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墨書 Inktalez
LeBlanc stood in the dark room of the high tower, her gaze sharp as she stared at the projection of Lissandra. "Mighty ancient witch, I did not come here to witness your amusing raven tricks," her voice was full of sarcasm and disdain.
LeBlanc began to pace around the room, her steps firm and powerful, each one seeming to calculate something. As she walked, she twisted her fingers as if counting off important matters.
"Here's the deal: I bring you a batch of troops, and all you need to do is use your great power to give me one person's head." She paused, turned around, and stared sharply at the projection of Lissandra.
"Our mighty Noxus strength, Darius," LeBlanc's voice became deep and cold, with a hint of cunning and calculation flashing in her eyes.
Lissandra's projection trembled slightly, and a hint of imperceptible hesitation flashed in her eyes. Then, she sneered, "Do you really think Darius is so easy to deal with? He is a general of Noxus, an extremely powerful and cunning enemy."
LeBlanc smiled faintly, "That's exactly why I want him. A powerful enemy can make me even stronger."
The two people's eyes met again, and at that moment, the air seemed to freeze, filled with an indescribable tension and anticipation. This transaction was not just a simple exchange, but also a struggle and calculation between two powerful forces, and all of this was just the prelude to this great battle.
Lissandra Coldly raised her hand, and a crow formed by frost magic flew to her, landing on her snow-white palm. The crow's eyes seemed to reveal a desire for instruction, twisting its body on her hand as if waiting for some kind of command.
"This transaction, you're only responsible for bringing people over. The rest, I'm handling." Lissandra's voice was filled with dissatisfaction and anger, her cold gaze shooting directly at LeBlanc through the projection.
Then, she forcefully squeezed the frosty crow in her hand. The crow instantly burst open, turning into images of battlefields. In these images, Darius and Gragas were standing on a snow-covered land, their fists tightly clenched, their faces filled with determination and passion, fiercely fighting each other.
LeBlanc looked at the scene, with a slight smile forming at the corner of her mouth, creating a smug and confident smile. "The capable should work hard," she replied to Lissandra, her voice filled with a kind of disdainful sarcasm.
A hint of displeasure flashed in Lissandra's eyes, but she quickly suppressed this emotion. Her voice became more stern: "You'd better make sure your part is flawless, otherwise this deal won't end well for you."
LeBlanc Hearing this, his smile became even more pronounced, almost to the point of arrogance. "Don't worry, I never do anything without confidence. You should know, I always find a way to make things go my way."
Their eyes met once again, this time filled with various indescribable meanings. This trade, this game, is far from over. What will happen next is full of unknowns and variables, but both of them understand that this is what makes everything more exciting and dangerous.
Lissandra gently bent her fingers, and the images of the battlefield immediately magnified before her, with every tiny detail becoming clear. The storm raged on the battlefield like an enraged beast, roaring and tearing apart everything in its path.
Darius and Gragas stood in the eye of the storm, their faces smeared with exhaustion and determination, almost unrecognizable as human. Their fists clenched tightly, their gazes intertwined, silently conveying some unfathomable belief and vow.
Lissandra's fingers lifted slightly, as if conducting an incredible symphony.
A huge rock was lifted by the power of the storm, drawing a perfect arc in the air, and then smashed towards Darius and Gragas with an unstoppable force. The two were about to strike the final blow but couldn't react in time, only able to watch helplessly as the giant rock came crashing down like the scythe of fate.
Shortly after, there was a deafening roar.
The giant rocks shattered, and fragments scattered in all directions. Darius and Gragas both fell under these shattered stones. Their bodies seemed to be crushed by an invisible giant hand, unable to move at all.
Lissandra shifted her gaze from the dramatic scene to the projection of LeBlanc. A hint of satisfaction and mockery flashed in her eyes, as if to say, "See, this is what I can do."
"Are you satisfied?" Lissandra asked in a playful tone, her voice filled with a sense of self-assuredness and superiority.
LeBlanc stood in the dark room of the high tower, her purple eyes carefully observing every move of Lissandra through the projection. Then she smiled slightly, a hint of suspicion barely detectable at the corner of her mouth.
"The power of the ancient witch is indeed extraordinary," she said slowly, each word filled with hidden implications, "But you should also be aware that all of this is built on the premise that Darius must die. And now, his fate is still uncertain."
Lissandra After hearing this, a disdainful snort escaped from her mouth. With a light flick of her fingers, the surveillance screen immediately shrank, refocusing on the full view of the battlefield. There, the soldiers who had just been full of vitality and fighting spirit had been swept away by the icy storm she controlled, leaving only a ground of corpses and shattered armor.
"You worry too much," Lissandra said coldly, her voice as indifferent as if it had come from a glacier. With another light wave of her fingers, a cold beam of light shot out from her fingertips.
Those soldiers who fell on the battlefield, after being illuminated by this light, stood up one by one. But they were no longer the energetic and lively soldiers they were before, but had turned into Lissandra's ice puppets. The eyes of these puppets emitted a cold blue light, as if they were the embodiment of Lissandra's will and power.
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