One of the many collectibles of Kilgardan the Fraudster, Oberline is an epic greatsword imbued with magical powers. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 Some say that its owner was a powerful warrior from another world, and after being defeated by Kil'Gardan, the sword became his trophy. Some say that this sword is a demonic blade created by the hands of swindlers, and it contains the power of destruction, destruction, and destruction. It is even rumored to have been forged from fragments of the broken sword of the fallen titan Sargeras. Whether the rumors are true or not, this is enough to prove that this is an extremely powerful magic sword. Because rumors and rumors are very snobbish, they only revolve around those who are strong, and ignore the weak, the weak.

This sword was found in the 'palace' of Kilgardan during the siege of the Sunwell Heights. I heard that it was later given to a man named the Inquisitor, and that the whereabouts of the sword were unknown after the Inquisitor's death. But I didn't expect to see it here, which was really amazing.

I saw a sword-wielder in heavy armor slowly walk out of the team and point the magic sword at me: "Death knight, in the name of honor, do you dare to fight me alone!" As he spoke, the other enemies had already retreated and stood behind him.

The sword-wielding man's words stunned me, and I was amused when I looked at this man who seemed to be from the Middle Ages. Hmph, they are all murderous executioners, and you are embarrassed to mention honor to me. However, I didn't refute him, but asked, "Heads-up, how do you say it?" ”

"If you win against me, I and my brethren will be at your disposal."

"Oh, what if I lose?"

"Then you will commit suicide to honor the souls of my fallen brothers in heaven!"

"Isn't there anything else to choose from?"

"Nope! Today is either you dead or we live! ”

"Heh, it seems that our brothers are going to die today."

"Don't talk nonsense, don't you dare!"

"Why don't you dare!"

As soon as I finished speaking, the sword-wielder rushed forward. As soon as he raised his hand, a flash of golden light suddenly appeared, and a war hammer composed of holy light energy smashed into my Heavenly Spirit Gai from top to bottom. I dodged and dodged, but before I could stand firm, the magic sword glowing green had already slashed at me with its head on top of it. I held my sword in both hands and struck him from the bottom up. There was a loud bang, and dazzling sparks flashed from the place where the two swords collided.

The sword in my hand is not a treasure, but it is not a piece of scrap metal. This longsword is a murderous weapon that has been carefully designed by the craftsmen of the Alliance and repeatedly quenched by the dwarven craftsmen. There are many legendary blades in the world that have been crafted by dwarves, such as the Holy Sword, the Ember Bringer, the former king of Ironforge, a sword that rivals the Frostmourning.

Of course, the longsword in my hand does not have the Rizeb Crystal, nor is it made by the Dwarven King himself, but it can be said to be perfect in terms of power and strength. Streamlined appearance, extremely sharp blade, just the right feel, tailored size. With the addition of my Great Death Knight's rune magic, it is even more powerful. It's extremely powerful, is there wood? It's so handsome, there's wood! This blade doesn't want 998, don't want 998! As long as 7800 points of conquest badge, you can take it home. What are you hesitating about, hurry up and find a few friends to play in the arena, dear!

The sword-wielder picked up the blocked magic sword and slashed it again, and I grabbed the medicine according to the prescription, still using the rune sword from the bottom to the top to greet him. But the other man pulled his sword back with both hands, dodging my oncoming blade, and then pushed the magic sword flat, cutting directly into my chest. Seeing this, I hurriedly pressed down the blade of my sword, barely blocking his blow.

When it comes to fighting other trash fish, I still seem to be at ease. But when I faced this paladin, I realized my own problem. In the fight, it was obvious that I couldn't keep up with my thoughts, and my strength was much inferior to before. Although I can still parry the opponent's attack now, I am not sure after a long time.

Could it be that my body hasn't recovered well, or is that weird portal having some bad influence on me?

