Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

The white hat on the old captain's head fell to the ground. He grabbed a chair and pressed it against the black wooden door. He usually liked this door so much, but now he doesn't care so much. He knew that it was of no use to the gang outside.

It's just a door, can it be possible to stop the madmen who came out of nowhere?

He turned to his desk, opened the drawer, and there lay a black pistol with a dull finish. The sound of bang bang outside the door kept coming, and a man rudely shouted through the door for him to come out quickly, threats and other words were indispensable. But the old captain didn't care, he grabbed the gun and pressed a button on the side.

In an instant, the black rectangular front tube of the iron ware was deformed and unfolded, bursting out with an attractive blue light in a humming sound. He gritted his teeth and aimed the iron in his hand at the door.

"boom!"

After a loud bang, not only the door he liked was gone. Even the position that used to be the office door disappeared. The lower body of two people stood outside the door, and their upper body had also disappeared. The old captain looked pale as their lower body swayed with the stubble of their spines exposed, and finally fell to the ground.

He gasped, overturned his desk, and hid behind. There were footsteps in the corridor outside. He clenched the dangerous weapon in his hand again and counted the footsteps. To his surprise, the footsteps were only one person.

And he walked unhurriedly, as if he wasn't here to kidnap the old captain or something, but for an outing.

"Oh, who designed this weapon? It's a good idea." A young man's voice came from outside the door, and the old captain cautiously retracted half his head, and saw a man in black robe watching with interest the weapon blasting out of his hand The ruins, fingers even touched the broken wood that was still bluish.

"Don't hide, Mr. Captain. I have no ill will towards you."

He said without raising his head, the captain was shocked, he quickly clenched the gun in his hand, and the blue light had dimmed a lot. He knew that the gun could fire once more.

"Who are you?!" the captain shouted, crouching behind his desk.

"Didn't we just meet two days ago? One of your passengers, I bought a ticket to board the boat." The man said with a smile.

The captain stuck out a small head again. He used the dim light in the corridor to carefully identify the man's identity, and finally breathed a sigh of relief. Indeed his passenger.

But it doesn't prove another thing.

The captain continued to shout, "How did you get here?!"

"Come over."

The corner of the old man's eyes twitched, of course he knew he was coming. But that's not what he asked, and the captain continued, "Sir! This is not the time for jokes! There's a bunch of gangsters out there trying to hijack this ship! How do I know you're not one of them?!"

"About this...I don't think you need to worry about them anymore," the man said slowly.

"what?"

"They're all dead."

After a moment.

The old captain looked at the mess in front of him, he couldn't help swallowing and looked away. For no other reason, he had never seen such a **** scene.

Dozens of sturdy men with steel knives all fell to the ground, with weird smiles on their faces. The knives in their hands were inserted either into their own bodies or into the bodies of their companions. The blood even meandered to his feet standing at the gate of this banquet hall.

"Sir... who the **** are you?"

Looking at the handsome oriental man beside him, he couldn't help but ask.

"Do you really want to know? Ha, I'm joking. Don't be nervous." The man looked back at him, his black eyes calm. The captain's heart suddenly burst, he just wanted to speak, the man responded with a happy smile.

"Just a little joke, don't worry about it. I'm your passenger, a traveler. It's that simple."

What traveler can do such a thing?

The captain is not stupid. He has traveled all over the world for so many years, and has met the mage and the practitioners of Ionia. I have also seen those assassins in the gutter and those huge sea beasts in the sea. Because of this, he knows very well that sometimes, if others don't want to reveal their identity, then it's best not to ask.

He was still dying.

He is fifty-three years old this year, which is just right for the profession of captain. Besides, this was the first time he took this ship to sea. He also intends to stay with the ship for a long time.

"How far are we from the Freljord?"

The captain's thoughts were interrupted by the man's sudden question. He frowned and thought for a while, then answered cautiously: "According to the scheduled route, we have reached Dornhold, and Demacia's is not far away. Forsboro, Frost Harbor is not far from Forsboro. That is to say, soon, sir."

He compared three fingers: "Up to three days."

"Very good." The man nodded and said, "I live in room 1327 on the second floor. Please notify me when you arrive."

three days later.

The captain wasn't lying, or he changed the course slightly. However, none of this has anything to do with He Shenyan. He walked over the thick planks that lay between the ship and the port, and set foot on the land of the Freljord.

Ningshuang Port is not so much a port as it is a temporary docking place. The man on the giant ship behind him put away the plank and slowly drove away. Most of the houses in Ningfrost Harbor are dilapidated, and the howling cold wind blows through the ruins, and the hollow echo and condensed frost welcome the arrival of the mage.

Apart from these, nothing else.

