"These green-skinned orcs are so powerful!"

The screams of fishmen were heard outside the camp.

Obviously, they were massacred by the orcs unilaterally, and Black was squatting there, quickly searching the injured orcs whose daggers were pierced through the eyes and into the brain.

Still thinking:

"The orc just now is so old, but his strength is at least twice as strong as mine. This is still the elite template of Prince Drake, and he doesn't have the upper hand in the front.

If it wasn't a sneak attack...

Just when he grabbed my neck, he probably could have broken my spine.

With the warrior class disappearing more and more, there is no chance of winning against them head-on. However, it is not difficult to assassinate them with sneak attacks.

Hey, this is..."

He quickly found a bottle in the orc's hide bag at his feet, removed the stopper, and saw a black liquid inside.

Loss of smell in undead form.

But just by looking at the appearance of this thing, you can tell that it is not a good thing.

"The Blood Ring Clan is good at hunting guerrillas, so this should be poison."

Blake blinked, quickly dipped a rag in the venom, and spread it evenly on his dagger and dagger. He glanced outside the camp.

Four strong and furious orcs killed the murlocs lured by Black within a few minutes.

The best thing is that these furious guys, controlled by murderous intent, spread out to chase the escaping fishmen. It is estimated that they will end the battle in a few minutes.

Then, with the killing intent satisfied in his heart, he returned to the camp to rest.

This is an excellent opportunity.

Black Shaw exited the camp, hid in the shadows again, and tiptoed back to the edge where the hills and swamps met. He stared at the thinnest of the four orcs.

The large army of Bleeding Ring Orcs should have been recruited to the Arathi battlefield to fight the human highland knights of Stromgard. Those who stayed behind were all stragglers.

They guarded the Sardo Bridge, the retreat route of the Bleeding Ring Orcs, and also had the Dragonmaw Orcs stationed in Grim Batol in the center of the wetlands as backup.

The Life-Binder and the powerful red dragon queen Alexstrasza, who was captured by the evil artifact, should also be imprisoned in the Wildhammer dwarf city that was abandoned hundreds of years ago.

These orcs have almost no opponents in the wetlands. No wonder their troops are so scattered, and there are only so few people in such a large camp.

Blake's eyes rolled, and an idea came to his mind.

I just killed two orcs and gained more experience than killing thirty murlocs. Obviously, the "level" of the orcs is much higher than that of the murlocs.

Although there is no magical thing like "level" in reality, more "experience" can only mean that orcs are more dangerous than fishmen.

Now the collapse of the warrior class is probably inevitable.

If you don't want to let yourself continue to fall into weakness, then the top priority is to raise the thief class that is not affected by the Shadow Curse as soon as possible before breaking through the dangerous Sardo Bridge.

In other words, hurry up and fight monsters to level up!

In this wetland right now, is there any better target than these scattered blood ring orcs?

With this thought in mind, Blake silently made preparations to attack under the cover of branches and leaves.

While waiting for the blood-ringed orc carrying the hunting stick, dragging the murloc corpse closer with a satisfied look on his face, the skinny rib man assassin suddenly jumped down from the tree.

It was almost a replica of the attack on the old orc, but this time Black learned the lesson.

The thrust of the dagger in his left hand was a feint. The orc, who was frightened by the sneak attack, first waved his hunting stick to block, and then the dagger in his right hand suddenly thrust out.

A heavy thing like a hunting stick requires both hands to hold.

"puff"

The sharp fish-man dagger stabbed into the orc's temple accurately and hard, and when Black's wrist turned, it was like a red-hot nail, messing up his brain.

"Buzz"

The scorching power passed into the body along the dagger. This time's "experience" was a little more than the previous killing of orcs, which made Blake's eyes light up.

If the assassination is successful, killing with one blow, are there additional rewards?

Awesome!

An hour later.

Black dragged his trembling wrist and pulled out the dagger from the eye of the last blood ring orc.

His chest was opened by a battle ax and there was a dangerous blood mark. If it weren't for the undead curse that prevented the blood from flowing out in large quantities, the orc's counterattack just now would probably have seriously injured him again.

