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

Faced with the combined attack of the three, Tryndamere was in a state of irrationality, left only with the instinct to fight. He was not prepared for the attack from behind and was hit by the longsword multiple times, leaving many small wounds on his body.

"Haha, that's all there is to it. No matter how strong you are, you can't avoid getting hurt..."

Before they finished speaking, they clearly saw that Tryndamere's wounds quickly stopped bleeding and began to hiss with white smoke, healing at a speed visible to the naked eye!

"Monster..." The young people of the tribe no longer knew how to describe their feelings at this moment.

This guy in front of me was born to fight!

"Why are all the things related to me called monsters? You old man, you should really reflect on that," Ato, who was observing from the rooftop, complained.

"..." Aatrox was too lazy to argue.

Perhaps because of his injury, Tryndamere's madness intensified.

But he did not take any further action. Instead, he stood there and roared loudly, seemingly trying to suppress his anger in this way.

“Amazing.” Aatrox once again praised Tryndamere. “If he were in ancient Shurima, he might be qualified to undergo the Ascension ceremony and become one of us.”

With bloodshot eyes, Tryndamere forcefully suppressed the urge to harm others.

Suddenly, a long sword pierced through Tryndamere's body from the front. Tryndamere was stunned, and then his head drooped limply.

"Has this barbarian lost his mind? Has he become a screaming idiot? War Mother, look, this is the blood alliance you chose. I still don't think he's qualified."

Taking advantage of Tryndamere's focus on suppressing his anger, a young tribal member ambushed him.

“You…” Ashe was now furious.

Why do the young people, who are usually the backbone of the tribe, lose their minds when it comes to blood alliances? Why are they even capable of such despicable acts as sneak attacks?

There's no time to hold them accountable; the most urgent thing now is to treat Tryndamere's injuries!

Just as Ashe was about to have the priests come to treat her, Tryndamere, who had been keeping his head down, reached out his left hand and grabbed the hand of the young tribal man holding the knife.

The young man was startled and tried to break free, but the force from his hand made it futile no matter how hard he struggled.

Tryndamere slowly raised his head, his expression ferocious, his teeth clenched, and an angry growl emanating from his throat.

He raised his broadsword high in his right hand and swung it down hard at the neck of the young man from the tribe!

"do not want!"

Tryndamere stopped moving abruptly, and the crimson in his eyes gradually faded.

The young tribal man was terrified, his lower body was soaked, and Tryndamere's greatsword was only centimeters away from his neck!

It was Ashe, the Mother of War, who spoke up to stop Tryndamere's killing spree.

She never expected that the words she blurted out unconsciously would actually stop Tryndamere from going insane.

Tryndamere's expression returned to normal, and he loosened his grip on her hands.

The young tribal man lost his support and knelt on the ground, his eyes unfocused; the experience he had just had clearly traumatized him greatly.

Tryndamere slowly pulled the long knife that was stuck in his body and casually threw it on the ground. His blood-soaked appearance made him look like a demon returning from hell, causing the onlookers to swallow hard.

He returned to Ashe's side, looking nothing like someone who was seriously injured.

Am I qualified to join the Blood Oath?

"Are we qualified to live under Avarosa's protection?"

After a brief silence, none of the other young people in the tribe, including the villagers who were watching, jumped out to stop it.

She stepped forward, cupped Tryndamere's blood-stained face in her hands, looked into his eyes, and solemnly said, "I, Ashe, the successor of Avaros, hereby formally pledge my blood oath to Tryndamere, accepting everything about him and understanding all that he has to offer. Together we will face the challenges of the future and restore the glory of Avaros!"

Tryndamere was somewhat stunned, and subconsciously asked, "Isn't it necessary to have a priest as a witness?"

Aisha shook her head: "No need, because I am the War Mother."

Tryndamere then realized what was happening, knelt on one knee, and said in an equally solemn tone: "I, Tryndamere, a warrior of the Wild Wolves, am willing to become the blood ally of Warm Mother Ashe. I am willing to dedicate everything to you, I am willing to give my all. We will face the challenges of the future together and restore the glory of Avaros!"

“Let’s go back to our tribe; the rest of the procedures will be completed in the village.”

Ashe helped Tryndamere up, and together with Tryndamere's people, the ordinary villagers who had gathered, and the still-shaken young men of the tribe, they returned to the village established by the Avarosan.

“Do you know what I’m thinking right now?” Athos asked Aatrox.

"It's definitely some nonsense." Aatrox didn't even bother to guess.

"I'm thinking now, a minotaur can never compare to a single hair on a pure love warrior's head!" This was the only thought that audience member Atto had after watching the whole thing.

"...Where to next?" Aatrox ignored Aatrox's sarcastic remark.

"Aside from that World Rune, there's nothing noteworthy about Freljord. The Abyss's seal on the Void can hold for a while longer and won't be broken for several years."

"Winter is here now, and when spring comes, that crucial war will begin. We'll go see two more people and then we'll leave."

In the winter of 983 AD, Ashe and Tryndamere formed a blood alliance.

……

Where exactly is Ornn?

Ato wailed amidst the monotonous scenery.

He trekked through the snow and ice for more than ten days, seeing nothing but snow and not even a trace of the demigod Orn.

He said he needed to see two more people: Lissandra, the only one of the three Ice Sisters to have survived to this day, and Ornn, one of the original three demigods of Freljord.

Ator made a decision that went against his ancestors' wishes: to ask Ornn to forge a scabbard for the Darkin Blade!

He didn't want the Darkin Blade's terrifying appearance to cause problems when interacting with other heroes again.

In appearance, the Darkin Sword is very different from a regular greatsword. It has three symmetrical spikes above the hilt, and the head of the greatsword is similar to the demon horns on the head of Aatrox's Darkin body.

But Ato believed that Orn had a way.

"Could it be that I always encounter situations where the game hero's constitution fails? Impossible, absolutely impossible!"

Ato wandered aimlessly through the snow and finally discovered a clue to Orn.

"I knew it! How could someone with a constitution that allows them to run into heroes while just strolling around possibly have any problems?"

At the foot of the mountain ahead, a shovel, over ten meters long, was stuck upright in the ground.