Death Knight

Chapter 43: Emperor Front

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The young man walked alone, alone in the dark. The pale light source outlines the strange-shaped shadows under his feet, the wind blowing from all directions fills the whole space, and the street scene beside him is an impenetrable gray color, which sometimes repeats itself continuously, but changes beyond recognition in a blink of an eye.

Then, this lonely world suddenly surged with waves, and the ensuing darkness surrounded the bewildered young man, making him forget where he was, and he was soon submerged in the ink-stained ocean, the waves went up and down Rolling over, bursts of suffocation came to my face. The young people in it are like a piece of sawdust in the maelstrom, powerless to resist this mysterious and tyrannical force, so they have to resign themselves to their fate, sink to the bottom of the sea with the rapids, and be buried in this extremely vast cemetery.

In the next moment, the shady scenes were shattered into millions of pieces, and the endless land unfolded in front of my eyes. The dry and cracked soil greedily sucked every trace of moisture in the air, and the desolate wind rolled up a large piece of loess, circling in mid-air. But in the barren land, the most eye-catching thing is the dilapidated tombstones, which stand in hundreds of large areas, shocking and inescapable.

where is this place? The young man rubbed his forehead blankly, looking around the empty world.

This is the place where people and things you have forgotten sleep.

A hollow voice suddenly rang in his ears, the listener couldn't help being startled, and immediately turned around suddenly - standing in front of him was a shadow, the black outline outlined the exact same appearance as the young man, but the corner of his mouth was There was more sarcasm, and more coldness in the eyes.

something forgotten? What have I forgotten

There are so many things you have forgotten, and you may never remember. But that doesn't matter. The shadow began to distort gradually. The important thing is that you are still in the flow of cause and effect, and you are still in the memory of others... So, you still cannot escape the shackles of fate.

Perhaps, you will still walk on the path you have walked... that labyrinth intertwined with love and hate.

The young man opened his eyes.

Accompanied by the unique rust and stench in the prison, the first thing he saw was a green orc face. The other guy looked about forty years old, which was when the orcs were at their most energetic. There is also a dead white scar on his left cheek, as if to prove the heroism or savagery of the owner. Like all militant and arrogant fighters, this guy looked at the young man with a look of disdain.

Typical outlaw. The young man lying on his back on the stone floor judged so. Just as he was thinking about how to get rid of this awkward staring, the other party spoke first.

"Boy, what's your name?" asked a deep voice.

"Ro... Roland..." the young man replied drowsily, trying to get up from the floor. The unexplained pain made him feel like his head would burst, but even so, the word "Roland" blurted out easily, as if he had introduced himself a million times proficiently.

Is that really my name? Roland asked himself, but couldn't get an answer.

"Roland? I seem to have heard that name somewhere?" The orc frowned, and the second question followed, "By the way, I saw a whole squad of soldiers escorting you in just now. Tell me, call Roland boy, what did you do to make the idiots of the empire so nervous?"

Roland felt very dissatisfied with this almost interrogation attitude, but he could only answer honestly—the young man had noticed that there were at least a dozen strong and strong men in this large cell, all of whom were cold. Staring at here, the orc is clearly their leader. It seems that if you refuse to answer the question, you will inevitably be punished severely.

"Just killed a knight captain..." the young man began to narrate helplessly.

A week ago, Roland found himself on the coast somewhere in the Sofia Empire, exhausted. After the nearby fishermen discovered this distraught stranger, they brought him into the village, and the kind village chief not only took him in, but also took good care of him. But the good times didn't last long, and the empire's tax collection team arrived here the next day. Not only did they impose a heavy tax of one gold coin on every poor villager, but the knight captain with the moustache even planned to insult the village chief's daughter.

What happened next was a matter of course. Roland snatched the long sword from the soldier, and inserted the first blow into the knight captain's head. But soon, he himself was captured alive by the swarming enemies.

"Is it a one-hit kill?" The orc snorted, "Although all the knights in the empire are cowards, but they can do this, no wonder they will send heavy troops to escort you."

