All-Class Anti-Mage - Chapter 50 - Escape

dy of an orc archer at Yang Zhen’s feet.

“Look, that’s Wuli’s elite archers team!”

With their shabby bows and beggar-like attire, and their pitiful archery skills that only managed to injure through sheer numbers, they have the audacity to call themselves ‘elite’? Yang Zhen disdainfully shook his head; his foggy brain could only focus on how to express contempt, having lost the ability to analyze the situation.

At that moment, he felt something wet on his half-numb hand. Looking down, he saw a fifth-tier magical beast, an ironback wolf, affectionately licking his right hand. Even with the nerve paralysis, Yang Zhen understood what was happening. He sighed softly, thinking, “Finally found the group,” before his consciousness faded out, overwhelmed by the neurotoxin.

In a hazy state, it felt as though he lay on the comfortable bed that Roland had prepared for him. The bed seemed to be gently rocking, making his body feel soft. Roland was half-squatting by the bedside in her elegant attire from that night, sucking on her fingers with her soft cherry-like lips.

Her cheeks were flushed with shyness, and her clear big eyes were filled with tenderness. While sucking on her fingers, Yang Zhen could even feel the warm breath flowing from her nostrils. Gradually, the girl’s gaze began to drift, and Yang Zhen’s heart raced in excitement as he asked tenderly,

“Lan’er, are you going to give it to me?”

“Who is Lan’er? What are you talking about giving you?”

But suddenly, Roland’s expression turned stiff, her mouth opening to reveal a buzzing man’s voice, frightening Yang Zhen into recoiling. Once he came to his senses, he realized he wasn’t on a bed; he was on a stretcher, and the one licking his fingers wasn’t Roland but the ironback wolf. As for who had asked him that question, he was all too clear.

“How long was I unconscious?” Yang Zhen looked around. Four green-skinned orcs were carrying him and Babala on a stretcher, while a group of orcs hurriedly made their way.

“About three minutes,” Babala said, counting on his fingers, then looked at Yang Zhen earnestly and asked, “You still haven’t told me, who is Lan’er? What is she going to give you?”

“N-nothing. Lan’er is my beloved. She said she was going to give me something wonderful, but I didn’t have time to get it when I left.” Yang Zhen stammered, which wasn’t entirely a lie; he really hadn’t gotten that something.

“Oh, what a pity.” Babala expressed his regret. Yang Zhen thought to himself, it really is a pity!

“Warrior! You woke up so quickly! No one has ever lasted that long under the ‘Kiss of the Fallen God.’ Not only did you endure, but you also took down Wuli’s elite archers team. You are truly the War God’s representative in the Firmament.”

It was the same orc leader who had blocked the Piercing Arrow, now approaching Yang Zhen’s stretcher with an idolizing look.

“What’s wrong with the Orcs? It seems like you’re fighting a civil war,” Yang Zhen immediately changed the subject, thinking that his survival was due to his teachers, and had nothing to do with the War God.

“Uh… let’s talk about that later when we get back. You should focus on recovering from your injuries first.” The orc fidgeted, reluctant to speak further, then quickly changed the subject again. “Warrior! My name is Pipi. May I know your name? I want to remember it forever. Leader Guli is too distant; I’ll see you as my idol and goal instead.”

It seems that it wasn’t just Yang Zhen who had a knack for changing topics; Pipi skillfully redirected the conversation back. Seeing the excitement in Pipi’s eyes, Yang Zhen felt he couldn’t ignore him. After hesitating for a moment, he replied, “My name is Yang Zhen.”

As he said his name, he turned to glance at Babala, but the barbarian showed no reaction. It appeared that Babala didn’t know who Yang Zhen was. If he had dared to mention Sean’s name, the barbarian might have thrown him off the stretcher and choked him while shouting, “Three meals a day!”

In fact, neither of them had suffered serious injuries. After Pipi dispelled the neurotoxin within Yang Zhen, he quickly regained his strength. Yang Zhen felt displeased and harbored resentment toward that “Wuli” character because he realized he had fought a battle without any impact-the sixth halo hadn’t reacted at all!

As for Babala, despite his bloody appearance looking quite intimidating, most of it was from the orcs who had ganged up on him. After all, the Blue Moon Legion was once the strongest human army capable of matching the Orcs in battle. A thousand years had passed, and although their combat abilities might have changed, they had only grown stronger.

The assessment that Babala’s swordsmanship was poor was only true for professional sword cultivators. For someone like Babala, a mainstay in the military, his swordsmanship didn’t need to be overly sharp or sophisticated; the key was to stick to the enemy like glue. Clearly, he had done a terrific job today; after swinging his weapon for a long time, he could only hear the sound of blades striking flesh, yet he hadn’t knocked down a single orc. The combat prowess of the orcs shouldn’t be underestimated; Babala was simply exhausted.

As Pipi’s jumpy questions continued, they finally arrived at the edge of an orc tribe, and Yang Zhen let out a quiet sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could withstand Pipi’s barrage of inquiries. For instance, when Pipi had asked him about his class, the conversation jumped to his height, weight, and measurements, then leaped to discussions about martial skills, and finally veered off to what Yang Zhen liked to eat and how much he could eat.