I was anxious, but the other party was calm. He used his magic blade to frame my rune sword, and golden flashes began to appear around him, and then several huge golden warhammers appeared beside him. The hammers spun clockwise, like a divine storm of light.

After eating his magic attack, my chest felt stuffy for a while, and my throat and eyes began to sweeten, which was the rhythm of vomiting blood. But if a mouthful of blood spurts out, it won't be a shame. So I forced my breath and slashed desperately at the enemy in front of me.

The sword-wielder was obviously a little surprised to see that I could still attack quickly after receiving a Divine Storm, and the magic blade in his hand was also a little messy.

I don't know why my strength has weakened, but I still remember my years of fighting experience. Seeing that he was a little flustered, I took the opportunity to recite the runes, sealing his mind with dark magic, so that he could no longer use spells. I thought to myself: it's time to break out, I'll show you what it means to kneel in seconds!

In the state of rune enhancement, I slashed out the three skill annihilation strikes. These three powerful slashes could have killed the sword-wielder, but the runic sword in my hand was densely chipped by the long slash, and was finally cut off by the sword-wielding Oberlinen halfway through.

After blocking the sword-wielding's counter-attack, I swung my broken blade and slashed at his throat. He dodged backwards, dodging my blow. I held the sword in both hands and swung it with all my might before he could stand still.

The other party was obviously a veteran of the battlefield, and he dodged my attack when he fell down, and stabbed a sword along the way. The hilt of my sword pressed down, crushing his whizzing blade. Then there is the hard-to-go slash between the broken sword and the magic blade, and the-for-tat slash. After dozens of rounds of brute force confrontation, we both took a few steps back and looked at each other.

"Oh, what a strong force!" The sword-wielding's arm trembled.

"Oh, what a sharp magic sword." I held the rune sword that had been broken, and said with a bad feeling. Hey, true treasures don't weaken over time, and powerful weapons will remain powerful at all times. There's no way a deer in the Arctic can beat all the wolves in the Elwyn Forest, and there's no way I'll have the Arena Blade in my hand against that legendary artifact.

"Do you throw in the towel?" The sword-wielder pointed his magic sword at me once more.

"You can kill you with your bare hands." I said lightly.

"Don't be ashamed!" The sword-wielder tried to charge at me again.

Without waiting for him to move, I dragged him in front of me with the 'Grip of Death'. In his astonishment, I used the power of the frost to summon a dragon head composed entirely of ice crystals above my head. The dragon's head opened its mouth and spat out a burst of icy chill that enveloped the sword-wielder. I saw that his face turned from red to white, and from white to blue. The breath of life slowly passed through his body, and it was not long before he would become a cold corpse.

The dying sword-bearer did not give up, casting a holy shield spell to dodge my most powerful spell, Sindalgosa's Breath, and using holy healing to heal his own sickness. But when I saw his pale face and the worsening frostbite on his body, I knew that he wouldn't last long.

The sword-wielder begged the Light for power, and in response, the Light bestowed upon him the power of a Seraph. He frantically swung his magic blade, and from time to time threw a hammer of energy wrapped in lightning. And I just skilfully dodged, watching him slowly lose his strength, slowly lose his vitality.

Finally, the sword-wielder stopped slashing, and he held the magic sword in both hands, half-kneeling on the ground and gasping for air. The plague of frost had spread all over his body, and now he was struggling to speak.

"I don't want to kill you, you go." I said to the sword-wielder in front of me.

The sword-wielder snorted a mouthful of blood, and then staggered to his feet. He held the magic sword to his chest, stared at me with bloodshot eyes, and shouted, "The Holy Light is with me!" With that, he swung his blade at me again.

He stubbornly brandished his two-handed sword, no longer healing himself with holy light, but focusing all his mana and attention on attacking. Under the gaze of the Angel of Punishment, he had clearly turned into a sharp blade. He no longer hides behind a shield, he no longer bathes in the light. He began to sprint forward, fearlessly chasing and slashing. The current sword-wielder is not afraid of life and death, even if he becomes a corpse that falls on the way to the charge, he is not willing to hide in a safe corner and be a coward with **** wounds. I was also a paladin, so I can understand his mind. Because, every paladin has a heart of punishment.