He walked past the ruins of houses, and the port town was empty and uninhabited. It was very quiet here, and there was some kind of seabird chirping not far away. He looked up, and a little snow fell from the sky, landing on his shoulders. The mage knew that his feelings were right.

Valoran was indeed invaded by the Void in more than one place.

Between those majestic white hills, somewhere hides the deepest, darkest secrets of this land. And much more than that. Flames, Thunder and Frost exist separately in this land, and the breath they exude makes He Shenyan smile, a living demigod...

It's a pity, if only one of them could take the initiative to tell me a story.

Some shook his head regretfully. It would be somewhat inappropriate if he took the initiative to study others. He is not an Ansa bandit, he went to the "New World" he discovered to sell his family to other places to pick cotton.

This port town has been abandoned for a long time, let alone people, he can't even see the trace of animals. He Shenyan walked along the road of the town, and glimpsed some of their architectural styles from the buildings that were still intact. Basically, there are animal horns hanging on the walls of every household, and the buildings are mostly made of logs and stones, which are not beautiful, but absolutely practical.

Lifting his head, the mage had a hunch. He's going to spend a long time here.

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Kedal carried a package and walked with difficulty in the ice and snow.

The land of the Freljord has never welcomed any human being, even if he is a native of the Freljord. He's not an iceborn, and he doesn't have that magical power that can coexist with frost. Therefore, he still wears a thick cotton coat.

After ten years in Ionia, Kedar was astonished to find that he was beginning to feel a little unsuited to the Freljord climate. However, although the cold wind was strong, it could not stop him from exercising the right of his will.

There is one thing he must accomplish.

After he left Ionia, he chose to travel by water to his homeland. But the Freljord has only two ports, one of which is long since abandoned. As a last resort, he chose to go through Noxus. The people there welcomed him as a tall, strong warrior, and on more than one occasion he was invited to join the Noxian army.

Kedar was not belligerent and had little interest in fighting for Noxus. He refused all of them, but for some reason the Noxians were extremely friendly to him, and he had no trouble at all along the way, returning to the Freljord very easily.

The destination of his trip was Aonkar Rock.

The road to that place is difficult, but every summer, when the weather is not so cold, large groups of tribes choose to go there the hard way. They will climb over the mountains to the Aonkar Rocks along the coast. Here, they can spend a relatively less difficult time. Here along the coast, the catch has been uninterrupted for hundreds of years, and fish was a great food option for the tribe when the waters thawed in the summer.

But they go there for more than one reason, there is another most important reason. There is Ornn's legendary abode.

Ornn, **** of lava and casting. The firstborn among the ancient demigods. Shaped the earth and brought the first snow. He lives in seclusion outside and doesn't interfere much in the world. A loner, with no distractions, only forging his own weapons wholeheartedly, refining this craft is more important to him than anything else.

And people's reverence for him comes from this, what Ornn forges, whether it's weapons, armor, or shields. All are priceless treasures. In the Freljord, weapons, armor, and shields are all things that survive. You can have no hair, no beard. You can even go without clothes, but you can't go without a weapon of your own.

Losing a weapon is the same as being unable to fight. And those who cannot fight, only die.

Kedar endured hunger, cold and sorrow. He stayed up all night and climbed over the mountains ahead. It's only two days away from Aonkar Rock, if he doesn't rest. Kedal pondered that he should be able to do it.

He found a rock and sat down. Unwrapping the package on his back, he took out a piece of frozen dried meat and ate it. This thing is as hard as a mallet, a hundred times harder than the underside of aristocratic gentlemen in many cities. Generally speaking, if there is a choice, Kedal will not choose to eat frozen meat like this, but he does not have a pot. In order not to slow down his speed, he brought nothing but dry food and a sword.

He tore the piece of frozen meat ferociously, like a direwolf who was not accepted by the clan competing for food with other predators. However, after just one bite, he grabbed the sword he had placed on his knees and stood up.

From the shadow of the snow-capped mountains, a person slowly walked out.

"Kedal Lo Darwell Winter's Claw..."

"How dare you come back?"

Kedar drew his long sword, threw the scabbard on the ground, and asked, "How did you find me?"

The man across from him had a large beard that was braided in intricate knots around his chin. Bald, extremely strong, with a huge axe that is constantly emitting cold air on his back. And in this bad weather, he didn't even wear a shirt, just showing his strong and naked chest.

Hearing this, he grinned: "Oh, Kedar. I didn't find you, it was the prophets of the tribe who found you. They predicted that you would come back a year ago, and for this, three of them died. However, I guess it's all worth it. Come on, if you can kill me, there'll be four more people waiting for you down the mountain."

He took out the giant axe behind him, held it in both hands, laughed and panted, and the white mist rose up: "You just need to kill me first."

