Oh My God! Earthlings are Insane!

Whether it was out of the pride of a Turanian warrior or to reassure Kasava, the Ice Storm couldn't resist the Wildhammer's provocation.

As for wine fights, the rules are the same no matter on Earth or in another world.

——When you are at a banquet, accepting a toast from one person is equivalent to accepting a toast from everyone at the banquet. No matter who raises a glass to you again, it is impossible to refuse.

After cultivating to the level of Wildhammer and Ice Storm, the body is full of totem power, and the efficiency of gastrointestinal peristalsis is dozens or even hundreds of times that of ordinary orcs, and there is no problem of being unable to eat or drink.

What's more, the Wildhammer was not aimed at the Ice Storm, but raised glasses to the four aces and five masters of the Blood Skulls at the same time. Like drawing water, it dries up a whole bucket of spirits in an instant, and the steam from the 36,000 pores makes the banquet as lively as a bathhouse.

The atmosphere is so frenzied, if Ice Storm doesn't drink three to five barrels, seven or eight barrels of spirits, it would seem too out of place.

After drinking for three rounds, Wildhammer was the first to jump out again, inviting Ice Storm to dance with him.

"War Dance" is a unique tradition in Turanze.

It is to display the powerful combat skills in the battle in a dance-like form, which is extremely exaggerated.

It is usually used in sacrifices and banquets to please ancestor spirits, to pay respects to distinguished guests who came from afar, or between two Turan warriors who had conflicts to settle their suspicions and convey goodwill.

Wildhammer and Ice Storm have fought against each other many times in the arena, and they also had frictions off the arena.

Now the Bloodskulls must work together to set out for the center of Turanze and even the Land of Light.

At the feast before the expedition, Wildhammer invited Ice Storm to resolve the previous conflicts with a war dance.

This is very much in line with Turan's tradition, something that cannot be rejected by the ice storm.

In fact, Icestorm is a very good war dancer.

Using war dance to decide the winner is two completely opposite concepts to fighting for life on the arena.

The latter's moves focus on reducing complexity to simplicity, and are simple and rude. It is best to punch silently, and then burst out with devastating destructive power.

The former requires to minimize the destructiveness in the dazzling and thrilling moves, and attack the opponent's vital points seemingly dangerously, so that the onlookers and even the opponent himself think that the hit is certain, but in fact, they cannot touch the opponent's half. a hair.

In a wonderful and dangerous battle dance, if anyone accidentally leaves a wound as thick as a hair on his opponent, he will be laughed at by the onlookers, thinking that his moves are too clumsy, and he cannot control his own strength at all .

If it was in a more serious sacrificial ceremony, this clumsy war dance would be considered to offend the ancestors.

Naturally, an agile warrior like Ice Storm who follows the route of "little and fast spirit" can control every inch of himself more precisely than a strong warrior like Wildhammer who has the blood of a wild elephant and takes the route of "silly, big, thick and black". Flesh and blood danced a more graceful and gorgeous war dance.

Therefore, it is even more impossible for her to refuse the Wildhammer's invitation.

Otherwise, it would be tantamount to saying to the Wildhammer in front of all the powerful members of the Bloodskulls: "Your dance is too clumsy. You are not worthy to join me in presenting the most elegant dance to the sacred ancestors."

Enduring such humiliation, Wildhammer could only turn against her and fight her to the death, but no one would stand by her side. She would never want to participate in the final swearing-in meeting and actual combat drills, and escaped from the city of Noire.

Ice Storm could only bite the bullet and danced a war dance.

This jump is out of control.

She is not only like a swift cheetah, but also like a gorgeous butterfly, and more like a bunch of sharp lightning. On the stage made up of dozens of empty wine barrels, she swayed dozens of illusory and real The phantom of the Wildhammer defeated the Wildhammer with ease.

Not only won the applause and cheers of hundreds of powerhouses including Kasava, but also won the respect of the Wildhammer.

It is of course a good thing to be able to resolve conflicts with the Wildhammer.

At least during the actual combat exercise, Wildhammer would not stare at Ice Storm and make trouble for her.

But in this way, when another strongman invites Ice Storm to perform a battle dance to all the ancestors who died in the blood skull arena, she can only grit her teeth and agree.

In this way, Ice Storm danced a round of war dance, drank a round of fine wine, and then danced the next round of more gorgeous and fierce war dance with the strength of the boiling wine.

Today's wine seems to be particularly mellow.

I don't know what kind of precious secret medicine is added in it, making every blood vessel in Ice Storm's body and the entire brain melt and burn like in hot magma.

But she didn't feel pain.

On the contrary, it gave birth to a pleasure that cannot be described in words.

It was like melting away my old self into a new world that was more beautiful and vast.

In this whirling new world, she can leave everything behind.

