Monster Hunter from League of Legends

The day they set foot on Freljord soil, the entire Legion was plunged into a common nightmare. Each dream was the same, yet distinct. It was a despair born from a different perspective. Endless, indescribable creatures crawled from the icy abyss, like a cancer on the world, greedily and furiously devouring everything in sight, every living thing.

There was no glory to be found. Similar nightmares spread death and despair through the Legion like a plague. The horrific nightmares even made Carona afraid to sleep, as dozens of men had already lost their breath in their sleep. Whether they died of cold or fear, no one knew, but their final moments were equally horrifying. It was as if their souls had been forcibly ripped out, even their flesh and blood had turned a cold, blue-green.

Marching cautiously in the bitter cold during the day, sleepless at night. Even the most mentally resilient warriors would be awakened by fear after only ten minutes of rest. In just three days, the constant exhaustion and sleep deprivation destroyed the iron army that had terrified the entire Valoran continent.

If this is the case with the Trifari Legion, what about the other legions?

As far as Carona knew, as early as the second day, there were already small-scale mutinies and camp cries within many legions. Although General Darius successfully suppressed these cowards who were defeated by fear and fatigue, Carona knew that he could not hold out for much longer.

He had wanted to stay in the tent for a while longer, but the exhaustion from the long night had left him feeling increasingly confused. He couldn't sleep, so he could only prop himself up and walk numbly outside, hoping the cool breeze would wake him up.

But as soon as he walked out and looked at the sky in the distance, a hint of fear and despair appeared in his eyes.

Their camp was located at the foot of a mountain sheltered from the wind, so the freezing wind wouldn't directly affect the campfire. And now, on the mountain not far away, a raging blizzard, swirling with frost and snow, formed a storm, bearing down on the camp like a doomsday.

They wanted to escape, but there was nowhere to go. Thick black ice rose from the surrounding mountains, like a fanged mouth enveloping them.

"Ready to fight!!!"

A resounding voice came from the central army tent. Although the voice was still calm and powerful, turning his head, Carona could clearly see that General Darius's eyes were also filled with bloodshot from the pain.

But even so, when he saw General Darius, Carona still felt an inexplicable power burning in his heart.

This strength came not only from the trust in General Darius, but more importantly, it was finally possible to end it all—even if it meant death.

Unfortunately, the morale Darius had forced upon him didn't last long. Soon, Carona saw the Friarjord barbarian, nearly naked from the waist up, covered in war marks, holding an ice blade, his eyes filled with madness and cruelty, in the blizzard, a wind so cold it could freeze even the smallest genitals.

Perhaps it was the echo of the surrounding dark ice? A brutal voice drowned out Darius's words, instantly spreading across the entire icy plain.

"The Freljord has only one chance to rise again! We have no choice! Let the war begin!"

Riding atop a galloping frosthorn, Faan's figure practically merged with the blizzard. Carrying a longsword, his dragonlike pupils were filled with the fiery passion of the hunt.

"From the skies of Rakstak to the edges of the Freljord, let the blood boil and let glory bear witness! In the name of the High Warmaster! Even if I shed my last drop of blood, I will see the Freljord great again!"

"If anyone wishes to destroy this grandeur, let the Freljord burn!!"

133

Chapter 133 A tiger among the flock of sheep.

Accompanied by rumbling sounds, mountains collapsed, and storms swept up avalanches to form waves of ice, which emerged in the vast and silent tsunami. More than 300 Ice Warriors who had completed the implantation of the Mad Dragon gene seeds and broke through the limit let out violent war roars.

"For the Three Ice Sisters!!"

"fighting!"

Darius's eyes widened as he clenched the icy battle axe in his hand and killed a soldier who had mentally collapsed and was fleeing backwards. He roared, "I will not tolerate cowardice!"

"fighting!!!"

Carona also roared in battle. He donned his armor and raised his battle axe. The icy air made the black steel feel especially cold. This invigorated Carona, but also made him more aware of his own fatigue. If death was the end, then now was his only chance!

As a shieldbreaker, he instinctively began to run. Just like he had on the battlefield before, he mercilessly destroyed, penetrated, and shattered everything that stood in his way! Whether it was a wall, a soldier, or even a warhorse!

He swung the battle axe with great force, and he seemed to have seen the frost-horned beast, which looked like a mountain goat and a yak but was covered with frost, being split in half by him.

