LIGHTNOVELONLINE Stratholme God
Chapter 43 The lok'tar Project
Chapter 43 The lok'tar Project
On this day, the White Cross Arena of Lordaeron was full of people.
"kill him!"
"Kill that monster!"
"Go on!"
In the ring-shaped arena, everyone in the audience waved their arms back and forth frantically. Some people were holding bets representing their bets.
In a gladiatorial arena the size of a basketball court, four gladiators stared at the green-skinned demon in the arena with trembling legs.
The troll was seriously injured, and no matter how he looked at it, he was going to die soon.There were at least four broken spears stuck in his chest.
Although the troll has a super physical regeneration ability, there are obstacles in the wound, and his self-healing power can't help.
At first, the trolls' opponents were petty wandering, unruly thieves.Trolls can easily rip those bastards to shreds with their fighting instincts.As long as the first opponent is brutally killed, most of the rest will scare away, or be paralyzed and lose their combat effectiveness.
Gradually, the audience got tired of the one-sided brutality, and the arena had to send more powerful gladiators for the sake of gambling.
Today, no matter how much the trolls slaughter their opponents, the gladiators may be afraid and even cry, but absolutely no one backs away or puts down their weapons.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh shouted a guy with a bit of mental breakdown and rushed over with an inferior iron sword.
Of course, his end was tragic. The moss-rotten troll knocked off his sword with one hand, grabbed his collar with the other hand, and bit on it.
The ketchup soared into the air.
However, the two pounced from left to right, attracting the remaining attention of the troll.Although they were knocked out, a third guy with rogue talent succeeded.
A dagger slashed the troll's neck.
"Cough... ah-" The troll's vitality is indeed very strong, and it is not invincible.When his throat was cut open, no matter how strong his self-healing power was, he could not exert himself.
The two who had just been knocked out took the opportunity to pounce on...
"Hahaha!" When the three bloody guys held up the severed troll head, the audience's excitement reached its peak.
"Oh oh oh -" They applauded without hesitation.
Only the owner of the arena, Ritter Planck, is worried: "Damn, the audience's appetite has been fed. Ordinary gladiators are definitely not seen now, the attendance rate is less than [-]%, and there are not many people. Note, but the trolls are dying. Can't anyone bring a horde of troll gladiators?"
At this time, an attendant came over and said a few words, and Ritt was instantly happy: "Really!?"
"It's from the Duke of Stratholme. He's on the line from Stormwind Kingdom. I don't know what he paid for. Anyway, the first 120 orcs have been shipped to Solidan Farm."
Thoridan Farm is a farm on the far west side of the Tirisfal Glades by the sea, which is the fief of the Duke of Tirisfal.Being there means that the Duke of Stratholme has made a pleasant py deal with someone.
To put it bluntly, all the large-scale arenas in Lordaeron City have shadows of great nobles behind them.
Every arena owner is just a pawn.
A large number of slave owners flocked to the Solidan farm. After they paid a high price for the orcs who had been fed anesthesia, they couldn't wait to transport the wagons with the orcs back overnight.
They paid an average price of nearly a hundred gold coins per orc.
It was a crazy auction, but they had no choice.
Curious nobles of Lordaeron would flock frantically to those arenas with orc gladiators.A arena without orc slaves will be regarded as garbage and lose nine streets in competitiveness.
"As long as it's tomorrow... I'll make a fortune!" After entering Lordaeron, Ritter was laughing from ear to ear when he suddenly encountered an accident and the convoy stopped: "What's going on? "
The coachman replied, "A carriage has overturned ahead."
Ritter poked his head out and saw that it was a rather tragic car accident.
On the side road that could accommodate two carriages passing in parallel, two carriages collided. One horse broke his neck and hung up on the spot, while the other broke his leg and neighed miserably.
The marble blocks transported by one car were scattered all over the place, and the groceries scattered by the other car blocked all the remaining roads. The two drivers were arguing fiercely.The city guards have arrived and scolded them to clean up as soon as possible.
When the convoy transporting the orcs turned to another road, they encountered another bathhouse bursting septic tank.
