…… Chapter 103: The End of Sin

It was as if there was a hole in the sky all of a sudden, and the rain that Sal had predicted was pouring down

Blackmore's dark hair clung to his head in the rain, and his feet slipped on the muddy ground of the castle's atrium. The wind staggered him. He forced himself to move his legs constantly, and there was only one way out of this bloody and noisy hell - his secret passage

"Why is this happening? Why is this happening?" roared Blackmore's heart. The green-skinned orcs who shook the gate on the other side should be the leader of his army, and the guy who roared Blackmore's name over and over there should be his tamed loyal slave

Along the way, Blackmore didn't look back at all, he didn't dare to see the warhammer picked up by Thrall the next moment he turned back, he was afraid that the next moment he turned back would make him lose the opportunity to escape, and Blackmore was lucky, he always encountered scattered human guards and guards on the way he fled. These soldiers, who did not know enough about the current situation, saw their lord being chased by an "orc wolf cavalry", and all of them rushed forward one by one, in a vain attempt to show their loyalty and gain the lord's appreciation

It's a pity that in the face of the furious Thrall, there is only a dead end, and the hammer of destruction can fly up and down almost every hammer can take away a life, and the strength of these human guards is completely insufficient in Sal's eyes, but even so, with the interference and obstruction of these people, it still delays a lot of time for Blackmore......

After Thrall had gone on a killing spree to solve the troubles along the way, Blackmore, who had fled for his life, finally entered his mansion. Before he could catch his breath, the trembling fellow, suppressed by the threat of death, rushed to the desk and fumbled for the key with trembling fingers. Before reaching the secret door hidden behind the mural, a panicked Blackmore dropped the key twice on the ground, tears rolling down uncontrollably, and he finally inserted the key into the keyhole.

The secret door was opened, and Blackmore jumped down in spite of it, completely forgetting that there was a staircase below, and he rolled all the way down; However, under the influence of the alcohol, he fell limply like an old doll, but this helped him so much that he eventually suffered only a few abrasions. The light from his study could only illuminate a few yards from the entrance to the secret passage, and the faint light beyond it seemed to be swallowed up by the secret passage, and Blackmore's eyes were already dark.

He should have brought an oil lamp, Blackmore, who was on the run, suddenly popped into his mind such a seemingly ridiculous thought, but now it was too late to think about it, many things were too late, shook his head, and threw these meaningless thoughts to the back of his mind, Blackmore pulled out his legs and ran desperately. The secret door at the end of the tunnel should not be locked, he can run out, escape into the woods and wait until the killing here subsides, and then come back, he can still ...... He didn't know, the boundless fear made his brain muddy, and he could have done something else anyway.

Suddenly, the earth shuddered again, and Blackmore, who had been running for his life, fell to the ground in a hurry, and fine pieces of stone and dirt fell on him. When the sudden tremor passed, a thick cloud of dust floated in the air, and Blackmore coughed incessantly. He relieved himself, stood up, and continued to stretch out his hand to rush forward. His fingers slammed into a large rock a few yards ahead. The hidden tunnel collapsed in front of him. Blackmore frantically tried to dig it open with both hands, but after only a few moments, he collapsed drenched in sweat and blood from his hands.

"What to do? Edras Blackmore, what should you do? What did you do to get this ending? Blackmore, who was in fear, asked himself as he was already soaked in rain and sweat, and asked himself a strand of hair stuck to his head. Despair had taken over his heart, and a faint trace of guilt kept emerging.

The ground shook again, guilt and fear were no match for survival, and Blackmore instinctively jumped up and turned back towards his study. There was a terrible noise in the air, and with a palpitating shake, the tunnel behind Blackmore collapsed. Fear drove him to run wildly, the tops of the tunnels slamming into the ground just a yard or two behind him, like a beast chasing after him.

As Blackmore climbed the last few stairs and rolled out of the tunnel like a ball, the tunnel behind him collapsed completely. The ground beneath his feet kept trembling, as if it would never stop again. Finally, the ground fell silent. Blackmore lay motionless on the floor, pressed his face against the luxurious carpet, gasping like a dead dog.

And at this moment, a sword that came from nowhere, "bell" pierced the wooden floor a few inches in front of his nose, making a buzzing sound and trembling. Raising his head, Blackmore saw the figure he least wanted to see at the moment, which made him fear and despair

With the light above, Blackmore almost forgot how tall Jì Sal was. Thrall, dressed in jet-black plate armor and armed with a ruining hammer, looked down at him like the mountains looked down on the ground beneath his feet...... Did he really ever insult and torture this powerful and burly orc? "Sal," Blackmore stammered, looking at the figure he had cultivated and trained single-handedly, "I can explain......"

"No," said Sal in a cold tone that was more chilling to Blackmore than anger, "you can't explain it. There is nothing to explain at all. There will only be one battle left between us. A life-and-death contest. Pick up your sword like a man."

Blackmore struggled to pull his disobedient legs, leaning back and dragging his body on the ground. He said tremblingly, "I...... I ......"

"Take up the sword," Sal repeated, his voice deep and deep, "or I'll slaughter you coward now"

At the end of the pursuit, Thrall enlisted the help of the Earth Spirit, summoning an earthquake to seal the tunnel, forcing Blackmore to return the way he came. While waiting for him to return, Thrall angrily kicked through the room, clearing out a small area where they could finally break off.

Blackmore stretched out a chaff-like hand and fumbled for the hilt of his sword.