But the next moment, accompanied by a shattering sound, the battle axe in his hand shattered directly - Steel Brittleness, a spell card from the Freljord faction in Lor. Effect: For this round, reduce the attack power of a unit with less than 3 health points to 0. In the game, this is a spell card, but in reality, it is the norm in the Freljord!

The battle axe broke into pieces, and the charging frosthorn also raised its head towards Carona. The sharp frost horns collided with the heavy black steel armor. It was thought that there would be a dull sound, but the black steel armor had long been fragile under the erosion of long-term low temperature and ice magic. It felt like a paper potato chip. With a crisp sound, it was directly pierced and thrown away!

Holding two hammers, Ashe's biological father, Ilu, had a red light in his eyes. As the first Iceborn warrior to receive the Mad Dragon Factor enhancement and thus break through the limit, Ilu's application of the Mad Dragon Factor was far superior to other Iceborn.

Sitting astride the frosthorn's broad back, legs clamped together, the hammer held high in both hands. With a surge of cold light, the True Ice on the hammer condensed the icy atmosphere surrounding it, like a dazzling new star.

"Don't let down the blood of Warmaster Faan!!!"

The war hammer was swung, and the cold air exploded. The flying ice was filled with a strong impact. Before the Trifari soldiers even got close to Ilu's body, the cold wind blew them away and froze them to pieces!

Trifarion—No, it should be said that the population of Noxus is much larger than that of the Freljord. Much larger. Because under the Noxian ideals, many people eager to make achievements and establish themselves have joined from Valoran, Shurima, and even the Ionian Islands.

But numbers often mean nothing. Especially in a situation like this, where the arduous march has worn down morale, the relentless nightmares have prevented them from getting adequate rest, the frigid air constantly robs them of precious body heat, and the pervasive icy magic of the low temperatures exacerbates the inherent weakness of black steel, which becomes brittle when exposed to cold. Even though they wear armor, is it truly for protection? The moment it shatters, the shattered metal will simply pierce the body, piercing internal organs!

The battle formation of over 300 Iceborn was like a sharp knife, easily cutting through a legion hundreds of times larger than their own!

At the forefront, Faan didn't even need to swing his sword; he simply held it casually at his sides, and the galloping frosthorns mowed down the surrounding soldiers like wheat. And directly ahead, the weapons and armor brittled by the cold wind were ineffective in causing any damage or protection!

Its weight is four times that of an ordinary warhorse, but its speed is much faster than that of a warhorse.

The galloping frosthorns were more like semi-trailers with full damage. Even if Trifari used all his elite means, even trying to trip the frosthorns' front legs with thick iron chains, the end result was still that the frosthorns dragged them all the way with the chains, until they let go of the canes either because of pain or exhaustion, and fell to the ice and snow with their broken bodies, and the cold wind took away their body heat.

"Come and see the true courage!!"

A voice called from afar, and Faan looked in the direction of the voice. It was none other than Darius, clad in black steel armor, his eyes filled with madness and determination.

He held a battle axe, his blood surging from his body, the surging blood energy making the coldness of the environment unable to approach. The steaming momentum made his scarlet cloak flutter freely in the snow, like a ball of burning blood.

Looking into Faan's eyes, the madness in his eyes was as if the one who was attacking was not Faan and the others, but Darius alone.

As he took a step forward, his massive frame unleashed a force far superior to that of an ordinary man. The shoulder armor alone, three fingers thick, produced a continuous clang of impact as he ran. As he drew closer, the pitch-black battle axe in his hand shone with a flash of blood, and then, without hesitation, he leaped forward and struck Faan from a distance.

"Fight to the death!"

The scarlet cloak left a striking trail in the air, and the swinging battle axe cast a dull arc of light in the cold wind. The battle axe slashed down, but Faan's eyes showed no trace of fear. Instead, he faced Darius with a slightly sinister smile.

With a single slash, the heavy blow landed on the axe blade. Darius's eyes flashed with excitement, for with this axe, forged through countless trials and tribulations, he felt confident he could cut through steel. But the moment the axe blades made contact, the excitement in Darius's eyes dissipated, replaced by a look of pressure.

An indescribable force came over him. Even though Darius tried his best to resist and hold on tightly, the pair of broad arms were still uncontrollably pulled to the side.

The next moment, the sharp blade was pulled back. Hanging in the air, with nowhere to gain leverage, his aching wrist had no time to retract the axe for defense.

He thought he would be cut in half right then and there, but before Darius could prepare for death, the broad blade came like an iron whip, whipping his burly body in plate armor like a cannonball, turning it into a shadow and flying out.

