Blade Dance

The morning air is moist and fresh, with the fragrance of flowers and plants.The street was filled with a layer of mist, and the shops facing the street opened one after another.

For more than three months after the Allied Defense Army returned from Zangarmarsh, the atmosphere in Shattrath City was very peaceful, and nothing major happened.Since the day when the Burning Legion poured into Outland from the Dark Portal, all kinds of changes, advances and retreats, successes and failures, life and death, parting and reunion, until life returns to the original track, many days have passed.

After the Battle of Morg, the fortifications of Shattrath City accelerated.Orson's team had participated in the construction of the arrow tower, and it took more than ten days to complete the construction with concerted efforts.Today, under the urging of the commander day and night, most of the fortifications have been completed.And the legion has been quiet since the last small-scale battle, and it seems that it has completely died down.

Orson hadn't seen Harlan for a long time.

"Meet" refers to the intersection of face-to-face, at least a few words can be said.He could only watch Harlan from a distance, whether it was on the construction site, or the training ground and shooting range.Other than that, the commander rarely came to the central city.The command center in Aldo Heights is not accessible to anyone, and Orson has not even heard that Joanna has been there.

He hadn't seen the Demon Hunter either.Some people said that he left after returning with the coalition forces in the early morning of the day when Morg was killed, and returned to the Illidari where he belonged. Some people said that he did not come back at all. In the old house.

The bellows were pulled, and the flames in the furnace danced wildly.The scorching hot air rushed in, leaving a layer of dampness on the skin.The roar of burning flames, the sound of hammering iron, and the sound of grinding wheels grinding swords mixed together, filling the entire room, isolating the weapon shop from the street outside.

"It's a fine sword."

The weapon master carefully looked at the long sword in his hand, looking over and over again as if fascinated.The long sword has considerable weight and looks bold and unrestrained.The blade is forged from real steel ingots.On both sides of the main blade, starting from the hilt, the two secondary blades are in the shape of serrated fangs, attached to the main blade and extending to a quarter of the entire sword, and the end is slightly rolled outward.The spotless sword blade exuded an awe-inspiring meaning, without any fishy smell, as if it had just come out of the oven.At this moment, the firelight on the side was reflected on it, and the golden light jumped and danced, as if it had been given life.

The weapon master traced the blade with his eyes, slowly moved down from the tip, and stopped in the middle of the blade.The weapon, which seems to have never been in battle, has a small gap in the middle of the left side.

He stared at the small opening and felt a chill.

"Can it be fixed, please?"

The weapon master withdrew his gaze and looked up at the young man beside him.The hunter's dark eyes stared straight at him with a pleading that one couldn't bear to ignore.Weapon masters are familiar with the weapons used by various professions.Rogues are accustomed to using daggers, but can also use one-handed swords.Warriors prefer two-handed swords, while others prefer axes and hammers.Although hunters can wear swords in addition to carrying bows and arrows for close combat, carrying an extra weapon will inevitably hinder movement.Even with swords, they will only use light and short swords, and few people will choose long swords of such weight.

However, the matter has nothing to do with him, and he should not ask too much, so he discussed the matter: "It will be difficult, but I can give it a try."

"Don't force it. If it doesn't work, just sharpen the blade."

The weapon master cast a puzzled look at the young man, but quickly withdrew his gaze and looked at the long sword in his hand again.

"Okay. When do you need it?"

"The sooner the better."

"Okay, then please come and get it after noon tomorrow." He said and put the long sword on the anvil, and turned to look after the burning hearth.

"Orson?"

Megan Hilde stood at the door, looking surprised.

"You are indeed here. They said you went to the weapon shop early in the morning." She glanced around, "What are you doing here?"

Orson didn't answer, but turned around and walked over, standing in front of Meganhild.He looked down into her eyes, expecting to look back in return.Meghan, however, looked over his shoulder to the anvil behind him.

The warlock stared at the long sword with a puzzled expression.She withdrew her gaze and looked at Orson.

"'Muramasa'?"

"Yes."

Orson replied without hesitation.

"Isn't that Mr. Restalan's sword? Why is it here?"

Megan Hilde's eyes became more and more puzzled.There was no expression on Orson's face.

"I picked up the sword that day before the evacuation and have kept it ever since," he said.

Megan's thoughts were brought back by his words to the fierce battle in Hellfire Citadel a few months ago.They were separated in the chaos of the battle, and she wasn't with Orson when the coalition retreated, and it took some time to find him even after returning to Falcon Watch.

Had she been there, perhaps Orson wouldn't have been haunted by the death of his former commander.

She quickly collected her thoughts and stared at Orson.

"Shouldn't it be returned to Mr. Restalan's family? I remember he has a son who was exempted from enlisting because of his father's status, and now lives in the central city."

