For Duke, it doesn't really matter who is the challenger on this team. If the Confederate Tribes are in their honeymoon phase, Duke doesn't even mind releasing water to the Tribe.

Now, it's the little guys' job to win, so why doesn't Duke send their blessings?

"Well done! As the boss of the alliance, Duke casually took out the best equipment from the storage space that he had never seen on the market.

The old Molten Heart-level equipment will only be used by Duke to give to excellent new professionals.

At least the equipment that Duke gave away was at least the Arkafon Treasury level.

The League of Heroes is so many, and the equipment is eliminated quickly.

In addition, each boss will not be refreshed after dying once.,So it's a one-time raid.,The amount of one time is ten times and eight times that of the original game.。

Hero regiments can easily be equipped with more.

Duke's promotion to demigod comes with a number of additional benefits: as a former Void Lord and a demigod who has mastered soul powers, he can now erase the soul bindings on the equipment that mortals take off.

To put it bluntly, it is very simple, that is, to erase the soul mark on the equipment. As long as it's not an artifact with a basic level of self-awareness or above, there's no equipment at all that can withstand Duke's soul attacks after leaving its owner.

This makes the equipment utilization rate of the alliance powerhouses higher.

Looking at the local tyrant-level treatment on the side of the alliance, and looking at those alliance warriors who are happy to fart, almost all the tribal professionals are envious, and they look pitiful.

The most painful thing is that at the beginning of the establishment of this gladiatorial arena, all Alliance and Horde soldiers were forced to leave the arena early, regardless of whether they won or lost.

The warriors of the alliance on the opposite side celebrated, and the tribe dominated by orcs was not to mention more aggrieved.

At this moment, King Sarufar stood up, jumped into the arena from the edge of the five-meter-high stand, and pulled the still dazed orc warrior Nahawk Steelbreaker up.

"Stand up! You always claim to be the heirs of the orc tradition. So what is your attitude towards the victors now!?huh?" King Sarufar asked, pointing to thousands of orcs, "Is this the attitude towards the victors?"

"But...... They're not orcs!" said someone in the orc pile weakly.

Old Sarufar waved his hand: "Ridiculous!"

He pointed to the handful of two-headed ogres in the audience: "See those ogres? Once upon a time, our ancestors were proud to kill an ogre alone, and a strong man who killed a Goron alone was a hero. Today—but they are in the midst of the tribe's troops, fighting side by side with our orcs like our brothers! Why are we even the original mortal enemies, not because we worship the strong?"

Lord Sarufar half-turned and pointed to the Alliance warriors who were looking at the orcs: "Since you claim to be brave orcs, then tell me - did these warriors cheat in the battle just now?"

Thousands of orcs fell silent.

The king suddenly burst out into a drum-like shout: "Orcs!

As if waking up from a dream, thousands of orcs stood up in unison and replied, "No?—— not—"

Another wake-up question: "Is their victory a glorious victory!?"

Thousands of orcs replied in unison again, "Yes—"

With all his strength, almost every drop of air in his lungs roared out, and at this moment, King Sarufar, as if he was possessed by the roaring master, was like thunder: "Then you all applaud and cheer for the victors! Otherwise, you are not worthy to call yourself martial orcs——"

After a full two seconds of stunned thought, a mountain of cheers erupted among the orcs.

"Yes, the victor deserves praise!"

"Well played! Your tactics are fantastic!"

"After I go back, I also want my little cub to practice tactical cooperation!"

The audience on the Alliance's side was stunned for half a second, and then shouted as if a storm was coming.

"Haha!

"If you want to fight side by side with us, you can't be strong!"

Amid cheers, the orc warriors walked towards the Alliance Warriors.

Nahawk lightly punched the armor in front of the chest of the Alliance warrior Sakagar: "Dude, you played beautifully just now, you are the main tank that really supports the team!"

"Your whirlwind slash is also beautiful. Sakagar smiled.

Before you know it, the atmosphere of the Union and the Horde is beginning to harmonize.

At this time, Duke stood up and raised his arms, and a voice containing faint divine power spread in all directions: "I, Duke Marcus, hereby propose - since in the next Icecrown Glacier War, our Alliance and the Horde will face the Lich King's terrifying undead army side by side, for the future of all the living, this Crusader Trial will be participated by the warriors of the Alliance and the Horde together." What do you think, Varok?"

Of course, King Sarufar promised, "Great! That's what the allies do!"

With a wave of his hand, dozens of things that radiated noble purple brilliance flew towards the tribal warriors under the support of strange small tornadoes.

"It's ......," the orc warrior Nahawk was a little stunned.

Duke's voice rang out again: "The victor deserves cheers, praise, and the best prizes. But the runner-up who put in the courage and sweat should also be praised. This is a slightly lower level of prize, so let's go as a prize for the runner-up. ”

If you want to form a team, if half of the regiment is more than one gear behind in equipment, it will not be possible to bring it at all. If the loser is given the same prize as the winner, the wine of victory will become bitter.

Duke's hand not only satisfies the glory of the winner, but also does not let the loser gain nothing, and the gap is too big to form a group.

Even Varok had to clap his hands and praise: "Beautiful!"

Milhouse's high-pitched dwarf voice sounded again: "Alright, please join the Alliance and the Horde Warriors in the field and face the greatest terrifying creatures from the ice and snow of Northrend!"

Almost as the words fell, a roar that seemed to come from an ancient wilderness resounded throughout the gladiatorial arena.

"Whew-"

In no particular order, the huge iron gate directly south opened, and a huge horse-like creature broke free from its restraints and rushed out again and again.

At first glance, he was a large centaur.

If you look closely, you will see that he is more than four stories tall, with gray-black fur and brown skin. There are two large tusks on the cheeks that look like curved ivory.

"That's right! He's a dangerous creature from the Bitter Cold, the Mammoth - Gomok the Impaler!"