Very well, Sal thought to see the scene in front of him. At least Blackmore intends to satisfy his desire to fight, if only killing Blackmore, who has no will to resist, will disgrace Sal and make Sal lose the thrill of revengeSal stares at Blackmore's stumbling steps. Is this really the man he admired and feared when he was younger? He couldn't believe it. The man was mentally and physically weak. A glimmer of compassion swept over Sal's heart, but it was not enough to wash away the atrocities that Blackmore had committed.

"Come on, let the end of a qiē pay for what you did," Sal growled.

Blackmore gasped and stood up, and now the ferocity in Blackmore's heart was also aroused, and he decided to teach this disobedient slave a good lesson in the appearance of a master. His movements were quicker and more focused than Thrall had expected, and the unexpected whirring sound of his greatsword forcing Thrall to react quickly to dodge the attack seemed to wake up the lord of Dunhold. His face gradually showed anger and decisiveness, and his steps became more methodical. He slashed to the left and slammed into Thrall's right. However, Sal was effective in sealing off the rather threatening onslaught.

Without hesitation, Thrall stepped forward with the hammer, much to Sal's surprise and slight joy, Blackmore still had the strength to parry, and the ruined warhammer was barely parried by the greatsword, a blow that only made Blackmore stagger. As if sensing his weakness, Blackmore began to look for something that could be used as a shield.

"Hide like a coward," Sal grunted, ripped the door and handed it to Blackmore.

If this door is used as a shield for a minotaur like Old Tang, it would be fine, but it is undoubtedly too big for humans. Blackmore angrily pushed away.

"It's not too late, Thrall," Blackmore was still trying his last best to convince the powerful orcs in front of him, "we can still work together." I can release those orcs if you promise them to fight for me as you do."

Hearing Blackmore's ridiculous words of unrepentance, Sal became enraged, and Blackmore seized the opportunity to stab Sal in the chest. Thrall, who was affected by his anger, failed to dodge in time, and had to flip the sword that destroyed Miè's warhammer and parried the attack.

"Aren't you awake, Blackmore, if you think you can go through the ordeal that I and my people have to go through?"

Sal's eyes were blood-red again, and he was overwhelmed by the images of his memories. He had tried to restrain himself and decided to give Blackmore a chance at a fair duel, but now he had thrown those thoughts out of the clouds. Anger overflowed like a raging endless sea in the wind and rain. With a loud shout, Thrall launched a final onslaught on Blackmore. Every attack he made, every roar of rage, brought to life the pain that the man in front of him had inflicted on him.

In just a few blows, Thrall's warhammer blow shattered the hastily parried Blackmore's jaw, dislocated his wrist, and he was no longer able to hold on to his sword. The long history of decay and luxury of aristocratic life had long since hollowed out the body of the man who had been on the battlefield, leaving him weak and vulnerable, and when Thrall finally forced Blackmore into a corner, the desperate man drew a dagger from under his boot and stabbed him in the face, almost stabbing him in the eye. With a vengeful roar, Thrall kicked Blackmore over, then picked up Blackmore's detached sword and stabbed the man deep in the chest

Blood splattered

Blackmore, who was mortally wounded by a sharp blade through the chest, did not die immediately. He fell to the ground, gasping for breath, spurting dark red blood from his mouth. Blackmore's fingers grasped weakly at the mouth that was spewing red. Raising his head and staring at Sal, his eyes flashing with the last of his life, to Sal's surprise, the man who had been a nightmare in Sal's memory squeezed out a satisfied smile.

"Are you...... I groomed you...... You make me proud......" Blackmore muttered intermittently, spitting blood, and then slumped limply onto the carpet, the white velvet carpet beneath him instantly stained red with blood.

Blackmore died, killed by his former "pet", a slave, by the hands of the great chieftain of the tribe he had raised

Looking at Yiqiē in front of him in a daze, Sal was a little dazed. His greatest enemy in life so far died...... This man who has had countless entanglements with his life...... He killed him with his own hands...... This qiē made Sal feel unreal.

"How does it feel to be a bladed enemy?"

A low, heavy voice sounded in the back of Sal's head, instantly recovering Sal from a daze. Turning around with a "bang", Thrall, who raised his war hammer and assumed a defensive posture, gave up his vigilance and breathed a sigh of relief after seeing the comer's face clearly in the next second. The trance state after killing Blackmore just now was too dangerous on the battlefield, and if it wasn't this person behind him just now, but any enemy, maybe he would have to repeat the mistake of destroying the hammer

This person is none other than Old Tang, who doesn't know when he arrived here. At this moment, Old Tang was leaning on the door frame with a huge cigar in his mouth and spitting out clouds, splashed with blood and sticky filth, and it could be seen that in order to rush here to support Sal, Old Tang was not idle on the way.

Sal didn't answer immediately, but thought carefully before responding to Don's question. "I have to do that, ahem," Sal took a deep puff from Don's cigar and choked on his cough, and after a moment a frowning Sal whispered, "Blackmore is like a living prison, not only for me, but for many others," he hesitated, "before killing him, he ...... He said he was proud of me. I was trained by him. Goode, my friend, I was shocked by this thought."

"There is no doubt that you were raised by Blackmore," Old Tang stared into Sal's eyes and replied seriously, and Old Tang's answer made Sal feel surprised and disgusted, Old Tang stepped forward and patted Sal lightly on the shoulder, and said with a solemn face:

"And at the same time, you are also cultivated by Taresha, and sergeant, and hell roar, and the hammer of destruction, and Drektar, and even Xuege, you are raised by every battle and every tribulation you go through, and you are the one who cultivates yourself...... Great Chief of the Saar Tribe"

Chapter 103: The End of Sin

Chapter 103 The End of Sin, to URL M