The great adventurer of light, the intermediate warrior, Lord Orwell, stood in front of the wooden door of the stone house with his eyes closed, stretching his waist.

The afternoon sun shone on his stubble-covered face, warm and comfortable.

[It is actually good to take such a comfortable day as a vacation]

Such an idea arose to the burly warrior carrying a giant axe.

But the next moment, when he opened his eyes again, his eyes fell on the scene in front of him, and he couldn't help but frown hard again.

Alas, this place is such a remote and simple little village...

My own mid-level warrior and respected adventurer of light should drink refreshing golden ale in the best taverns in the town, watch the dancers twist their tempting waists, and brag about the stories of heroic battles with monsters with their colleagues... Even if you want to give yourself a holiday, you should choose the scenic coast of Gasili or the refreshing forest of life instead of this remote village called "Dor".

No matter how you look at it, you are out of place here - even though the stone house behind you is already one of the best houses in the village, and the other villagers live in wooden houses or more simple thatched huts, Orwell just feels not used to it.

[It's all that guy Gavin blamed me for replacing him]

Orwell sighed and began to wander around the village of Dore.

First he passed the open space in the east - a large area was specially marked here, and dozens of male villagers in thick burlap clothes were training hard, using their weapons or farm tools in their hands to launch fierce attacks on the scarecrow in front of him, and they were already sweating profusely.

Not far behind adults, many children are imitating adult actions and are also training with a firm eye.

"There are self-defense groups everywhere." Orwell looked at it for a while and murmured to himself.

In the small village of Dore, joining the "Knights of Self-Defense" is a very glorious thing!

Although the Statue of Light in the center of the village ensures that no monsters suddenly emerge from the village, the village still faces threats from monsters around it for a long time. The Knights of Self-Defense were established spontaneously - the strongest men must stand up and protect other villagers and crops from those crazy monsters!

However, the "Knights" are self-proclaimed, and the village of Dor does not have real knights.

Although Orwell was proud, after watching for a while, he slowly walked into the open space and began to correct the postures of some villagers, and occasionally gave a few concise and concise guidance. The members of the self-defense team who received guidance would show a look of gratitude and practice harder.

After giving guidance to the adults, Orwell's eyes began to turn to the children.

"You, stop." Orwell frowned and stopped a stronger boy who was holding a giant axe bigger than himself, wielding around in circles and swinging, almost whirlwind on the ground! The other boys were already scared and dodging far away.

I have to say that for boys of this age, it is already very good to be able to do this.

It is not an exaggeration to say that it is born with divine power.

"Hu...Hu..." The boy stopped slowly, gasped, looked up at Orwell with hope, as if waiting for the praise of the warrior.

Who knows.

"Choose a weapon, not the bigger the better!" Orwell did not praise it, but looked serious. "The Tornado Slash is indeed a very useful axe warrior skill, but your axe is heavier than you! Didn't you notice that when you were spinning just now, the axe was always in the inner circle, but you were thrown into the outer circle. It's better to say that it's the giant axe waving you instead!... Or, are you trying to try which one is harder, your bones or monsters?"

After Orwell finished speaking, there was a silence.

Immediately afterwards, a burst of laughter suddenly came from the boys around him!

"Ha ha ha ha……"

"I'm so laughing. Lord Orwell actually said that it was the axe that was waving Hans..."

"I can't do it anymore. I'm going to suffocate my laughter. Save me..."

The strong boy also stood there stiffly, his face changing with a flushing change.

"Why are you laughing?" Orwell suddenly glared, and a fierce and terrifying aura burst out from his body, which scared the boys all! Then he heard Orwell scolding one after another:

"Do you think you're fine? Are you embarrassed to laugh?"

"You, the posture of holding the sword is very wrong! Move your hand down a little! Climb your thumb tightly!"

"You are not standing right! Your feet are apart and are as wide as your shoulders!"

"And you, don't think you are using a bow and arrow and I can't see the problem. Stand up your arms! Lift up a little! Do you think you are playing a slingshot?"

Orwell yelled over one by one.

Every rebuked child is silent and dares not disobey at all, and does what he should do.

"And you, you were laughing at me just now. Don't think I didn't see it..." Orwell quickly looked at the last brown-haired boy, "Why did you still hold a shield when you were practicing sword? I wonder if it will affect the center of gravity? I threw the shield to me!"

Unexpectedly, the boy shook his head!

This surprised Orwell.

"I need this shield." The boy whispered, "it can protect me."

Orwell's brow frowned when the boy's retort.

"If you want to be a real warrior, you need courage, not timidity!" Orwell walked to the brown-haired boy, looking down at him like an iron tower, and said word by word, "A hundred years ago, the great warrior king chopped off the wings of the black dragon with his giant axe in his right hand, and pierced the black dragon's heart with the long sword in his left hand... The sword and axe are the real companions of the warrior, not a shield!"

The boy raised his head with great effort. He was covered by Orwell's huge shadow, but he still grabbed the small wooden shield tightly and shook his head stubbornly.

"Child, tell me what your name is!" Orwell roared.

"Dalen Boole." The boy whispered.

"Okay, then let me tell you, Daren Bull," Orwell said angrily, "You don't have the talent of a warrior at all, and your mentality is destined to be a real warrior in this life! Just hold your shield tightly and be honest in this small village as an ordinary self-defense regiment member. Of course, in this boring low-level battle, perhaps the shield can indeed save your life!"

Of course, the momentum of an intermediate warrior is not something that an ordinary child can compete with.

The brown-haired boy, Dyron, shook his body twice, revealing a complex and lost look.

Then slowly, holding the wooden shield, retreated little by little, and finally turned around and ran away.

It was not until the boy's figure disappeared from the end of his sight that Orwell calmed his anger a little.

[Really, it seems that you shouldn't be angry with a child]

Orwell suddenly felt a little regretful.
Chapter completed!