Butcher walked alone to the dining room, where he passed by the various creatures he used to train and slaughter. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 info They are all locked in enclosures, pacing, rushing, or wandering impatiently. They roared and howled and closed their mouths in the hope that Butcher would be dinner.

On the other side were dormitories for slaves and other gladiators. There weren't just two gladiators, Butcher and Ricas, but thirty. On the one hand, these gladiators can be used to hone the fighting power of Butcher and Ricas, and on the other hand, they can attract attention and even absorb damage for them in the gladiatorial arena.

It was very quiet on this side, and neither the gladiators nor the slaves who served on the manor sat honestly, stood, and lay down, and none of them dared to speak loudly. When they saw Butcher, most of them smiled flatteringly, so that they could be beaten less during training or daily life. Of course, Butcher will have unlimited food tonight, and they want to sell it well, so they can get some from him and stock up on some good food.

The beast was still barking at Butcher, and the other side was still smiling quietly, and I didn't know which one was better. Butcher sighed, he couldn't think of an answer to this kind of question, if only Mike were here. He has a rather bizarre mind, and is definitely not bored when he is with him, and always has some novel perspectives to explain things.

But he has his own way out of these problems. "Shut up, or I'll slaughter you all for meat!" Butcher roared at the beast in the cage. In the past, this has been effective.

This will not make the beasts learn to behave, and they will never become as docile as their counterparts. A voice suddenly sounded in my head, gentle, beautiful, familiar, like my own wife who had been killed by a goblin.

Shut up!Butcher roared in his own head. "Stay away from me, go find your own peace, don't bother me!"

'I will always be with you, my love, my man. The voice continued, 'I call you husband, I call the father of your children, I call my heaven and earth.' I love you, Butcher. ’

"Fuck off, I don't know what's going on with you, but my wife wouldn't talk like that!" Butcher's eyes were red, and he pushed away to compliment his servant, ready to find a place to be quiet.

Naturally, I am not your wife, but her shadow in your heart. You know that, and I know it. Oh, how could I lie to you? I'm not like those ungrateful lowly worms who think they can hurt you with a sharpened piece of wood. ’

Butcher was startled and quickly dodged to the side, only to avoid the short wooden spear. The slave he had just pushed away was looking at him with fierce eyes. The short wooden spear then stabbed at him, and it was extremely weak in terms of strength and discipline. As soon as Butcher grabbed the wooden spear, he held the opponent in place. "Why?" he asked.

You never asked, you just did. The voice in his head still speaks, 'You're going to suffer, my butcher.' ’

A thump landed on the crook of his leg, and Butcher slumped to the side. More than one person! He knew in his heart that this must have been a premeditated attack. Maybe it's for money, maybe it's for fighting political opponents, maybe it's just for fun, but there is only one goal, and that is your own life.

With a low drum beat in his throat, Butcher pulled the wooden spear over, and by the way, the servant as well. He lifted the man with his shoulder, used it as a weapon, lifted it up and began to spin. The guy with the stick breaks the stick on Butcher's body and gets his head smashed by the flying meteor (hammer).

In fact, the two heads exploded together, and after a bang, red, white, yellow, and black mixed into a cloud of mist. Someone else rushed over.

'Kill them, kill them all!' the voice became hideous, no longer his wife, but Butcher himself.

"Kill!" Bucher did not retreat, but advanced, hammered the man in his hand to both sides, and carried half of his body in his left and right hands, and rushed towards the enemy. His body turned red again, like the setting sun shining on it again, like blood, like fire.

The wiser hurried to hide away, and the smarter ones put themselves in cages, hugging and trembling with the beasts that were more sensitive to danger.

You're going to win, always. The voice rang in my head again: 'But you don't get what you want, you never get.' Your end is already predestined, and like everyone else, you will embrace defeat in victory and die. ’

"Shut up, shut up!" Butcher's muscles swelled again, and he was as majestic as a demon king crawling up from hell. A circle of white light surrounded his skull, a manifestation of a psychic eruption. With each muscle expansion, the circle of light contracted, trying to calm Butcher down. The flesh and the mind, the beast and the reason, are at war in a constant conflict of contradictions. Butcher was a born berserker, but always looked for peace of mind. In the past, he had failed repeatedly and had no choice, but now the psychic ability opened a new door for him. Rikas chose to use psychic abilities to make himself more powerful, and Butcher chose to use psychic abilities to make himself more controlled.

Calm down!, Butcher said to himself. The wavering voice in my head wasn't me, and neither was my constant threatened body. Mike said that controlling oneself requires calmness first, even in a rage, even if the mountain collapses in front of one's nose. It's not Kelmanga here, something like that is enough once!

The panicked servant found Tessian, where he saw the High Templar fitting Rikas with a prosthetic leg. The Moors fell to their knees, tears streaming down their faces, their shoulders shaking, but they held their arms firmly. He no longer has his right hand, and if he can't make this telescopic longsword prosthetic leg, it will be a joke to try to win. He lowered his head, gritted his teeth, and looked at the floor, in the blood, at his thirty-year-old right hand, which could no longer be used.

The servant was stunned by this scene and choked. The minotaur smiled slightly, carried Tessian, and quietly rubbed his fingers. The slave was in a trance for a while, and suddenly shouted loudly: "Master, something is wrong! The slave has rebelled!"

Tessian's hand shook, and the prosthetic leg re-cut the wound and fell to the ground. Rikas was hit hard again, and the green tendons in his neck were about to explode, and he bit his tongue to prevent himself from crying out. He knew that if he yelled too, he would be disgusted by Tessian, and he might not even have the opportunity to compete.

With a wave of his hand, the High Templar flew out with a long whip strengthened by psychic powers, smashing the servant's mouth and face. "Waste, what a shout!" he put the whip away, picked up the prosthetic sword on the ground as if nothing had happened, and then looked at the wound and shook his head. "It's not easy to install. ”

"Master, it's okay, I can hold back. Rikas swallowed the blood from his mouth and reached out to wipe the sweat from his head. "I'm going to fight for you to win, even if I die, I don't hesitate, what's some pain?"

"Well, that's right. Tessian adjusted the angle of his prosthetic sword and stabbed Rikas into his wound again. "You have to concentrate on cooperating with me, and there will naturally be guards outside. Just a slave, can you turn the sky upside down?"