Volume 6: Job Change Chapter 3 How miserable... (Part 1)
A moment ago, I was envious of the dwarf warrior named Exaggerated Weeping who was able to get the first move and get the tribal flag of the Dirty Axe Troll before me. But now, not only do I not envy him at all, but I also sympathize with his current situation.
There seemed to be some special alarm spell cast on the tribal flag, which was probably painted with blood to form a red fang pattern. Once it was pulled up, it would alert the entire tribe's dirty axe trolls and summon them to take back their flag.
In an instant, more than fifty foul-axe demons that were patrolling in the village rushed towards the temple with red eyes, and soon surrounded the door. Suddenly, my sight was completely blocked by the backs of dozens of blue-green skinned pointy-eared ugly men, and I couldn't see any trace of the dwarf warriors in the temple. Through the layers of human walls formed by the foul-axe trolls, I could only vaguely see the troll warriors in the front row waving their axes and swinging them very hard in front . The action was like chopping wood and driving piles. As they chopped and killed, bursts of miserable screams came from the front of the crowd from time to time.
The name of this dwarf warrior is "Exaggerated Crying". I am not sure whether his crying is exaggerated, but his screams are indeed exaggerated. The screams of the dwarf warrior are like the painful noises of a crow that has eaten too much salt and has lost its throat. I felt a chill in my heart, as if those blunt but fierce axes were chopping at my body again and again. This kind of pain that I felt made me restless.
How could I allow these evil and brutal trolls to commit such atrocities against a brave dwarf warrior? As a warrior, my sense of honor and responsibility made it impossible for me to tolerate it any longer. Finally, after crying loudly and howling like a torn cloth, I could no longer hold back my reluctance and resolutely...
…pulled out two pieces of flannel from the cyst and stuffed them into his ears.
The world was finally quiet. The screams of the dwarf warriors being slaughtered disappeared without a trace in an instant, and I immediately felt much better, and the guilt that was clogging my chest was not so strong anymore.
Ahem, I know what you are thinking, please don't blame me for not helping him. For a tribe of ferocious trolls, the difference between killing one person and killing two people is that the latter can bring double the fun of killing. If I rush forward at this time, not only will I not be able to help him at all, but I will also have to sacrifice my life for nothing. What's more, I am still a long way from him. Even if I want to help, I am afraid that his body will be cold by the time I reach him.
The dwarf warrior's resistance was unexpectedly tenacious. He fought to the death while being heavily surrounded, and killed two dirty axe beheaders in succession before he fell to the ground and died unwillingly.
Originally, these skydivers could choose to be resurrected at a certain "resurrection point" after death. This choice would reduce the money on them 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 dwarf warrior's corpse, emitting a mysterious red light. The trolls killed the invaders who snatched the flag, but it seemed that they had no intention of dispersing. They still stood there, circling around the red flag.
I flipped open the mission description with some surprise and found the following description: "The flag of the Dirty Axe Tribe contains some kind of soul magic, which will resonate strangely with the blood of the trolls, imprisoning the souls of the dead and preventing them from returning. Use your courage and wisdom, take the flag, and stay away from the troll camp, so that your soul will be free."
It seems that before taking the tribal flag out of the village, this unfortunate dwarf warrior cannot be resurrected at the resurrection point. His soul must return to the troll's residence, revive his body, and use his "courage and wisdom" to take the flag away. Although this is true, I think that when his body is surrounded by a group of fierce and tall bandits, ready to be torn into pieces at any time, his "wisdom" does not seem to be so important. The key is: whether he has enough courage to resurrect on the spot with a full head of battle axes.
The dwarves have always been a civilized race with strong beliefs and brave spirits. Most of these stubborn dwarves have a firm belief that they will never give up until they achieve their goals. It seems that the exaggerated crying has inherited this admirable spiritual tradition of the dwarves. After less than three minutes, these trolls began to riot again. Some of the "dirty axe summoners" standing in the front row began to insert their "flame crack totems" into the ground. One after another, the fire bombs passed through the human wall, drew a low and flat line, and rushed straight into the temple. Not long after, the riot subsided again - although I couldn't see it clearly, I knew very well that the same unfortunate thing happened again.
Today must not be a lucky day for the dwarf warrior's exaggerated crying. He is now in an extremely embarrassing situation. As soon as he is resurrected, he has to face the siege of dozens of trolls. He will not last long before he is killed again. He will be resurrected again a few minutes later, and then be beaten again, and then caught by the god of death again... This desperate death cycle has been repeated more than ten times, and I still can't see any signs of improvement in his situation. At first, he could still rely on the advantage of the door to fight one or two trolls, but as the dirty axe trolls continued to approach, there were more and more trolls in the house, and he had to deal with more attacks from more opponents at the same time. Naturally, he died faster.
Although it is immoral to think like this, I must honestly admit that I feel very fortunate for the tragic experience of exaggerated crying. You know, I am not an air traveler like him. My death means the end of life. I cannot be resurrected without the help of others. If he hadn't attracted the alarm first, I would have been chopped into a corpse by a flurry of axes. When I think of this, I feel a sense of panic in my heart.
Just when he was trapped in the small temple with no way out, he suddenly seemed to have a sudden enlightenment and finally found a way to escape. After he was resurrected again, he shouted loudly with all his strength without waiting for the group of trolls to rush over again. This shout was loud and heavy, and even the flannel stuffed in my ears could not block it. It made my ears tinnitus and my heart seemed to be hit by a heavy hammer.
The trolls around the dwarf warrior were caught off guard and were immediately frightened by the shout. Their hands and feet were solemn, their eyes were blank, and they fell into a brief trance - this was the "Fear Roar" skill that every warrior learned from the trainer at level 30. Taking advantage of this rare opportunity, he cried exaggeratedly and crawled out of the trolls surrounding him, and climbed up the stairs to the second floor in a very embarrassed manner using his hands and feet.
