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Darius felt an indescribable pressure pressing on his entire body, coming from the massive and powerful body of Gragas, like an immovable mountain pressing down on him. His armor, forged from the hardest metal, now seemed fragile. What surprised him even more was that even in this extremely cold land, he could still feel a fierce body heat emanating from Gragas.
This heat was not just physical, but more like a spiritual passion and power, sharply contrasting with the frigid climate of Freljord, and causing Darius to feel a deep respect for this chief warrior of Freljord.
At this moment, Darius felt a surge of complex emotions. Involuntarily, he thought of Gragas and his almost wild fighting style, as well as his endless loyalty and deep affection for his land and people. All of this made Darius have to reevaluate this enemy. He was no longer just someone to conquer, but a warrior worthy of respect and learning from.
Even as an enemy, Darius had to admit that Gragas possessed a formidable strength and passion that he rarely encountered. A strange feeling welled up in his heart: under different circumstances, perhaps they could have become trustworthy comrades, or even friends.
However, reality is cruel. They are now enemies and must fight to the death on this icy land.
Gragas sat firmly on Darius' chest with his massive lower body, one hand gripping Darius' hands tightly like a pair of iron tongs, pressing them firmly against the icy ground above his head. His other hand tightly held the huge warhammer, suspended in the air, full of deadly threats, as if it could come crashing down at any moment, ending Darius' life.
Darius felt a heavy and oppressive force pressing down on him, coming from the immense body of Gragas, as if a small mountain was tightly pressing on him. Even wearing heavy armor, Darius could feel the intense body heat emanating from Gragas.
Darius's lower body began to shake violently, trying to use his body's strength to break free from Gragas's suppression. A flash of anger passed through his eyes as he loudly shouted at Gragas, "This is not the time to fight to the death! Can't you see this storm? This is a greater threat!"
However, Gragas seemed to turn a deaf ear to his words. There was only coldness and determination in his eyes, as if he already regarded Darius as a fallen corpse. A slight smirk appeared at the corner of his mouth.
"I won't let go of any opportunity to kill a Noxus general," Gragas responded coldly, "even if the heavens were to collapse, I will make you pay the price."
This sentence made Darius feel a sinking sensation in his heart. He knew that Gragas was a man of his word, and if they didn't find a solution quickly, he might very well die here. Various strategies and plans quickly flashed through his mind as he tried to find a way to escape this predicament. However, time waits for no one, and he had to make a choice, and it had to be now. Every second of delay could bring him closer to death, but he also knew that this moment's choice could potentially affect the entire battle, and even the fate of Noxus and Freljord.
Just as Darius and Gragas were reaching the tense climax of their struggle, both searching for that moment to deliver a fatal blow to the other, suddenly, the storm that had been raging for some time reached a whole new, unbelievably intense level. A violent gale, almost capable of tearing everything apart, swept across the ground as if an invisible giant hand had suddenly appeared and violently overturned Gragas who was straddling Darius.
At this moment, Darius felt the enormous weight pressing down on him disappear in an instant. His heart almost stopped beating in that moment, then suddenly accelerated as he realized this was a rare opportunity. He pushed against the ground with all his might, quickly sitting up and then using all his strength to kick Gragas, who was still tumbling in the air.
The power and precision of this kick were both at their peak, directly hitting Gragas in the abdomen. Gragas was sent flying by this sudden force, like a stone propelled by tremendous power, and landed heavily in the snowy ground several meters away.
Darius stood up, took a deep breath, trying to calm his rapid breathing caused by tension and combat. A glint of victory flashed in his eyes, but at that moment, he did not pursue Gragas. He glanced around and saw the raging storm had begun to blow soldiers and war machines into the sky. He realized that in the face of this sudden natural disaster, even the enemy was no longer the biggest threat.
He picked up the giant axe from the ground, turned around, and looked at the raging storm. A sense of calm and determination rose from the depths of his heart. He knew he had to find a way to end it all. Then, he made a decision, a decision he had never thought he would make in this situation - to retreat.
He turned and walked quickly in the direction away from the battlefield, each step landing heavily on the snow disturbed by the storm, echoing heavily. He didn't look back at Gragas or at the soldiers swallowed by the storm. He only knew that he had to survive and find a way to end it all.
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