Chapter 1033 Caledor’s Backbone
"Just him?"
Oloden, who was deeply favored by the Witch King, asked his compatriots in a low voice. He had heard in advance that an Asur would participate in the blade ceremony.
After the information revealed by the Witch King Ruoyo Ruowu, the participants believed that Assur should be a captured noble, and forced him to participate in the blade ceremony to humiliate Caledor.
But the situation was beyond many people's expectations. Oliveira's reputation was quite prominent, but some Drucci did not think it was much of a threat.
Upon hearing Oloden's inquiry, the elf covering his face with a black spiked mask sneered, "He's the only one."
Oloden also showed a cruel smile. He focused his vision on the Witch King above the canyon. He saw Malekith looking down at the entire duel field surrounded by the Black Guard and the Phoenix Guard. The person who won this blade ceremony would receive An opportunity to serve the Phoenix King personally.
"I will peel off his skin with my own hands to see the difference between the Caledor nobles who are bleeding with the blood of dragons and us Druzi."
"You are wrong. He is not the Dragon Prince."
"Huh?" Oloden's eyes widened, looking extremely surprised by this information. Wasn't Caledor supported by a group of dragon princes?
The masked man didn't explain too much, his eyes kept wandering around Oliveira's body, as if he wanted to find a fatal weakness.
"Don't let up. His sword is no less powerful than the Dragon Prince's lance. Many people died in Oliveira's hands, including Mokamas."
Oroden showed dignity, and Mokamas, the blade lord who has been famous for a long time in Naggaroth. Only opponents who have actually fought with him can understand the power of that executioner's sword.
After making some fierce remarks, Oliveira reached out and took off his helmet, exposing a face with many minor wounds to the air.
He had heard the prince boast during a palace banquet that the truly strong men did not wear helmets, which would affect the gods' protection of them.
Take off your helmet and the gods you believe in and seek to protect you will be noticed.
The act of taking off the helmet seemed to be a more serious provocation in Druchi's eyes. Verbal ridicule was just the lame method Asul was good at, but to give up a piece of protective gear that had a substantial effect was to really look down on Druch. Qi's warrior.
As usual, the participants in the ceremony can communicate a little before the slave sacrifices his life for Edreeze, focusing on which high-threat target to attack first, or intentionally avoiding the battle, which are all options for dueling.
But the addition of Oliveira added some changes to the ceremony. The fearless one walked on the outside, sparing no effort to verbally attack the silent Drucci, first crushing his opponent from the psychological level, and then crushing him from the physical level. This is the way of a warrior.
"Cliard? I made you run away on the battlefield last time. This time, your blood will be the new victim in my title."
"Fun, you're a bastard who has mated with cold lizards. The stench on your body only makes me want to leave. What kind of mentality does your mother have to allow you to sleep in her bed?"
"Petty, women should not appear in the duel. Your Druchi women are just breeding tools, giving birth to freaks and hybrids for the originally beautiful and pure world."
Theoretically speaking, Asul would at least care about his face and image, and would not utter serious insults to his enemies even on the battlefield.
But Oliveira's experience is a bit special. He has lived with a group of northern barbarians for many years, which made him deeply learn the essence of insults in human society. Greetings must include family members. If that is not enough, then add some indescribable things. organ.
The continuous rhetoric only made Oliveira's mouth a little thirsty and did not elicit any reaction from Druzi. Before the Witch King issued a decree, they could not send death to Asul, who spoke freely.
The bickering finally subsided, and hundreds of slaves were led to the center of the arena, including Old World humans, beastmen, and northern Norscan barbarians.
But Asul, who was supposed to be the most important tribute, actually didn't have one.
This made Oliveira look sideways at Malekith, thinking that this was just a false kindness, thinking that after claiming the throne of the Phoenix King, elves should not be used as sacrifices.
But if you really want to make the elves stronger, the best way is to die as soon as possible.
As the blood flow spread to every corner of the arena, Oliveira took off the leather bag from his waist, which was filled with inferior wine from his hometown of Windhowling City. The dregs produced by the Ronin family winery were sold in the market. It's hard to buy online.
After hearing about the fearless man's determination, the Archmage took the time to personally deliver a pot of old wine.
The sour taste entered his mouth, arousing endless memories, from being a marginal figure in the Wind Howling City defense army to being lucky enough to enter the claws of Patunyuin after countless blood and sweat, and accidentally picking up an Annihilation Lord. head.
To the resolute back of Captain Halifax before his death...
He did not drink the last sip of wine, but pointed the mouth of the wine bottle to the ground to mourn the deceased.
Oliveira looked down at the ground with a calm expression, allowing Drucci to guess what he was thinking.
"I may die, but I will never die in humiliation. Let me be the beginning of an epic battlefield! Let me prove to the world that the backbone of Caledor is not just the Dragon Prince!"
The sound of the horn made Oliveira raise her head, take out the standard magic sword that symbolized noble status from behind, and hold it vertically on the ground with both hands.
"Under my feet is Ulthuan. As the son of Caledor, I will never take a step back!"
The Witch King had a look of admiration on his face. Even though Caledor had caused him countless troubles, he still had thoughts about the Dragon Prince in his heart. If he wanted to gain power comparable to his father, the Dragon Kingdom was indispensable.
But he never thought that Caledor Azul, who was not a dragon prince, would actually have such determination and lofty beliefs.
He nodded to Kuran Blackhand, indicating that it was time to begin.
The loyal Kuran walked to the front of the platform and calmly stated the order.
"The warriors of the Phoenix King, under the gaze of Edreze's blade, bring death to the fearless Oliveira!"
This ceremony is no longer simply about selecting the master of the blade, but a fight between Druchi and Assur. Malekith cannot allow Oliveira to kill even one Druchi on the field. If he is under siege, Doesn't it mean that Asul is stronger than Druchi if he always has room to fight back?
To put it another way, isn't it that Imrik, the usurper, is stronger than the orthodox Phoenix King?
The fastest ones are none other than the Killing Sisters who have been fighting in the duel field all year round. The lunatics wearing only fig leaves ran towards Oliveira at high speeds holding spiked whips and daggers, their scarlet eyes full of excitement.
What could be more exciting to Druzi than hearing the painful scream of an Asur? (End of chapter)