In the northwest of Nashramé, in a high tower on a hidden clifftop.
In the room on the top floor of the tower, winding and stacked bookshelves filled the already small space. Wooden scrolls of various styles, old and yellowed loose-leaf books, and a large number of books were the only things in the room.
A sturdy figure with skin the color of obsidian and a body at least two meters tall sat cross-legged quietly.
His face was hidden in the shadow of his tattered hooded robe, and he was hunched over, letting out a long, low sigh from time to time.
As the night deepened, he slowly stood up with his legs twisted at a strange angle compared to an ordinary person's, walked to the window sill of the room, and looked up at the starry sky.
Astrology, a form of divination magic that only a very small number of magical geniuses can fully master.
His originally scarlet eyes emitted a dark purple magical light, and the colorful constellations in the sky suddenly changed in his eyes, turning into another appearance.
Suddenly, he noticed something unusual about the stars. "...What is this?!"
He stretched out his fingers, which were wrapped in bandages like a leper or a mummy. The surging magic power, which was sparkling with tiny points of light, gathered at his fingertips, forming a grand star pattern.
The cool breeze blowing into the room through the windowsill blew away the hood on his head, revealing his complete jackal-headed appearance.
He is Nasus, the lost son of the desert, the university student who founded and presided over the Great Library of Shurima.
"The giant snake bites its tail, the fate is cyclical... Renekton, my brother, and Xerath..." Nasus gasped.
But before he could make further divination, the stars in the night sky suddenly changed again, and a beam of light shot from the sky to the center of the desert.
Nasus' eyes flashed with shock, and he couldn't help shouting in a hoarse, low voice: "This, this is impossible!"
He hurried through the piles of books, pushed open the shabby door of the room, and ran down the winding and dilapidated stone stairs to the tower.
How many years has it been since the last time you came outside?
Ten or twenty years?
Or maybe decades...
I can't remember.
However, Nasus still remembered the arcane mage with purple skin who was dedicated to collecting and sealing the world runes.
I wonder how his journey went?
Nasus shook his head, putting aside the fleeting memories of his past.
Now is not the time to think about these things.
Nasus narrowed his scarlet eyes slightly and looked into the distance.
It is the center of the desert, in the direction of the original capital of the Shurima Empire - the City of the Sun.
Suddenly, a throbbing feeling of blood connection flashed through his heart.
Nasus couldn't hide the shock and joy in his eyes, "Rekton... you actually came out..."
But soon, the joy in his heart was replaced by deep worry.
Renekton and Xerath remained in the dark and sunless imperial tombs for thousands of years.
Is he really still the same person...
Before Nasus could be depressed for too long, a long-lost power suddenly flowed into his body.
He could feel that his ascended body was once again bathed in a gentle and endless sea of magic.
Nasus's expression grew even more shocked. "This power... is the Sun Disc!"
His fingers were clenched tightly together, and there was a crackling sound between his bones.
After standing silently in the night wind for a long time, Nasus hurried back to the tower and took out a "cane" that was also wrapped with cloth strips, and the wide top was also wrapped in rags.
After closing the tower door that ordinary people could not open, Nasus took a deep breath and walked along the cliff towards the foot of the mountain.
This time, he won't make the same mistake again.
…
…
In the far northern polar region, there is severe cold and biting icy snow.
A four or five-meter-tall, hideous-looking monster made of scarlet flesh and blood wantonly slaughtered a small tribe of dozens of people.
"Yes, yes! Scream! Hahahaha..."
The bladeless giant sword in his hand seemed like some kind of corrupted evil object. The sharp edges of the obsidian were like the incarnation of the devil and were stained with blood.
An evil orange-red light shone from the center of the giant sword. At the junction of the hilt and the sword, a core like a heart was beating wildly, resonating with the entire sword.
With the nourishment of every drop of blood and every bit of flesh, the rhythm of the giant sword's beating becomes stronger and stronger.
The sounds of screaming, wailing and roaring were endless.
But he enjoyed it all, enjoyed the pleasure of killing and absorbing flesh and blood to strengthen himself.
"I am Aatrox, I am the terminator of the world!" He raised his sword and laughed wildly at the same time. His powerful spirit seemed to be able to shake the mountains and rivers.
"You demon! You will be cursed! The great mammoth will not let you go!" A warrior who was stepped on by Aatrox uttered the last curse.
"Mammoth? Hahahaha?"
Aatrox exerted a slight pressure with his foot, crushing his bones and absorbing his flesh into a crude imitation of the ascended body he had striven to reshape into a reflection of his former glory.
"Your God is afraid of me!" he snorted coldly with disdain.
Then, the pair of scarlet eyes looked at the five priests at the tribal totem altar who were summoning the mammoth spirit.
Aatrox grinned. "Otherwise, why hasn't your god appeared yet?"
He raised his greatsword and leaped forward to charge.
The obsidian-hard giant sword swiftly cut through the air, cutting forward horizontally at a delicate angle, taking the lives of five priests at the same time and sucking their flesh and blood into the giant sword.
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