"Ah, you're here, Mr. Grovey!" After seeing Yang Long appear, Wendsol strode forward head-on, and said with a strange smile on his face, "I thought you would have to wait a while before you came back." ”

In the past six months, every member of the Second Legion has called Yang Long "Mr. Grofe", and it is obvious that Wendsol has revealed his real name.

Addressing each other by their last name is a very versatile method of communication, which is neither affectionate nor disgusting.

However, when these words came out of Wendsol's mouth, Yang Long always felt a very abrupt feeling, and after waiting for a while, he was about to tell the meaning, but he noticed something that a sergeant was moving.

It was a handful of spices with a faint fragrance.

Compared with the stormy Stormgard Kingdom, the regular legions of the Stormwind Kingdom have many types of troops that are very complete with land and air, and both the number and quality of soldiers cannot be said in a day.

Even the Second Legion, which is close to being abandoned, has hundreds of griffins, and even against the Dragons, it may not be in absolute disadvantage.

However, because griffons are naturally ferocious and prefer fresh blood and raw meat, they are very unfavorable to management and domestication, and even the riders who accompany them day and night may be ruthlessly attacked by them.

The use of this spice is similar to a tranquilizer, every time the griffin eats, a small amount is added to make it obey the command at all times.

However, in order to prevent the griffin from hurting people, the mountain rock where the griffin lives. It is at least seven or eight kilometers away from the castle.

Although this spice is a precious material, it is a very unreasonable thing to appear in the castle that is the headquarters headquarters, which makes Yang Long feel a little weird.

"How can this kind of thing be" Yang Long pondered for a moment with some confusion, suddenly thought of something and seemed to tremble, turned around and swept towards the things stacked in the room, his face suddenly gloomy.

He didn't pay attention when he entered this house just now, but after taking a closer look, Yang Long found that these stacked items were actually just enough to fill half of his space ring.

Meat and spices eaten by griffins. A large number of bundles of war reports and official documents. There were also tens of thousands of family letters, like a sledgehammer hitting Yang Long's head fiercely, making him feel a gold star in his eyes.

These things are absolutely impossible to rush it, apparently the fighters of the Second Legion. It's been a few days since I was preparing for these things. This means that Wendsol already knows about Yang Long's departure.

Even the time to leave. Wendsol is also clear.

"You guy" Yang Long felt a little difficult to breathe, and asked in a deep voice word by word, "How do you know that I am leaving today?"

Since coming to this world, Yang Long has encountered many disasters one after another. In just over ten years, he has experienced adventures that ordinary people may not encounter in a lifetime.

Especially the hallucinations that appeared from time to time at that time, as well as the discomfort that Yang Long felt in recent years, a feeling of being controlled by the mastermind behind the scenes, made his seemingly tenacious nerves already in a state of tension all the time.

The journey to Stormwind City, which lasted for nearly ten years, was a trick that made Yang Long feel panicked.

Ever since he fought to the death with the adventurer, and that undead adventurer died inexplicably, Yang Long had tried hundreds of times to recall why decisions were made everywhere, but he was at a loss hundreds of times.

Now the marshal in front of him, who seemed to be talking nonsense and spoke without finding the edge, every word he said hit Yang Long's heart, as if all his actions had already been predicted.

How can this not make Yang Long crazy?!

However, for Yang Long's question, Wendsol did not answer immediately, first gestured for the soldiers to leave, and then found a wooden chair and sat down with a smile and said, "Mr. Yang Long, do you believe that this is the arrangement of fate?"

Wendsol's answer made Yang Long's forehead jump, and he couldn't hold back the mania in his heart anymore.

With his left hand, he grabbed the gray-black metal heavy sword in the space ring, and Yang Long took a step back without thinking, and slashed at Wendsol's forehead.

Although this attack was very fast, but for a pseudo-super-rank powerhouse, this speed was still too slow, Yang Long's sword blade had just swung to the top of Wendsol's head, and the middle-aged man had already taken a step forward and slammed his foot on Yang Long's sword hilt.

So Yang Long felt a huge force, and roughly made the black metal heavy sword break free from his clenched hands, and thud~ thud into the stone bricks of the ceiling.

"Hmph!" Yang Long, who had been frustrated in his attack, snorted coldly, and as soon as he raised his left arm and flipped his palm, a light red flame appeared in the palm of his hand, ready to release the flame magic of indiscriminate attack.

