Duel and Discrimination

Duel and Discrimination

Seeing the Pale Orc fly into a rage, Lotner waved his hand and unleashed a dazzling sword aura, tearing a bloody path through the orc army with a thunderous blast.

He moved like a bolt of lightning. By the time the sword aura had completely vanished, he had reached the Pale Orc. Behind him, on both sides, were dismembered orcs, severed limbs scattered everywhere, blood flowing like a river...

An Elf with a Mid-Tier Epic Bloodline, and a Demon-Hunting Ranger with a hidden class—his terrifying strength truly let him hold off a hundred of these orcs alone!

"Well, well, a Pale Orc? A rare species from the Second Era, right? My father killed dozens of them. So where did an atavistic freak like you crawl out from?" Lotner examined him carefully. His aura was only slightly stronger than Lotner's, not even a full rank higher.

So Lotner did not take him too seriously, shooting him a look of pure contempt!

Of course, he still knew his limits. He gripped his longsword tightly, ready to fight at any moment.

And the Pale Orc?

What he despised most were those big elven eyes!

Or rather, no race liked the Elves' beautiful, arrogant, condescending looks—the kind that said, You're trash. I'm from your great-grandfather's generation. I killed your great-grandfather, I killed your grandfather, I killed your father. Even if I can't beat you, I can outlive you. Come on, hit me. You can't beat me. I've lived longer than you, so I'm better than you, and all that...

Anyway, when it came to drawing aggro, Elves ranked among the very best on the Gods Continent. They had practically maxed it out...

So with just one sentence from Lotner...

The Pale Orc was already trembling with rage...

The two did not immediately start fighting because it was a long-standing tradition on the Gods Continent. Whenever the commanders of two armies met during battle, they would first taunt each other, trade a few insults, build up some hatred, and only then continue fighting!

"I'll tear your head off! Are you pointy-eared bastards determined to save those little Dwarves?" Though the Pale Orc was the commander of this army, he had a mission to carry out. Orcs of this bloodline were not stupid.

Even though Elves and Orcs were mortal enemies, he still wanted to ask whether this battle could be avoided!

It was not cowardice. He was just asking. As for whether his earlier insults would make war unavoidable, he did not care.

But as soon as Lotner heard that he wanted to tear off his... he did not listen to another word. He spat out a mouthful of sticky elf phlegm, which landed squarely on the Pale Orc's beloved greatsword...

Without a doubt.

The two guys, neither of whom had any interest in talking, instantly clashed.

William stood atop a tree, temporarily halting the elves' arrows, because the orcs likewise had not taken the initiative to surround Lotner.

This was an unavoidable duel!

When someone could tear through an army's formation and charge straight before the enemy commander, no one could stop such a duel. Otherwise, they would be scorned by the Gods.

And players loved doing things that got them scorned...

So.

A few years after the Chosen Ones descended upon the Gods Continent, no one bothered observing the Gods' etiquette around players anymore. As long as the enemy was an immortal army of Chosen Ones, they just had to fight.

As for Elves cursing and spitting?

Was that not perfectly normal?

Did Elves not need to shit and piss?

Did elven farts smell good?

Did Elves not need baths?

Were you going to say, "Goddess, don't do that. Shitting will make you lose your halo"? If the goddess heard that, it would be a miracle if she did not slap you to death...

In short, in the game Gods, you would see the most authentic Elves, as well as every other race.

You would also see how vastly different an Elf could be on the battlefield and in ordinary life!

In the Peaceful Forest, you could see every bit of the Elves' perfection, elegance, and kindness.

Yet on the battlefield, you could also see them raise their butcher's blades against any living creature, regardless of whether they were sick, crippled, old, or young. Their utter indifference toward life often came as a tremendous shock to those who did not know the truth.

They were the most extreme of living beings, yet also the finest warriors!

Bang!

Both wielded swords—one a one-handed sword, the other a heavy two-handed sword. Ordinarily, when such weapons collided, the user of the one-handed sword would be suppressed. Yet the advantages granted by bloodline and class allowed Lotner to match him blow for blow.

Surging battle aura raged through a radius of ten meters!

Grass and trees shattered into fragments, carried far away by wave after wave of shockwaves.

In only a few seconds.

Numerous bloody wounds had appeared on both of them.

Not every attack could be blocked.

But Elves did not fear trading wound for wound, either.

Because true Pure-Blood Elves!

Had no weaknesses at all!

Their defense was also far superior to that of other races.

Especially an Epic Bloodline boss like Lotner. He knew his body possessed an immense health pool, so he was not afraid of bleeding!

The two fought fiercely, battle aura flying in every direction. Under the collision of their auras, the ground beneath their feet sank layer by layer, creating an exaggerated and shocking scene.

The orcs cried out in alarm again and again, occasionally discussing who would win.

What would happen to them if their leader lost?

Uh...

For most orcs, was that not something they would consider only after losing?

But as they watched their leader, who had originally held the advantage, get forced backward, unease began to rise in their hearts...

The Elves, meanwhile, stood expressionlessly atop the trees. There were no cheers and no shouts, only silence. Their eyes remained fixed on the center of the battlefield, ready to attack at any moment.

Were the Elves not excited?

They were.

But Elves felt that shouting and screaming would be far too beneath them. It did not suit their proud status...

After all, they were all long-lived races with broad experience. They absolutely could not behave like these short-lived races, or it would lower the Elves' prestige.

That was why.

When you saw Elves charge expressionlessly, slaughter their enemies, or even get cut down without uttering a single cry of pain, it was entirely because of racial prestige...

William watched the battlefield without blinking. He was not particularly worried that Lotner would lose!

In his mind, Lotner would definitely win, and these orcs would not escape either.

Otherwise, with William's troops already so scarce, why would he come save these Dwarves?

But what worried him most was who exactly stood behind these orcs?

Was it merely an ordinary orc tribe?

Or a clan under that Dragon's command!

The difference between the two was like heaven and earth.

Though the Dragon might not care enough to avenge the orcs, and might even devour them outright because of their defeat.

Still, better safe than sorry.

If the Dragon of East Sea Snow Mountain truly emerged ahead of schedule.

Then Border Town would be in for some fun...

If nothing unexpected happened.

By the later stages of Version 1.0, the Dragon of East Sea Snow Mountain would be roughly a level 70 Legendary Dragon boss.

And now, it was one year before open beta.

Even if that Dragon was not level 70 yet, it had to be at least level sixty-something!

No matter what.

That Dragon was an enormous threat.

Please vote, guys. Oh, I edited the earlier chapters yesterday. The changes were minor, just mentioning it.