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墨書 Inktalez
As the atmosphere in the Armory grew heavy, Squad Leader William suddenly stepped in front of Azul. His robust figure loomed over Azul like an insurmountable mountain, creating an oppressive feeling. However, William suddenly broke into a wild grin and slapped Azul's shoulder with such force that it made him stumble forward.
"But fighting, kid, is the most exhilarating thing in this world! The thrill of blood and flesh flying, that intense rush—nothing else compares!" William's voice was filled with passion, his eyes sparkling with the fire of memories as he spoke. "On the battlefield, the only ones you can trust, besides your brothers beside you, are the sword at your side."
Before Azul could respond, William's hand swiftly reached for Azul's waist and snatched away his small knife. The movement was so quick that Azul barely had time to react, staring blankly at the empty space where his knife had been. William toyed with the blade between his fingers as if showing off, skillfully spinning it before suddenly executing a series of rapid and precise slashes, as if truly facing an enemy on the battlefield. This display filled Azul with awe and fear as he watched the seemingly alive blade carve silver arcs through the air.
The soldiers around them began to cheer, pounding their fists on tables and creating an inspiring uproar. Some veterans even shouted encouragement for William to perform more combat moves, and the atmosphere became lively and filled with a rugged masculinity.
"Watch closely, kid!" William shouted to Azul, his voice brimming with a warrior's intensity. "This isn't just technique; it's instinct for survival on the battlefield!" He then made a dramatic slashing motion, striking a heroic pose with the knife pointed straight at the ceiling.
William's performance quickened Azul's heartbeat; he felt an unprecedented mix of excitement and tension while also grappling with complex emotions of both anticipation and fear regarding potential real battles ahead. Amidst the laughter and playful banter, Azul deeply felt the unique brotherhood and life-and-death camaraderie that permeated the military camp.
William's knife dance created a sensation in the Armory. Each flourish was not merely a display of skill but a performance infused with wild aesthetics. Every swing of his arm carried the sound of rushing wind, and the blade traced glimmering arcs in the air as if lightning darting through a storm. Each step was meticulously calculated; every arc drawn by the knife was flawless, revealing muscles that gleamed with strength.
Watching this scene filled Azul with a sense of reverence. William's every roll and leap appeared incredibly light, as if his weight did not match his imposing physique. With each downward slash, he exuded an astonishing momentum that seemed to split the air apart with a whistling sound.
The surrounding soldiers were captivated; their reactions shifted from initial surprise to fervor. Some began clapping along to William's rhythm while others cheered at every strike of his knife. The entire Armory resonated with boisterous laughter and an atmosphere thick with male testosterone; each time William executed a particularly daring move, it drew louder applause.
And Azul, caught up in this infectious atmosphere, felt his heart race faster—not just from the visual shock of William's performance but also from the raw power and courage radiating from him. He understood that this was not merely a show; it was a tribute to warrior spirit, each slash embodying the resilience and tenacity of Noxian soldiers.
As William's movements quickened further, his expression grew fierce; it seemed he was no longer performing but truly immersed in an intense battle. Each swing was filled with power and speed as the blade sliced through air in shimmering silver arcs, producing sharp sounds that suggested it could cut through any obstacle in its path.
The atmosphere in the Armory reached a boiling point; soldiers' shouts became low and aggressive like beasts. They began banging their helmets and tables loudly in rhythm with each of William's strikes, as if urging him on to push his limits further. William's gaze was sharp as an eagle’s, locked onto Azul, instilling within him an unprecedented sense of pressure and fear.
In this tense atmosphere, William's movements suddenly became more intense, his blade dancing like a violent storm. As he gradually closed in on Azul, each flash of the blade sent a chilling aura from its edge. The soldiers around them were completely captivated by William's imposing presence, their cheers echoing like war drums on the battlefield, both exhilarating and intimidating.
Azul's heart raced as he faced this almost tangible sense of oppression, unsure of how to respond. With each swing of William's knife coming closer, every vibration in the air made him feel as if he were truly in the midst of a battlefield crisis. William's performance had transcended mere entertainment; it had become a test, a real trial of courage for the rookie, Azul.
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