As Grohl's figure appeared at the registration desk, the crowd on both sides of the main road turned all their attention to him as if they had discovered a new prey. A series of laughter, sarcasm, and even vicious sarcasm in different languages whipped like whips at the staggering orcs.

His back was pressed lower, his long, messy hair drooped down and pressed against his scalp, and his eyes were hidden behind strands of hair, faintly glowing. At this time, the arms wrapped in iron chains and tattooed with crimson flame patterns were no longer holding a two-handed axe, but a wooden crutch supported under the armpit.

The head of the worn cane replaced his broken leg, and he struggled to move from behind him to the front of him, making a dull thud every time he landed on the ground, supporting him to rub forward step by step.

Soon, the laughter of the crowd spread to the contestants who also came to sign up, and many looked back at the orcs with contemptuous smiles on their faces.

"Look who this is?" said one of them, "isn't this dear Mr. Grohl?

"Groll, how did you get mixed up like this, did you have any broken legs?"

"Weren't you quite imposing in the last competition?"

"Where's your axe? How did you turn it into a wooden crutch? hahaha......"

"It's the first time I've seen a cripple participate in the 'Blood Arena'!

"Hell, look at the smell of you!" another voice scolded, wrinkling his nose, "Can't you even find a place to take a shower?"

"Hahaha......"

Many of them left the procession and surrounded the orcs with laughter, as if they weren't going to let him pass just like that.

"Get out of here!" Grohl suddenly took a step forward like an angry beast. Shouted a word. The crowd around him was stunned and subconsciously took a step back, but soon, a burly Eric sprang up and kicked the orc in the chest.

"Shut up, green-skinned shit, who are you scaring about, it's a fucking shame on me to stand with you and sign up!" the orc was kicked out. The wooden crutch in his hand touched the ground one after another, and finally managed to stabilize his body. His chest heaved and heaved, and a low growl welled up from deep in his throat.

"What's the matter??Come on, hit me with your wooden crutch?hahaha......" The other party's words caused more people to laugh again, "I don't mind killing someone to warm up before the game starts!, although killing a cripple is not a glorious thing!" said Ari with an eyebrow.

"Hahaha......" everyone laughed even harder as they watched the orc's heaving shoulders.

"Forget it, for the sake of his hard work, we should be merciful and let him sign up early. Go back early to get your leg cured!" one of the elves sarcastically said.

"That's right, that's right!" the crowd was immediately moved by the proposal, and pushed each other "goodwillingly" to make way for a straight passage, revealing the table in the distance.

"Let's go, orc, hurry up!"

"Don't bother, don't you want to sign up? Well, you should thank us for our kindness!"

"Hahaha......" The crowd on both sides of the passage leaned back and fell back with laughter.

The orc's violent wheezing gradually subsided. Clenched the wooden crutch in his hand and walked towards the registration office at the end of the passage. The crowds on both sides of the column closed together. But their teasing did not end, but shouted loudly, urging the orcs to hurry up and not delay everyone's time.

It didn't take long for Grohl to finally finish the registration process, but just as he turned to make his way through the crowd. As he left here, the wooden crutch leaning forward suddenly shattered into flying pieces of wood with a thud!

"Why did you fall, Grohl?!Can't even hold you up with a wooden crutch?hahaha......"

"You're the seventy-one Hunter, Grohl!" a man laughed and pointed to the wooden table at the registration desk. "Why can't you even stand up straight and walk out......?"

"Who's doing it?!" a voice roared, "Praise you for your creative mind, well done!"

"Hahaha......"

The crowd roared loudly, and the crowd gathered around to watch the excitement became even more excited, and they laughed loudly at the orcs who fell to the ground, such a scene had never been seen in the registration stage in previous years, and the onlookers of these good things would not let go of this opportunity for collective entertainment. At some point, by whom, a short and thick syllable erupted from the crowd watching the excitement.

......Gradually, first a few, then a group, more and more sounds slowly converged, like a huge wave crashing on the reef, roaring and spreading!

"Climb, climb, climb, climb......" Even the contestants who were standing next to the orcs joined in. Many of them shouted loudly, then slapped their palms or raised their arms at the crowd behind them. Eventually, all the syllables, the twisted faces, and the mad gaze struck the orc's back like a sledgehammer, the tumbling sound mixed with the scorching air and blasted into the sky, one higher than the other.

The orc's prostrate body struggled to get to his feet, but every time he lifted his shoulders, someone would reach out and slam his back on, kicking him back to the ground.

Falling forward again and again, struggling to get up again and again, the orc's figure stumbled through the gaps of the crowd. His body was soon covered with dirt mixed with sweat, and under his dirty messy hair, his thick teeth were tightly clasped on his lips, and his clenched gums stretched out two hard lines on the sides of his face, and he was silent without a sound.

After a long time, after falling and getting up many times, the orc came to the wall of the Black Blade Guard, and the people who followed him finally stopped. Raising his palm to grab the guard's spear standing on the ground, Grohl pulled his body up, gasped violently, and limped outside.

The crowd of onlookers, like beggars hiding from stained beggars, gave him a way with disgust on their faces. With the last laugh of farewell, the orc's figure slowly disappeared into the crowd outside.

Those contestants who made fun of the orcs. As if he had lost an interesting plaything, he shook his head a little unsatisfactorily.

"The Lord God is above, let me meet him in the preliminaries!

"That's right, I don't know which lucky guy can draw this good card!"

"It's going to be a big fight! Think about it, the arena has ever seen. The first preliminaries to be unable to even stand on their feet, what an eye-catching spectacle it would be! Do you think someone will press him to win?"

"Hahaha......!" everyone laughed.

