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Rega Earth Wrath didn't like rainy days. In Drano, when his village was razed to the ground by the ogres, it was rainy. He was captured by the ogres and trained as a gladiator. Until the tribe rose, he followed Orgrim to participate in the war invading Azeroth. After failing and being captured, he was imprisoned in the prison camp. There, he truly witnessed the benefits of a gladiator. Every day, he fought desperately with his opponents in the arena, and only food and water were obtained - he saw more and more clearly what kind of transaction it was. Time and again, Rega watched the slave owners who suppressed him receive bags of heavy gold coins, relying on him and his fists to win one terrible battle after another. He was no longer satisfied with his status quo, so he found a way to escape from the prison camp and began to form his own team of gladiators.

There is also a duel today, located in the Trial Valley of Durotal, and his opponent is a goblin, but his gladiator... Rega came to the tent where he rested with a heavy heart. He had condemned the goblins for countless times in his heart that he had no bottom line.

"There's a bad news." Rega pushed open the tanned leather door curtain, and the inside was dark and lanterns that he couldn't see, but knew that his three gladiators were inside. "Your opponents in the next game are sure."

According to past practice, whenever he knew who his opponent was, Rega would say that this was good news, but today it was exactly the opposite.

"Your opponent is a dead soul, only one person, so according to regulations, you must take turns to fight."

"Is it the undead who is loyal to the Demon King of Fear, or the Scourge?" asked a cold and slightly sarcastic voice in the darkness in the tent.

"He is loyal to the goblins, and allegiance to the gold coins!" Rega grinned, his eyes turned to the other side of the voice, "He killed an adult thunder lizard, alone."

The tent fell into silence.

"Bear skin, you take the lead!" The enslave master gave a last command and left the tent, allowing the leather door curtain to fall back to its original position.

"He doesn't look confident before."

"This means that the opponent is very powerful." Two completely different voices in front and back to tear apart the silence in the tent, especially the person who spoke behind him, there was always a hint of majesty in his tone.

"We take turns to play? Broll, I ask you to lose, and then I will kill the undead."

"I'm not a fool, Valilla. Although I haven't seen the undead, I've heard of their cruel and bloodthirsty. If I lose... I'm afraid Rega will find you a new teammate."

...

The slight fog of the Trial Valley was rippling, and Nathanos's skin felt a little chill. He closed his eyes and meditated, and he wanted to try to regain his energy before the next fight began. In the distance, Gizlok was clamoring to increase the bet, but his pockets probably could not be filled with more money.

This is a plan...it will start a few days ago.

“Is the intelligence accurate?”

The wither is as calm as ever, not letting this news affect his judgment.

"It's true that I've sent someone to investigate. The gladiator is Varian Urien. And he is also very famous and is called "Logosh" by the orcs."

"So your previous information is wrong?"

Belmont's expression suddenly changed, and he bowed deeply, "Please forgive me, master, but I believe our intelligence is absolutely fine. The king of Stormwind is indeed still on his throne. As for the gladiator, maybe he just looks like..."

"What I want is the truth, not maybe..." Nathanos rebuked, "Forget it, since that's the case, let me confirm whether this human being is 'Logosh' or Varian."

So he appeared here, Gizlok disguised himself as a slave, and he... was a gladiator.

Nathanos sat cross-legged in the center of the arena, with the upper elf sword Salamani resting on his knees. Since he entered the arena last time, the situation has not changed much from memory, but there is nothing to make a fuss about. Whether humans or orcs, they will do their best to shout when they are in a duel. He wiped off a few drops of blood that was shining with soft light on the sword. The blood dripped into the barren land. He put his hand into the waist of his clothes, took out the third piece of jerky today, and then chewed it slowly, just passing the time to wait for his next opponent.

Looking at the gap in the food in his hand, Nathanos thought that he was no longer a living person. He remembered that he once liked the things in his hand. Eating, drinking... Everything was for the pale shadow in his memory. Food was no longer a necessity for his life, but more like a pause.

Nathanos carefully lifted up a corner of his cloak and ate the last bite of jerky. He didn't have a single skin exposed. It would be fine. He wasn't even sure what his skin looked like.

A cold wind blew through the mountains around the Trial Valley and storms on the distant coast poured rain into the unfamiliar wasteland. Perhaps the storm would travel westward, carrying rain and descending in a desolate place. In that case, perhaps the forsakens should be taken to take protective measures.