This failed assassination also made Blake understand a truth.

The stealth effect brought by his primary shadow affinity is not omnipotent. Blood ring orcs are good at hunting, and their perception is stronger than that of ordinary orcs.

To deal with the old, weak, sick and disabled, assassination is very convenient, but to deal with such blood-ringed orcs in their prime, if you are not careful, you will be discovered by them when you get close.

Thanks to the help of the poison smeared on the dagger, he was able to kill the strongest blood-ringed orc in a frontal battle where the sneak attack failed.

This fully illustrates two truths.

First, it is best for assassins not to confront warriors or hunters.

Second, poison is really a good thing.

After a two-hour rest, Black moved the six orc corpses together and, while searching them, threw a piece of dried fish into his mouth that looked edible.

"Oh, my luck has run out."

After searching the corpses of six entire orcs, Black found nothing except several bottles of blood ring poison.

He sighed, with a sense of sadness as a non-chief, and threw the dried meat in his hand to the little fishman Benbol Ba next to him who was trying to grab the orc battle axe.

The latter screamed in surprise, grabbed the dried meat and started to bite it.

It's actually a good mood.

But Blake's mood did not get better. He spent two days killing many fishmen before finding a dagger and a dagger.

I tried my best to kill six blood ring orcs, but still found nothing.

This shows that in the real world of Azeroth, good equipment and weapons are not as abundant as in the game.

You can understand it if you think about it.

After all, it is designed for playability and gameplay. How can there be so many good blacksmiths in the world who can make sophisticated weapons all over the mountains and plains? Even the dwarves who are the best at forging cannot...

Um?

etc!

Blake suddenly thought of something.

He raised his head and glanced at Ironbeard's Tomb, which was burned by the orcs, and a clear smile suddenly appeared on his thin face.

When dwarves bury their dead, they seem to have the habit of bringing burial objects with them...

No wonder these orcs built a camp here after burning and destroying this tomb, and worked there for a long time. These blood ring orcs came to "fight against each other".

Black curled his lips, and in his heart he despised these bottomless orc invaders. He stood up, raised his fingers at Benbolba who was biting the dried meat, and said:

"Little guy, come with me. Let's go to Ironbeard's Tomb to worship the ancestors of the dwarves.

I would like to express my respect. I hope that the souls of those who have passed away will see that I have killed the orc invaders that disturbed their peace...

Give this poor traveler something good."

The little fish man croaked twice, followed Blake with the unique walking posture of a fish man, walking around the burned black rocks, and walked into the tomb in front of him.

The tombs of dwarves are actually no different from the tombs of humans.

However, dwarves are good at digging pits and carving stones, so their ancestral tombs are generally larger and more luxurious than those of humans. Black stepped into the tomb holding the torch left by the orcs.

Walking down the stairs to the first floor, what you see is a coffin that was dragged out by the orcs, thrown to the ground and smashed to pieces.

There are also skeletons scattered everywhere.

"These guys..."

Black shook his head, feeling a little disappointed in his heart. It seemed that the orcs had already ransacked this place, and they probably didn't leave anything good behind.

But he did not leave immediately. Instead, he took some time to pile up the scattered bones and made a simple tombstone out of the broken coffin.

This behavior makes no sense, but Blake has lived in another world for more than twenty years, and he has developed the habit of worshiping his ancestors regularly every year.

He couldn't stand the act of desecrating the souls of the dead.

Although it is meaningless, it can at least give him some peace of mind.

He stood up and bowed to the simple tombstone. The little fish man behind him looked at him curiously, and followed his example and bowed forward.

Then he walked into the lower and wider tomb. As soon as he walked in, he heard a strange snoring sound.

It was like the sound of some kind of liquid shaking, with a weird roar.

At this moment, Blake quickly grabbed the little fish man, rolled him backwards, and lay there, while a ball of green mucus flew away like a cannonball, grazing his head.

As it hit the stone wall behind, white smoke suddenly rose from the stone.
To be continued...