With a frenzied-like skill... A calm battle after the madness... Close to epic combat power... Magical patterns in the shape of a wolf's head......

These characteristics allow the Night's mind to construct a model that is close to 75% complete, faintly overlapping with an influence in the memory bank.

Those weren't magic patterns, they were stigmata!

The orc warrior in a bear's skin is the chosen one of the orc gods, and the wolf head symbol means that he is the chosen one of the wolf gods.

The second god of the orc god line, the lord of the wind, the father of the wolves, and the mount of the lord of the tyranny of the orcs, the wolf god Wolf Saga, is one of the most crazy gods even in the orc god line, which is known for its barbarism and tyranny.

It's not a good thing to mess with this god, and there is no need to destroy his chosen ones if they don't target the clan, but judging by the news from the Blood Axe, this chosen person is even more malicious than the average orc.

Without any joy in his heart, Cangye had to plan a response in advance for this potentially fierce wolf.

……

On the breezy steppe, Grosh, who was seriously wounded, vomited blood all the way.

It was dusk, and the sun was about to end, and the sun was giving off its last mournful light, and the light was rapidly peeling away from the grassland, and darkness was descending.

A loud wolf howl rang out from the hills in the distance.

The night is the world of the descendants of the wolf god, and the paradise of all the cruel predators who chase the grassland.

Suddenly—

A few pairs of green eyes emerged one by one in the faded meadow, listening closely to Grosch, their noses fluttering, and the seductive scent of blood made the wolf cubs' eyes full of greed and longing.

They are wolves, the most dangerous of the pack.

Grosh slammed his chest, and the clumped blood spurted out, making the orc's expression instantly become sluggish, but his body was undoubtedly much lighter.

On one side of his cheek, the magic pattern ...... No! It should be said that the stigma manifested again, and the breath of divinity outlined a lifelike wolf's head.

The coercion suddenly spread, and the wolf's ferocity instantly became fearful and fanatical, and it raised its head to the sky and let out a loud howl.

Soon, howls rang out one after another throughout the grassland, and countless wolves responded to pay the highest respect to the messenger of the Father, to whom even the king of the race had to submit for a moment.

The corners of his mouth curled slightly, revealing a somewhat mocking smile, and Grosch spoke:

"Go and tell your collaborators that there is an alien invasion of this grassland, and it is God's will to destroy them!"

The howls of wolves rang out all over the mountains.

For a moment, the entire Wild Wolf Plain was in a state of boiling.

In the frenzied wolves, the mysterious orc Grosh has long since disappeared.

During the battle with the Blood Axe, he was wounded too badly, and the [Divine Shock] inflicted a violent blow on the organs in his body through his body, almost shattering it on the spot.

The wolf's head stigmata continued to shine, and the organs that should have been shattered miraculously contained the injury, the pacing force became more and more powerful, and the wound was healing at an incredible speed.

Thinking back to the terrifying figure of the orc, Grosh still had lingering palpitations.

When did the orcs also appear with such a terrible hero? There is absolutely no such existence in the Eastern Continent! Where did these orcs come from?

A series of questions haunted Grosch's mind. But his curiosity wasn't going to be applied to this boring puzzle game, he had more important things to do.

These orcs have their compatriots here to solve it instead of me, and the interest that God has left for this game will soon be exhausted!

……

The slaves who were freed and returned to their communities were not at first embraced by excitement, but by bewilderment, and were not grateful to their fellow citizens who warmly accepted them, but more fearful and overwhelmed.

It is difficult to find the seeds of freedom in the hearts of those who have been enslaved for generations, and even fewer have allowed them to take root and thrive, so the birth of a hero like the Blood Axe is even more precious.

However, this situation is easy to solve, let them join the labor as soon as possible, provide more abundant food than usual, free from scourging and abuse, and finally have other orcs verbally soothe.

When they had enough food and clothing, they were able to appreciate the value of freedom on their own, and they transformed from orc slaves to true orcs.

Of the 5,000 liberated compatriots, almost four-fifths of them are young and middle-aged laborers, and there is no old age, weakness or disability.

Slave owners generally preferred strong slaves who could participate in labor, females as tools for fertility, children as spare laborers or tools, and the old, weak, sick and disabled as useless burdens.

Although cruel, the group of slaves accepted by the clan was quite excellent in all aspects.

Especially a large number of young and middle-aged people, after a little training and armament, they are a group of usable combat power, and the Blood Axe has planned to expand the number of clan warriors to five thousand, a standard legion establishment.

Nightshade came to the Candlelight Guardian's residence.

It was just a small clearing surrounded by a few simple straw huts and animal skin tents, and at this moment in this small clearing, the continuous sound of sharp wind and crisp metal knocking could be heard.

Walking forward, Hel, armed with a straight-edged saw, was facing the onslaught of more than three Candlefire Guardians.

The three divine guards have one legend and two quasi-legends, and their incomparable tacit cooperation with each other coupled with the attack of wanting to kill people, Hull was defeated and retreated, and he was already scarred.

However, from beginning to end, Hel only used ordinary combat skills and martial arts against the enemy, and did not use the Remnant Yang Dao swordsmanship, which was equally huge in terms of damage and consumption.

Despite the fierce attack, the three divine guards always maintained a certain degree of restraint, exerting pressure on Hull little by little, with the obvious purpose of drawing out the potential of this inheritor of the will of the gods.

At least in the eyes of the night, Hull's sword speed was about twice as fast as before.

The Blood Fang, who was watching the battle, felt the abrupt breath and got up to greet the night.

"What do you need us to do?"

Bloodfang's appearance was that of a rough male orc, his face was filled with intricate scars, one of which pierced his left eye, and he looked hideous and terrifying, but other than that, his voice was as vicissitudes as the flail.

Cangye smiled and replied:

"Not yet, I'm just here to know about some of the Blades."

Touching his bare head, Bloody Fang thought for a moment and replied:

"It's been three hundred years since we left the Blade, and we don't know what has happened in the past three hundred years."

"It's okay, I just want to know what it was like three hundred years ago."

Then, the Bloody Fang slowly recounted to the night:

"That was 800 years ago, after the death of God ...... war"