Chapter 130

Gragas the Gragas.

"You slut who sells counterfeit alcohol, die!"

Gragas struck first, smashing the solid wood bar counter to pieces with a single punch—along with the bottles, glasses, and other items on it.

The troll boss, who was extremely stingy, immediately let out a wail and then angrily threw a punch.

"You'll pay me back with your life!"

Faced with the troll's Riot Games that everyone feared, Gragas remained calm and even disdainfully stepped forward to take the punch with his stomach.

Then...

Duang~~~

The incredibly thick layer of fat easily blocked the Riot Games, and the terrifying recoil even caused the troll boss to stumble and almost fall to the ground.

And this is just an appetizer.

"You bitch, behold my Body Slam!"

Gragas roared, puffed out his belly, and then leaped up at a speed far beyond his physique, crashing into his opponent.

Thump--!

With his weight of several hundred pounds and his sudden, powerful force, the troll boss was sent flying backwards, along with the shattered bar counter.

The enormous troll instantly fainted.

"Whoa--!" Gragas let out a triumphant shout.

But what he was completely unaware of was...

He knocked over all the tables and chairs around him during the fight.

Those drinkers who originally just wanted to quietly watch the show and enjoy their drinks were also affected.

Not only did they spill their wine, but their fur coats, which they relied on for survival, were also soaked.

And so, countless drinkers stood up angrily...

Chapter Seventeen: Sejuani Evolves, the Pig Girl!

Actually, Gragas isn't from Freljord either.

He was born in a small, nameless country further south, and grew up there.

Along with his growing physique came his insatiable fascination with alcohol.

For him, drinking was the only thing more important than fighting. He had an uncontrollable craving for stronger ale. Driven by this craving, he constantly searched for the strongest and most unusual ingredients to distill.

This impulsive, unpredictable, and boisterous drunkard's favorite activities were smashing Gragas and hitting his head. Thanks to his bizarre drinks and volatile temper, drinking with Gragas was always a dangerous proposition.

He had an unwavering love for fine spirits, but his enormous size always prevented him from entering that dreamlike state of intoxication. One night, as Gragas emptied all the Gragas and was still not satisfied, he was suddenly struck by an inspiration rather than a high stool: why not brew some spirits that would truly make him drunk? He then vowed to create the ultimate ale.

This audacious idea led him to the far north— Freljord.

In search of the purest polar water for the recipe, he ventured into the unexplored, frozen wasteland, sampling the finest brews of the Freljord along the way.

Sometimes, he is pleasantly surprised by the extremely cold and exquisite wines; but other times, he is enraged by unscrupulous merchants who try to pass off inferior goods as superior ones.

He's a reasonable person, but his Riot Games won't be used against unreasonable people.

He always made a ruckus after drinking heavily, but when he was sober, he was not a gentle and mild-mannered winemaker either.

He will take decisive action against unscrupulous merchants who sell counterfeit alcohol.

Like now.

He directly overturned a cunning troll's dilapidated tavern—after his attempts to "negotiate" with the other party had failed.

However, his reckless behavior also inadvertently offended many of the tavern's patrons.

Those who can drink and rest here are mostly not good people.

Rather than lecturing, they prefer to resolve disputes using the traditional Freljord method—the winner takes all.

"Hey! Fatty!" a slightly drunk, burly man shouted, "You're in trouble now—I guarantee you!"

Before Gragas could turn around and say anything, several more people stood up from their seats.

Most of them were well-known bounty hunters in the area, and there were even a few Iceborn mixed in—though their bloodline wasn't exactly pure.

"Money, clothes, and your life—choose two to keep," an Iceborn commanded, licking the last drop of wine from his glass, his tone brimming with arrogance and barbarity.

"Keep all three of them here!" another person shouted.

Seeing this, Gragas frowned, his tone displeased but still willing to reason. "I spilled your wine and got your clothes wet, I can pay for it. I have money."

"Looks like you still didn't understand what I said?" The Iceborn casually picked up a wine glass from the table, aiming it at the stout Gragas with a mocking expression—well, maybe he didn't even need to aim.

"We don't want you to pay us back, we want all the money you have on you."

"Oh, that sounds a bit unreasonable." Gragas's furrowed brows relaxed, as if he had found a better solution. "I'm in the wrong, and I'm willing to reason with you—but if you're not willing to reason with me, I'm willing to be unreasonable with you."

"The principle is to leave all the money and clothes behind, understand?" The Iceborn didn't take the other person's clenched Riot Games seriously at all, and the glass, still stained with a little wine, flew out of his hand.

The cup traced a graceful curve in the air.

Then, on Gragas's bald head, it turned into countless more beautiful fragments.

The last drops of red wine and shards of glass lay on the ground, each drop and each piece reflecting Gragas's increasingly contorted face.

"Human! Bomber! Charge!"

Chen Ce was somewhat helpless.

