"Hey, Butcher, have a cup of mellow sap." Ricas jumped in lightly from outside the fence, his mud cup full of but not spilled out at all.

Thanking my friend for his kindness, and then drinking the slightly bitter mellow drink, Butcher once again turned his eyes to the sky. The afterglow of the setting sun was projected on the skinned roof, and the unique red of Atast spread out, like the color of blood. Butcher looked at himself and touched it gently with his hands to make sure it was just the light of the sun. He recalled the bloody breakthrough battle of Kelmanga, which was the same red. That time it was not light, but blood, from warm to cold temperature, the smell of blood. But in Kelmanga, there was also the smell of iron and fire around him, and in Tyre's Gladiator Camp, there was only the smell of sand, wood and grass roots.

One of his head began to have a slight headache again, and the disadvantages of the psychic powers were caused. If Mike was here, he should be able to know how to deal with it and could provide him with treatment. Thinking of the druid who brought him to this desert world, Butcher patted Rikas on the shoulder: "How about it, have you heard of any news?"

"Well, I've connected online. He has an impression of Mike through his friend's friend and the temple tower construction site." Rikas sipped the sap of the mellow tree sap and enjoyed the scent flowing down his throat. "I'm wearing a collar that can't be untied around my neck, which is actually easy to recognize. I've told my friend about our news. When he contacts me, I'll probably receive a reply in three or four days."

"This is the best news I have heard." Butcher looked at the empty cup in his hand, then took the Ricas cup and drank it all over again. The Moore curled his lips. He was used to the constant occurrence of such things and would no longer be angry. After all, there is happiness only if there is comparison: when Butcher takes away other people's things, he will use his fists first and then the soles of his feet.

"I also heard good news that the two of us have become regular partners and directly participate in the elimination competition without having to waste our energy in the melee." Ricas pounded his chest with his fist, looking very excited.

But Butcher was still calm and serious, and hummed from his nose: "What's there to be happy about?"

"A fixed partner means that we two will not belong to the two teams, nor will we kill each other. Moreover, the risk of melee is very high. We two are so conspicuous, and we may be besieged. In short, this news means that our victory will become easier, and freedom is not far ahead, my brother!"

"I am not your brother, the Moor, but I am willing to give you a piece of advice like a brother." Butcher threw the cup in his hand and watched it disappear at the other end of the camp wall: "No freedom is not obtained through fighting with the enemy, no! Don't have fantasies, because no psychic power can give you freedom. Only through blood, through the torture of life and death, will freedom come."

Ricas' excitement was slightly reduced, but he shook his head and said that he did not believe it. "To be honest, Butcher, where did you get the knowledge from? Aren't we fighting? Are we fighting? Look at me, there is still the blood of the enemy in the cracks of my nails!"

"Are your enemies these slaves who are locked in cages every day? What hatred do they have with you?" Butcher punched Ricas' chest with his fist and asked, "Does the enslaved blood flow like you in their bodies? I tell you that I have asked the Lord for freedom, and I have prayed for freedom from the gods, but they have all been taken away. Then I killed and stepped on the blood to find freedom, but even so, I still failed to get what I wanted. How can you be sure that others will fulfill their agreement?"

Looking at Butcher's serious expression, Ricas finally put away his last smile. "What you said makes sense. In Atas, there is no agreed thing. It is really necessary to prepare for freedom. Butcher, if I meet you in the battle, I will do my best."

"I will let you win because you are more pitiful than me. You have never tasted freedom, even if it is false and short." Butcher watched the last sunset disappear, and the blood red faded from his body. He smacked his lips and said, "Forget it, let's not talk about it. Where did you come from just now? Take me to drink it."

"Okay, I'll take you there!" Ricas waved his hand and ran into the trainer of the slave camp after a few steps. This strong man with black skin has no longer dared to cause trouble for the two of them, let alone whip them. So the relationship between them is okay later. The black man hurried over and said, "Hey, Ricas, Master Tessian is looking for you, hurry up and go there."

"Do you know what to do with me?" Rikas first told Butcher's location of the sap drink, and then asked.

"I don't know, but it should be a good thing." The black man trainer said in a low voice: "I heard Dorowan say before that the Master of Taixi's has prepared a lot of food for you, and the beauty, you are blessed tonight. So I see the Master..."

"Submissive, well-behaved, grateful!" Ricas snorted and laughed: "I understand, I understand."

Following the trainer, Ricas soon found Tessian. The high-level templars were always dressed neatly and gracefully, with an expression of self-impulsion. The only time the Moors saw him throw away such a posture was when Mike hurt him. "Dear Master," Ricas said very respectfully. For permanent freedom, he thought that it should behave like this now, and that was the price. "What are your instructions for me?"

"That's right. I have a weapon merchant friend here. He admires you very much after seeing your wonderful performance during the fight."

Following the direction of Tessian's hand, Ricas saw a man with a bull's head. It was very strange, but it had nothing to do with him. Ricas knew the preferences of the slave owner and high-level templar warrior, so he quickly withdrew his gaze, crawled on the ground, and said in a more humble tone: "Master, it is my greatest wish to be able to please you by pleasing your guests."

"Well, to reward you, my friend is willing to give you a weapon. Metal weapons can make you perform better at the conference." Tessian said: "What are you best at using?"

"I'd better use a stick, and a spear can do it." Looking at Tesian's frowning brows, Rikas' heart was like lightning. There was no metal on the stick, and the spear's tip didn't use much steel. It seemed that the so-called "friend" had an average relationship with the master. "I can also use a long sword or a machete. My master, everything is followed by your order."

"Then use the long sword. I happen to have a good long sword." The Taurus suddenly interrupted.

Although Tessian didn't like anyone to interrupt, the sword was his choice. He quickly put away his unhappy expression and asked Rikas to come in: "How is your grip? Are your wrists flexible?"

"Yes, I keep training in order to win glory for you and never dare to relax."

"Very good, I will continue to maintain it in the future." Taixian raised his chin, stretched out his hand, and said, "Come on, let me see your arms."

He pulled Rikas' arm and looked over and over again, as if he was admiring the strong muscle lines of the Moors. Then, the high-level Templar said to the Tauren: "What do you think? Are you a good seedling to win?"

"Yes, this hand is very beautiful and will be very suitable for the long sword I gave you." The Taurus nodded.

Tesian grabbed Rikas' right hand and suddenly said, "You can't bring your own weapons in the game in the Grand Arena, but the prosthetics are not restricted."

His other hand was raised high, and the blade formed by his spiritual power shone brightly. Amid Rikas' screams, his hand raised and fell.
Chapter completed!