Whether it is the inhuman torture suffered in childhood.

Or mother's worried teaching.

Or the deep-seated hatred for the man named "Father".

It is still those days of hiding in the XZ and panicking like a mouse all day long, leaving an indelible imprint on the soul.

And after coming to the Blood Skull Arena, I was worried every day, carefully groomed, wrapped myself behind a thick mask, and sealed and protected my true self with an ice layer called "Frost Queen", never daring to ask Nobody leaks any secrets.

Just to be able to live a few days of ordinary life like a normal Turanian.

Still in every late-night nightmare, I woke up drenched in cold sweat, touched my whole body to confirm that my disguise hadn’t fallen off, but still couldn’t fall asleep again, and could only stare at the scarlet eyes, waiting for the dawn to come.

The ice storm that has been tortured by this feeling for two years has already been suppressed to the limit.

Thinking that in two or three days, he would be able to leave Black Corner City and go to Chijin City to end his fate.

She felt extremely refreshed.

Unknowingly, the pain of the past two years, no, the whole thirty years, was mixed with the strength of alcohol and vented out through the war dance.

If we say that in the beginning, it was only ace gladiators such as Wildhammer and the strong fighters of the battle group who sent invitations and challenges to her in turn.

Later, gradually letting go of himself, falling into ecstasy, and controlled by the enkephalin and dopamine stimulated by the secret medicine, Ice Storm became the one who took the initiative and provoked.

Like being in the arena.

She became the center of attention, the star of the limelight, and felt that under her twirling toes, the empty wine barrel was filled with high explosives carefully refined by the dwarves.

Explosion after explosion made her fly higher and higher, rushing to the clouds.

Then, fall from the clouds to the abyss.

Fall into the darkest and coldest corner of the abyss.

...

Icestorm was awakened by a harsh sound of metal clashing and scraping.

The sound was like a rusty iron nail, piercing hard into her brain.

It made her withdraw from the chaos in an instant, and regained her vigilance like a cheetah.

She immediately smelled danger.

This is not a banquet scene.

Not her residence or anywhere in the Bloodskull Arena as she knew it.

It's a cold dungeon.

Although the walls and the ground were fairly clean, an oil lamp was lit every two or three arms' distance on the wall, emitting a dim light, slightly dispelling the darkness deep underground.

The four large pipes above the four corners also sprayed fresh air into it, making it free from the filth and rancidity of ordinary dungeons.

But seeping into the gaps between each black stone slab, the blood that had already turned black still made Ice Storm squint his eyes.

Then she discovered that a black metal ring was put on her neck, wrists and ankles.

The inner side of the metal ring is covered with dense spikes, if you move your hands and feet a little more violently, the spikes will pierce into the flesh.

On the outside of the metal ring, ancient runes are engraved—not the cuneiform characters of the Turan ancestors, but the characters from the Land of Holy Light, which are curved and full of arcs, like dried earthworms.

The unusually familiar words made Ice Storm's pupils shrink suddenly.

She probably guessed what the hell it was.

Gritting his teeth, he used his right hand to grab the metal ring on his left wrist.

Because she couldn't exert force on both sides at the same time, the spikes on the inside of the metal ring pierced deeply into her flesh and blood, almost touching her bones.

But the metal ring is harder than steel, without any deformation.

It is impossible to destroy this metal ring with the strength of flesh and blood alone.

With a low growl, she activated the power of the totem.

But with the shining of the gorgeous tattoos all over her body, the metal ring also instantly changed from black to orange red, and from the sharp needle piercing into the flesh and blood of the ice storm, several wisps of flames that were fiercer than lightning sprang out, and ruthlessly penetrated into her bone marrow.

The ice storm screamed, the power of the totem disappeared, and even half of the totem armor could not be summoned.

She endured the severe pain and raised her left arm tremblingly, only to see a ring-shaped scorching mark left on her left wrist, like a pair of black, invisible shackles, imprisoning the half of her soul that originated from Turanze.

Sure enough, this is some kind of device that seals the power of the totem.

It should be the masterpieces of magicians and dwarves from the Land of Light.

Although judging from the rough texture and omissions of runes, the quality of this device is not too high.

But the ability to temporarily limit the ice storm is enough.

At this moment, Ice Storm heard a heavy panting sound behind him.

When he looked back, he saw a totem beast whose body was more than three arms long and whose fangs were as sharp as a blade. It emerged from the darkness and stared straight at him.

This beast is like a combination of a jackal and a bear.

But on the head, shoulders, and waist, there is another layer of very thick bone plates that exude metallic luster.

It's like wearing a pair of overlapping armor.

"Tooth Roar!"

In Ice Storm's mind, a name that would make even the most experienced hunter break out in a cold sweat suddenly appeared.