Freljord, south of Nerzayag Village, at the northern foot of the Ironshark Mountains.
A small dispute has just begun surrounding the fragile farmland ecology.
"Every life has the right to live on the continent of Valoran, but after all, I have something to ask for... Troll, can you please go elsewhere to graze?"
Taking off his hood, the wandering mage calmly looked at the four ice-blue trolls more than ten meters away with a soft voice.
Hearing the threat from the wandering mage, the violent troll headed by him stopped digging his teeth. He first asked his companions to inform the clan leader, and then turned his head. Under the gaze of his jumping companions, he held up a huge wooden stick.
He threatened in rough Freljordian.
"Muggle! Bald purple man! Get away from our ranch!!! Otherwise, I'll eat you!!!"
"Kill, Muggle! Eat, purple sweet potato!"
"It's so awesome! It's awesome! It's awesome~"
Unable to suppress their violent nature, the three-headed trolls simply held a pre-war meeting and launched an attack during the negotiations.
After the warning, the troll still chose to attack, and Ryze decided to take action.
Raising his hands, the surging magic energy quickly became regularized under the constraints of the array, and quickly took shape at the feet of the three trolls like a rushing river. As for why it is not the sea...
Ryze doesn't want to turn this place into a valley abyss yet. Farming cannot be done in the abyss.
The scene of the two-meter-tall troll charging was quite scary, at least behind the wandering mage, the twelve panic-looking tribal warriors already had the urge to run away.
"Rune Confinement!!"
The surging magic power surged out crazily from the feet of the three trolls, and in the formation of strong light, three runic shackles that mortals could not break free were generated. They quickly extended along the troll's body, forcibly blocking all movements.
The troll waved the stick in a panic and stood there stupidly, feeling at a loss. He even lost control of his mouth and turned into three wooden men.
"They have lost the ability to move, and the rest is up to you."
After hesitating for a while, Ryze gave up the idea of directly using magic to kill the troll.
After all, this is a struggle for survival between the villagers of Nerzayag and the trolls. If it were not for the rune fragments under the land of Nerzayag, he would not have intervened in such a dispute.
Yes, but not necessary.
In addition to recovering the world runes, he didn't want to bear the burden of killing any more innocent people.
Even if all the killings are counted, he still has a share...
But the reason why people can continue to live in difficulties and keep looking for the reason to persevere when they are tired, isn't it written as "self-deception"?
Hardworking people are the richest, evil will be rewarded, and good people will be rewarded...
They are all just lies told to oneself.
"Thank you Master Mage for your help!!"
The voice of the tribal warrior brought Ryze back to his senses from his depressed mood and restored his previous calmness.
With the assistance of the wandering mage, the twelve tribal warriors confidently waved their spears and easily knocked the frightened troll to the ground. Within a few moments, it turned into a bloody gourd and completely died.
Sighing, when Ryze removed the magic, the three-headed trolls had been smashed into a sieve. Seeing the corpses fall, the tribal warriors quickly began to skillfully decompose the troll corpses, peeling off the skin and bones, pulling out the marrow, and searching for
Any part that can be used, which naturally includes edible fats and meat, and even smelly toes, until the bag on the body is full.
"Oh, I really don't want to suffer at all. I am worthy of being a Northlander..."
Finally understanding why the tribal warriors had to carry so many leather bags when fighting, Ryze shook his head, turned around, and looked at the lovely snowflakes flying in the sky with a wry smile.
"This is Freljord, a beautiful yet cruel place..."
Everyone waited patiently for the arrival of the next batch of trolls, until this troll group was exterminated, or they chose to escape.
It is about the struggle for survival of the ethnic group. Either you die or I die.
There is no compromise.
…
After learning that Demacia refused to send troops to support, Trivel had many surrender factions, although there were no resistance factions at the beginning.
Isaiah didn't want to get involved in the bad things happening to the adults in the village, and of course he wasn't qualified to get involved.
He is just a shepherd boy who befriends the beast ancestors.
Instead of thinking about whether he would be beheaded by the Noxians, he would rather chat more with his yordle friends and listen to the stories of Bandle City.
That was the fairy tale life he dreamed of.
While the adults were having a heated argument, in a secluded place at the foot of the Shuoyin Mountain Range, three beings of different races were also having a heated conversation.
"GuluGulu~"
Skaar stared at the two of them with wide eyes, stuck out his tongue, and tried his best to pour out his valuable opinions.
"I've said it several times, we are Bandle people... Oh, no, it's Yodel people! Bandle City! You stupid bipedal creature! You confused me too!"
Kled jumped up angrily, swinging the ax in his hand, but Isaiah laughed.
