Tryndamere

Ato walked across the frozen land, dragging a giant wild boar by its hind leg, with a pig's trotter in his hand.

He had landed on the eastern coast of Freljord and was heading west. As for the first person he planned to find, he had no idea where they were.

But Ato believed he must have a reason for coming to Runeterra.

Even if he wasn't as favored by nature as a Yordle, he would have his own unique path. For instance, he always seemed to encounter heroes from the game.

Not to mention that he had just encountered a Darkin Weapon upon arrival. Not long after gaining control of the weapon, he met Sarah while wandering around Bilgewater, and then he met Ryze, one of the important figures in Runeterra.

"So, Tryndamere, face me." Ato's mood was heavy.

In the harsh, food-scarce northern lands, Tryndamere and his people survived tenaciously.

He wasn't of noble Iceborn blood, only possessing an unparalleled, powerful physique.

In the original timeline, Aatrox had come to Freljord and nearly killed all of Tryndamere's kin.

This led Tryndamere, dragging his broken body, to search for a tribe that would accept him. As a result, he forged a blood oath with Ashe, the leader of the Avalosan tribe, becoming the protector of her and her tribe for life.

It was precisely because of Tryndamere's addition that the Avalosan tribe truly stabilized.

Perhaps because the boar's corpse was too gruesome, Ato encountered no other beast attacks along the way.

"To make Tryndamere and Ashe forge a blood oath, even if his people did nothing wrong, I must make Tryndamere hate me."

Wait, why was he having this thought? To ensure the world's progression, he had to treat the lives of innocent people as a normal cost?

Ato could treat those who attacked him as monsters. However, Tryndamere and his people were merely trying to survive. Was there no other way?

If it truly came to that, could he really go through with it?

Aatrox sensed Ato's inner turmoil and said in a strange tone, "How peculiar, Little Thing, you're troubled by something you can't figure out again?"

"If you can't figure it out, don't think about it. There's a saying in Shurima: 'When you're stuck in the desert, an oasis will surely await you.' If there's something you don't understand, think about it when the time comes!"

"...You're not acting as eccentric as people perceive you to be right now," Ato murmured. He would have to learn to conceal his emotions from now on.

He was just a young man with twenty to thirty years of life experience. Apart from his knowledge of Runeterra, he was no match for Aatrox, who had lived for thousands of years.

Being seen through felt terrible, especially by Aatrox.

The two followed a frozen river upstream, where ice floes mingled before eventually flowing into the sea.

After traveling across the ice field for more than half a day, night had already blanketed the sky. They could barely see the path ahead by the moonlight and starlight, which made Ato, accustomed to civilized society, very uncomfortable.

Just then, a cluster of firelight appeared in Ato's vision.

"If we can't find food soon, our clan will truly be finished! Tryndamere, that wasn't our god! It was just a beast! If it weren't for that thing, how could we be the only ones left?" a ragged, rough-looking barbarian lamented.

Tryndamere sat by the campfire, recalling the events of the past three days, disheartened by the foolishness of some of his kin.

And now, those foolish people were dead, slain by the fangs of a monster boar.

Besides himself, the eight people sitting or lying around the campfire were the last survivors of their clan.

The speaker was named Rugg. While not as strong as Tryndamere within the clan, he was still one of their powerful warriors.

Their clan worshipped that Giant Tusker Boar, calling it the Great Tusks Beast King.

It often roamed near the clan's territory, and over time, the ignorant tribesmen mistook it for an omnipotent deity.

Just a few days ago, the Giant Tusker Boar suddenly entered their territory. Instead of retreating, the tribesmen approached it, prostrated themselves, and begged for divine protection.

What the "god" gave them in return was sharp fangs and a territory reduced to ruins.

Countless tribesmen were crushed, and only Tryndamere, leading a few others, managed to escape with their lives.

They hadn't found food in three days. In their state of hunger and cold, people would soon die.

The climate of Freljord made grain cultivation difficult. Their food sources came mostly from hunting and the lucky gathering of edible wild grasses.

"If we have to, we can strip the bark from the pine trees and soak it in the river. It's better than starving to death."

Tryndamere's equally rough face was now covered in a thick beard.

That too was a dead end. Swallowing coarse bark would only provide temporary fullness. The inability to digest it could lead to illness, which would be fatal in the icy wilderness.

"Ornn, the oldest god of forging! Volibear, the most powerful god of strength! Anivia, the gentlest god of ice! Or the Frost Sisters! Any god will do, oh deities, please save our people!"

Rugg prostrated himself on the ground, calling out the names of all the known gods of Freljord.

At this point, he didn't care about piety. As long as it could save his people, he would even offer his soul to a demon!

Tryndamere looked helplessly at the near-collapsed Rugg, contemplating a way out of their predicament. The survivors were subtly beginning to look to him as their leader. He had to lead them out of this hardship.

Suddenly, a rustling sound reached their ears.

Those resting with their eyes closed by the campfire alertly got to their feet. Everyone remained silent, drawing closer to Tryndamere.

Many had despair in their eyes. Without food to replenish their strength, if they encountered another beast attack, how many more would die?

They could only hope that Tryndamere, the clan's bravest warrior, could drive off the beast.

The sound grew closer. Just as they were preparing to fight for their lives, they finally saw the appearance of the approaching figure. From the low bushes in the distance, a thin man in a black robe emerged.

"Not a beast?" Just as they were about to breathe a sigh of relief, they were then taken aback by the terrifying appearance of the giant sword behind the man.

Even Tryndamere's greatsword was smaller by a circumference than that giant sword!

The man took a few more steps forward, dragging a wild boar carcass about six to seven meters long, and completely emerged from the bushes. Tryndamere and the others completely forgot to breathe.

"It's been dragged for so long, the side of its skin that was touching the ground is worn through. But it's fine, there are natural refrigerators everywhere here, the meat can be preserved for a long time."

The man muttered to himself, and when he clearly saw everyone's faces, he showed a joyful expression again.

"I knew I'd run into someone just by walking around. Hi, hello, does anyone want to eat meat?"