Orson cleared his throat, then smiled apologetically.

"A lot of things happened after Hellfire Peninsula came back, and I forgot about returning the sword for a while." He showed a self-blaming expression, "I didn't remember it until I found it when I was sorting out the team's arsenal a few days ago." Who should this sword belong to?"

He paused, and then said: "I am indeed planning to return it to Mr. Restalan's son. I remember his name is Maureen Restalan? But I want to restore the sword as much as possible before then .At any rate, I picked it up, and it can be counted as a tribute to the deceased."

Megan Hilde nodded thoughtfully.

"What do you find me for?"

"Ah, fighting arena."

She seemed to have remembered something very joyful, and an excited smile bloomed on her face.

"The fighting competition is coming soon."

Orson also laughed: "If I remember correctly, there are still two weeks left? Are you eager to try?"

"It doesn't matter if it's the game itself. I like the bonfire dance and fireworks afterward." Megan Hilde raised the corners of her mouth.

Fighting competitions evolved from the historic fighting clubs in the main cities of Azeroth.Although Shattrath City also has a fighting club, people who want to try their boxing skills can go there at any time on weekdays, but people look forward to the annual city-wide fighting competition.The competition is co-hosted by the religious and military leaders of the main city, and people with top skills in various fields are invited to participate in the open competition.The person standing last wins a big prize.After that, there is a celebration and a bonfire dance.

"I came to you to ask if you would attend," Meghanhild said.

Orson seemed lost in thought.His eyes turned away from her face, and then wandered here and there.The street behind her, the doorframe of the weapon shop, the ground beneath her feet, the wand in her hand, the clothes on her body, until finally looking into her eyes again.

"I'm not interested in the competition and the subsequent activities. I'll be a bystander at most." He smiled helplessly, "But my father may ask me to go."

Megan Hilde smiled gloatingly.

"I will cheer for you. By the way, I might see Harlan that day."

She withdrew her smile.Orson narrowed his eyes.

"I……"

"I mean closer to him, 'see'. Maybe not when the game is on, but after that, the celebration and the bonfire, I think he will stay a little longer."

Orson licked his lips and lowered his eyes to the ground.

"It's been so long." Megan Hilde leaned closer to him, as if trying to catch his gaze, "It's unlikely that he came to the central city to look for you on purpose, it would attract gossip. You don't want to go either Heights, then there is only a chance for a fighting competition."

Orson looked up.

"There is only a chance for a fighting competition..." he murmured.

"Yeah, this is the only one closest. Even if it's not for him, you should go for me, right?"

Megan Hilde hooked her lips.

Orson looked at her, then smiled.

"it is good."

He said, "I'm going. I'm definitely going."

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The sunset glow turns the distant sky into a sparkling pink gold, and the gorgeous colors gradually change to rose red, lavender, and finally endless dark blue over the city.The night sky above is revealed between the clouds.The lights in the city have not yet been turned on, and the streets are divided into blocks with clear edges and different sizes by light and shadow.The light was dim, and there were many people on the street, but the tavern ahead was already brightly lit.Through the window, you can see the bustling inside, almost full of people.

When Vincent came to this tavern for the second time, he paid special attention to its plaque before entering the door.The circular plaque has been weathered and the paint on it is chipped.It is difficult to read the content of the rough characters, crookedly engraved on the rusty metal.A rose inlaid with gold, with these words written on it.The brass rods on which it was hung were bent downward by the weight of time.The only thing that can stop the eye for a moment is a rose carved on the plaque, surrounded by words in the center.Although it has been worn beyond description, Vincent can see that it was once lifelike.

Loud voices came from inside the door.Vincent stared at the two doors, but did not go in for a long time.It was as if opening it would fill his ears with a torrent of noise.Excuse me, dinner time.He stood at the door and hesitated for a moment, then sighed helplessly, opened the door and walked in.

The bright light in the tavern was a bit harsh.He stood among the crowded tables and chairs, looking over the head of a man to search the entire tavern.He still remembers the first time he came here to pass the time.He was sitting at an ingeniously angled seat in the corner, from which he could see the windows of the second-floor room of the Commander's residence, which was the only place in the entire tavern where he could see.Every time he came after that—though not often—he tried to pick that spot.In addition, the remote corner location is also very suitable for the carefree bachelor.

The aroma of wine and food lingers on the tip of the nose.He squeezed between the people and the tables and chairs, and walked towards the place he liked the most, only to find that it had already been taken.A long black coat hangs down from both sides of the seat, and the hem almost touches the ground.

He quickened his pace and walked over.

"Hey, long time no see."

Harlan turned his head away.There was a sad expression on his face.He said to Vincent:

"you are late."

The author has something to say: See you next Monday