Motan sighed profusely, then walked towards the second metal pillar...
['Bull Demon' Cain•Snowhoof, Tauren, Weapon Master, Artist, Bard, Battle record: one thousand two hundred seventy-three wins, eleven draws, one loss]
This is a large Tauren who is holding a totem pole in his left hand and a trucheon in his right hand.
"Ah, I remember this guy well~" Resad chuckled: "Once he encountered a sorry-looking fellow of his kind, and that guy named Magasa actually tried to poison him before the match. Guess what happened?"
Motan pondered for a moment: "That guy probably didn't succeed."
"More than that~" Resad rolled his eyes: "He ended up getting beaten to a pulp, so much so that his own mother couldn't recognize him. When he left his home, he was so badly beaten by that old bull's son, Little Bain, that he was completely crippled. He was thrown onto a famous mountain at that time and left to fend for himself."
Motan asked subconsciously: "What mountain?"