"Evil door." Ritter muttered, making the team change lanes again.
Unconsciously, this huge convoy of fifteen carriages came to King Street.
At this time, a court dance was just over, and more than [-] carriages of great nobles were walking down the street.
Of course, they couldn't compete with the big nobles and stopped obediently to the side of the road.
Just as the carriage of Duke Andorhal passed by, something terrible happened!
"Roar--"
It was an inhuman roar, that kind of wild and heroic roar, which made people easily think of the 1-year-old wilderness.
It was an era when trolls reigned supreme, and it was also an era when humans drank blood.
An orc who was locked in a cage woke up unexpectedly.
The terrifying demon blood was burning in his body, and with the blood circulating at a high speed, it spread to every corner of his body.
When he realized the reality that he was being held captive, he went berserk.
"Owoooooooooooo!" With the vague roar, the muscles in his limbs bulged rapidly.Synchronized with these bloated muscles is a terrifying force that is unimaginable for mortals.
"Bang!"
A crisp pop!
Thick iron shackles as thick as thumbs can be easily broken!
The furious orc ripped off the iron branches of the cage in a few strokes and began his slaughter spree.
"Catch it! Don't kill it!" While Ritter panicked, he did not forget to give the order to capture it alive.
The orcs in his eyes are the walking Arathor gold coins!
This stupid order ruined the lives of several of his guards.
The wooden stick on top of the green head was easily interrupted.The orc grabbed a guard's head and pulled the unlucky devil's head and a large section of his spine out of his body like a carrot.
This scene was so bloody that the Duchess of Andorhal, who just opened the carriage curtain just out of curiosity, fainted on the spot.
If it was just an orc doing things, maybe the riot would be quelled quickly.
But the furious roar of this orc awakened more orcs.These monsters, which became infinitely powerful under the stimulation of the power of the blood of the devil, easily killed the bodyguards of the arena and the city guards who came over, and began to slaughter frantically on the street.
"guard!"
"Guardian—"
"Help! There are monsters!"
The wide and beautiful long street suddenly became a mess, and the beautiful marble floor was covered with blood.
(End of this chapter)
On this day, the White Cross Arena of Lordaeron was full of people.
"kill him!"
"Kill that monster!"
"Go on!"
In the ring-shaped arena, everyone in the audience waved their arms back and forth frantically. Some people were holding bets representing their bets.
In a gladiatorial arena the size of a basketball court, four gladiators stared at the green-skinned demon in the arena with trembling legs.
The troll was seriously injured, and no matter how he looked at it, he was going to die soon.There were at least four broken spears stuck in his chest.
Although the troll has a super physical regeneration ability, there are obstacles in the wound, and his self-healing power can't help.
At first, the trolls' opponents were petty wandering, unruly thieves.Trolls can easily rip those bastards to shreds with their fighting instincts.As long as the first opponent is brutally killed, most of the rest will scare away, or be paralyzed and lose their combat effectiveness.
Gradually, the audience got tired of the one-sided brutality, and the arena had to send more powerful gladiators for the sake of gambling.
Today, no matter how much the trolls slaughter their opponents, the gladiators may be afraid and even cry, but absolutely no one backs away or puts down their weapons.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh shouted a guy with a bit of mental breakdown and rushed over with an inferior iron sword.
Of course, his end was tragic. The moss-rotten troll knocked off his sword with one hand, grabbed his collar with the other hand, and bit on it.
The ketchup soared into the air.
However, the two pounced from left to right, attracting the remaining attention of the troll.Although they were knocked out, a third guy with rogue talent succeeded.
A dagger slashed the troll's neck.
"Cough... ah-" The troll's vitality is indeed very strong, and it is not invincible.When his throat was cut open, no matter how strong his self-healing power was, he could not exert himself.
The two who had just been knocked out took the opportunity to pounce on...
"Hahaha!" When the three bloody guys held up the severed troll head, the audience's excitement reached its peak.
"Oh oh oh -" They applauded without hesitation.
