let go of my anne

There was no light leaking in the large room. General Burnham sat in the dark, at the end of the chairman's table, propped his head, and did not speak.

He seemed to be meditating, but also seemed to be looking at the thick and inextricable darkness around him.

He looked into the darkness for a long time.

a long time.

A rustling sound sounded from the boundless darkness, the sound was fine and fast but also faintly sharp, that sharpness was different from the metal sharpness of a sword, it was more similar to those who quietly climbed up the treetops in the early spring night The frost on the tip of the leaf is full of an unstoppable and inexplicable benefit of the rules that should be so.

Then came the sound of footsteps, footsteps that were neither light nor heavy, they were neither covered by those subtle sounds, nor were they loud enough to shake the entire empty room, they sounded regularly, one step at a time fell on the obsidian On the floor, there were long and short echoes one after another, combined with those rustling sounds in the dark, like a dance song in a dark night.

A trace of inexplicable chill from the dance music climbed up the long long table. It spread from one end and eroded inch by inch to the other end, staining the jet-black armor of General Burnham with a thin layer of frost.

General Burnham remained motionless. He looked into the darkness and continued to say nothing, as if interested.

The sound of the accompaniment in the dark night gradually became louder, and those rustling sounds had evolved into a slightly harsh rattling sound, and they began to roar in the entire large and dark room, as if the dance music had reached its peak.

The cold air became more and more serious, and the entire long table was covered with frost. General Burnham's jet-black full-body armor had even formed fine ice flakes, and those frost flakes continued to grow on the armor like snakes. Congealed, making a harsh rattling sound.

General Burnham still didn't move, he didn't seem to care about the cold air that was about to freeze him into an ice sculpture, he even smiled, he smiled slightly.

The laughter was very soft, but it echoed throughout the empty room, suppressing the footsteps and rustling sounds at once.

The rustling stopped abruptly, and the footsteps also disappeared, like a sudden stop in a song.

But the sound only stopped for a moment. After two breaths, General Burnham's laughter was completely covered up, and he played again with a sound that was many times stronger than before.

This time, it is no longer rustling, it is high-pitched like 1 demons from hell are gnawing on the hard skull, they roared in the whole room like a tide, and the footsteps in the roar were as loud as The bitterest wind of the deepest night in the Freljord.

The cold wind whizzed past, and solid ice unscrupulously surged out of the darkness like a tide and swallowed the entire long table, and finally, in response to the raging dance music, General Burnham was completely frozen.

The cold wind stopped suddenly, and the footsteps stopped suddenly.

The entire large and empty room suddenly lost all sound, the song ended, but even the slightest lingering sound was swallowed by the cold.

The entire room was completely frozen, even the darkness was frozen, as if entering the legendary ice and snow age where everything was dead.

After a long time, a hand touched the seat at the other end of the chairman's table.

It was an arm that was shining brightly even in such darkness, wisps of light blue cold light wandered on the surface of its skin, as if what flowed in this arm was no longer blood, but ice and snow.

Bingxue's arms pulled away the completely frozen seat, making a piercing sound of cracking ice, breaking the long loneliness.

A woman sat in that seat.

It was a woman whose whole body was shining like her arms, and ice and snow flowed in every inch of her blood vessels. She was sitting there, holding a delicate sleeping little girl in her arms, with a smile on her face, Neither flattering nor enchanting, very much like the peerless famous painting "The Virgin" that once sold for a sky-high price in the auction house of Zhanzheng College.

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"Pfft-"

The tidal wave of Noxus soldiers finally rushed to the exit of the cramped tunnel of hell, and slammed into the first group of coalition soldiers who hurried over to block the mouth of the canyon. The loud voice overwhelmed the boundless shouts of killing, echoing over the entire canyon.

The blood burst out all of a sudden, splashing all over the face of the men facing each other. They roared loudly and gritted their teeth against the sword in their bodies in pain and death. The help of the same robe slammed into it fiercely again.

"Pfft—" The swords completely sank into their bodies, and the two sides collided fiercely again, but due to the lack of preparation on the coalition side, the menacing Noxus took advantage of them hastily. A crack was forced out by them, and dozens of Noxus rushed out immediately.

However, the reaction of the coalition forces was not slow. Almost at the moment when the crack was formed, more people rushed up from behind, and some Demacia soldiers held large shields to block the front line. Dozens of Noxians who rushed out were quickly massed and killed.

Galen glanced at the front line and heaved a sigh of relief. This first wave of impact was the most difficult to block, because the opponent continued to charge out from inside, and it was such a cramped environment, there was no way to borrow that momentum. It is incomparable to the strength of our own troops, but fortunately that canyon is too narrow, even if we rush out of the gap, it is impossible to export many people at a time.

After passing the first wave, the subsequent tug-of-war will be much easier.

Thinking in this way, his eyes once again returned to the hand that broke through the snow a moment ago.

At this moment, the second hand has stretched out from the snow.

A dozen Demacian soldiers surrounded the man without waiting for Galen's order, and silently drew the great sword around his waist.

Judging from these hands, the thick joints and palms should be a man, and the calluses on the palms can be seen as a warrior, so it can only be Tryndamere or... Olaf.

It's just that Tryndamere and Olaf are both famous for their bravery, and it's impossible to tell which one it is for a while.

If it's Olaf...

Galen glanced at the dozen or so Demacian soldiers. Although he seemed to have drawn a tie with Olaf, Galen knew that he had lost, and his injuries must be lighter than his own. ...

"Kacha..." Before Galen could finish thinking about it, a head rushed out from the snow behind him.

Tryndamere shook the snowflakes all over his face, looking at the long swords all over the sky, he couldn't laugh or cry: "Are you trying to kill me?"

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I didn't want to talk at first, but I've been really hesitant recently.

Give some recommendation tickets to support.