It made a dull thud as it landed on a distant tent. Feeling the severe pain in his wrist and abdomen, Darius raised his head and spat out a mouthful of blood, gritting his teeth and crawling up from the ground. But just as he raised his head, he saw the black cleaver used by generations of Noxian hands falling in front of him.

If he only moved forward a few more centimeters, he would be able to split his head open.

134

Chapter 134: Ice Girl’s team battle.

Throwing the battle axe at Darius, Faan simply glanced at the top quality inspector before turning his attention away from him. Instead, he paused, looking around and signaling the surrounding Iceborn to remain where they were.

After struggling to stand, Darius unhesitatingly grabbed the battle axe in front of him. His reddened eyes glared at Faan. Even though his body was stiff and aching, Darius still stubbornly took a step forward, sprinting towards Faan's direction. Even knowing that only death awaited him did not stop him.

Perhaps noticing Darius's resolute resolve, a brief silence fell on the once one-sided battlefield. Almost everyone's attention was focused on Darius. They knew that if Darius, as their leader, died, the war would be over...

Maybe we can survive?

It's no wonder these elite soldiers thought so. Three days of arduous marches and sleep deprivation had completely shattered their once high spirits. But not all of the soldiers were broken. Veterans of the Legion, who had fought Darius time and again, roared in anger and followed their general towards Faan and his men, who were stationed in the center of the legion.

Cavalry, as it were, could only unleash their greatest destructive power when galloping. Now, their presence in the center of the legion was like a horse stuck in a quagmire. If we could seize this opportunity, we could surely turn defeat into victory! This war would surely be won!

But even if they won here, what would it matter? The Freljord was so vast, and they weren't the only ones...

However, they are now unable to think and can only follow the last instinct deep in their hearts to make a choice.

Looking at Darius and other elite Trifarii who were rushing towards him again, Fane just looked around casually.

This made Darius feel even more angry. But then, almost the next moment, Darius felt a restraint under his feet.

Looking down, I saw a pair of hands, a pair of blue-green, temperatureless, cold hands of a corpse.

Not just one, but they emerge one after another continuously.

Those who were knocked away by frosthorns, chopped off by long swords, and buried by ice and snow... the bodies of familiar comrades one after another kept twitching and struggling on the frozen ground. In the end, all the heat was absorbed by the cold and hard ice, and they turned into lifeless blue-green corpses crawling up from the ground.

Without consciousness, or even souls, these corpses moved with incredible stiffness and slowness. Yet, even when cut in half by sharp blades, they still struggled to crawl towards Darius, their frozen intestines tugging at their sides.

"Get away!!!"

Darius gritted his teeth and growled, then slashed down with his battle axe, shattering it mercilessly. But the next moment—bang!!!

The corpses exploded, and a thick chill spread outward. At the center of the explosion, Darius was sent flying backward, rolling several meters on the ground. His bloody aura steamed, constantly dispelling the chill that was bearing down on him. But this chill wasn't the insignificant cold wind from before, but rather frost magic exploding from the transformed corpses.

There was only the sound of ice spreading and the air freezing. Darius' body was covered with a layer of solid ice. His tough armor became extremely fragile in an instant, and mixed with the ice, it continued to deprive him of his already limited physical strength and will.

Darius gritted his teeth, knowing this was his fate; he must die here. Only then could the bleeding scar heal prematurely, and the Empire's misjudgment of the northern border be corrected in a timely manner. But he barely managed to stand up, and before he could take the first step, he felt another familiar sensation.

One by one, more and more corpses rose from the ground. They were devoid of warmth and soul, their skin and eyes a frightening icy blue.

However, this time, the corpses did not explode directly. Instead, they fell on him layer by layer, like an ice cage that trapped him in place.

Compared to Darius, the others might not be so lucky. Those who attempted to end the battle by killing Faan were transformed into humanoid ice sculptures before they could even touch him, swept by the chilling wind from the corpse explosion. Gradually, the battlefield fell silent.

But people didn't dare to move. They could only stand where they were, staring in horror at their comrades who were clearly dead but were now standing up again.

Corpses, one after another, were like nails stuck in every corner of the battlefield. These once familiar comrades had become symbols of death. A single careless move would cause them to explode into a cloud of icy mist, transforming those around them into similar ice bombs.

This is how the screaming woman fights in a team: if one person dies suddenly, the whole family will be killed.

At Faan's side, a dark icy aura rose from the ground. Emerging from it, Lissandra looked around—Faan didn't know if this blind little man could see, but in the end, Lissandra managed to lock her magical perception on Faan.

