First, take down the Sword Demon, then save Runeterra.

"All four of you, come at me together."

Tryndamere's gesture of putting his arm around Ashe's shoulder immediately enraged the four young tribesmen.

"How dare you touch the War Mother! You truly are a barbarian, utterly lacking in manners!"

"They want us to have four against one? That's incredibly arrogant!"

Tryndamere remained silent, quietly drawing the large cleaver from behind him.

The wounds inflicted on his body by Ato had healed completely, leaving no scars, and no one could tell anything was wrong.

Just as he was preparing to face his opponent, he suddenly felt an unprecedented surge of excitement.

He found it hard to describe in words; he only felt an overwhelming urge to fight, a strange rage rising within him, a desire to tear his opponent to shreds.

“It’s working,” Atto muttered to himself.

"Flesh magic granted him self-healing abilities, and coupled with his powerful physique, even if he encountered a bear-man, it would take at least a dozen of them to defeat him."

"But this will also affect his mind. If his anger keeps growing during the battle and he can't get out of it, he will become a complete madman."

“Unfortunately, he was just an ordinary human after all,” Aatrox finally found an opportunity to interject. “Otherwise, he would have been a formidable opponent.”

"It's about to begin. Let's see what we've accomplished. As long as the Avarosa tribe can grow strong, humanity will have one more powerful force to fight against our common enemy in the future."

Ashe, standing behind Tryndamere, no longer tried to stop Tryndamere from fighting with her subordinates.

Three years have passed since she left the "Claws of Winter" to become the Warmother and develop the Avarosa tribe.

In these three years, in addition to the original furnace masters, many strong young men have joined her ranks.

Her beauty and kindness have won the hearts of many, who hope to become one of Ashe's sworn brothers.

It's important to understand that most leaders seek blood alliances primarily for personal gain. They treat their blood allies as tools, and very few actually develop genuine feelings for them.

Therefore, once they encounter someone with whom they can develop feelings, even if it's one-sided, they are willing to become blood allies one after another.

But Ashe never chose anyone, which frustrated the young people in the tribe, who could only wait for an opportunity.

What if she comes to her senses someday? Blood oaths are essential for a tribe; she'll make a choice sooner or later.

Moreover, I've never seen a leader have only one blood alliance, so we all have a chance!

Ashe knew that many in the tribe shared this sentiment, and her reason for not choosing the Blood Pact was that she didn't want to become like her mother, Glenna!

Glenna's coldness, stubbornness, and ruthlessness stemmed from her profound influence on Sejuani, which ultimately led to Ashe and Sejuani parting ways.

Glenna's attitude towards the Blood Alliance was also very casual.

Before she died, there were five sworn brothers still alive, each of whom was Ashe's sworn father.

In Ash's memory, there were other sworn fathers who died at the hands of hostile forces while protecting the tribe when she was a child, and she couldn't count exactly how many sworn fathers there were.

Ash remembered how some of her sworn brothers fawned over her mother in order to elevate the status of their tribe.

The mother, however, didn't seem to care and accepted their hospitality.

Ashe hated the smug expressions on the faces of her oath-takers, and she hated even more her mother who treated them as mere tools.

Now Ashe has become the War Mother, and the men have become the objects of their flattery.

Every time Ashe saw their subtle hints, the images of her mother and oath father would naturally come to mind, and Ashe would feel nauseous.

The barbarian who suddenly appeared before her showed no desire for profit, only concern for the survival of his people. His robust appearance was unlike anything she had ever seen before, and she felt it was time.

"Did I ultimately choose the Blood Pact for personal gain?" Ashe wondered to herself. She was unwilling to admit that this was her mother's doing, all for the sake of the tribe's stability.

She believed Tryndamere could defeat all the young men in the tribe; this was Ashe's intuition.

"After accepting Tryndamere, I have a reason to get rid of other people's pursuit, because I already have a blood pact and will not consider the next one for the time being."

"His strength is such that he can enhance the tribe's power, and we won't have to worry too much about being attacked by wild beasts or other tribes."

"Moreover, although it is called a blood alliance, no one actually stipulates what the War Mother and her blood alliance must do. It is just a title. Yes, just a title."

Just as Ashe was struggling with her dilemma, the battle between Tryndamere and the young tribesmen had already begun.

The inexplicable anger made Tryndamere increasingly uncomfortable. His eyes turned somewhat cruel as he stared at his opponent charging towards him and raised his greatsword to meet him.

"when"!

In the close combat, the weapons made a crisp sound. In just one exchange, the young man from the tribe had his hand clenched and blood flowed out. He retreated one after another.

Before he could even be shocked, Tryndamere launched another attack. He barely managed to raise his weapon to parry, having to retreat several steps with each subsequent attack.

Tryndamere gripped the hilt of his sword with both hands, employing only one attack method: raising the sword and slashing downwards.

The young tribesmen were so focused on blocking the attacks that they didn't notice Tryndamere slashing at the same spot more than a dozen times!

"Crack"!

The tribal youth's longsword broke under the onslaught, and Tryndamere, now unhindered, mercilessly slashed down, leaving a deep, bone-revealing gash on the young man's body.

Blood splattered onto Tryndamere's body. The young tribesman's eyes widened in disbelief, seemingly unaware that he was severely injured and the vast gap between him and Tryndamere.

He collapsed to the ground, his wound so long and deep that the blood kept flowing, staining the snow beneath him crimson.

"Quickly, take him to the priest!" Ashe was the first to react, and then two villagers wearing fur coats ran out of the village.

They carried the severely injured young man from the tribe on a stretcher to the Frost Priest for emergency treatment.

Ashe never expected Tryndamere to be this powerful!

She wasn't worried about the young man's life; the Frost Priestess's magic would heal him.

"Is it alright now? He's qualified to be my blood sworn brother..."

Ashe decided to end the fight; she had achieved her desired effect: Tryndamere and the others would all become Avarosan. She did not want to see infighting among her own people.

"Kill this monster!"

The other three young tribesmen who came out with Ashe seemed to have been provoked by something, and they all pulled out their weapons and attacked Tryndamere!

Seeing this, Tryndamere, who was forcibly suppressing his anger, had his dark eyes instantly turn red. He raised his greatsword again, his expression ferocious.