116: Chapter 2: Appetizer of the Great Wilderness Feast_1 116: Chapter 2: Appetizer of the Great Wilderness Feast_1 The appreciation of beauty transcends all races.
A well-accepted maxim of the Aegean Continent.
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Despite their initial shock at the prospect of going to the fad magical beast heaven Southern Cross Star Forest, the Mastiff People, nevertheless, were not lax in their training.
They rejected the spears Richard bought for them, only accepting the hide armor.
It wasn’t because the spears were inadequate, but the Mastiff People simply didn’t have as strong a foundation in martial arts as the pandas.
They couldn’t utilize them, shocking Richard and a few beautiful won with the weapons they magically produced from behind them.
Surprisingly, they chose the enormous leg bone of the Larza Beast as their weapon.
The large pale bone slung over their shoulders indeed had an aura — a Doug Tribe aura.
Richard had to admire the imagination of the Mastiff People.
The training he held for them left him sowhat puzzled.
A joke — when had Richard ever learned staff fighting techniques?
He had only learned the use of bayonets as a scout.
His wolf-fang club was mainly intended for its cunning design.
What depressed him even more was that the ‘phalanx’ wolf-fang club was actually only 1,100 pounds heavy as revealed by the scale in Bog Village.
“Swindled!
Damn it!
Human traders are indeed human traders!” Richard was utterly speechless.
He didn’t expect the trader to deceive him.
Primary (basic) unard combat techniques and weight-bearing aerobic exercises eventually beca the primary training for the Mastiff People.
Richard’s extensive knowledge of the intricacies of body structure benefited these apprentices greatly while making their spines chill.
Teaching the Mastiff People to use flying daggers also took quite a bit of effort from Richard — he had truly experienced their stubbornness.
“Why do we need to learn how to use flying daggers, Master Richard?” Bellamy was pestering Richard, speaking incessantly: “With our strength, one blow from our club could flatten a rock!”
“Idiot!” Richard barked angrily: “Before you strike with your club, first give them a flying dagger.
That’s the smart way.”
But Bellamy remained puzzled, not understanding the wisdom behind this approach.
“For argunt’s sake, what if the opponent is stronger than you, what will you do then?” Richard asked.
“We Doug Tribe always fight together!
We are not afraid!” Bellamy blurted with a stiffened neck.
Although this tradition was often frowned upon among the Beamon, the good-hearted Bellamy had to stick with the truth before Richard.
“Why not solve the problem by giving them a flying dagger first!” Richard shook the shiny flying dagger in his hand, persuasively urging: “You can sar this flying dagger with a deadly poison.
Simply hitting the target would solve your problems!”
“Richard!” Helen had heard enough: “How can a sacrifice teach his followers to use sothing that breaks the noble conventions!”
“Don’t interrupt, Helen!” Richard continued to look at Bellamy: “Just think about it.
The thrill of hunting down a powerful opponent surpasses the joy of a joint fight!”
“But what if we encounter a human mage, aren’t we still dood?” Bellamy reasoned: “Their magic is always stronger than ours!”
Smacking his forehead, Richard was nearly driven mad by this stubborn giant.
“Put your left hand on the tree!” Richard ordered.
Bellamy innocently put his hand on the giant tree behind him, which spread like an umbrella.
Richard swiftly drew the willow leaf dagger.
With a flash, he threw it, leaving behind a faint silver trace.
With a “swish”, the willow leaf dagger crafted by the legendary dwarf flew straight into Bellamy’s palm sticking to the tree.
“Just use your flying dagger to pin down the casting hand of a mage!” Richard shouted.
“Call the witch doctor!” Helen scread in horror.
She called for the witch doctor in their team while cursing Richard, “Richard, you idiot!
Why would you hurt your loyal follower!”
“It’s alright!” Bellamy pulled the gleaming dagger out from between his fingers, thoughtfully.
Hearing Helen’s call, a team witch doctor sent by Viscount Sik, Nochadamas of the Pigiel tribe, rushed at once with his dicine box to look at the wound on the Mastiff man’s hand.
Nochadamas was the best, and the only, witch doctor under Viscount Sik.
He embraced the na ‘Nochadamas’ because this Pigiel witch doctor had heard that it was the na of a great astrologer in the human kingdom.
He was currently the best forecaster of Bog village and always aspired to be the best forecaster of Bimon Kingdom.
“Not injured?” Nochadamas, the witch doctor, was dumbstruck.
“Spout more nonsense!
Do I possess such a poor aim that one could label a sacrifice?” Richard was not very fond of this sa tribesman.
This rustic witch doctor always emitted a strange sll.
Richard, disregarding his strong opposition, instructed his guard Gude to forcefully drag him down the river for cleaning countless tis, but the strange sll still persisted.
The mont Richard found out that this witch doctor Nochadamas was the one who predicted that “Richard” was to be Helen’s future husband, he thoroughly took him out of his good books.
Richard couldn’t forget the handso face of that Prince nad Richard.
Especially when he was looking in the mirror.
In fact, Richard also considered himself quite handso, though it was best appreciated in reduced lighting from a side view.
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