Capítulo 331: -324- Darius and Fiora
On the fifteenth day of January, year 986, nearing dinnertime in the bustling district of Piltover.
A high-end restaurant in the central area of Piltover, temporarily requisitioned by Piltover's councilors, had been transformed into a cafeteria serving meals to all foreigners—
At this moment, in a corner of the second-floor hall of this upscale restaurant, a man with short sleeves, revealing sturdy arms and large muscle masses on his back, was raising a glass. In front of him lay not only a plate filled with food but also a large album.
He stood nearly two meters tall, to be precise, one meter and ninety-six centimeters, with a weight exceeding one hundred kilograms.
Sitting there hunched over, from behind, he looked like a gray bear perched on a small iron stool.
His black hair was casually scattered, with a few strands covering one eye, along with a terrifying scar running across his eyebrow and eye.
He was Darius, the commander of the Trifarix Legion, one of the three members of the empire's Trifarix Council.
And now, he was just an athlete from Noxus participating in the Twin Cities Games.
Although he didn't understand why Swain wanted him to accompany Draven to the Twin Cities to participate in the Games, Darius hadn't even figured out how to face Swain himself.
But this was good news. At least, he could temporarily get away from Noxus, away from the nobles' nagging, and away from having to see Swain's face.
Learning of Darkwill's death back when he was in Freljord filled Darius's heart with mixed feelings.
As Darkwill's general, as the hand of Darkwill, he should avenge him. His emperor died in a rebellion, which shouldn't have happened.
But the events in Freljord made Darius feel weary.
He fought fiercely against the barbarians of the North, faced perilous situations in the icy wilderness, and experienced multiple assassinations and ambushes.
He had even been captured by the Winter's Claw tribe, only to escape with the strength of his powerful will.
But no matter how strong one's heart is, in a war without direction, without a goal, and in endless attrition, it eventually stops beating.
This was a war without direction, a war that shouldn't have happened.
Noxians were warlike, but every war was for survival, for food, for territory, for life!
But in recent years, they fought in the North against Freljord, in the South against Shurima, in the East against Ionia, and in the West against Demacia.
All because of the emperor's selfishness.
Because of Darkwill's dream of immortality, Noxus regressed by a hundred years!
After figuring out everything, Darius began to feel tired of this aggressive war, the first time he felt weary of war since joining the army at the age of twelve.
"The taste is really good."
Drinking wine and eating fragrant braised beef, Darius had eaten this kind of beef before, it's the Elnuk of Freljord, an exceptionally delicious type of cattle.
But the taste produced by the Twin Cities was even better.
The beef was so tender and flavorful, with the sauce perfectly matching Darius's taste—a rich sauce aroma with a hint of spiciness.
This was Darius's favorite taste.
"Brother, stop looking at that useless stuff and let's go have some fun, huh?"
As Darius ate and looked at the rules of the weightlifting event, a voice sounded behind him.
Hearing this slightly hoarse, wolf-like voice, Darius didn't turn around.
"Don't forget your mission, Draven."
The newcomer was short but sturdy, with long hair and a very strange beard.
This beard made him look older than he actually was, but in reality, he was still just a young man.
"Dealing with these people, victories can be easily won, what are you worried about?"
Draven glanced around and saw someone frowning, so he grinned at them, showing his teeth.
That person frowned and turned his gaze away.
This guy is a mad dog!
"Coward!"
With a laugh, Draven sat down next to Darius.
The two brothers sat together. Although Draven was short but strong, sitting next to Darius now made him look underdeveloped.
"Last time, we already clashed with Demacia because of you, Draven, it's not the time now," Darius raised his glass and took a sip, saying.
"Swain's orders, Noxus is now entering a period of comprehensive ceasefire, you know what's appropriate," Darius said seriously.
Darius had always admired Swain.
When Swain was dismissed due to failure in Ionia, Darius even openly opposed Darkwill's orders.
In fact, these days, Darius had found his direction.
He was not a coward, but when facing Swain, he couldn't muster the thought of avenging Darkwill.
Was it because he forgot his roots? No, that's not it, he deeply loved Noxus.
He had sworn allegiance to Noxus, and now thinking about it, his loyalty to Noxus wasn't loyalty to a specific ruler.
But now, facing Swain, the usurper, Darius suddenly realized that Swain was the leader he was destined to follow, except Swain seemed to have his own plans.
He didn't become the emperor, instead, he delegated great power to Darius, standing by his side.
"What's there to fear, brother? Even if we brawl with them here, will they be able to launch an attack on us once they go back?" Draven was a fun-loving person, always afraid that the world wouldn't be chaotic enough.
His greatest pleasure was watching fighters battle it out in the arena.
And now, his greatest joy was to engage in a brawl with Demacia or other countries, preferably a group fight.
"We've invaded Demacia multiple times, every time we take a piece of land, their response is just pushing us back," Draven said, chuckling. "They're nothing but a bunch of iron turtles!"
"Bastard!"
The man who Draven called a coward earlier suddenly stood up.
"What? You got a problem, punk?" Draven raised an eyebrow, then smirked.
"Sit down!" Darius immediately reached out his large hand and grabbed Draven's arm without even turning his head.
"Lucky for you," Draven grinned at the man.
Hearing Draven's words, Darius squeezed Draven's hand tighter.
"Bro, if a fight breaks out, it's because they initiated it," Draven said with a grin.
He wasn't as reckless as he seemed. In fact, Draven was a very smart person.
Darius had lamented more than once that Draven wouldn't become a soldier.
His brother's intelligence and strength had never been used in the right way.
"Take back what you just said!"
A soldier from Demacia approached, followed by three Dauntless Vanguard soldiers.
They were all strong and spirited soldiers.
"What did I say?" Draven turned his head, blurting out.
"You, you said we're iron—!" The soldier bit his tongue halfway through realizing his mistake.
With a clenched fist, he swung a heavy punch.
Draven immediately exclaimed excitedly:
"Haha! Finally, some action."
Halfway through his shout, Draven suddenly stopped, then reluctantly sat back down.
Since she appeared, the fight couldn't happen anymore.
A woman appeared behind the soldier at some point and extended her foot, hooking onto the left leg of the soldier about to throw a punch, forcing him to halt.
"Tsk!" Draven spat as he sat down again, muttering under his breath, "Damn woman."
"Ill-mannered beast," Fiora sneered, giving Draven a disdainful glance, then loudly retorted.
Then, she walked past Darius and Draven.
"Everyone, go back, don't cause trouble for our allies."
"Yes, Fiora."
Several people immediately nodded.
Although they were Dauntless Vanguard, the most elite soldiers of Demacia.
But the woman in front of them was just in her twenties and already hailed as the strongest duelist, the Grand Duelist, Fiora Laurent.
"Hey, if we had started the fight just now, do you think the two of us could have taken on all five of them?" Draven leaned close to Darius, asking quietly.
The woman called him a beast, and he didn't retort because, in essence, he was afraid of getting beaten up.
After all, Draven was in the business of the arena, and he knew—Fiora's name represented something in that circle.
Even in the incredibly powerful Demacia, she was among the best.
Draven wasn't a reckless person; if he couldn't win, he'd run. That was his life motto.
His belief was completely different from Darius's. The two brothers were really different types of people.
After hearing Draven's words, a hint of seriousness flashed across Darius's face.
When she walked past him, Darius sensed the aura of a strong individual.
An extremely dangerous aura.
"In the arena, she wins, I lose. On the battlefield, I can make sure she dies with me," Darius finally said after much hesitation.
Status de energia semanal
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