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墨書 Inktalez
On the icy battlefield, Darius is like an unstoppable war god, his almost berserk fighting style making every Frosty Puppet feel an unprecedented threat. They, these puppets manipulated by dark magic, although devoid of emotions, seem to sense a hint of fear under Darius's thunderous attacks. For a moment, they stop in their tracks, no longer blindly launching attacks at Darius.
Darius stands on the snowy ground piled with Frosty Puppet corpses, gripping his weapons tightly, emitting steam from his body as if to melt the surrounding ice and snow. His gaze is firm, filled with the determination and compassion of battle. He loudly declares to these Frosty Puppets, his voice echoing across the icy plain, full of strength and dignity.
"If you were once a brave warrior of Noxus or Freljord, then face me! I will give you the rest you deserve!" Darius's voice thundered across the entire battlefield. His words carried both a challenge and a deep respect for these former warriors.
Although Darius's words may not have a tangible impact on these indifferent entities, they symbolize a respect for the enemy and a reverence for warriors. This is a noble spirit on the battlefield, the greatest respect for the soldiers who sacrificed themselves in battle. Darius stood there, his figure appearing resolute and solitary in the raging wind, as if he were an indomitable symbol on this ice-covered land.
His calls and challenges echoed in the air, and though the ice marionettes were devoid of emotion, in the presence of this powerful aura, they seemed to hesitate for a moment. In this moment, Darius was not just a warrior, but also the spokesperson for the souls of the fallen soldiers. He fought with his own strength and courage to secure their final dignity and peace.
At that moment, two cavalrymen emerged from the side. Their bodies were strong and robust, encased in heavy armor, with frosty traces covering every piece of armor, as if they were warriors frozen in winter. Part of their faces could be vaguely seen under their helmets, once lively visages now stiff and pale, with hollow and lifeless eyes, only the dim blue light flashing with a cold gleam on the dark battlefield. In Darius's heart, the former Wolf Cavalry represented the power and glory of Noxus, their bravery and loyalty unmatched. However, now they had become ice marionettes, a change that was a great blow to Darius.
The wolf mounts of the cavalry also became cold and ruthless. These wolves were originally a terrifying presence on the battlefield, known for their agility and ferocity. But now, their bodies are covered in frost, their limbs stiff, yet they still maintain astonishing speed and strength. The wild and spirited nature in their eyes has vanished, replaced only by a haunting blue glow, as if they were monsters from another world.
As these cursed Wolf Cavalry charged towards Darius, they emitted a spine-chilling growl that echoed in the cold wind, adding to the terror of the battlefield. The dual blades in their hands gleamed with a ruthless light, each swing carrying a fierce killing intent and destructive power. These swords also seemed to be cursed, wrapped in frost and shining with a cold light, as if they could cut through anything.
Darius faced these former comrades, filled with pity and anger. These once brave cavalry and their wolf mounts had become controlled puppets, losing their former glory and dignity. Darius took a deep breath, preparing for this brutal battle. With each swing of his sword, he fought not only against the enemies before him, but also sought liberation for these cursed warriors.
In the cold wind, Noxus's Wolf Cavalry launched their deadly charge. Clad in armor and wielding dual blades, their eyes revealed ruthless determination. Even as Frosty Puppets, this instinct for battle remained deeply ingrained in their marrow. The wolves of Noxus, once symbols of strength and valor, had now become messengers of death. Their hooves trampled through the snow, producing a heavy and rhythmic sound that seemed to shake the earth with each step.
As the distance shortened, the Wolf Cavalry began to accelerate. Their movements were swift and coordinated, as if performing a carefully choreographed dance of death. Under the command of their riders, these wolves suddenly picked up speed, their bodies gliding through the ice and snow, leaving behind clear tracks. During the acceleration, the riders bent their bodies, hugging close to the wolves' backs to reduce wind resistance. Their dual blades danced in the air, creating a shimmering silver light, like the cruel cold of winter.
The acceleration of the Wolf Cavalry brought a strong force, with each hoof strike of the wolves more powerful than the last, and each wolf's howl deeper. The coordination between the wolves and riders was seamless, their movements agile and powerful, each turn sharp, each impact filled with deadly force. Darius, facing this sudden attack, felt an unprecedented pressure. He knew that this was not just a physical confrontation, but also a mental challenge.
Darius stands there, his feet deeply embedded in the blood-stained snow. Although his longsword has slain countless enemies and bears the marks of battle, it remains sharp and sturdy. In his other hand, he tightly grips a battle axe, a heavy and lethal weapon that displays his determination and strength as a warrior. Darius’s gaze is sharp, his body like an immovable mountain, steadfastly awaiting the impending onslaught.
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