League of Legends

Chapter 806 Revenge Flame Soul
Standing in front of everyone was a bald man with a huge scroll of runes tied to his back, his whole body and even his scalp were covered with runes flowing with faint blue light.

Ryze!

It's Ryze!
He was just like that, holding the long string of huge fireballs with one hand, staring coldly at the opposite man who was covered in flames, with anger in his eyes, and...sorrow...

"Enough! Have you really forgotten your mission!"

Ryze spoke in a cold tone, with a kind of shocking power.

On the opposite side, the man who called himself Brand and was covered in flames was stunned. He looked straight at Ryze, and something seemed to flow from his eyes.

"Master... Master..."

master?

Ye Liangchen and Fiona looked at Ruiz in surprise, the other girls were also full of curiosity, only Xiaonu and Nini seemed to know it beforehand.

Ryze turned out to be the master of this strong guy?
……

Keegan, a young man.

"I can not do it."

When he said this, Kegan felt his tongue was stiff, but he still said it: "Master, I can't do it."

fail...fail...

Who could have imagined that failure would be so grueling?Moreover, it will continue to fail like this.

Kegan looked at the old man opposite, trying to see if there was sympathy in his eyes, and as he thought, he saw it, but it made him feel even more disgusted.

The voice of the old man had a light tone from afar, like a minstrel.

"It has nothing to do with whether you can do it or not, it's what you have to do."

The old man snapped his fingers, purple light flashed, and the dead branches on the ground ignited, forming a campfire.

Rune Magic!This is the power of magic.

And this is what Kegan can't do. Even with such a powerful master, he still can't master the rune magic.

Kegan turned his head away and spat into the snow.

In his youth, he still has a mischievous heart.

He has already heard what the master said many times, but as always, it is like nonsense: "It's easy for you to say..."

The old man shrugged: "It should be said that it is simple, but not easy. These are two concepts."

Kegan looked at the old man, and subconsciously touched the burn scar on his face: "There must be another way, there must be."

Kegan firmly believed that there must be other ways for him to cast magic.

"Why?" The old man looked at Kegan: "Why do you think there is another way? Is it because you keep failing?"

Kegan whispered, "Only a coward would answer a question with a question."

The old man raised his eyebrows: "A savage, illiterate, can't count numbers above ten, but can speak some clever words."

The two showed a smirk at the same time, and the atmosphere in the camp eased down.

Kegan was indeed a barbarian, a barbarian of the Freljord.

Of course, he is not a tribe of barbarians, but to people outside the ice field, the people of Freljord are all barbarians, who only know how to ride around on snow wolves howling and running around.

On the campfire, a pot was set up, and soup was boiling on it.

Above them, a rippling light glowed over the ice fields.

Kegan looked at the familiar spectacle above his head. Although he was tired of seeing such a spectacle, and he was full of contempt for the land of the frozen tundra, he still felt that such a scene was very beautiful, and he could see it simply by looking up.

"The sprites danced a lot tonight," Keegan said.

The old man looked at the sky with weird eyes: "You mean the aurora? It wasn't done by elves, it was just the solar wind acting on the sky..."

Kegan stared at the old man as he spoke.

Finally, the old man's voice weakened and his voice became stiff: "It's nothing."

The master and apprentice fell silent again. Kegan took a small knife from his belt and carved on a piece of unburned wood.The hands that once ignited the flames and crushed people's lives now have a much more peaceful purpose.

The old man looked at Kegan: "I want you to take a breath."

Keegan still engraved on the wood chip: "I've been breathing."

The old man shook his head and sighed: "You... don't be so... stupid."

"what?"

The old man hesitated for a moment: "Forget it, pretend I didn't say it. I want you to take a breath and hold it as long as possible."

"why?"

The old man didn't answer.

Kegan threw the splinter into the fire and shoved the knife back into its sheath: "Okay."

Then, Kegan took a deep breath, held his breath and looked at the old man quietly, not knowing what to do next.

"The air you breathe in is not what you create in your body," said the old man. "You breathe it in and let it keep you alive. It's there when your body needs it, and it's there when you breathe out." It will release it again, the air has never belonged to you, you are only its container, you breathe in, you breathe out, you are the channel through which the air flows."

Kegan tried to relieve himself, but the old man shook his head at him.

"No, it's not enough." The old man said, "Feel the air in your lungs, feel it breaking through the cage of your body, feel its desire to escape."

Kegan's face was flushed, he couldn't speak, his eyes were full of doubts.

"Keep holding back."

After Kegan's stamina ran out, his competitive spirit surged and kept him going for a while.When his competitive heart began to waver with the pain in his chest, the rest was pure stubbornness.He trembled all over, staring at the old man like a knife.

He knew that this must be testing him, and he knew that he had to prove something, even if he didn't know what it was.

His vision became foggy, and his pulse beat rhythmically to his ears.

Finally, the inhaled air burst out, returning to the cool night breeze.

Kegan collapsed to the ground, panting.

At this moment, he was like a wolf, guarding against any crisis that would come when he was weak.

The old man looked at Kegan and muttered, "I'm still wondering if you'll suffocate yourself."

Kegan grinned and hit his chest with a fist, signaling that he was very strong.

Yes, Kegan at that time was very strong, just like other barbarians on the ice field.

"That's the problem." The old man said: "I said that the air does not belong to you, but you feel that the longer you can hold the air in yourself, the more proud you are. The same is true for magic. You long for magic and think it can You cling to what you think you have, but you forget that you are just a channel through which magic flows. You block it in your heart and choke it in your hands, and the magic is suffocated. Because you regard magic as something that can be heard Something you dispatched. And you were wrong, dead wrong. Magic is like air, you have to welcome the magic around you, borrow it, and return it."

The two fell into silence again.

The old man looked at Kegan, who was thinking about what the old man said.

After a long time, Kegan looked at the old man: "Can't you just say these words? Why do you want me to hold my breath?"

"I said it .

Kegan snorted and stared back at the campfire, seemingly talking to himself.

"Master, there is always something that I can't let go of recently."

The old man knew what Kegan was talking about, and patted the scroll on his back: "No, Kegan, I can't let you read it."

Kegan smiled, but his eyes were full of smiles: "That's not what I want to ask, what I want to ask is, is it possible that I am not actually a bad apprentice, but you are a bad teacher?"

The old man stared at the flames with tiredness in his eyes.

After a long time, the old man said: "I sometimes have such doubts."

(End of this chapter)