Void Beetle Evolution Guide

Then he pressed down, pouring all his weight onto the blade, and brought it down heavily. Nasus pushed him aside and jumped to the side, the sand beneath his feet exploding from the force of the blow. Rek'Sai used the flying sand and stones as cover to attack again, a sweeping strike that made Nasus's hand holding the battle axe slip, the weapon almost falling from his grasp.

“Nasus is still too restrained…” Kai’Sa watched the battle between the two gods. Nasus was fighting very passively, as if he was afraid of killing Renekton with one axe. If this continued, he would be hacked to death by Renekton sooner or later.

The two Celestial Warriors clashed violently in a deadly waltz. Nasus leaped into the air, his axe slashing downwards in a long arc, shattering Rek'Sai's breastplate under the heavy blow and leaving her chest torn and bleeding.

Renekton retaliated angrily, spinning and charging up a sharp slash that struck the battle axe. The explosive impact shook the sand beneath his feet, creating rings of dust. Then, a whip lash sent Nasus sprawling to the ground.

He lunged forward, his axe and blade pressing down on Nasus's neck like a guillotine. Black blood flowed between his fangs, dripping onto Nasus's eyes with each heavy breath.

Nasus gritted his teeth, resisting the falling blade. The bent axe handle creaked painfully, pressed against his throat, threatening to snap at any moment...

"Don't forget the pride and glory of the past. You and I are both noble warriors of Shurima."

As the blade was about to sever his neck, Nasus finally broke free from his self-imposed shackles, filling his body with the fury of the desert and transforming into the form of a divine warrior.

His body rapidly expanded, his obsidian-like limbs brimming with power, easily shoving Renekton, who had cornered him. Sand rose from the ground and swirled around him, forming a violent sandstorm. His wounds and armor were magically restored, shimmering with brilliant golden light.

The Jackal God stood tall and terrifying, and Renekton stared at him in a daze, as if he were recalling his own proper posture under the demonstration.

A jade-like light also shone within him, flowing along his forked veins throughout his body. His hunched posture gradually straightened, rivaling that of the colossal Nasus. Long-forgotten magic overflowed within him; his reconstructed skin showed no scars, scales clung tightly to his surface, radiating a shimmering vitality. (The last two lines appear to be unrelated and possibly machine-generated text.)

A sandstorm surrounded them, and the two brothers were granted ascension simultaneously, their abilities nearly identical. Even their originally yellowish eyes now burned with the light of a new star, and the places that had been clouded by madness became clear.

Nasus looked into those eyes and a sense of familiarity rose within him. He called out Renekton's name with hope, only to be met with a merciless attack.

"Traitor! He must die!"

It swung its crescent-shaped axe alternately with its left and right hands, then gripped both hands tightly and slashed down at Nasus.

Chapter 434 The Dust Settles

Under the blazing sun, the clash of massive weapons sent sand and stones flying beneath the feet of the two beast-headed gods. Grains of sand were flung into the air, then swept up by the raging storm, swirling around the gods.

The sand grains formed a giant wave that lifted Renekton up and spun him into Nasus in a death spiral, moving at a speed far exceeding the limits of his massive body.

He rammed headfirst into Nasus's chest, roaring furiously, and shoved him off the training ground, crashing into the dunes like a locomotive.

The crescent-shaped axe blade repeatedly sliced ​​through Nasus's chest, shattering his breastplate. Nasus groaned and staggered back a few steps. Renekton spun around and swung his axe again, aiming for Nasus's neck.

Nasus rolled aside, avoiding the decapitating blade. He then thrust his axe forward, unleashing a power that withered away all life.

The magic within Renekton was suppressed, and his massive body crashed to the ground, but the crimson rage burning in his eyes remained intense.

He roared and stood up again, a pillar of fire rising from beneath his feet. Renekton howled as if he had been thrown into the core of the sun, his gilded armor melting into golden droplets, his hard scales curling up.

He was in pain and furious, but the intense desire for revenge blocked the pain. He removed his armor, leaped into the air, spun once, and brought his crescent-shaped axe down heavily.

Nasus squinted, looking up at Renekton's figure. His massive body blotted out the sky, and the axe in his hand was like the shadow of an eclipse, cleaving the sunlight that was about to fall on the midline of his head.