Looking at the orc's disappearing back, Zhal's gaze hidden under the hood was slightly distracted. In fact, he has no bad feelings for the other person, and of course, he can't have a good feeling. To put it simply, he even thinks that Grohl Bloody Fist is an admirable opponent. Brave, resolute, temperate, and always in awe of what he believes in.

But. Zar has no regret about the fact that he fought with Grohl and finally broke the opponent's right leg, because it was a choice that had nothing to do with right or wrong.

There is no difference at all between the silver table that one side pays to support the cost of the tournament and the other side that costs the points required to participate in the tournament. In other words, there is no difference between the hunters who kill people on the gimbal. All the same bloody, all just as dirty. It's just that the bottom line of sin in their hearts has different levels and levels of each other - here, they are all sinners.

Zal sighed subconsciously, but the voice behind him pulled his mind back. "Friend, if you don't want to sign up, get out of the way......," the other said. "Don't stand in the way. ”

Zar was stunned for a moment, saw the human talking behind him, and then glanced forward, realizing that he had opened a large distance from the contestant in front of him. "I'm sorry. He said a word, and immediately followed.

Actually, if there had not been a Grolle episode. The whole registration process was still very fast, and after waiting in the line for too long, Zar came to the small table at the registration office.

"Left ear string. The goblin sitting behind the table didn't even look up, but said in a stiff tone.

“Z.3478065”

The goblin repeated quietly, rummaging through the notebook in front of him with the barrel of his pen, and finally stopped on a line of text. "Zal is it?" he said, rolling his eyes.

"That's right. Zal nodded.

"Number one hundred and forty-three!" he said, pulling a piece of parchment with the same code from the side and placing it in front of Zal. "The emblem at the bottom, fingers, press up. He pointed to the milky white Wind Cliff City emblem underneath the document and said, "Once this document is completed, it means that the signatories will obey all the rules and arrangements of the tournament during the start of the arena and ......" He tapped his pen a little impatiently, "I don't have time to introduce you, if you need it, I can give you a copy directly." ”

"No thanks. Zar said, pressing his thumb directly to the city crest. A slight tingling pain came, and the whole emblem instantly turned a bewitching red as if it had been soaked with blood. At the same time, in the margins below the emblem, Zal's "left ear string" emerged. And on the back of his right hand, which he pressed, the same number as the ranking, like a scar carved into the skin, was branded on it: "143".

"This is your nameplate and status mark...... Goblin tossed a black medallion with a metallic sheen to Zhal, "If it is lost, it will be regarded as an automatic forfeiture." He waited for a while, then looked up at Zar with some dissatisfaction, "I'm done, what about you, for the sake of anything, get out of the way if there's nothing else!" he tilted his head behind Zar and shouted, "Next!"

Zar pulled out of the group with the nameplate, and for some reason, whenever he saw a goblin, he always remembered Rivigaz in Treasure Bay. "Time is money, my friend ......" Zar smiled wryly and looked down at the nameplate in his hand.

On one side is the Wind Cliff City Emblem, and on the other side is a number that is exactly the same as the "scar" on the back of his hand, and even the details of the brushstrokes are exactly the same. Gently clutching it in the palm of his hand, Zal was somewhat surprised to find that this nameplate seemed to be connected to his own flesh and blood, exuding a wonderful sense of resonance.

Squeezing out of the crowd and leaving the registration office, when Zar returned to the half-elf's hut, he found that Gavira had returned early, and at this time, she was resting her legs on the corner of the long table, fiddling with the dagger in her hand.

"How's that? it's not what you imagined, right?" leaning against the closet, the half-elf took a sip of the wine in his glass, "By the way, what about the identity mark and nameplate?"

Zal shook the nameplate in his hand. "I didn't expect to be exaggerated to this extent just by signing up......," he said, dragging a chair over and sitting down, then pouring himself a drink. When he motioned for Gavira to have a drink, he shook his head. "What about after that? What else do I need to do? Waiting for the game to start?" he asked.

"After the registration is over, there will be an opening ceremony," the half-elf explained, "and after that, you will need to participate in the draw of the preliminary round." ”

Zal's voice was a little confused. "Lottery grouping?"

"To be exact, it's for the bottom 100 in the draw group," Gavila took Zal's question, "The preliminary round is specially prepared for you, squeeze out the contestants who have moisture, and the rest are eligible to enter the preliminary stage with the top 100." ”

"How many people will be selected for the preliminaries?" Zal quickly led the question to the most critical point.

"Ten people, or fifteen people? It depends on the mood of the city lord. Cadius raised an eyebrow and said, "In short, you can understand the preliminary round as a profit opportunity for those who survive in the small gladiatorial arena at the bottom, after all, if the schedule is too short, not only these unruly funders are unwilling, but even the spectators who like to watch the killing will not be satisfied." ”

"In other words, I have to spend more time playing the preliminary rounds than I can concentrate on training like she did and just wait for the preliminaries, right?" said Zal after glancing at Gavila.

The half-elf nodded affirmatively. "That's right. ”

"Well, that's all there is to it......" Zar seemed to think of something else, "where's your patron?" he asked the Wood Elf.

"No, no," she waved the dagger in her hand, "just have this." Zar and Cadius looked at each other, and the latter shrugged. "By the way, is it okay not to attend the opening ceremony?" asked Zal, who was not interested in such a meaningless process at all.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I can't ......," the half-elf said dryly.

"Why?"

Gavira sighed equally annoyedly. "Because of our lord of the city, he will be there in person," she said, "who do you think as a contestant would dare not attend the opening ceremony? This is his Wind Cliff City......

Zal was stunned. "City Lord?" he repeated softly, and the question hidden in his heart suddenly lit up. (To be continued......)

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