But as time passed, the sword-wielder's physical strength began to wane. He was like a drunken man who had drunk too much, attacking indiscriminately. And I still dodged slightly, not fighting back. Several healers in his camp tried to cast healing spells on him, but he stopped them all with a sharp voice. Because this is his own battle, this is his highest honor as a paladin.

If I had followed my old character, I would have watched my enemies die with peace of mind, and watched them slowly die from my disease and plague. My teammates have given me countless times to ask me not to fight like this. Because this is not only cruel and unjust, but also time-consuming and labor-intensive. But I always insisted that this was my style, and I took pleasure in torturing my enemies.

But for some reason, I suddenly sympathized with the enemy today. Watching the sword-wielding man's painful struggle, watching him still resist stubbornly, I felt a little ashamed and blamed myself in my heart.

"Stop fighting, can't I admit defeat?" I looked sympathetically at the sword-wielding, but he remained unmoved, still stubbornly attacking me.

I stopped dodging and let his blade come at me. The blade slashed at my shoulder, but the blow was weak and weak. But enough was enough for the sword-wielding, and with a triumphant smile on his face, he slowly collapsed to the ground. Bursts of black blood gushed from the corners of his smiling mouth from time to time, and tears gradually appeared in the corners of his eyes.

I knelt down, gently held his head, and asked sadly, "We have no grievances and no enmity, and we could have avoided disputes." But what are you for? What is it for? ”

The sword-wielder slowly stretched out his hand, grabbed my shoulder, and said weakly, "For the alliance." "I just felt the hand holding my shoulder loosen, and then I saw that the sword-wielding man's eyes were closed.

"For the Union, for the Union." My heart repeated the words of the sword-wielder when he was dying, and the bitter and tangled taste was really indescribable.

"The cat cries and the mouse is fake mercy! What are you pretending! Since our regiment leader has lost, then our life is yours, and if you want to kill, you have to scrape and listen to your respect! If we wrinkle our heads, we're not gentlemen! A fighter shouted from the side. His eyes were as wide as copper bells, and the whites of his eyes were bloodshot, looking very vicious and vicious, but the uncontrollable eye water in his eyes revealed the grief and sadness in his heart.

"Go with the body of this warrior, he needs a glorious funeral." I admire these people in front of me, there are fierce and strong people everywhere in this world, but there are very few people who are fierce and disciplined. Even if they are reckless, brutal, rude, and arrogant, they are still good men, and they are a thousand times cuter than those well-mannered bastards who secretly make them bad.

The warrior did not thank him, but picked up the body of the sword-bearer and turned to leave. In the process of leaving, he said viciously: "We will definitely take revenge!" ”

The rest of the men also supported the wounded man and followed the warrior, and left without looking back.

"Hey, what the hell is this called?" Phoenix said with a sigh.

"It's just that there was an unclear battle." The paladin wiped the blood from his sword.

"It's not a war, it's a massacre!" The thief girl was a little excited, but she was also in the fight, so she didn't know what to say.

Redbeard took a pipe out of his pocket, took two puffs, and sat down on a large rock in silence.

I looked at the distant backs, and my heart was mixed. What to say, what to say? They attacked us without giving us a chance to explain. Then we didn't kill them all and let them live. We seem to be righteous, and they have hope of living, but at the cost of mutilated corpses all over the ground.

Before I could finish my sigh, an arrow sounded on the opposite hill, and in the blink of an eye, countless arrows slaughtered the defeated team. We hurried over, but we didn't see a single figure. The archers disappeared as if out of thin air, and there was no trace of them. Only a dozen stunned corpses remained, and feathered arrows that hunted in the wind.