He knew he couldn't withstand the attack. Years had passed; Nasus had banished himself to the desert sands, and Renekton had retreated into darkness, both of them far less powerful than before. He couldn't help but recall the battle in the fires of Nashram, when both of them were at the peak of their power, and Renekton wasn't as stubborn as he was now.

Nasus dodged the attack, and Renekton slashed the ground, creating a large sandstorm that separated the two. Just as Nasus retreated, Renekton broke through the sandstorm and charged forward, his blade and axe only a hand's width away from Nasus's eyes. Nasus could feel the pain of the wind cutting through his skin.

Unable to defend in time, he was deeply slashed across the cheek by the knife. After succeeding, Renekton did not retreat in time and was hit by Renekton's backhand, breaking several of his ribs.

This fierce force brought Renekton to a halt; it was a pain he hadn't known for centuries. He swayed, as if reliving fragmented memories, countless victories and deaths, and events long buried in history.

But then those whispers implanted in his brain resurfaced, drawing his will back into the silent darkness of a tomb.

Darkness clouded Renekton's eyes, and he remembered the blood he had yet to shed, the hatred that had not yet been extinguished. He saw only the wolf-like face that had cast him into the dark tomb, and hatred and rage fueled his fury, making his body boil.

"My brother, how can I wake you up?"

Seeing the situation was dire, Nasus gripped his battle axe with both hands, the sapphire at the tip gleaming in the sunlight, and unleashed a powerful strike at Renekton. Renekton raised his axe to parry, but his weapon was knocked away. However, a sweep of his tail snatched Nasus's battle axe from his hand. (The last sentence appears to be unrelated and possibly spam/advertisement.)

He lunged at the source of his torment, and the two collided, enveloped in devastating energy. A magical shockwave erupted, and the desert rippled outwards, centered on the two of them.

Renekton and Nasus grappled with each other, the fight escalating into a close-quarters melee. The two were locked in combat, Renekton opening his jaws to bite Nasus's shoulder, while Nasus roared in agony, looking up at the sun, as his knees repeatedly struck Renekton's abdomen…

Their bodies, forged by the sun, were gathering their shattered bones together, relentlessly repairing their injuries. The battle was fierce, but a victor would not be easily decided in the short term.

Renekton attacked wildly, his claws tearing a chunk of flesh from Nasus's thigh. Nasus screamed in agony, and the more he screamed, the more bloodthirsty Renekton became.

He slammed his elbow into Renekton's head, then went around behind him, grabbed his tail, lifted it into the air, spun it around, and flung it away.

Renekton crashed into a dam pillar and came to a stop. The boulder slammed into him, raising a cloud of dust that blotted out the sky, and his sun-hardened bones snapped like rotten wood.

"I can't beat you!" He was defeated, fell to the ground, and howled in agony, his eyes filled only with the endless darkness that Xerath had cast upon him.

Nasus, equally battered, walked over and stopped in front of Renekton, saying sorrowfully, "My brother, what on earth did Xerath implant in your mind?"

He said that I, like him, was not chosen by the sun.

“No, you are different. You are far more noble than him,” Nasus said through gritted teeth. “I still remember the scene when you risked your own destruction to carry me, weak and sick, to the altar. How could someone as heroic as you be compared to a treacherous and despicable man like Xerath?”

"He said that I stole your divine power, and that if it weren't for me, you might have been able to defeat him back then."

"You're wrong, you're all wrong. Without you, I would never have had the chance to climb to the altar. Besides you, who else would have dared to risk carrying me up there?"

"I will stay with you until the very end."

Nasus uttered the words Renekton had once spoken to him, as Renekton carried him up the Stairway to Godhood.

Even now, those words can still easily cut into his heart, hurting him more than any sharp blade.

These words easily touched Renekton's heart. He recalled the same moment when his eyes, which had been clouded by madness, became clear and discerning.

“Rexton, you are the chosen one.” Azir waved his scepter, and the sun disc turned to bathe the two brothers in light.

The magic from the sun repaired their battered bodies, shattered bones reformed, and their skin regained its vitality.

"Your ascension was never because you took away Nasus's share of power, but because the Sun Disc recognized your selfless act. Heaven is merciful; it was the bond between you brothers that moved the heavens."

Ascension ceremonies are never equal; otherwise, there would be no birth of Baka, no distinction between strong and weak powers.

“Your Majesty—” Renekton choked back tears, remembering everything, remembering the glory of his days as a Celestial Warrior, “Xerath deceived me! He chattered on and on in the darkness!”

