The Journey of the Demon Hunter

"Don't pretend, you bastard." Otto laughed, but then coughed more. It took a long time for the cough to get over. Blood gushes from the corners of his mouth. "I know you are a good person, a werewolf, you are more hopeful in your heart, and hatred is at best a passerby... These days we have a good cooperation. Are we, are we friends, werewolves?"

"...I can't say no, Otto."

"Haha, it is estimated that Catan will be very angry. I have found a newcomer and a fighter for the team. Then he will share his equipment and trophies. This is our line when recruiting newcomers. As long as they come, they will be friends, uh... ...Unlike the current group of adventurers, they don't even know who the people around them are...cough cough cough!"

Otto's laughter turned into a violent cough.

"Stop talking, Otto. You can't die, I haven't paid you yet."

"No, I ask my employer for money, but I don't want my friend..."

Zelin looked at the goblin sadly.

He never betrayed him. He is a loyal and reliable comrade in arms, an experienced old adventurer.

But he doesn't need him in this age.

His glory is the same as that of his friends, only staying in the stories that no one knows in the past. When the whole world is paying attention to alliances and tribes, kings and chiefs, who cares about the past ten years ago, in remote corners, in the corners of the world.

The telescope made a low muffled creaking noise. Francesca has returned to the world of demon hunters. They came to Azeroth without relying on the Chaos Magic Portal, and he could not contact her. He can't use potions to improve his vitality without treatment, which will only increase his pain.

Zelin closed his eyes and held the goblin's hand. Otto's palm trembled and twitched.

He was just a poor man abandoned by the times.

He missed the young age, the age full of vitality, friendliness and passion, and the age of ignorance, impulse and passion.

He is getting old.

Can't go back anymore.

And what he wants is by no means wages. I just want to relive the era that never comes back.

Isn't it the demon hunter?

The knight he met when he first came out of the teacher, they worked together to kill a crab spider, that was the first time he defeated such a huge monster. His name was Claren, and he died in a war the following year. The young druid I saw in the mountains, he was attacked by the fog demon and scarred, he helped him make potions, helped him explain to the villagers, and kept him in the village to recuperate. His name was Ned, and people later said he went to the mountains to collect medicine and never came back. The tavern maid who was rescued by him from the demon spirit dog, every time he went to the tavern, he would secretly add more wine and more vegetables on purpose. Her name was Effie, and later died of a bad illness. Her family was reluctant to spend money to get a doctor, so they went to the church to pray for two days, and finally buried her hastily.

His friends left one after another, leaving him alone in loneliness, letting him sink into self-narcotic alcohol and gambling. What he desires is not commission, but friends, comrades-in-arms. But who cares about a mediocre, weird and old demon hunter.

Then he encountered the Van Geborg massacre, and when Francesca approached him incognito, he accepted it without hesitation.

The wizard warlock has always believed that this is his compassion and sense of justice.

But what prompted him to agree was only his wish to be needed.

Just as it was back then. Just like those trivial, humble needs. Instead of throwing down money bags in disgust.

After so many people left, it proved that he was still not a useless, pedantic, stubborn and ignorant old guy.

He now understands Otto's ideas very well. Only when we are old, will we begin to miss the time of the past. Will begin, cherish the stories that have disappeared.

The evening breeze played the harp among the willow trees, and the blue and white moon watched indifferently in the sky.

The brilliance in Otto's eyes gradually dimmed.

"Catan, Geddor, Lilysa, Gojin, I want to introduce you a new friend...Where are you..."

Zelin squeezed his hand hard, deceiving himself Otto's palm was still strong.

The goblin's whimper gradually turned into an unheardable whisper, and a drop of crystal tears slid down the wrinkled eye corners to his cheeks.

"Where are you..."

These few days are the most like the time he had been adventurous with his friends back then. If possible, how I hope it will be like this every day...

Those eyes full of nostalgia, nostalgia and sadness completely lost their look.

