klisemfg Chapter 627 A small fight
Chapter 627 A small fight
The two bandits looked Lorraine up and down, puzzled... how could such rare creatures as undead appear in a troll village?
Lorraine was also sizing up the other person...
He's tall or short, fat or thin, oddly shaped, and has terrible fashion sense—he looks like a bandit!
Putting down their rifles, cannons, and the scimitars favored by pirates and sailors, these guys became nothing short of laborers, armed with shovels or hoes. Trolls, goblins, dwarves, humans, tauren—except for orcs, almost every race was represented...
A group of bandits, each wearing a small metal mask and a special kind of respirator that looked cheap, came prepared.
......
Lorraine was right; these mercenaries were a motley crew: wanderers, scavengers, poachers, thugs or miners, gold prospectors, and exiles driven from primitive tribes... They all came from the Underground City.
【Underground City】is a hidden goblin black market city. Originally, it was just a venture capital firm's outpost established after discovering the great rift in central Kalimdor. Over the years, it has developed into the Kalimdor headquarters of a goblin conglomerate.
Adventurers from all over the world gather here; they are not ordinary people, and not everyone is even qualified to know about the existence of the [Underground City].
Gangsters, thugs, sailors, and gold prospectors were the original inhabitants of the underground city.
Doesn't anyone wonder where the goblin master craftsman Gazlowe has found the large amount of supplies he stockpiled in Ratchet, including various metal parts and fuel? Besides supplying the new tribe of Warchief Thrall, where have all these supplies gone?
The answer is Shimmering Flats and Gadgetzan, Everlook in Winterspring, and some little-known private settlements.
The development of the Underground City has exceeded the imagination of the local residents. Venture capital firms have been active in the Barrens near Ashenvale, and the mines and caves near the Ragewater River have been occupied by goblins.
Large quantities of ores, oil, and grassland products were transported to Ratchet and then shipped to Booty Bay in Stranglethorn Vale. This way, the Syndicate rebels and pirates in the southern part of the Eastern Kingdoms could also earn gold coins. Why not?
These supplies may be for the use of rebels and bandits, as many people know. In the conflict between the Alliance and the Horde on the two continents, who do you think is selling weapons and fuel?
The answer is self-evident.
Out of respect for the master craftsman, the tribe did not interfere too much with the goblins' development and destruction of the northern Barrens under the pretext of mining.
On the contrary, some goblins in Ratchet are well aware of the character of their fellow goblins. Some may even have secretly invested in them, while others may hate them for tarnishing the reputation of the Great Craftsman and the Trade Prince, thus affecting the cooperation between the Goblin Merchant Guild and the Horde.
The Orcish Horde officials may not be aware of the Great Rift and the Underground City; they are more focused on the strange phenomena on Ghostmist Peak, noticing that the oases in the Barrens are shrinking and the water sources are drying up.
In other words, the Horde's attention was mainly focused on the quilboars, centaurs, harpies, and shadow elves in the Ashenvale region. No one noticed the venture capital firm's underhanded dealings, so no one knew about the situation in Lorraine and the troll village.
......
"It seems to be a forgotten one!"
"Tribal emblem..."
"Oh no, should we notify the leader that there are tribal scouts here...?"
They stared at each other, like two living people staring at a dead man. The bandits noticed the tribal insignia that Lorraine had inadvertently revealed, an honorary rank, showing the insignia of a high-ranking soldier and a plague messenger.
Looking down, he realized that after all the commotion, his robes and disguise had become useless, his cloak was tattered, and the two magical weapons he had been using to disguise himself as a thief had been completely exposed.
This should also be one of the powerful corrosive effects of the green mist and poisonous cloud just now.
Lorraine's slender waist was revealed, but thankfully her magic backpack was intact.
All his treasures were carefully hidden, tightly bound to his body and welded to his chest, so that even if he jumped around, his money bag wouldn't break, scattering the less than three hundred gold coins he had accumulated in Lorraine to date...
Her upper body was unharmed, but the skirt and disguise on her lower body were gone. Even though the Blade of Crow and the Demon's Strike were stained with dirt and blood, their extraordinary nature was still evident.
"He looks like a scout. I hope the tribe won't beat us to it."