“Then crush him, avenge yourself, and stop letting him continue to be your shadow,” Azir said.

"He's too strong!" Renekton roared. "Even we combined couldn't defeat him! Even if we played again—"

“Rekton, you won’t be fighting alone,” Aatrox interrupted him. “This is a war for all of us.”

“We brothers will join forces once again!” A large, black, hard, inhuman yet powerful hand reached out from behind and covered his shoulder.

He turned his head and saw a jackal-like face, the very target he had intended to tear apart, but now, for some reason, that inexplicable hatred had vanished…

"Just like last time!" Feeling the conviction conveyed by the large hand, Renekton shook his head and shook himself a few times.

Images from the past flashed repeatedly through his chaotic mind. The scene of his brothers fighting Xerath together was still vivid in his mind—he carried Xerath and threw him into the tomb, making Nasus close the door, unaware of what awaited him. Despair surged into his heart once again...

“Just like last time, but I won’t leave you alone and run away again.” Nasus’s voice was like a deep well, and his worries vanished.

Chapter 435 The Fallen Princess

A week has passed since Sivir escaped from Dawn Oasis, and even now, she still feels that everything that happened in the Imperial Tomb is unreal.

Mysterious voices, fallen Dark Ones, resurrected emperors, and mad gods… those are not fields for someone as insignificant as her. She just wants to make some money to live comfortably and make up for the suffering of her childhood, not to bear this inexplicable mission. (The last two characters appear to be random characters and are not translated.)

So she fled, running away without looking back, even though she knew she was a descendant of the emperor.

She walked along the tributary of Mother of Life, heading away from the Oasis of Dawn. Normally, she wouldn't have had to worry about water, but water often means struggle, means the survival of the fittest.

Just as crocodiles lurk in rivers waiting for wildebeest to come and drink, many bandit gangs also wait near water sources for their prey to come to them.

Two days ago, Sivir encountered the damned Sarns by the river. They were curious about the river suddenly filled with clear water and went upstream to find out what had happened at the source of the Mother of Life.

Seeing that the enemy outnumbered her, Sylvie fled before they could find her. She was forced to leave the riverbank and head deeper into the desert, where she has not eaten or drunk anything for two whole days.

Sivir felt as if her throat was covered with shards of glass, her chapped lips burned like fire, and her eyes were unresponsive, her eyelids drooping and her vision unfocused.

She stumbled and fell to her knees on the sand dune, her knees sinking into the scorching sand baked by the sun. She was too weak to stand. Severe dehydration was threatening her; if she didn't find water soon, she might collapse completely.

Just when she was feeling utterly helpless, that mysterious voice appeared in her mind once again.

"You look like you're about to die."

"It was all done by that glamorous Noxian woman among you. It really caught me off guard." Sivir was about to say that, but she knew that once she opened her mouth, she would be the one to suffer the consequences.

She shook her head, trying to concentrate, but her mind was scattered due to dehydration... Why didn't she bring more water?

The capital city shimmered. Large jets of water spewed from the statues, all at the command of the ancients. Azir healed her wounds, saved her life, and then returned to rebuild his temple, chanting strange verses in an ancient tone, talking to himself in the desolate, yellow sand city. Sivir hadn't taken much water; she worried that if she didn't leave soon, the emperor might decide to bury everything back underground, or suddenly feel indebted to him.

"If you had chosen a water-filled sack instead of Charikar when you left, would things have been different?" the voice asked again.

“No one can take my family heirloom away. I’d rather die holding it!” Sivir replied, but the instinctive swallowing motion brought a new sharp pain to her throat.

"Hmph." Wild Hunt chuckled softly, "Still being stubborn even when death is imminent."

"What are you doing here?" Sivir asked, enduring the excruciating pain of swallowing glass.

"Azir is looking for you."

“I won’t go back.” Sivir’s heart sank. The ancient emperor had indeed gone back on his word.

"I'm not here to take you back."

The Wild Hunt would never hand Sivir over to Azir. Her blood is the core ingredient for the Ascension Ritual. Controlling her would be equivalent to holding the lifeline of the entire Ascension Empire in their hands.

It's important to understand that Azir was no benevolent monarch. On the contrary, he was extremely ambitious, and it was precisely in his desire to conquer the entire world that he defied public opinion and arranged for his own ascension.

