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Arcane: Champion Witness System

"Oh! So you're asking who I am?" "That's a good question, my friend!" He stood before her, spat out the yellow sand from his mouth, raised both hands shoulder-high, and proudly proclaimed, "I am a big shot in Zaun's Undercity, the ninth councilor of Piltover. I am the honored hero of Bilgewater." "What have I done?" "I once set fire to the Petricite Grove in Demacia and competed in height with the Yordles in Bandle City." "..." Standing in front of her, he spoke confidently. "And now, I've encountered you in the swirling sands of Shurima." "Alright, lady, I've said my piece. Could you please put away your weapon now?" ////This is a translation, I do not own this story or any character in it. The original author is [子梓木] ZiXingMu and the link to this book is https://www.69shuba.com/book/39724.htm Gonna update 1 or 2 chapters a day cuz I got another book I'm translating.////

TypicalFicEnjoyer6 · Video Games
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360 Chs

-228- Hot mead

In July, the continent of Valoran officially entered the hot summer season—

Even in the scorching summer, Freljord, this northern land, had not a hint of thaw in its frozen soil.

But while Freljord caused trouble for Demacia, in summer, it brought coolness to the territory of Demacia.

Near the farming town of Uwendale, nestled amidst the continuous snow-capped mountains, looking down from the mountaintops into the valleys, one might see smoke. At the southern border of Freljord, a small tribe had settled this year, making it their gathering place.

The best facility in this gathering place was a makeshift tavern.

In the icy expanse of Freljord, towns were scarce. Most of the time, the local people set up simple tents like this, adapting to the tribal living environment as the seasons changed. After all, not every tribe in Freljord had a connection with magic—food scarcity and warmth were both rare here.

The weak tribes had no place to settle; wherever they went, that was home. The Kolarisso tribe was one such tribe.

A weak tribe without magic was hard-pressed to survive in the harsh land of Freljord. Weak tribes would only be devoured by the stronger ones, but fortunately, Freljord had a kind and powerful tribe.

The legendary hero Avarosa had returned, and she and her tribe would unify Freljord, bringing food, hope, and warmth to the land.

When the Kolarisso people received this news, they hurried to the vicinity of the southern border, hoping to encounter Demacian merchants there for a good trade or perhaps for plunder.

Then, they would make their way to the central area of Freljord during summer, where the kind Avarosa would accept the goods they obtained through trade or plunder, and the Kolarisso tribe would merge into Avarosan tribe, seeking the protection of the strong.

At this moment, in the tavern of the Kolarisso tribe, a group of strangely dressed men pushed open the door and entered.

They were deemed strange because their clothes appeared bulky and thick, clearly not of Freljord craftsmanship—their sewing skills and materials were obvious giveaways. Most notably, it wasn't fur.

Wrapped in blue cloaks, they wore layer upon layer of clothing, making it clear to the locals that these people were not from Freljord.

"Boss, five cups of hot mead first, make them really hot, and then, give us some meat."

The leader spoke in a deep voice, lifting his thick felt hat as he revealed a dark face with wet white hair pulled back into a bundle. He extended his hand, removing his black leather gloves, and said loudly, "Barter, I understand your rules."

"I know who you are," the tavern owner, a tall man clad in what seemed to be a wild beast's fur coat, named Thores, said with a frown as he looked at the foreigners before him. "Outsiders, you've killed members of the Blackclaw tribe. You've messed with the wrong people."

"The Winter's Claw has issued a statement, the Blackclaw tribe will merge with them. You've killed their people. When the Winter's Claw tribe hears about this, they will find you and hang you from the trees."

"The Winter's Claw?" a tall, gaunt man with sunken eye sockets interjected.

"Never mind, why am I telling a dead man all this?" Thores suddenly shook his head, then bent down to find a black bottle next to the stove. He poured the liquor into clean cups washed with snow, filling them with the amber liquid, which looked very warm.

"Can you warm these up again for us?" the young man with white hair spoke up again.

"Warmth costs money too. First, tell me what you can offer me?" The tavern owner placed the cups in a row in front of them, speaking up. 

"Mr. Skite, bring out the wheat."

"Yes." The man with sunken eye sockets glanced at the tavern owner, then took off his backpack and pulled out a sack the size of a human head.

"A bag of high-quality wheat." Skite opened the mouth of the bag and placed it on the small table.

Thors looked over and, seeing the yellowed wheat, his eyes brightened, nodding, "There's a processing fee, but what about the drink money?"

"Don't worry, you'll be satisfied."

"Good, I trust you." Nodding, Thores lined up the cups, and poured the heated mead into them. The dark yellow color brightened up, and the steaming hot liquid eased Ekko's tension.

"Mr. Skite, is your shield still sufficient? If not, I can help you replace it with a new power source."

Ekko drank the warm mead. Back in Zaun, he didn't like alcohol, but now that he was here, in just a short month, Ekko had come to enjoy this drink.

In this cold, desolate place, alcohol was something that could warm people. Sometimes, it was even more precious than food.

"That would be best." Skite looked at Ekko and nodded. "And the others, I'll need your help with that too."

"No, no, it's not trouble." Ekko quickly shook his head.

Of course, it wasn't trouble.

Skite had been fighting with the enforcers against the people of Freljord these days.

Especially against the Blackclaw tribe mentioned by the tavern owner, a tribe of less than twenty people, which surprisingly had two mages!

The shield had lost energy in the battle against the Blackclaw tribe.

"But Ekko, I remember you mentioned reinforcements from Twin cities were coming?" Skite was also drinking the alcohol, which he would have disregarded before, but now it had become precious.

"Linwin said we should build a few more Hextech stations here and get to know a few more people from Freljord if possible. They could be useful."

"Setting up the Hextech stations means someone has to protect them," Skite chuckled bitterly. "Looks like we'll have to endure a lot more."

Ekko nodded and smiled.

Freljord was all white, but the towering Hextech stations were deep blue, appearing mysterious and noble. There was no reason for the people of Freljord not to come and see such a thing, which was also why Ekko and the others ended up fighting the Blackclaw tribe.

They repelled a dozen or so people and left six of them behind—four warriors and two mages.

Gunfire wasn't restricted in the icy wilderness, and the strong defense of the energy shield allowed the enforcers to not worry about their safety.

The energy shield... now thinking about it, this was truly the most powerful and practical thing Ekko had ever invented.

"But, who's coming?" Skite asked a crucial question.

The people coming must be enforcers, but who would lead the team?

"Linwin didn't say," Ekko continued. "He only said it's a good helper."

"Anyone will do," a young enforcer interjected, grumbling, "I just hope more relief comes soon so I can get a good night's sleep."

"Yeah, anyone will do," Skite nodded in agreement.