Only the owner of the arena, Ritter Planck, is worried: "Damn, the audience's appetite has been fed. Ordinary gladiators are definitely not seen now, the attendance rate is less than [-]%, and there are not many people. Note, but the trolls are dying. Can't anyone bring a horde of troll gladiators?"
At this time, an attendant came over and said a few words, and Ritt was instantly happy: "Really!?"
"It's from the Duke of Stratholme. He's on the line from Stormwind Kingdom. I don't know what he paid for. Anyway, the first 120 orcs have been shipped to Solidan Farm."
Thoridan Farm is a farm on the far west side of the Tirisfal Glades by the sea, which is the fief of the Duke of Tirisfal.Being there means that the Duke of Stratholme has made a pleasant py deal with someone.
To put it bluntly, all the large-scale arenas in Lordaeron City have shadows of great nobles behind them.
Every arena owner is just a pawn.
A large number of slave owners flocked to the Solidan farm. After they paid a high price for the orcs who had been fed anesthesia, they couldn't wait to transport the wagons with the orcs back overnight.
They paid an average price of nearly a hundred gold coins per orc.
It was a crazy auction, but they had no choice.
Curious nobles of Lordaeron would flock frantically to those arenas with orc gladiators.A arena without orc slaves will be regarded as garbage and lose nine streets in competitiveness.
"As long as it's tomorrow... I'll make a fortune!" After entering Lordaeron, Ritter was laughing from ear to ear when he suddenly encountered an accident and the convoy stopped: "What's going on? "
The coachman replied, "A carriage has overturned ahead."
Ritter poked his head out and saw that it was a rather tragic car accident.
On the side road that could accommodate two carriages passing in parallel, two carriages collided. One horse broke his neck and hung up on the spot, while the other broke his leg and neighed miserably.
The marble blocks transported by one car were scattered all over the place, and the groceries scattered by the other car blocked all the remaining roads. The two drivers were arguing fiercely.The city guards have arrived and scolded them to clean up as soon as possible.
When the convoy transporting the orcs turned to another road, they encountered another bathhouse bursting septic tank.
"Evil door." Ritter muttered, making the team change lanes again.
Unconsciously, this huge convoy of fifteen carriages came to King Street.
At this time, a court dance was just over, and more than [-] carriages of great nobles were walking down the street.
Of course, they couldn't compete with the big nobles and stopped obediently to the side of the road.
Just as the carriage of Duke Andorhal passed by, something terrible happened!
"Roar--"
It was an inhuman roar, that kind of wild and heroic roar, which made people easily think of the 1-year-old wilderness.
It was an era when trolls reigned supreme, and it was also an era when humans drank blood.
An orc who was locked in a cage woke up unexpectedly.
The terrifying demon blood was burning in his body, and with the blood circulating at a high speed, it spread to every corner of his body.
When he realized the reality that he was being held captive, he went berserk.
"Owoooooooooooo!" With the vague roar, the muscles in his limbs bulged rapidly.Synchronized with these bloated muscles is a terrifying force that is unimaginable for mortals.
"Bang!"
A crisp pop!
Thick iron shackles as thick as thumbs can be easily broken!
The furious orc ripped off the iron branches of the cage in a few strokes and began his slaughter spree.
"Catch it! Don't kill it!" While Ritter panicked, he did not forget to give the order to capture it alive.
The orcs in his eyes are the walking Arathor gold coins!
This stupid order ruined the lives of several of his guards.
The wooden stick on top of the green head was easily interrupted.The orc grabbed a guard's head and pulled the unlucky devil's head and a large section of his spine out of his body like a carrot.
This scene was so bloody that the Duchess of Andorhal, who just opened the carriage curtain just out of curiosity, fainted on the spot.
If it was just an orc doing things, maybe the riot would be quelled quickly.
But the furious roar of this orc awakened more orcs.These monsters, which became infinitely powerful under the stimulation of the power of the blood of the devil, easily killed the bodyguards of the arena and the city guards who came over, and began to slaughter frantically on the street.
"guard!"
"Guardian—"
"Help! There are monsters!"
The wide and beautiful long street suddenly became a mess, and the beautiful marble floor was covered with blood.
(End of this chapter)
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