"Dear Ram, how are you doing?" Fiddlesticks quietly appeared beside the jealous demon.
Ram was dissatisfied when he saw this and distanced himself from Him: "Right away! Right now! What about you? Did Atreus accept our gift?"
"What reason does he have for refusing?" Fiddlesticks was puzzled by Ram's doubts: "Don't he understand that he is just a mortal?"
"The hearts of mortals are the weirdest, most complex, and the most interesting." Ram retorted: "Not to mention such a precious material, of course... I don't think he can refuse such a weapon, haha!"
Fiddlesticks also laughed: "But it needs to be stated in advance that our design was not completely completed because I met Gracie Shelley in the mausoleum.
He was collecting fragments of the Thunder Rune, and fate had a wonderful misunderstanding."
"Huh! That's the argument again!" Ram complained dissatisfiedly, but didn't say much because this plan was just an inconspicuous episode in his long life.
"Although in the end the weapon did not swallow the host's soul and eventually evolved into a strange life form like the Darkin, from my observation, such a weapon seems to be more suitable for Atreus.
This mortal has a will that shocks the stars, so what he needs is not a murderous weapon that can dominate his body, but a tame spear.
His will is the best weapon to kill the protoss."
"Are you trying to influence my aesthetic taste?" Ram's narrow eyes narrowed more and more, and there was a dangerous meaning in his eyes when he looked at Fiddlesticks.
"Of course not, dear Ram." Fiddlesticks said with his broken gong voice very sincerely: "I know your restricted area, Jiehaha, I'm just sharing my opinion with you."
But His eyes were also flashing red: "So, are you ready?"
"Prepare?"
Ram sneered: "I don't need to do anything, I just need to let the lost traveler... finish it for me."
"And perfectly concealed his traces, ha——"
Fiddlesticks paid some attention to the temple where Xerath and Renekton were buried.
A pitch-black raven stood among the ruins, its scarlet eyes locked on a young girl.
It was a young man who broke away from the team during the tribal migration. She walked into the ruins holding a torch, and the inexplicable aura took her to the deepest place.
"Azir? The last emperor..."
"It turns out that this is the place to rescue him!"
Her steps became faster and faster, and her expression was excited. Fiddlesticks looked at this funny scene, but looked at Ram with some dissatisfaction: "Ram! This performance is really too rough. Have you already done it for
Have you lowered your standards because of bad taste?"
"Shut up, Fiddlesticks!"
Ram screamed: "Stop trying to influence me, or I'll show you a real comedy and make you... the protagonist!"
Fiddlesticks sighed with regret upon hearing this.
But no more words.
Thousands of years ago, Ram secretly influenced Xerath, causing the mighty Shurima to fall.
Now, with Azir recovering again, Ram will once again direct the love and death of these two friends.
This is the grand finale that Ram really arranged. Fiddlesticks has never doubted Ram's ability and his character as a demon.
But as he got closer to his fate... He began to become more and more afraid, afraid that such an unstable factor would suddenly destroy such a beautiful situation.
The more he believed in Ram's bad taste, the more he believed in the possibility.
But now is not the time for internal strife. He must also restrain his nature.
When the demon starts to restrain, the protoss will panic... isn't it?
Now, in the Southern Continent, there are the resurrected Azir and Xerath, the souls of the Shadow Island who have traveled across the ocean, and the dark descendants who have returned following their instincts...
Even Gracie Shelley came here!
The stage has been set up. What kind of drama will the man who regards the Southern Continent as his own back garden sing on the stage?
…
On the top of the towering snow-capped mountains, Atreus felt the temperature of the ice with his body. He had been sitting here for several days.
The cold made his thinking clearer, and the suffering made his body stronger.
As long as you are high enough, you can still feel the cold even in this barren land.
But there is no such phenomenon on Mount Targon, because the gods are high above it, so the cold does not dare to come.
On his side was a fierce and fierce spear, which he called "commandments" to warn him not to indulge in killing.
Because he accepted this spear, his entire right arm has been eroded by the bloody energy in it, and an armor made of unknown material has been derived. After his violent and bloodthirsty will was suppressed, he paid for it as the price of bearing this power.
It doesn't seem serious...
To his left, the Protoss Shield leaned quietly.
The familiar and calm starlight tempered his mortal body.
The two weapons and equipment are completely opposite in nature, but they can coexist peacefully in his hands.
that's enough!
He looked to the north and saw boundless yellow sand beneath the snowy peaks.
Even under the cover of night, his golden eyes could penetrate the darkness, and he seemed to be able to see the mountain peak that was always bathed in the brilliance of the sun.
So... out of reach, yet so high up!
He took one last look at the lonely moon in the sky, then silently picked up his weapon and walked barefoot down the mountain.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
The footsteps sounded like thunder.
In front of him, a burly figure walked towards him.
He was holding a terrifying bloody sword on his shoulder, his skin was red, and the dark armor seemed to grow out of his body.
The two looked at each other, and in the next moment, they yelled each other's names.
"Atreus!"
"Aatrox!"
Accompanied by the mad laughter of the sword demon, one person and one demon collided with each other. The towering snow-capped mountains burst open at this moment, and the turbulent waves rumbled and vented down.
Atreus gritted his teeth, dug his shield into the ground, and held his bloody spear firmly against the sword, not giving way at all.
Veins popped out of his forehead.
"Ah!!!" he roared.
The starlight and the brutal power of the Darkin were added at the same time. His right arm bulged unnaturally, and he raised the spear. He picked up the Star Shield with his left hand, twisted around, and the big shield was chopped down like a battle axe.
.
Aatrox's face was visibly distorted, but the majestic force surged in and he flew backwards.
"I have a spear and a shield!"
"I am a child of war!"
Atreus stepped forward, standing out from the aura of thousands of troops, and even the power of the dark descendants surrendered in his hands.