"Speaking of which, how did you get to that coast?" Another curious voice cut in. The questioner was a young man, and even the harsh prison life could not conceal a certain quality in him—maybe it was keen, maybe it was murderous. Roland couldn't help becoming alert.

"I don't know..." After thinking for a long time, Roland could only answer like this. Although he always took it for granted, it was not until he was questioned that the young man realized that he had really lost everything in the past. Just like the shadow in the dream said.

But what have I forgotten? Roland pondered.

"Boy, what do you mean 'you don't know'?" The orc frowned again.

"I mean... I forgot." The young man replied hesitantly.

"What?" The other party couldn't help widening his eyes, and then, a deafening laughter burst out in the cell, "That guy means he has lost his memory~!" The orc laughed and turned his head to tell the people behind him, and the others also Everyone laughed, leaving Roland sitting on the ground with a flushed face, unable to refute at all.

"Lost memory?" The man next to him also shook his head.

But before the prisoners had time to continue their interrogation, the door of the cell opened. A total of twenty-four heavily armed soldiers from two teams stood on both sides of the corridor, and a mage led two captains to the door.

"The whole team." The expressionless imperial mage said coldly. All the prisoners fell silent, and then stood silently in a row. Guided by the sword jungle, these figures slowly walked out of the prison gate.

A total of more than two hundred prisoners were selected. Under the escort of a large number of imperial soldiers, they slowly moved along the stone road in a steel prison cart, and the surrounding atmosphere seemed strange and dignified.

"Where are we going?" Repressing his inner anxiety, Roland asked the orc beside him in a low voice, "Execution?"

The orc didn't answer, just pouted. Looking in the direction he pointed out, the young man saw a huge city at the end of the horizon—even though the glory of the goddess was gone, the ancient city walls and the various temples still proved the traces of the gods' favor; The times have passed, but the neat streets and exquisite buildings exude an irresistible luxury. The most eye-catching thing is the huge round building in the center of the city and the obelisk towers standing in it.

Roland's pupils shrank in an instant. Although he has forgotten the past, this does not prevent him from remembering the great legends described in the history books

Standing in front of the youth is the Grand Lourdes Arena with a history of thousands of years, and the Tongtian Stele built by people to commemorate the emperor, Emperor Feng.

"That's right, that's where these carriages are going." The orc laughed, with a mixture of sarcasm and sadness in his expression, "Boy, now you are a gladiator just like us."

Long ago, the Grand Arena in Lourdes was synonymous with honor and blood. Every five years, no matter what the circumstances, there is a grand jousting ceremony that gathers the most famous warriors in the world - including the famous Emperor Yagasi - for honor, status, fame or some other ordinary people. Fight for the unattainable.

But now, everything is different. While the arena is as grand as ever, those who rule it keep falling. After the dawn of Luvis, the Reinas Alliance split in just fifty years, and the largest part of it—the Sofia Empire became the new master of Great Lourdes. The rulers of this hereditary empire became more and more incompetent from generation to generation. In the eighth year of the Ishutoli calendar, the current king Alhanzo Linnot was immersed in wine and sex all day long, and his heir, Prince Ed Linnot is fascinated by bloody gladiatorial fights.

So of course, the Grand Lourdes Arena became the Grand Lourdes Arena. In order to satisfy the prince's hobby, every once in a while, a large number of slaves or prisoners will be marked with the logo of the red group or the blue group, and they will fight each other on the battlefield of the hot sand, under the emperor's front, until one of them sheds the last drop of blood.

However, before large-scale gladiatorial fights, Ed Linnott always likes to put on an appetizer, a one-man duel—a performance in which a good death row prisoner fights some kind of strange monster, and the results are mostly horrible, but for provocative The interest of the viewer and the terror of the prisoner in the bars have an unexpected effect.

Today, the prisoner chosen for the one-man duel was none other than Roland.

"Guerrero, what do you think?" the man who questioned Roland just now asked the orc after watching Roland being taken to the preparation room by two soldiers.