"Don't worry, the leader said there won't be any survivors here! If there are, kill them, go! Our brothers are all here, and we'll let you get the credit and the reward. The leader said it's 20 silver for a skull! A complete specimen is 1 gold coin, not bad, right?"
The dwarf comforted the troll henchman, who was somewhat afraid of the tribe. He shouted for him to go, but he himself remained still, shoving his troll companion with the handle of his knife, hoping that it would kill Lorraine.
Actually, Lorraine wasn't the only one present. He was dressed in rags and didn't look like a mage or any powerful figure.
Although he had two beautiful and stylish melee weapons stuck in his waist and legs, he didn't look like a nimble thief, but rather like a beggar or refugee who had crawled out of the ruins.
The two mercenaries from the venture capital firm didn't take Lorraine, a skinny guy, seriously at all, let alone an ordinary undead who looked thin, slovenly, and stupid.
Their men are rushing down; two greedy fellows are practically plunging vertically to the bottom of the valley by ropes, all in an attempt to gain the upper hand.
At this moment, however, he became humble, and the troll was naturally not foolish enough to be the first to stick his neck out.
It noticed that there seemed to be far more people alive in the village than it had imagined...
Behind Lorraine stood the black-armored Shadow Satyr Hell Knight. It neither summoned a mount nor picked up a weapon. Its weapon could grow out of thin air at any time, because its body, like a liquid robot, was cast from shadow power mixed with ores and demon blood, making it a creature that did not belong to the mortal world.
The scruffy, skinny guy is not worth mentioning, not even worth a roadside...
But the black-armored warriors beside it looked menacing, and the hundreds of thousands of troll hunters behind it, their bodies engulfed in purple and black flames, also wore fierce expressions. This time, they were truly enraged to the extreme; under the watchful eye of death, they had witnessed the souls of their people vanish...
The bodies of the tribesmen melted away directly. If this had happened half an hour or half a day ago, they would probably have scattered and fled.
Now that it has received the Shadow Infusion and has Lorraine's backing, the Flame of Vengeance burns fiercely.
The atmosphere was clearly off...
Another point is that wearing a rudimentary breathing mask as a protective measure to filter out poison gas grenades was actually a protective measure prepared after a significant amount of the green fog had dissipated.
This group of people clearly knew the dangers of the poisonous fog. Fortunately, after half a day, a natural wind from the Storm Altar dispersed the fog, at least thinning it out of the village so that it was no longer impossible to enter.
"They're still alive? Looks like those pharmacists were just bragging."
“I think so too. The team leader even said that this thing is extremely powerful and can kill instantly if you touch it, but look how many people are still alive! It’s fake, adulterated… and they’re even going to deduct our hard-earned money.”
"That's outrageous!"
"The effective ingredient content is so low, yet they still want us to put it in cannons. This increases the cost of a single shell by more than five times, and they still want to charge us for it. It's outrageous!"
"Exactly... exactly! Those unscrupulous capitalists always manage to pass on the costs. They even deduct our pay when we come to work as mercenaries! It's infuriating..."
......
"Sigh, looks like we'll have to put in a bit more effort, brothers. Stop standing around, get to work!"
The invading invaders, seeing the troll village survivors, their bodies corroded by the poisonous mist, each wounded and standing there dumbfounded like sheep awaiting slaughter, felt no fear or worry. They taunted each other, preparing to swarm and wipe out Lorraine and his lucky surviving group.
The troll warriors were grinding their teeth to powder; this wasn't the first time they'd encountered these true enemies.
Previously, it was just small-scale business, with some exchanges between them. Initially, they were warmly received, and there were several rounds of trade and communication. However, because it involved issues of faith and customs, they offended the village's traditions and even wanted to break into the Storm Altar to find some treasure.
The Storm Altar is an ancestral altar, not just an altar for trolls, but an ancient sacred site shared by the native inhabitants. It certainly contains treasures and magical powers.
That's why we definitely can't let the underground city's expedition team in...
The two sides quickly clashed due to their already strained communication. Outsiders were expelled, and those who sneaked in were sacrificed. Finally, they reached the point where they were locked in a life-or-death struggle.
The reason the troll shadow warriors and hunters didn't move was simply because their death god, Lorraine, hadn't given the order...
And that's because the enemy's main force and leader had only just stepped through the gates of the troll village.
.......