Zelin closed his eyes and pressed his mouth firmly. But he failed. He stretched out his hand, covered his mouth, and grabbed his cheek with his fingers.

The cicada screamed on the banyan tree, and the frog beside the pool echoed in a low voice, singing the choking elegy.

Time is like a ruthless goddess, leaving these backward men and women behind, leaving only the back of the name of the times, and never looking back.

Chapter 2981: Pride and Prejudice

The goblin mercenaries got the money and left happily. On the way, they were still discussing whether they should report whether Ricketts fell from a height and broke his neck, or was accidentally eaten by a ravenous dragon. They must help Zelin conceal it. Since they took the money, they were on the same boat. If one person leaks, no one can escape. Why not just use an insignificant person in exchange for so much money.

Zelin prepared a tombstone for Otto. He figured out a way to get off a wooden board and engrave on it. Carved for a long time.

[Here is a great and upright goblin resting here, he is just going to another world to find old friends. 】

The harmless blood petals gathered around the grave like curious children, like a wreath for this old adventurer in the land he had fought and ventured for.

Ze Lin let go of his blood-stained hand, and a small cross lay in the palm of his hand.

This is Otto's relic to hand over to Sfatney.

Sfatney was just under the crystal tower to the north, using the light of the crystal to organize the manuscript.

Zelin handed the cross to her. She looked at the cross and was silent for a long time.

"...This is the talisman that my father went to Stratholme to pray for Russia when my father was born in Russia." Sfatney held the cross in both hands and lowered her head: "Can you tell me what happened to Otto? Write it down... at least someone should remember them."

Zelin told Sfatney seriously about everything and everything they had done together these days.

Perhaps for many people, these are just small things that are not worth listening to, but for them, these are worth remembering. Zelin narrated that Sfatney's thin fingers were holding the quill, and the tip of the pen was rubbing against the paper, rustling.

Two owls fell on the treetops, cooing.

When Zelin finished speaking, Sfatney's record paused, then opened a new page and continued writing.

"He will never be afraid of trouble." The Forsaken whispered: "After Russia crawled out of the cemetery, Russia wanted to escape home, but the house was left in ruins. Russia—I! Want to go south. Escape. I have relatives living in a village to the south. But when I arrived, I only saw chaos. The child was crying, the woman was busy closing the window, the man was holding a pitchfork and torch, and the militia captain yelled at me. Call, the priest is going to burn me to death, they call me—monster."

Sfatney's voice was low, and the Forsaken couldn't express their sadness. They had no tears for a long time.

"I ran away, they chased me, I jumped into the river, I didn't need to breathe, I kept being washed to the beach by the river. I didn't want to die... Later, I hid in the sea, accompanied by seaweed, crabs and lobsters every day. I thought I would live like this for the rest of the time. Until... I don’t know how long it took, and I noticed a ship from Menethil Harbor to Kalimdor. One night, I I ran into the pier, escaped into a wooden barrel, and smuggled to Kalimdor. At that time, I just thought that my father had mentioned that he had a good friend in Kalimdor who lived in Gadgetzan. I just thought After his friend refused and chased me away, I can lie down in one place and wait for death without any worries."

The night wind swept across the tree canopy, and the green leaves made a rattling noise.

Sfatney turned the page again.

"Otto... Do you know what was the first sentence he asked after seeing me, understanding the situation and my identity? He asked me if I would like to take a hot bath and change into new clothes."

This is indeed something he will do.

"He knew that I was an undead, and he did not drive me out. He asked me to stay, ran out by himself, helped me contact his friends in the tribe, forged a new identity for me, and taught me how to make it. He looks more like a living person, so as not to be rejected by others, he bought me potions and preservatives for the undead. When I was down, he often told me stories about my father and the adventures of their older generations. Every time he said, this is putting a long line and catching a big fish. I hope I can repay him in the future..."

Sfatney could no longer control her voice. She threw away the quill and closed the book with a bang: "He was obviously just throwing bait at the starving fish! He would never admit that he was a Good people..."