"Did you find the person you were looking for?"

Lissandra's vision stems from the dream perception granted by her icy magic and the void. This is generally useful, but in some ways it's far inferior to Faan's perception. This is because Faan's perception, unlike magic, is based on pheromone-based biological signals. Without a plan, this is difficult to prevent, as one cannot always override their instincts.

"There are some clues, but it shouldn't be the real body."

"kill me!!"

While Faan was still communicating with Lissandra, Darius's resolute voice came from the side.

Looking in the direction of the voice, Darius was trapped in place by the cold corpses and could not move. He was still staring at the figures of Faan and Lissandra.

"I am the commander of this legion! Kill me! You will win! The war will end!!"

Hearing this, Faan stroked his chin, then dismounted and walked towards Darius. Lissandra didn't say much, for she recognized the man lying on the ground—the only one in the legion who could resist his nightmare and never give up.

"Are you interested in this man?"

"It's not bad. After all, it's the Hand of Noxus, so it still has some value."

Coming to Darius, Fain glanced at Darius with a relaxed expression and said:

"But I beg to differ when you say you are the commander of this legion...Are you right, Leblanc?"

135

Chapter 135: Leblanc takes the bait.

LeBlanc didn't respond, and Faan remained unfazed, instead continuing to gaze at Darius. Was Darius formidable? He was certainly formidable. Faan perceived that even Garen, at his current stage, was no match for Darius in terms of physical prowess. While Darius's weapons appeared to be made of ordinary black steel, the name "Hand of Noxus" embodied many of Noxian ideals.

As role models for all Noxian warriors, the Hands of Noxus throughout history are revered by all. This is especially true of Sion, the Hand of Noxus from a century ago. He loathed retreat and chose to rise against the tide, charging through a vast army to reach Jarvan I. He braved the swords and slashes of the King's Guard, holding on until he strangled the King to death before allowing death to take him.

Since then, this armor and axe, wielded by Noxus, have become a symbol. They also imbue extraordinary spiritual power. Unlike True Ice weapons, which harness the cold, the Black Cleaver's ability transforms rage and fighting spirit into blood and vitality. For a warrior, nothing offers a more tangible effect than this.

"There's no Leblanc, I'm the boss here! Come on! Kill me!!"

Darius said angrily: "You who have rushed to glory and death, are you still going to insult me ​​like this?!"

"...You still think highly of yourself."

LeBlanc held back her response, and Faan was happy to chat with Darius.

He stretched out his hand and clenched it slightly. Seeing this, Lissandra beside him also nodded, and then the howling cold wind gradually subsided, and everything returned to the previous sunny and peaceful weather.

"To die in battle like this? Why? Are you afraid this place will become a bleeding wound for Noxus?"

Faan spoke casually, completely ignoring the despair in Darius's eyes:

"Don't worry. We in Freljord are indeed very poor. This vast icy plain means that every man and woman has been tested by this land since birth. Although we have a long history, our productivity is indeed very low. Now that the Freljord Empire has been initially established, I still hope to exchange your fermented bean curd for future rice, flour, grain, and oil."

After hearing Faan's words, the surrounding soldiers remained silent, but instead exchanged glances. The originally tense atmosphere unexpectedly eased somewhat.

Because Fan said he wanted to exchange them for rice, flour, grain, oil and other supplies, which meant that they would be safe at least for a short period of time.

Knowing they could survive, their courage was instantly washed away. Why were wars in the feudal era often fought on three sides, with one side vulnerable? Because knowing they would die, men often unleashed a powerful fighting force. Burning their boats and crossing the river, the desperate army will surely triumph.

Now that he had survived, the last bit of his courage had vanished. Darius could clearly sense this, and he couldn't help but purse his lips.

And for Faan, defeating Darius... was nothing to be proud of.

In the original novel, Darius did try to attack the Freljord. But what was the result? Sejuani alone easily defeated Darius without Ashe or Lissandra even having to intervene.

In Lor, there are many magics in Freljord, and among them, steel becomes brittle, ice cracks, falls into cold, breaks into pieces, and avalanches, which are all natural climates native to Freljord.

Among them, the card description of the card "Frostfall" is Sejuani's comment on the Noxians: "These warm-blooded people won't survive a day in the Freljord."

As the description of the seven-cost spell card Breath of Winter says, "The first and last opponent any invader of the Freljord will face will be the Warmother of Winter. Her oath is the relentless wind and biting frost."

In the Freljord, numbers are a lie; as many as come, so many die.