipment column of the character card.

Imitated Blade Fist

Excellent quality. Strengthened chopping. Strengthened bleeding.

Um.

Two enhancement entries.

But in terms of attributes, it is even better than Blake's already handy Werther's Leg. This is also the second sophisticated weapon he has obtained. It is indeed a treasure trove from danger.

Moreover, what he gained from risking this battle today was not just a sophisticated weapon, nor just a skill.

——

I don't know what you Kul Tirans are like, but we dwarves don't really like killing prisoners.

Outside the castle, quite far away.

Blake held the wine bottle and the pipe gifted by Captain Darren, holding it in his mouth and puffing on the smoke. The tobacco used by the dwarf was quite explosive, but once he got used to it, he could feel the unique aroma of wood.

Somewhat addictive.

In this forest, Captain Darren's adjutant, the dwarf ranger Greif, comforted his pet brown bear, which was two or three times larger than himself, and said to Blake who emerged from the shadows:

If I hadn't known that you were in a special situation and that you had proven your bravery on the battlefield today and were not the kind of bastard who bullies the weak and fears the strong, I wouldn't have helped you.

Thanks, Lieutenant.

Blake glanced deeper into the forest. A group of dwarf musketeers wearing green ranger uniforms were guarding a temporary camp.

It was full of orc prisoners captured in today's battle tied up with ropes.

There are a lot of people.

Underneath the shadows, there were about thirty people.

How are you going to kill them to honor your comrades who died in Khaz Modan?

Dwarf Greif is a talkative person.

He held a gun that was taller than others and asked curiously. Blake glanced at him and said seriously:

“Our third fleet was completely wiped out in that sea area, killed by the orcs’ conspiracy. Not many people survived, but I still remember that our advance fleet had nearly three thousand people.

In my whole life, I will let these orcs who have no honor in their hearts exchange their lives for their lives!

However, my comrades would not want to see me become as despicable as these intruders!

Lend me a sword.

Black dropped the bottle, wiped his mouth, and said to the dwarf ensign:

I want to kill them one on one in battle! Don't interfere. If I die, it means that I am nothing more than that!

good!

These words made Greif, who was still a little uncomfortable, suddenly light up. The dwarf hunter waved and took off a one-handed ax from his waist and threw it to Black.

The latter took it in his hand and glanced at the equipment column.

The Razor's Edge

Excellent quality. Strengthened chopping. Strengthened agility.

Huo!

Good guy.

These dwarves have so much good stuff.

As soon as it was given to him, it was a high-quality weapon. Judging from the rarity of this weapon, the seemingly ordinary dwarf in front of him was probably someone with a certain background.

You come!

Black walked up to the orcs, pulled out Werther's leg from his waist, and used an ax to split the rope of an old orc. There were also dwarf rangers nearby, as if they were watching a show, and threw two daggers to the orc.

The pirate raised his weapon, and the orc opposite looked at him.

He probably knew what Black meant, so he didn't say much. He just silently picked up the two swords and got ready to fight.

These violent orcs of the old era have already fallen hopelessly into a desire for destruction when the entire race was tempted by demons, but giving them an ending as a warrior is not bad.

You can also practice your skills easily.

Blake stared at the orc in front of him and said in his heart:

Hela wants a warrior soul, so I will give her a warrior soul. After tonight, my 'trial post' will be completed.

Come!

He made a provocative gesture to the orc in front of him and said in half-baked orc language:

I give you glory!

As soon as he said these words, the old orc opposite him was stunned for a moment.

Under the gaze of all the dwarves, the old orc lowered his head, as if recalling his youth. His body trembled, and when he raised his head, his eyes were red.

He bowed to Black.

That's human etiquette.

He was expressing his gratitude.

maybe.

The execution lasted until early morning.

Thirty orcs were killed by Black in duels one by one. They were exhausted from the day's fighting, and almost all of them were wounded when they were captured.

And the difference in weapons is also obvious.

This was not a fair battle, but no one complained about it, even the dwarves who were watching and the orcs who were killed.

Thanks to their dedication, at dawn, Blake's pirate fighting skills and newly learned saber stabbing skills were improved from beginners to proficient.

But only seventeen experiences were recorded, and the remaining thirteen were combined with the orcs killed before to form fifty, and they were all thrown into the soul-inducing lamp.

Blake looked at the status bar of the character card.

In his gaze, there were words changing:

Character Card: Orc Killer Derek Proudmoore (Blake Shaw)

Information: Kul Tiran Human, 19 years old

Status: Mortal body. Messenger of Hell

The curse was transformed into a new state. At this moment, Blake seemed to hear the surging waves that seemed to be real, and his perception was also strengthened.

The soul-inducing lamp in his hand has officially become a piece of equipment.

The Soul Hunter in the title column also became wearable, but Blake did not wear it immediately because the chatty dwarf Greif was still chattering beside him.

Huh? You said you want to learn hunting from me?

This dwarf ranger hunter, who had a large brown bear as a pet, would lean into his pet's soft mane, drink wine, and look at Blake.

A rather strange smile appeared on his generous dwarf face, which was mostly covered by his beard.

explain:

Okay, I can teach you.

But you may not necessarily learn the skills of the mountain rangers, but they are unique to us dwarves. They are the blessings of the earth. Many humans want to learn them, but none of them have learned them.

On the other hand, those long-eared people in Quel'Thalas also have very powerful hunters called rangers. I heard that there is a genius among you humans.

More than a year ago, he became the first human ranger to join the Farstrider Legion.

What's his name?

Maris?

Greif kept talking about the stories he had heard, while Blake sat cross-legged in front of him with an equally subtle expression.

Above the translucent character card, the previous scene appeared again, and a line of small words was beating.

Level 35 Mountain Patrolman/Level 25 Beastmaster/Level 1 Shadow Guard Sentinel, Bronzebeard Dwarf Greif. Crazy Heart, is teaching you hunter skills.

really.

Blake's heart moved.

The seemingly ordinary dwarf lieutenant in front of him was anything but ordinary.

With his level 35 mountain ranger class, as long as he finds an opportunity, he can probably kill today's orc chief Skullsplitter with one shot. In front of him, Blake is an out-and-out rookie.

And, most importantly, Greif's level 1 Shadow Guard Sentinel class is...

Legendary class!

If Blake read the name correctly, it means that the chatty dwarf in front of him is a member of Azeroth's legendary hunter organization, the Secret Path?

Is this guy an elite template?

No wonder Dangarok Castle was besieged by orcs for so many days without falling. It was probably this guy who was secretly supporting it from behind.

But what exactly is he spying on while lurking in Hillsbrad Foothills?

Devil?