"Wei Wo, the stupid excuse of 'amnesia', which can only be thought up by a third-rate novelist, is not suitable for use in reality. You can tell with your asshole, this guy is inserted." The orc smiled contemptuously, but continued to express But it became serious and abnormal, "Such a guy of unknown origin suddenly appeared at this juncture, I'm afraid the other party smelled something."

"It doesn't matter, we can get the answer when it's our turn to play." Weaver replied.

"That's right, but it's best to keep an eye on that kid named Roland." Guerrero insisted on his opinion, "Single-handed duels may be blindfolded or bitter, and maybe Warcraft is controlled by mages, and it's not that there are no prisoners. A precedent for winning."

"Perhaps." The human man shrugged. He leaned his head close to the iron fence and, together with the others, watched the upcoming battle in the arena intently.

What kind of enemy will the young man face? Weaver guessed curiously.

What kind of enemy will I face? Roland thought uneasily, and subconsciously clenched the hilt of the two-handed giant sword—this was the most handy equipment he could find in the arsenal. As for why it was so handy, Roland himself didn't know.

Bearing all kinds of noise from the audience in the arena and the slightly sympathetic gazes of the guards, the young man slowly walked into the battlefield of Steam Sand. This piece of land belonging to warriors is as bright as ever, but now, there is a towering obelisk in the center of it—Emperor Front. Roland just watched everything silently, recalling the legend that made all the soldiers boil, tensed his nerves, and tried to get himself into the best fighting state.

But then, the roar from the other side almost tore his eardrums. When the opponent's body with a height of six meters came into Roland's sight, the young man who thought he was fully prepared couldn't help but tremble all over. The giant's whole body was wrapped in iron-like armor, and the big stick in his hand was thicker than the youth's waist. Only one bloodshot eye proved its identity.

"My God...the most brutal and bloodthirsty Cyclops~!" Roland's teeth chattered, "I'm not dreaming, am I?"

"Do you still think he is an undercover agent sent by the empire?" Weaver asked the orc with a smile.

"..."

It is indeed exciting to see a well-armed Cyclops singled out by a death row prisoner with superb sword skills, and then continue the bloody wheel battle. But for Prince Ed, today his attention is focused on the VIP seats in the arena, next to his own seat - there, a beautiful elf woman is reclining on the chair, she has more than snow. With fair skin and sea-blue long hair, set off by the emerald green dress, she looks like a beauty that only exists in fairy tales, a work of art that mortals can never touch.

An elf princess from a distant land, Oluha Chasari.

"However, I didn't expect that the elves, who are known for their elegance, would also like to watch such a gladiatorial fight." The prince pretended to be close, "Dear Oluha, I think I have an obligation to remind that the scene after the meeting will be very bloody. "

"For people who have lived in exile for a long time, a little blood is nothing." The elf smiled charmingly, "If it hadn't happened to meet the hunting team of His Royal Highness three days ago, I am afraid that my guards and I would Already buried under the knife of the rebels. Those thugs who killed nobles on sight, even envoys, are too cruel. Isn't it, Alberta?"

The elf swordsman standing behind the two nodded silently.

"So it's nothing to watch the captured rebels fighting the beasts in the arena now." Oluha concluded lightly.

"Of course, of course, now you don't have to worry at all. As the royal family of the Sofia Empire, I will never let those foolish people disturb us, and I will let them put on a good show." Ed said and held it naturally. He touched the girl's hand, and the delicate touch immediately made his blood boil.

This is really a gift from God to me~! Thinking of this, Ed Linnot almost laughed out loud. He believed that with his own wrist, this beautiful elf would be lying on the bed in the harem in a few weeks. Maybe that attendant would be a little troublesome, but even if his swordsmanship is superb, what is it in front of the entire Sofia Guards

What's more, the relationship between them is indeed just a master-servant relationship. The prince recalled Oluha's expression when he tried to get close to him in the past few days, and then judged like this. I must be thinking too much... But what is the difference between killing one more person and killing one less

Just as Ed was daydreaming, the roar of the Cyclops brought his thoughts back to the stands. The bloodthirsty prince watched the huge beast excitedly, looking forward to the imminent killing. But he didn't realize that when the blond man walked out of the shadows, Aurha's watery eyes completely froze at that moment.