He had intended to ask the two patrons who had information about Aatrox, but Gragas' arrival shattered all his hopes.

The two men vanished the moment Gragas started fighting.

In just over ten minutes, the once-large tavern was almost reduced to ruins.

The patrons lay sprawled on the floor, tables, and chairs, their dazed or knocked-out state hardly different from that of someone who was drunk.

Clearly, Gragas was the one who stood until the very end.

He is a master brewer, but also a berserker—his strength surpasses that of any Iceborn.

Although his bald head was also bruised, he was still able to walk with a clear mind to the dilapidated bar counter.

He sat down casually next to Chen Ce —the only person still drinking in the tavern.

Although he is reckless, he would never beat up a passerby without reason.

On the contrary, he admired the courage and composure of the young man in front of him.

As well as...

He shares the same passion for alcohol.

"To be able to calmly drink under these circumstances... you must be quite the old drinker."

"Hmm, it's alright." Chen Ce took a small sip of the strong liquor called [Abyssal Dump], his expression calm on the surface, but he was speechless inside.

What do you think I'm drinking here for...?

But... never mind, it's best to cut your losses now...

"Are you looking for some kind of top-quality raw material for brewing?" he asked bluntly.

"Hmm?" Gragas was taken aback when he heard the question, and then he suddenly noticed a small detail that surprised him - the other person had not only sat there quietly the whole time, but had not spilled a drop of wine.

This is no ordinary young man...

Gragas's combat instincts allowed him to straighten his back, ready to re-enter battle mode at any moment.

However, Chen Ce had no intention of fighting him.

On the contrary, Chen Ce wanted to be friends with him—the benefits of which are self-evident.

"I've heard of you... Gragas, is that the name you're looking for?" Chen Ce swirled the contents of his glass again, but didn't drink any more—he really didn't like this cheap spirit mixed with other things. "Don't be nervous, I mean you any harm."

"Where have you heard of me?" Gragas wasn't overly excited, but he still cautiously kept a little distance.

"Over there, passersby."

"Passerby?"

"Lately, everyone's been saying that a master brewer is looking to find the perfect ingredients for brewing in the frozen tundra of Freljord —they all say he's hot-tempered, big, and has a pair of powerful Riot Games."

"Hmm..." Gragas nodded with some skepticism.

Then, Chen Ce added, "I know what raw materials you're looking for."

"Everyone knows that," Gragas scoffed. "'The purest polar water,' it's clearly written in the recipe."

"Have you heard of anything about 'the purest polar water'?"

"What do you mean?"

"The purest polar water," it also has another name—which is also little known, but is still recorded in some ancient books.

"You know?" Gragas's tone unconsciously became more respectful.

As long as it helps him brew an unparalleled wine, he'd jump into any danger, even if he knew it was a trap, regardless of the potential risks.

Tell me... what's that thing called?

"True Ice," Chen Ce said directly.

"True Ice? What's that?"

"A magical ice block that never melts... Perhaps I can find it for you—but it may take some time."

Others might not know much about True Ice, but Chen Ce knows it all too well.

The Lissandra Lissandra can use her powerful magic to create True Ice.

Beneath the Howling Abyss lie countless strands of True Ice.

Besides these two methods, there is another person who can also create True Ice.

Ashe, the successor of Avarosa.

Her Frost Crystal Longbow also possesses the ability to create True Ice.

However, she hasn't yet mastered that extremely advanced technique.

In the Rift, her ultimate skill— the Enchanted Crystal Arrow —is an arrow crafted from pure True Ice.

"How long...?" Gragas's breathing had become somewhat rapid. He couldn't wait to obtain the legendary "purest polar water" and then brew a barrel of unparalleled wine.

"It could take a few months, or at most a year and a half," Chen Ce said without hesitation, giving a rather conservative timeframe. "You can come with us during this period."

"You?"

"Yes, we are the Avarosan Tribe."

"This..."

"We are in dire need of a great winemaker."

"Hmm..." Gragas hesitated.

To be honest, he doesn't want to join any organization right now... he still needs to continue searching for the raw materials to brew fine wine.

True Ice is what he wants most right now, but it's not the only thing he wants.

To brew an exceptional wine, many unique and rare ingredients are needed.

"I'm sorry, I can't help you... I need to find other materials." After hesitating for a long time, Gragas finally shook his head apologetically. "But I'll come to you in a while—I can trade you something. Anything is fine."

This answer was somewhat unexpected for Chen Ce —he had thought that True Ice would be enough to attract this drunkard.

"But before I leave... perhaps I can give you some good wine as a gift." Gragas flashed another hearty smile. "It's all my carefully crafted wine, far superior to the fake wine of those wretched trolls."

As he spoke, he kicked the still unconscious troll boss again.

Having said that, Chen Ce didn't try to persuade him to stay any longer, and simply patted him on the shoulder in a friendly manner.

Clang--!

Heartsteel +1...