The storm will also change the environment of the gladiator. Maybe that's not bad. After all, a person who is qualified to fight him is still necessary. He hears the sound of sharp claws sinking into the land and the whispers when cutting the air.

"Stand up and face me," a powerful voice commanded.

Nathanos clapped his hands, put on his cloak, then looked up at the opponent standing in front of him. The man turned out to be a cheetah with purple body, black markings, and a light green beard on both sides of his head.

A druid? Interesting? Nathanos secretly admired it. It seems that there are all kinds of things in the arena.

"It looks like you can hunt in the jungle and sleep in the trees," Nathanos said.

"I won't waste your quarrels, monster," said the druid, and at the same time he took the fighting posture that the cheetah should have. Nathanos sighed disappointedly. It seemed that the loser who challenged him in front did not make the cat realize the danger.

"Monster?" Nathanos said, his body relaxed and he stood up. "I can let you see what a real monster is, but I'm afraid you won't live long enough to tell others what the monster really looks like."

He gently swung Salamani to the muscles of his shoulders.

"For the Moon God!" The druid shouted and launched an attack. He was agile and fast, at least faster than the druids Nathanos had seen, but it was reasonable to have such speed in the cheetah form. Nathanos dodged the first attack sideways, retreated and avoided the sweep of the claws, blocked the third move, then turned around and swung his sword into the druid's space, and used the back of the sword to attack the side of the druid's head.

Broll felt his brain buzzing, and he groaned in pain and slowly retreated. Nathanos gave him some time to calm the echoes in his brain. The druid turned back to his prototype, and his head was already covered with blood. The blood filled his side face, but what impressed Nathanos was that he controlled his anger. The druids were all masters of Ning Xinjingqi, and each of them could meditate from daytime to night. Nathanos really admired this.

Broll took a steadily breath and launched another attack. This time he turned into a bear form with amazing defense.

The attacks came from everywhere, mixed with sweeping slashes of sharp claws, lightning-like poking and high-pressing slashes... all were parried by Nathanos. His sword could defend before Brore launched an attack - the druid in bear form slowed down a lot - and hit back sharply or bluntly on the opponent's two front paws. Nathanos shook left and cut Salamani into the opponent's right front paw shoulder, forcing him to stagger back and breathe in pain.

"Is that OK?" asked Nathanos. "I can take your life, and it will end sooner."

"I would rather die than accept the mercy of the enemy." Broll said, turning back into a human form and standing up crookedly. His resolute appearance did not peel off in front of Nathanos, but when he attacked in human form again, his posture was like a completely skillless reckless man. Nathanos flashed back, causing a fatal punch, and then caught another punch with one hand. Then, the sound of bone shattering came. Broll gritted his teeth and slowly knelt on the ground. He did not scream in pain, but the pain in his hands forced him to express it with his physical reaction.

"Did you underestimate my strength?" Nathanos said, slowly turning around and heading to the place where he had eaten jerky just now. "Your left hand has been dislocated and will never be able to be used if you don't treat it in time."

Looking at Broll's appearance, Nathanos shook his head. He forgot that the other party was a druid and he could heal himself.

But he won the battle.

"Next!"

"The next one is me!" said a woman. She was not far behind Broll. Unlike Nathanos's whole body, she hid herself under red, her right eye was blocked by golden hair, and her left eye was shining with emerald green light.

A Queldore Elf? Funny!

The plump and slim elf walked over steadily, with light and labor-saving movements, with absolute balance and extreme confidence. Her appearance was very beautiful, slightly thin, but full of aura. A few strands of scarlet were hidden in her hair. Her eyes were cold and ruthless, and Nathanos could see only death and determination. It seemed that the battle just now had not affected her. She wore a dagger of the same color as her eyes, not sure whether it was the color of the dagger itself or because of something painted on it. When she walked past the druid, the two of them nodded to each other.

It turned out to be a teammate.

"Who are you?" Nathanos was curious, and he didn't ask for his previous opponent's name.

"My name is Valilla Sagunall." She said, pulling out her weapon, the perfect blade flashed with a cold light. "And, I will actually send you into the cemetery."

Nathanos's face behind the cloak was vaguely laughing.
Chapter completed!