That's~!

The elf tightly covered her mouth, for fear of yelling inadvertently, but the dusty memories still poured out like a tide, making her whole body tremble.

The next moment, the giant's iron rod fell on the head.

Roland hastily rolled over and dodged the blow in a state of embarrassment—in fact, he had no other choice at all. Although I accidentally chose the largest two-handed sword as a weapon, but in the eyes of the other party, this "largest" thing is probably no different from a toothpick.

This coping method was very effective. After several rounds, the big stick failed to hit the rolling target. Successive failures angered the Cyclops, so it mobilized all its strength, and the iron rod suddenly danced into a terrifying windmill, followed by waves of dust clouds rising from the ground. Roland, who was quick-sighted and quick-witted, did not let go of this opportunity. Regardless of the big stick whizzing past him, the young man rushed into the smoke in an attempt to break through.

But this time his judgment was wrong—the way the Cyclops locates their prey does not rely solely on sight and hearing. When Roland was hiding in the dust and moving slowly, he became the best target. When the big stick was blowing with the strong wind, the young gladiator didn't even have time to dodge, the only thing he could do was to block it head-on.

After a muffled sound, the fragile two-handed sword broke into two pieces immediately, and the tip of the sword flew without a trace, leaving only two-thirds of the bent blade still attached to the handle. Roland himself was also thrown out by the momentum, and slammed into the obelisk in the middle of the arena. The tearing pain all over his body made him almost faint. The Cyclops looked at the half-kneeling prey, growled in satisfaction, approached slowly, and raised the weapon in his hand again.

"This kid is going to die." Guerrero looked at the center of the arena thoughtfully, and Wei Wo sighed.

"Kill him quickly~! The good show is yet to come." Prince Ed licked his lips excitedly, and subconsciously said to himself, "Blood will make Cyclops even crazier~!"

With a deafening roar, the giant attacked. The thick iron rod is wrapped in a strong wind like a knife, pressing down on the helpless young man like a mountain. However, immediately afterwards, the space around Roland shrank violently, as if an invisible hand squeezed the air into a transparent and solid barrier, and the iron rod was bounced away the moment it hit it. Even Cyclops himself took several steps back.

Oluha was still sitting on the VIP seat, but an imperceptible gleam flashed across her pupils.

The unforeseen changes in the death fight caused an uproar in the audience, but the young gladiator didn't notice it—it was not the joy of surviving, but the endless blood red that took him away.

The noisy arena suddenly changed in an instant, as if returning to the heyday of a hundred years ago. Countless fighters rushed past Roland, fighting hard before his eyes. Whether it's the sharp edge of a weapon, the flying sand, the light in a warrior's eye or the blood flowing from a body, everything is red. And in this crimson ocean, the most dazzling is the obelisk standing in the center of the Steam Sand battlefield.

It was almost like a burning tombstone, the pillars made of flames, dazzling and scorching hot, making people afraid to look directly at it.

Maybe the emperor exists like that

Staring intently at the mirage displayed on the hot sand battlefield, the young man felt that some unknown power in his body was gradually waking up, and that power unscrupulously burned into his soul, causing the blood in his whole body to boil in an instant. Immediately afterwards, he suddenly found that his limbs were completely useless~!

Roland was sweating profusely and his face was pale. He struggled in vain to fight against the power manipulating him, but with little success, even though he had exerted all his willpower, his body did not respond at all.

In the next instant, his person and sword had turned into a bolt of lightning, shooting straight at the Cyclops who charged again. The iron rod slammed down head-on, but Roland didn't dodge or dodge, just moved slightly sideways and let it go. The howling wind whipped up the young man's golden hair, reflecting the pupils that were burning like flames—a completely different person from just now.

The ghostly figure quickly ran up to the giant's shoulder along the iron rod, then lightly jumped onto the back of the behemoth, and began to slash the armor protecting the neck with the broken sword in his hand. The Cyclops had to drop the iron rod, swinging his hands awkwardly, trying to grab the prey around his neck, but failed every time.