After hearing that Yang Zhen could only eat two drumsticks, Pipi mumbled softly that he could eat ten whole chickens. “Why am I not as strong as Yang Zhen then?” Pipi wondered aloud. It seemed, in the eyes of the orcs, that the amount one could eat was directly proportional to physical strength. It wasn’t hard to see why Pipi thought this way; one dragon was likely capable of consuming enough food in one meal to feed the entire tribe.

When Yang Zhen and Babala arrived at the orc tribe, they were met with an enthusiastic welcome, especially when the two warriors jumped off the stretcher. The orcs’ fervor increased even more when they learned that the two had defeated Wuli’s elite archers team. Words could hardly describe the enthusiasm that erupted among the orcs.

The excited orcs surged forward, lifting the two warriors high and carrying them into the tribe, probably more passionately than they had ever treated their own fathers. If they had known that one of the warriors was a member of the Blue Moon Legion, they couldn’t imagine how that would have changed the atmosphere.

Thankfully, Babala’s body was covered in half-dried blood, which obscured the style and badge of his armor from the orcs. Their enthusiasm for the two warriors remained undiminished, and they arranged for them to stay in the best accommodation the tribe had to offer-a cave.

That cave, however, wasn’t somewhere just anyone could stay. In Pipi’s words, it was reserved for those who had made contributions to the tribe. The two warriors were shown to this relatively dry cave, and two buckets of warm bath water were brought in as a reward for their merits.

So, did this mean that anyone who hadn’t accomplished anything would never get a chance to bathe for their entire lives? Yang Zhen sniffed the air and realized why he had noticed a unique sour smell as soon as they entered the tribe. This was definitely not a scent that resulted from spending too much time amongst the beasts. He understood now that this tribe had been stagnant for a long time, with almost no one having accomplished anything noteworthy.

After a refreshing bath, Yang Zhen changed into one of the outfits that Roland had prepared for him, which he kept in his space ring. He sighed in relief; it was nice to have someone caring for him. If it hadn’t been for Roland’s thoughtfulness, he would’ve had to put that dirty outfit back on again.

As he was lost in thought, Yang Zhen caught sight of Babala, who had just finished bathing and was washing his armor while sitting bare-bottomed in the tub. Yang Zhen was taken aback when he saw how the water instantly turned red from the blood remaining on the armor. He rushed over and grabbed Babala’s arm, whispering in alarm.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“What’s the big deal? The armor is too dirty, so Babala is washing it. What’s that got to do with my life?” Babala replied, looking confused.

Yang Zhen was at a loss for words. Was this barbarian genuinely oblivious or just pretending? He could understand if Babala truly didn’t know, considering that he had shown awareness of the composite scroll’s significance to the Blue Moon Legion while riding on Lulu’s back. But Acting naive? Didn’t he realize he was in an orc tribe?

“If you wash it clean and wear it, you’ll be worried those orcs won’t know you’re from the Blue Moon Legion?” Yang Zhen tapped Babala on the forehead.

“Oh… but if I don’t wear it, then Babala has nothing else to put on.” Babala looked genuinely troubled, his face turning bright red. It seemed he was aware of feeling bashful being naked!

Yang Zhen looked around but couldn’t find any underwear Babala had removed. He reached into the tub to fish out the armor, only to discover that the armor and the underwear were one piece. Take it off and you’re completely bare; put it on, and you’re fully dressed. No wonder the Blue Moon Legion had such powerful combat strength-they were particular about their clothing. But at least they could have separated the underwear!

Looking at Babala’s physique, Yang Zhen abandoned the idea of trying to get him to wear his clothes. Although Roland had prepared multiple sets for him, they wouldn’t fit Babala at all. Even if he possessed two subclasses, he didn’t have the skills to stitch something up for Babala.

He decided to step outside and ask an orc for a set of clothes. However, there was a small issue with Babala’s armor. No matter how much Yang Zhen insisted, Babala refused to place the armor into his space ring, claiming it was Lulu’s living space and that not even a piece of armor should occupy it. But he certainly couldn’t just leave the armor lying around. Reluctantly, Yang Zhen ended up putting it into his own space ring.

After a life-and-death battle followed by a relaxing hot bath, Yang Zhen felt a bit fatigued. He glanced around the rudimentary cave that the orcs referred to as the “VIP room.” It was quite empty, with just a massive stone platform and nothing else. They might as well make a pile of straw to lie on.

Babala, seemingly accustomed to outdoor living, jumped onto the stone platform, leaned against the rock wall, and closed his eyes. In less than half a minute, he was snoring. Yang Zhen shook his head and climbed onto the stone platform as well, but no matter what, he couldn’t fall asleep on the hard surface.

After tossing and turning, he finally lay down with his arms on the stone platform. Even in the darkness, his vision remained unaffected. To his surprise, he noticed shallow, almost invisible rune markings covering the stone platform. As he crawled closer to examine it, he found that the entire surface was covered with these runes. What was most astonishing was that even he, a runesmith master, couldn’t understand them!