Noxus Glory

Chapter 60 The Thunderous Voice of the Hunting Lord

The edge of the frozen river.

Led by the war stonemasons, Noxian soldiers quickly constructed imposing military installations based on trenches.

Guard towers, ramparts, tents, and other structures rose from the ground and stood on the ice field.

In the center of the camp.

Darius stood before the heavy fur tent, looking north.

The dim starlight illuminated the high slopes of the Winterthorn Mountain Road.

He could see a campfire burning above, smoke rising through the treetops—the vanguard of the Winterclaw tribe.

They are waiting!

Darius caught a strong smell of blood at his nose, turned around, and saw Captain Faron and Olo returning.

"General, what are you looking at?"

Olo walked behind Darius, his tall stature providing a wider field of vision, allowing him to see the Winterclaw tribe stationed there.

"You want me to lead my soldiers to deal with these scum?"

The recent victory seemed to have ignited Aulo's fighting spirit, and he looked at Darius with eager anticipation, wanting to charge at the enemy once again.

"Need not!"

Darius shook his head in refusal, gazing at the snow-covered world, the biting cold seeping into the clouds.

"Isn't this mountain path, forged from the avalanche, the very place we've been longing for in our decisive battle?"

"I don't think Sejuani would refuse!"

Darius's expression grew increasingly grave as he recalled the defeat in the first Battle of Freljord.

He needed victory in this war to restore the empire's glory and quell the internal chaos, especially among the separatists who were eager to see the empire fall apart.

"Pass down my order: all battlebands, assemble at Winterthorn Pass!"

"Yes, General!"

Behind Darius, the scout cavalrymen who had received the order answered respectfully and immediately turned and left.

Soon, the neighing of warhorses faded into the snowy mountain road as the cold winter night deepened.

The pine needles high up were all the color of blood, forming a stark contrast with the surrounding pale snow.

As Udyr watched a scarlet leaf fall, he realized how much he had misunderstood the color red.

In his hometown, this color would only be splashed on the white snow.

But in Freljord, red symbolizes violence and death is near.

But in fact, red symbolizes life. Every person and every animal, as long as they are alive, contains the color red within them.

Udir opened his eyes.

The candlelight used for meditation burned a red spot in his vision, and the rain hissed as it hit the dying campfire.

A strong wind rattled the huddled leather curtains of the cabin, as if intending to blow them down before dawn. Cold rain seeped through the gaps in the fur carpets inside the curtains.

Udyr then realized that he was not sitting cross-legged with the monks on the distant summit of Ionia Mountain, but rather in a corner of Sejuani's camp.

This is my home! A bittersweet pride welled up in Udir's heart.

It took Udil several weeks to successfully meditate again, but he can't be happy now.

He had just begun to see his surroundings clearly... when the sounds returned.

The thoughts of the nearby Ernuk, Juvask wild boar, and horses overwhelmed his self-awareness, filling his mind with foreign sensations—

The deafening roar, like thunder, could only be heard by him and the most powerful Beast Spirit Walker, and it could not silence them.

Following closely behind are human emotions, a thousand fragmented thoughts mixed together: anger, fear, resentment, indifference, and so on.

Udyr repeatedly plunged the silver spikes into his palms, the impact of the metal amplifying the pain thousands of times, but he was willing to pay any price to drive away those voices.

Any cost!

"Shaman, the War Mother requests your presence!"

The sound outside the tent brought Udir back to his senses. He looked down at his blood-soaked hand, quickly wiped it away, and got up to go outside.

Following the Blood Oath warriors before him, Udyr came to Sejuani.

Compared to the relaxed atmosphere before, the Warmother of Winter's Claws looked solemn as she sat on the saddle of Steelmane.

Perhaps sensing something, the enormous Juvask wild boar snorted nervously, the ice around its paws cracked, and its huge eyes stared into the distance in the darkness.

There, in front of the burning campfire.

The acolyte of the bear spirit waved a bear paw diagram across his chest, and the many oath-takers surrounding him began to echo it.

Countless sounds overlapped each other, singing different tones simultaneously, creating an unnatural human elegy that resonated harmoniously with the roar of the flames.

This sound made Udir feel lost and confused again.

As time went on, Sejuani positioned her troops in a pincer formation along the woods by the riverbank.

Everyone had their weapons ready and were waiting for the arrival of the bear-man tribe.

The veteran warriors pounded their shields and beat the war drums.

This is a custom in Freljord: you must prove yourself a friend before you can lay down your weapons.

Tiny static sparks began to appear on the warriors' armor, swords, and battle axes.

Udyr saw that the warriors were bewildered by this strange phenomenon, and that the arcs of electricity continued to leap and move between their weapons; he could sense their fear.

At the forefront of the army, Sejuani waved her hand and threw off her cloak.

This was undoubtedly a reminder to their tribe that this War Mother possessed the true bloodline of ice.

The power of ice flowed in her blood; battle was the only warmth she needed, and even the bear spirit could not instill fear in her.

Udyr followed Sejuani to the edge of the woods, where his face began to elongate and deform, his teeth protruding outward to form huge fangs, before shrinking back to their original shape.

The hair on his skin rippled and flowed all over his body, covering him completely, and then receded like the tide in a small bay, as if responding to some unknown wave.

He growled and barked, drool dripping from the corners of his mouth.

Suddenly, Udir's eyes widened, and he said in a low voice, "They're here!"

Silence swept over everything.

The first group of bear-men emerged silently from the shadows among the trees—they were savages.

Their skin was stained brown with blood. Their hair was matted together with filth. Some were naked, others were covered in bearskins or rags.

Next came the wild beasts, mostly bears, varying in size and fur color.

Udyr recognized some of the species, but there were others he had never seen before.

They were all once Beast Walkers, but are now trapped in the merciless form of a giant bear.

They have long forgotten that they were once human.

Next comes the monster.

They are all bizarre hybrids of bears and other creatures, things from legends, nightmares, and folk tales.

And they were all once people.

But now it has been completely devoured by the True Beast Spirit and no longer has the appearance of a normal animal.

The bear-men stood in a disorderly line opposite Sejuani's army. They did not adopt an attack stance, nor did they make any sound; they were simply waiting.

Udyr's rapid breathing gradually subsided, and his trembling turned into a drowsy sway. He recognized many souls on the opposite front: students, masters, and former Oath-takers.

There were clan shamans he met while drinking, and warriors he met on the battlefield.

They have retained almost no sense of self, and most have forgotten that they were once human.

Some have even torn their souls apart, leaving only the unyielding spirit of the bear, an infinite self-confidence bordering on rage.

A man emerged from the woods, wearing only a huge raven feather hood and a bearskin cloak.

Hunting Lord!

"Why did you summon us, Winter's Claw?"

"I beg for the strength of the Bearmen," Sejuani said, taking a deep breath and enunciating each word clearly. "I beg you to fight alongside my tribe, Lord of the Hunts."

Lord Hunter looked at Sejuani, his lifeless eyes unmoving in their sockets, until he saw Udyr beside him, at which point a glimmer of color appeared in his eyes.

"You've asked the wrong person. I'm just relaying Volibear's message."

"As his representative, I can accept your promise—"

"I can't speak for him; I'm just his tool," the Hunter Lord interrupted her. He seemed to be staring into the distance behind Sejuani.

"Our Lord walks with us."

Udyr was the first to feel its power, more so than anyone else present.

Those voices, those beast spirits in his mind, those lingering consciousnesses... all began to weaken.

Even Sejuani, who was right next to her, couldn't sense it; the anger and impatience surrounding her subsided.

A thunderous voice rang out!

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(End of this chapter)