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墨書 Inktalez
Darius's gaze was as sharp as a blade, his fists clenched tightly, his muscles tense as if ready to unleash immense power at any moment. He was astonished to find that in this war-torn land, there were so many Frosty Puppets. These monsters, composed of ice and snow, not only had terrifying appearances but also moved with extreme agility, coldly and mercilessly carrying out their missions.
He witnessed a heartbreaking scene: a Frosty Puppet slowly pierced through a soldier's chest with its arm made of ice. The soldier's eyes were filled with fear and despair as he struggled, but ultimately could not break free from the puppet's control. His life was frozen in that moment, his eyes gradually becoming hollow, and finally losing all light.
On the other side, another Frosty Puppet used its ice blade to chop off the head of another soldier. Blood sprayed out, mixing with the cold air on the blade, forming a chilling blood ice ring. This scene sent a shiver down Darius's spine, rising to the top of his head.
Darius's gaze met that of a Frosty Puppet, as if the puppet sensed his presence and turned to walk towards him. Darius instantly felt a chill from head to toe, but he couldn't mind the pain coming from all over his body. He immediately crouched down, tensed his body, and focused all his attention.
At that moment, he suddenly felt a wave of heat coming from behind him. His intuition told him that this was not the breath of an enemy. Darius instinctively lowered his head, clenched his fists, and his body was like a taut bow, ready to unleash a deadly blow.
However, when he turned around, he found that the source of this heat was actually Gragas. The chief warrior of Freljord was lying unconscious on the ground, with a pained expression, clearly having also experienced a fierce battle.
Darius felt a wave of complexity in his heart. Just moments ago, he and Gragas were enemies, but now, they had become fellow sufferers due to the sudden disaster. He clenched his fists, took a deep breath, and then walked over to Gragas, gently patting his face, trying to wake him up.
He knew that whether they were enemies or friends, they must now join forces in order to have any hope of surviving this land of death.
Darius's fingers gently touched Gragas's plump face, and an unexpectedly warm sensation made him pause for a moment. The stubble on Gragas's face grew haphazardly, as if it were an artwork doodled on by someone at random. However, the rough and unkempt exterior formed a stark contrast with the subtle warmth emanating from his face.
Darius's fingers slowly glided over Gragas's face, feeling the soft skin hidden beneath the rough stubble. His touch seemed to be exploring an unknown territory, as if every inch of skin was speaking to him, revealing the tender and warm nature within this powerful warrior.
At this moment, Darius felt a surge of complex emotions. He had never observed Gragas at such close range, nor had he realized that this seemingly rough Freljord Warrior possessed so many layers and subtleties. His hand eventually came to rest on Gragas' cheek, gently caressing it, as if in that instant, the enmity and conflict between them had temporarily disappeared.
Darius took a deep breath, then slowly withdrew his hand. Squatting beside Gragas in his unconscious state, his gaze lingered on the massive and sturdy body. Gragas was only wearing a rough pair of trousers, revealing the impressive muscular upper body. Each muscle seemed like a meticulously crafted work of art, full of strength and beauty. His chest muscles were particularly robust, like two huge shields protecting his inner softness.
The most striking thing is his belly, the abdomen that rises and falls like a small hill with his deep, rhythmic breathing. This undulating motion carries an almost hypnotic rhythm, making one involuntarily want to observe it longer. There are also some shallow scars and marks on his belly, evidence of the countless battles and hardships he has endured.
Darius felt a surge of complex emotions. He had never imagined that this Freljord Warrior who had always been at odds with him could exhibit such a nearly pure sense of beauty in an unconscious state. Beneath that massive body, there lay a beauty that almost made one forget about war and slaughter.
At this moment, Darius suddenly understood why Gragas could win the respect and love of people in the harsh environment of Freljord. That strength and beauty are not just physical, but also a kind of spiritual radiance.
But he also knew that now was not the time to indulge in this beauty. They were in a battlefield full of danger and death, where every moment could be their last. Darius took a deep breath, suppressed his emotions and thoughts, and prepared to face even more severe challenges ahead.
Darius stared intently at the approaching Frosty Puppet, his heart racing as various thoughts quickly flashed through his mind. He knew that with his current pace and battle experience, it was still possible to escape this deadly place. Once he was out of this dangerous battlefield, he would have the chance to return to Noxus, back to the familiar and beloved land.
However, in that moment, his gaze involuntarily fell on the unconscious Gragas beside him. The massive and robust body, the belly rising like a small hill, the regular and deep breaths, all silently told him that this person's life was also worth respecting and protecting.
He hesitated.
At that moment, Darius suddenly realized that survival was not just for himself. Even if he could escape successfully, he would feel guilty and responsible if he left Gragas alone to face these Frosty Puppets. That guilt would be like an indelible mark, forever weighing on his heart.
He took a deep breath and made a decision. No, he couldn't just escape like this, at least not alone. He had to try to awaken Gragas, even if doing so would put them in greater danger. But this was what he, as a warrior, as a person with dignity and responsibility, should do.
Darius clenched his fists, preparing for the upcoming battle. He knew it would be a test of his will and courage, but regardless of the outcome, he would not regret his choice.
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