Garen tiptoed back to the place where Leona and the others were, but realized that all the Dragon Whelps had gone out to grab a share of the spoils.
He was in no hurry, either. It would be even better if he could just pick up his share after they had finished fighting.
He hid alone in the corner and listened to the endless barrage of loud wails and explosions inside, knowing that this was the Spellcraft explosions from the Enchanted Equipment.
Time ticked by, and soon enough, more than ten minutes had passed.
The sounds from up ahead were much softer now.
Only then did he get up. Having sufficiently rested, he walked slowly toward the battlefield up ahead.
As he moved forward, he saw red and white blood all over the snowy ground, and he accidentally stepped on something. It was the front limb of a Dragon Whelp that had already frozen into ice.
"How terrible…" Garen shook his head.