If Sivir falls into Azir's hands, she will most likely be kept as a pet and her blood will be continuously drained. If one person's blood is not enough, she will be made to bear more offspring so that the blood can continue to be drained.

By constantly massing troops, as long as there are enough Ascended, it's only a matter of time before he conquers Runeterra. Therefore, the Wild Hunt must cut off the source and prevent Shurima from becoming dominant.

"Want some water?" Wild Hunt asked.

Sylvie hesitated for a moment, then nodded; she couldn't deny the primal urges of her body.

"Fresh water in the desert is more precious than gold. If you want it, you'll have to trade it for something else."

"You bastard who kicks someone when they're down!" Sivir cursed inwardly, then hugged Charikar tightly. "I can't possibly give you the family heirloom!"

"I don't want your weapon."

"So you want my blood?" Sivir was clever; after eliminating one option, she immediately found the answer.

However, it would be too easy for the Wild Hunt to get Sivir's blood. As long as she wore the armor, he could collect her blood without her noticing, so this isn't the definitive answer.

Sivir suddenly felt an itch in her palm, so she quickly took off her gloves and looked at her palm. She saw that the purple mark on it had cracked open, and through the crack she could see an endless space inside, giving her the illusion that her body was hollow.

There was no pain from the opening; a tentacle was wriggling and emerging from it, and the itch in my palm was caused by this thing.

Sylvie felt an instinctive fear at the foreign object emerging from her body, but her reaction was to forcefully grab the tentacle and try to pull it out by force.

The sticky texture caused Sivir to lose her grip. The tentacles looked glistening and smooth, with what seemed to be a layer of mucus covering their surface, making them as slippery as loaches and impossible to catch.

"Aren't you thirsty? Put it in your mouth." Wild Hunt didn't explain further, leaving Sivir trapped in endless suspicion and forced to make a choice.

"You want me to eat this stuff? Is this something a human can eat?"

Sylvie stared intently at the constantly writhing tentacles, feeling a strong sense of resistance, yet her eyes were drawn to the glistening moisture on them. In her extreme thirst, she found the tentacles incredibly delicious and tempting.

Despite her discomfort, she slowly placed the tentacle into her mouth. It felt warm and slippery, like a tongue emerging from a mouth full of water.

She took a small sip and immediately felt a stream of water being squeezed out of her tentacles. This discovery made her eyes widen, and she swallowed it instinctively.

The water flowed over her parched throat, bringing an immediate sense of comfort and greatly relieving her pain.

She began to suckle hungrily, constantly extracting moisture from the tentacles. But no matter how much she drank, the tentacles never dried up; instead, they grew stronger and stronger, and even their shape gradually changed.

Sensing something was wrong, Sivir pulled it out and saw that it was indeed the shape she had imagined, giving her the immediate feeling that she had just been drinking urine.

"Aren't you disgusting?!" She gagged, tears welling up in her eyes from the Wild Hunt's perverse sense of humor.

Chapter 436 Sewer Cleaning Service

"Get that thing off me right now!" Sivir shook her hand forcefully; she didn't want a man's thing growing on her body—it was too disgusting.

"But I saw you sucking quite enthusiastically just now." Wild Hunt retracted its tentacles, unconcerned.

As the wound healed in her palm, but the purple mark remained, Sivir suddenly realized that she had become a vessel for the Wild Hunt.

These tentacles can grow back whenever he wants, and he will always be under his surveillance.

She suddenly felt a sense of despair. She had gone to such lengths to escape so far, but in the end, nothing could be changed. Her life was completely ruined!

Just when she thought she had hit rock bottom, a piercing howl suddenly came from the hot, dry wind, sending chills down her spine.

She immediately gripped her weapon tightly, and the next second a pack of hungry hunting dogs peered down from above the dunes.

Under the sunlight, Sivir could see the individual upright hairs on their bodies, the fleas clinging to them, and the rows of drooling, sharp teeth in their mouths.

"Oh dear, a pack of dune hounds. There's no way to escape now. Prepare for a desperate fight."

"Stop gloating. If I die here, this precious blood will just go to these wild dogs."

Sivir gritted her teeth; she'd rather face a pack of Sarnes than a pack of Dune Hounds. These pack animals were notoriously ferocious and incredibly resilient, and once they set their sights on a prey, they would hunt it to the death.