"Mr. Kled, whether it's Yodel or Bandel, aren't they all Del? What's the difference?"
"Ahhh!! What's the difference!? You actually told me what's the difference? Bandel is a city, Yodel is a person? It's a person! Do you understand, you idiot?"
"Oh, I understand, Yodel is not a human, right? Sure enough, Yodel is a city. Mr. Kled, where is Yodel?"
"Yeah, yeah, you're going to make me mad! Can I chop you?"
"Gulugulu~huhu~"
After circling the two men twice, the excited dragon lizard Skaar joined the battle with great interest and licked Isaiah's cheek with his tongue, making the boy smile happily.
As for Isaiah, he didn't really enjoy this meaningless argument. As for why he deliberately said he was a Bandel, he just wanted to change the topic.
Because every time Kled came up, he would ask him whether the Noxians were here, and whether they could fight, etc., and he almost went to the village to fight.
Mr. Kled is really bellicose.
Seeing Kled holding an ax and staring at him unkindly, Isaiah thought for a while and decided to end the topic about the Bandel people immediately.
"Mr. Kled, is the saddle that Uncle Malus made for you useful?"
Thinking that he could now safely ride on the stupid lizard, Kled gave up the idea of killing the stupid bipedal human cub alive.
"I have to say that your human craftsmanship is quite good! Skaar is very satisfied!"
Forgetting the unpleasantness just now, Kled skillfully turned over and mounted the dragon lizard, holding the reins.
"Look, I have now become a great dragon lizard knight, and I will defeat all fools and cowards who stand in front of me!"
“Not bad~”
After clapping his hands, Isaiah narrowed his eyes and continued to smile.
"Mr. Kled, are we friends now?"
Patting Skaar's hard scales, Kled jumped down and grinned.
"Of course, my human friend Isaiah, you have successfully gained the friendship of General Kled."
"Can General Kled tell you another story about Bandle City, about the yordle Rambo who likes to collect rags?"
"Yeah, that furry, rat-like guy likes to collect junk. He likes to pick up things that others don't want and take them home. He tinkers with some strange 'highly lethal' weapons. But the fact is that he can't even kill cockroaches.
…
And his height, even among the Yodels, can be regarded as an out-and-out dwarf... Probably not even reaching your knees? He always wants to be praised by another Bandel...
Hehe, it’s more of special attention than appreciation.”
Without hesitation, he laughed at his own people. Kled suddenly thought of something and smiled maliciously.
"I remember telling you last time, the gunners in Bandle City, the leader of those gunners, is called Tristana. Tristana is the one that the garbage man likes. Regarding this matter, the entire Bandle City
All smart people have figured it out, not including fools and fools.”
"Bander's chief gunner is named Tristana?"
"Yes, her name is Tristana. She also has a hand cannon called 'Boom'. That hand cannon is bigger than her body. I don't know how she controls that big thing. I saw it with my own eyes."
Then she used the boom to blast herself into the sky!
Wait... maybe Squall, I should also consider getting a gas cannon? Squall, would you like to carry a cannon? I think it'll fit on your butt! If you like to escape, use your butt.
Aim at the enemy and release your stinky farts to smoke them to death!"
"Goo gah gah? Uh-huh?"
"Tch, that's really boring."
When Skaar asked in return, Kled curled his lips.
"So does Tristana know Rambo likes her?"
"should……"
Just when the two were chatting happily, a billowing smoke rose from the village at the foot of the mountain, and Isaiah's expression changed.
"It's a warning and gathering signal in the village! Maybe the Noxians are coming! No, I have to go back and see my mother!"
After hearing this, Kled quickly straddled Skaar, picked up his ax, and looked at the smoke excitedly.
"Let's go, Isiah, let me see if the Noxians are as powerful as you say! If you dare to lie to me..."
"What will happen?"
After thinking about it for a moment, Kled said with a ferocious expression.
"Then I'll kill you!"
"Ouch! Ouch!!"
…
For the tanner Malus, the days of fear are finally over.
Because the Noxians are really coming.
"Everyone give up resistance! Gather at the village gate! Give up resistance! Gather at the village gate! The Noxians will not attack us!"
The village chief's voice came from outside the cobbler's house, making the cobbler feel a little more at ease.
'Maybe life would be better if the Noxians came?'
With a wry smile, Malus put down the half-sewn leather armor in his hand and walked towards the entrance of the village.
“Everyone, come and register your personal situation!! Get in line! Don’t rush!”
The soldier in charge of recording asked the villagers for their names and other information, and then recorded the basic information on a bound Shurima paper.
Within the solemn defensive line formed by dozens of soldiers, the village chief of Trewell was talking to Lester.