Roland dodged all the attacks, and at the same time cut a thin and narrow slit in the neck of the giant's armor - wide enough for death to extend in. With a flash of silver light, the broken sword in the gladiator's hand had already plunged into the back of the Cyclops' neck at its hilt, severed the fragile spine, and then inserted it all the way into the deadly aorta. Blood gushed out from all parts of the iron armor like a spring, and the Cyclops fell to the ground before he even had time to groan, his huge body could no longer move. At the same time, the blood-soaked youth landed lightly, with a dazed expression on his face.

The stand, which accommodated nearly 100,000 people, was silent. It took several seconds for the audience to respond to the gladiator who surprised them with warm cheers.

"How is it possible?" Ed looked at the crimson battlefield with unbelievable eyes, turned his head and asked the minister beside him, "Where did you find that guy?" He pointed to Roland in the distance.

"This...he should be a death row prisoner." The minister replied intermittently, wiping the sweat from his forehead, "Your Highness, please forgive me for my mistake. I really didn't expect that slave to..."

"Have such superb swordsmanship?" Ed smiled gracefully, and then waved his hands, "It's okay, I like the feeling of surprise." He said, turning to the elf girl who had been silent all the time, "An unexpected gladiatorial fight , are you satisfied?"

"Very satisfied." Oluha responded with a charming smile again, "But I am a little curious, can His Royal Highness tell me the background of that gladiator? He has mastered this skill at such a young age, I believe his past must be full of Mysterious."

Ed immediately winked at the minister beside him, who nodded knowingly, and quickly left the stands.

"You can get the answer at tonight's ball." The prince replied in a confident tone, but then he sighed regretfully, "But the next battle will be more cruel. The giant is more cunning, and it is questionable whether he will survive."

The elf's face changed in an instant, and she reluctantly replied: "Then let us look forward to it together."

Roland stood alone next to the giant's corpse, waiting vigilantly. He remembered every detail of how that power manipulated him—to a degree he could not have imagined, rather than a puppet being manipulated—but even so, he still had no clue. To make matters worse, the gladiator doesn't have time to think about the problems in his own body now, because the next battle will start soon, but he is still here, and he is not given the right to rest or withdraw.

How many enemies are there to face? Maybe they're just trying to kill me? Roland thought uneasily, but the desire to survive made him refuse to miss the chance to rest no matter what, even if he would face despair immediately.

The iron gate on the side of the arena made a screeching sound, then reopened. A group of heavily armed barbarians came out, holding heavy hammers or huge battle axes in their hands, each with a fierce murderous look on their faces—before entering the battlefield, these same Gladiators on death row have been told that if they survive they will be free, so they are desperate to slice through every obstacle in front of them.

The nobles of the Sofia Empire knew how to tempt and make gladiatorial fights bloody and exciting.

Seeing those barbarians rushing towards him like a mad cow, Roland swallowed, and then mechanically raised the broken sword in his hand, but suddenly there was a sharp wind sound behind him. The gladiator didn't have time to think about it, and his body was turned backwards high, allowing the sharp weapon to fly past him. And at the moment when his body was in the air and his whole body was turned upside down, Roland grabbed the end of the sharp weapon.

It's a brand new sword~!

The young man landed on the ground with his sword in his hand. He found that he was no longer alone. The prisoners who laughed at him just now were standing beside him, also fully armed and holding sharp knives, waiting with him for the upcoming battle.

"Hi, I'm Wei Wo." The man who was interrogating him just greeted him friendly, then pouted, "That guy's name is Guerrero."

"You..." Roland didn't know how to answer for a moment.

"Then there will be a long round of battles. The side that is completely wiped out will be replaced by the next group of gladiators. If our group wants to end alive, we need to withstand at least three waves of attacks." Wei Wo explained to himself, as if a Gladiator expert, "Save some energy so you won't fall down."

"Only in this way can we be free." The orc murmured to himself, staring intently at the emerald green figure on the stand.

The next moment, the two forests of swords collided together, and the splashed blood made the hot sand battlefield look extraordinarily dazzling.