It's a pity that this time's offensive intent was still seen through by Wendsol in advance, and the flame in the palm of his hand had just appeared, and before he could condense and transform into magic, the middle-aged marshal's right hand grasped Yang Long's left hand.

Z -

A wisp of green smoke wafted up with the smell of meat, and Wendsol successfully extinguished Yang Long's unformed magic at the cost of being burned in his palm, if Yang Long forcibly released it, the biggest possibility was that the magic would explode directly, shattering the palms of both at the same time.

"Damn!" Yang Long's face remained unchanged, but he cursed secretly in his heart, weighing whether to spell it out.

With the Holy Light as his hole card, Yang Long was not worried about becoming disabled at all, but when he saw Wendsol's smiling face and deep dead eyes, he finally gave up.

Someone with this kind of look would never be bored to tease him, and Windsor was on the defensive from beginning to end, without making any offensive moves.

In just two rounds, Wendsol has already shown remarkable combat experience, and if he wanted to attack, Yang Long might have been beaten down long ago.

"Oh, why don't you continue?" Yang Long's sudden stop made Wendsol a little surprised, and after carefully observing the young man in front of him, the middle-aged marshal took a step back and let go of his right hand.

Looking at Yang Long with a gloomy face, Wendsol hesitated for a moment, and then said slowly: "I want to make it clear that I didn't know in advance about your combat ability. ”

"What kind of nonsense are you talking about" Yang Long shook his hand impatiently, and after scolding in an unkind tone, he suddenly understood Wendsol's intentions, and the dissatisfaction on his face quickly faded.

Wendthor seemed a little surprised by this, but then smiled and sat down gently back in the wooden chair.

The battle of just a few seconds before made Yang Long's joy after being promoted to the high level and his strength improved in an instant, which made him very unhappy for a while.

In several battles over the past ten years, Yang Long has suffered several large and small losses due to the difference in strength, but he has not suffered setbacks in combat skills, at most it only makes him feel tricky.

And today's battle with Wendsol, as well as the seemingly provocative explanation of this middle-aged marshal, made Yang Long suddenly understand a truth that he originally knew, but did not pay enough attention to.

That is, the skills of combat inheritance are mutually reinforcing.

Due to Yang Long's spell casting methods that were different from those of Azeroth's professionals, as well as the hand-to-hand combat methods of his previous life, the enemies Yang Long faced from before were very unsuitable for his combat rhythm.

But after reaching Wendsol's level, just a few simple changes in combat methods are not so important.

Carefully recalling the previous battle between the two, Yang Long was intercepted in a close combat, and the instant spell casting that gave Yang Long's many enemies a headache still needed such an "instant" kung fu after all.

This world is composed of magic and swords, and after tens of thousands of years of development, after a large number of strong people appeared, everything that could be unearthed was almost completed.

Maybe Yang Long's attack methods are special, or maybe Yang Long's instantaneous spell casting is impossible to prevent, but as long as it is related to swords and magic, some strong people in this world will not find a way to crack it.

Windsor is one of them, and definitely won't be the only one.

This is true of magic, swordsmanship, holy light, and other energy bodies inherent in Azeroth, and if you want not to be easily pinched by your enemies, you have to rely on things that have never appeared in this world.

"It seems that strength is my foundation!" Yang Long's heart was empty, and his restless aura calmed down.

After completely regaining his composure, Yang Long walked around the room, put all the items into the space ring, found a wooden chair and sat down, the whole person was calm and silent, full of confidence.

"Marshal Wendsol, do you have anything you need me to do?" Yang Long was still in a bad mood, and asked in a cold voice: "If it's not too troublesome, it will be regarded as a reward for you saving me." ”

Knowing such an Achilles heel, no matter how ungrateful Yang Long's temperament was, he still felt a debt to Wendsol, which made him take the initiative to ask for something in return.

However, Wendsol didn't seem to take Yang Long's words seriously, and after touching the burn on his right palm, he began to say again with a smile: "Mr. Yang Long, do you believe in fate?"

"I don't believe it. Yang Long replied quickly, and there was no impatience in his tone.

"Well, it was the same when I was younger. Windthor grinned, suddenly putting away that strange smile, and said solemnly, "Until that day, I participated in the attack on the Guardians of Azeroth. ”

"Azeroth Guardian?" Yang Long frowned, and repeated as if confirmed, "Which Azeroth Guardian is it?"

"It's the last Guardian, the Astral Mage, who can predict the future, Medivan!" Windthor slumped his eyelids slightly, caught up in a long memory, "It was a memories"

(To be continued, please search, the novel is better and updated faster!)