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Darius leaned against the rough tree roots, feeling his body gradually losing warmth. Under the warmth and care of Gragas, the external cold seemed to have receded far away. A faint bitter smile appeared on his pale face as he couldn't help but sigh inwardly. The power of Noxus, once dominant on the battlefield, was now facing life and death choices in this distant land of Freljord.
Gragas's hands were stained with Darius's blood, his face contorted with anger, but Darius could read deep concern in his eyes. This warrior of Freljord, despite his rugged appearance, had a soft heart. In this lonely tree hollow, Darius realized that the bond between them had transcended their past enmity.
Darius's gaze fell on Gragas's face. He wanted to say something to express his gratitude, but the words turned into a weak murmur at the corner of his mouth. His fingers trembled slightly, wanting to touch Gragas, but he couldn't do it due to physical exhaustion. Gragas looked down at Darius, his eyes filled with complex emotions. He deeply understood that the enemy before him had now become his responsibility to protect.
Darius's eyelids gradually grew heavy, and his consciousness began to blur. In this secret refuge, the time spent with a former opponent became the most incredible yet most real moment in his life. In the final stage of his life, he felt a strange peace, a feeling he had never experienced on the battlefield.
As Darius's eyelids gradually grew heavy, as if about to fall into a deep slumber, Gragas felt an unprecedented sense of tension and fear welling up in his heart. Instinctively, he grabbed Darius's shoulder, but quickly realized that such a gesture might bring Darius more pain. So, he swiftly adjusted his posture, gently resting his hand on Darius's shoulder, trying to make his movements gentler.
Gragas's voice carried a sense of urgency and panic as he shouted, " Darius! You can't close your eyes! Wake up! You can't sleep now!" His voice echoed inside the tree hollow, tinged with a hint of turmoil, as if struggling against an impending loss.
Gragas's eyes flashed with a hint of tears, and his face revealed a rare vulnerability. This warrior of Freljord has always been a symbol of strength and determination, but now, facing the edge of life and death, his heart is filled with struggle and helplessness. He cannot accept that a former enemy has now become a presence he is unwilling to lose deep within his heart.
Gragas's fingers gently touched Darius's cheek, trying to awaken him, but at the same time, he also realized that this struggle against death might be a battle he cannot win. In this quiet and mysterious tree hollow, Gragas and Darius face the ultimate test together, one struggling to resist accepting fate, and the other quietly waiting for fate to end, Darius.
Gragas thinks quickly in the midst of tension and anxiety, rapidly searching his mind for which familiar places in this land might provide the urgently needed medical assistance. Suddenly, a thought flashes through his mind—those mysterious and unpredictable spirit walkers. Their camp, if memory serves, should be nearby.
These spirit walkers are a group of people Gragas unexpectedly encountered during an exploration of new brewing wheat. They live deep in Freljord and are said to possess magical powers, able to communicate with nature spirits. Gragas was only mildly curious at the time and didn't pay much attention, but now, these mysterious walkers may be Darius's only hope.
At this critical moment of life and death, Gragas decided to take a gamble. He lifted his head, took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. Then he turned to look at Darius, whose breathing had become increasingly weak.
"Darius, hold on," Gragas said in a low voice with all his strength, his voice revealing a hint of determination. "I will take you to find those divine walkers. They might be able to save you."
After saying this, Gragas began to recall the path to the camp of the spirit walkers in his mind. Despite the blurry memory, he had to try his best in this critical moment. He took a deep breath, gathered all his strength, and prepared to embark on this journey full of unknowns and dangers with Darius.
As Gragas struggled to concentrate, trying to recall the vague path to the camp of the spirit walkers, he suddenly heard hurried and secretive footsteps outside the tree hollow. It was two assassins from the Court of Shadows, moving lightly on the snow like ghosts through invisibility magic. A surge of anger rose in Gragas's heart. These troublemakers, even after death, had become ruthless Frosty Puppets and continued to cause trouble.
"Will you not even spare the dead, Freljord?" Gragas roared in his heart, his eyes burning with fury.
He turned to look at the pale Darius, one of the mightiest warriors of Noxus, now lying here on the brink of death. Gragas knew deep down that if he didn't act quickly, the assassins from the Court of Shadows would strike again, and this time, their target might not just be Darius.
He quickly got up, although his body still felt tired, but he knew he had to fight. Gragas decided to take the initiative, he crouched down, quietly approaching the exit of the tree hole, ready to meet the assassin court killers who were still restless after death. His hands clenched into fists, ready to protect Darius with his immense strength when necessary, and to confront these enemies lurking in the darkness.
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