The battle began in an instant.

The man let out a roar, he charged straight towards Kedar, and the axe slashed straight down. But even with such a move, Kedal, who had lost his armor and shield, couldn't take it hard, and he only had this sword in his hand. There was no way, he dodged sideways and began to seek opportunities in the fight.

The man laughed again, and Kedar saw his two sharp canine teeth: "You coward with a sword! Ah... did those warm-blooded people make you weak? Huh? I remember, you were us before. The most capable of using an axe."

He picked up the giant axe and put on a gesture of ease.

Kedal had to admit that even though he hadn't fought for ten years, he couldn't help but feel angry after seeing this look of contempt for him, and a corner of his head began to throb.

But he remained calm. "No one's blood is cold, Skhir. Your blood and the blood of warm-blooded people are hot."

"But your heart is cold."

Skhir nodded at him and spat in disdain, melting a pit in the snow.

He gritted his teeth and smiled, not knowing whether it was anger or sarcasm: "But your heart is cold, Kedar. Do you know why the tribes even sacrificed the death of three prophets to find your place? You know why they are willing to Entrust me with this axe? Because of you! You betrayal... Winter's Claw will not accept betrayal!"

Skhir grabbed the knife at his waist, and he cut two crossed scars on his chest, blood gushing out, forming marks on the snow with heat. He threw the knife aside, held the axe in both hands again, and shouted, "Come on!"

He charged again, the axe slashing towards Kedar's neck. The long sword couldn't stop the axe's attack, and Kedal didn't even need to think about it.

But he doesn't need to stop.

Kedar lowered his head and rushed into Skhirl's arms, stabbing his long sword towards his chest and abdomen.

The axe fell to the snow with a dull pop. Skhir fell to the ground, a sword stuck in his stomach, blood pouring out. After he succeeded, Kedal spun the blade and pierced his internal organs.

He is helpless.

Both of them knew this, and Skhir fell to the ground, laughing hoarsely: "It's still the same as before, Kedar. I still can't survive two moves under your hands."

Kedal stood beside him with a blank face, and there was no joy or sorrow in his tone: "There is progress."

"Ha, who are you kidding? I haven't touched you at all... It's always been like this, even the Iceborn can't hurt you. 'Warriors without scars'... ...Listen to your title, Kedar, how majestic."

Kedar knelt down and knelt beside Skhir, and he asked, "Sskhill Lo Darwell Winter's Claw... In the last moments of your life, do you have any wishes? "

Blood spilled from Skhir's mouth, dyeing his beard red: "No... no, it's good to see you, brother."

The lines of Kedal's face became tense, and he waited until his brother's breathing had completely disappeared before reaching out and closing his eyes, which were looking at the sky.

"Valhar, I pray to the snow, and I pray to you. May you bless his soul, and may he drink wine and fight in your palace." He closed his eyes, contrary to what he had never prayed to before, I prayed earnestly.

Moments later, he set off again, and the wind and snow would bury his brother's body. Like every Freljord, he was born in snow and died in snow. Carrying the giant axe, Kedar walked down the mountain.

His eyes kept flashing past events, and life in the tribe was never far from him, even when he fled himself. Like he killed his own brother.

Kedal stopped.

In front of him stood a warrior with a spear in one hand and a large shield in the other. He wore a heavy cast iron helmet, and his face could not be seen clearly.

The warrior's voice sounded dull in the wind: "Winter's Claw does not accept betrayal, Kedar. You should know that."

"Who's talking? Gomer, or Lindel?" Kedal asked loudly.

The soldier smiled grimly.

"You don't need to know who I am, Kedar. Either I die or you die. Simple."

He struck his shield with his spear and said succinctly, "Come on."

Kedar sighed~www.novelmt.com~ He charged up with the giant axe in one hand. The warrior calmly met his axe with his shield, and the spear stabbed slyly at his chest on the other end.

Who will win?

Blood dripped, and Kedal held the wooden shaft of the spear tightly in one hand, and the blade of the axe held in the other hand had penetrated deeply into the neck of the warrior. His shield failed to pass under the axe.

Kedar retracted his axe, and the warrior fell to his knees, tugging at his helmet feebly. Seeing what he was thinking, Kedal reached out and took off the horned cast iron helmet for him, revealing a face he was familiar with.

"...Sure enough, it's you, Lindell."

The man known as Lindell had a handsomeness that was rare among the Northlanders—delicately handsome, which was one of the reasons why he liked to wear a helmet. The Freljord found such looks unmanly.

Lindell smiled miserably: "Take my helmet, Kedar. I want it to witness your death, or someone else's."

Looking into Lindell's eyes, Kedal slowly put on the horn helmet: "...May you rest in peace, my brother."