A moment ago, I was envious that the dwarven warrior named Exaggerated Crying was able to get the tribal banner of the Dirty Axe Troll before I did. But now, far from envying him at all, I sympathize with him with 120,000 points.

On the tribal banner, which may have been painted with blood in a pattern of red fangs, there appears to be some kind of alarm spell cast, which, once pulled, alerts the entire tribe's Dirty Axe Trolls, summoning them to reclaim their banner.

In an instant, more than fifty Dirty Axe Demons who were roaming the village rushed in the direction of the temple with red eyes, and soon surrounded the door. Suddenly, my vision was blocked by the backs of dozens of blue-green skinned sharp-eared ugly men, and I couldn't see the dwarven warriors in the temple at all. Through the walls of the trolls, I could only vaguely see the troll warriors in the front row wielding their axes, slashing hard at the front and bottom of me, as if they were chopping wood and driving piles. Along with their slashing, bursts of miserable screams rang out from the front of the crowd from time to time.

The dwarven warrior's name is "Exaggerated Cry", and I don't know if his cry is exaggerated, but his screams are exaggerated. The cry of the dwarven warrior was like a crow that had eaten too much salt and was making a noise of pain, and I felt a chill in my heart when I heard it, as if those rough but fierce axes were slashing at my own body, and the pain of empathy made me fidget.

How could I allow these vicious and murderous trolls to commit such atrocities against a brave dwarven warrior? The sense of honor and responsibility of being a warrior made it impossible for me to tolerate it any longer. Finally, after an exaggerated cry and a cracked howl, I could no longer bear the unbearable feeling in my heart, and resolutely ......

…… He pulled two pieces of flannel out of his bag and plugged his ears.

The world is finally quiet. The screams of the dwarven warriors being slaughtered disappeared in an instant, and I suddenly felt much better in my heart, and the guilt in my chest was not so strong.

Ahem, I know what you're thinking, please don't blame me for not saving me, for an entire tribe of ferocious trolls, the difference between killing one person and killing two is simply that the latter can bring double the pleasure of killing, and if I rush forward at this time, not only will I not be able to help the exaggerated crying at all, but I will also have to fill in my own life in vain. What's more, I'm still a long way from him, and even if I have the heart to help, I'm afraid he will even be cold by the time I get to him.

The dwarven warrior's resistance was surprisingly resilient, and he fought to the death under siege, killing two decapitators in quick succession before reluctantly falling to the ground to his death.

Originally, these Skywaders could choose to resurrect at a certain "resurrection point" after death, which would reduce the amount of money on their bodies by 10%, but other items would not disappear. But this time it was a bit strange, the flag was still held in the hands of the dwarven warrior's corpse, emitting a mysterious red light, and the trolls killed the intruder who snatched the flag, but it didn't seem to have any thoughts of dissipating, still standing in place, circling around the red flag.

Curiously, I flipped through the mission instructions and found them read, "The banner of the Dirty Axe Tribe contains some kind of soul magic, which resonates strangely with the blood of trolls, imprisoning the souls of the dead and preventing them from returning." Use your courage and wit, carry the flag, and stay away from the camp of the trolls, and your soul will be untethered. ”

It seems that this hapless dwarven warrior will not be able to resurrect at the respawn point until the tribal banner is taken out of the village. His soul must return to the troll's residence, resurrect his body, and use his "courage and wisdom" to take the banner away. Having said that, I think that when his body is surrounded by a group of fierce and vicious tall bandits, ready to be broken into pieces, his "wisdom" does not seem so important, the key is: whether he is brave enough to resurrect himself on the spot with a full head of tomahawks.

Dwarves have always been a civilized race with strong faith and brave spirit, and most of these stubborn dwarves have some firm conviction that they will never give up until they reach their goal. It seemed that the exaggerated crying was a good continuation of this admirable spiritual tradition of the dwarves, and after less than three minutes, the trolls began to stir again, and some of the "Filthy Axe Spiritualists" standing in the front row began to stick their "flame crack totems" into the ground, one after the other, and the fire bombs crossed the human wall, drawing a low, flat line and rushing straight into the temple. It didn't take long for the commotion to subside again—and although I can't see it really, I knew very well that the same unfortunate thing had happened again.

For the exaggerated crying of the dwarven warrior, today must not be his lucky day. He was now in a desperate situation, as soon as he was resurrected, he had to face the siege of dozens of trolls, and he would not last long before he would be sacrificed again, and after a few minutes he would be resurrected again, then beaten again, and then caught by death again...... This desperate cycle of death repeated itself a dozen times in quick succession, and I still don't see any signs of improvement in his situation. At first, he was able to fight one or two trolls with the advantage of the doorway, but as the trolls of the Dirty Axe continued to push in, there were more and more trolls in the house, and he had to deal with more attacks from his opponents at the same time, and of course, he died faster.

As immoral as it may be, I must honestly admit that I am glad that I am glad that I was overjoyed by the tragic experience of exaggerated crying. You know, I'm not a space-wader like him, and my death means the end of my life, and I can't be resurrected without the help of others. If he hadn't preemptively attracted the alarm, I would have been cut into a corpse by a flurry of axes, and the thought of this made my heart tremble.

Just when he was cornered in the small temple with exaggerated crying, suddenly, as if suddenly he had opened his mind, he finally found a way out. After resurrecting again, he didn't wait for the group of trolls to rejoin him, and let out a loud "whoop" with enough strength. The shout was so loud and heavy that even the flannel stuffed in my ears could not stop it, and it made my ears ring, and my heart felt as if it had been "struck" by a heavy hammer.

The trolls around the dwarven warrior were caught off guard by the shout, and their hands and feet were stunned, their eyes were lost, and they fell into a brief trance—this is the "Fear Roar" skill that every warrior learns from their trainer at level 30. Taking advantage of this rare opportunity, he rushed out of the trolls surrounding him with exaggerated weeping, and climbed the stairs to the second floor with both hands and feet.

(Apologies to one reader here...... Well...... At the same time, it should be paid tribute to.

Last night, I found a reader named Fallacies in the book review section, and I was surprised to find that he had left an overly critical comment in the book review section of a young writer who had made a mistake before finishing the novel.

In retrospect, my reply was too arbitrary. This reader is indeed unintentional, and has already sincerely apologized in the book review section of that novel.

Therefore, I would also like to apologize to him and at the same time express my heartfelt respect to him. It seems to me that the courage and virtue required to be willing to take responsibility and apologize genuinely after recognizing one's own mistakes – especially when all this is happening in networks where we don't have to meet each other – is always admirable. ）