[A few years ago, Shadow Isle]

Am I dead?

He slowly opened his eyes, like a person who had been in a dark cave for a long time, but fortunately the light here was weak, the sky was overcast, and the four fields were gray. Pen % fun % Pavilion www.biquge.info

The feeling at the moment of dying was the clearest, it was a strong survival instinct, urging him to do something, but his consciousness was suddenly sucked by some force, and when he opened his eyes again, he saw the current situation.

It was as if his memories had been shattered, and he could clearly remember every slight touch of his near-death moment, but he couldn't remember anything about what had happened before.

Why did you die? What happened? He...... Who are you?

The wind blew over the wilderness, bringing the subtle sound to his ears. It was a rustling sound, and Reginard followed the sound, a gray world, and at the same time beneath his feet was a barren soil, from which no breath of life flowed out, as if the land itself was a dead thing, and would not give birth to life.

But there are trees growing in the distance, and their trunks are all black, like walls made of black iron, which serve as a circle around the edge of the land. He saw a fence of blackened wooden strips enclosing the area, like a boundary line that had been drawn for some purpose.

This is a cemetery, the handwriting on the tombstone has long been blurred, and the arc of the grave bag bulges behind the tombstone, some of which are empty, as if they have long been excavated, leaving only the soil that has been turned over. The sound he heard was probably coming from here, rustling, rustling, and he heard the sound of a shovel breaking through the earth, piercing deep into the earth, and then lifting the dust high.

The man had his back to him, and seemed to be a grave robber digging up someone's grave, but with a slender body, he shoveled through the hidden earth and stones, and his dark green hair hung down from his skin, as if it had become wet from too much moisture.

"You're awake." The gravedigger said without looking back, his thick arms waving the shovel in his hand and continuing to repeat his monotonous movements.

"Is this the realm of the dead?" He asked.

"Nope."

"So I'm not dead?"

"No, you wouldn't be here."

"Where is this?"

"Shadow Isle."

"Why am I here?"

The gravedigger stopped talking, or rather, he began to mumble to himself, and the syllables that came out of his mouth shattered, and he was tempted to grab the strange man to his face, but when he saw the gravedigger's face, he suddenly noticed the yellow light emanating from his hollow eyes.

This guy is not human at all.

A ghost appeared around him, like a distorted product made purely of shadow energy, and the sudden appearance of this thing startled him, without warning, and silently, and he had no idea of its approach. The strange geist opened its jaws and spat out a quaint scroll bit by bit.

He held the scroll with some hesitation, although there was not a trace of saliva on it, the ghost was a ghost after all, it was something distangible, but the appearance of the geist trying to vomit out still made him feel a little sick.

It looked like it was from a long time ago, although it was not an antique, but the paper still showed the traces of time, he opened the scroll, and the contents of it were only a magic array, and when he covered it with the palm of his hand, he suddenly heard a voice come into his mind, and it sounded like it came from a young man, the tone was clean and not rough.

"When you get this scroll, it's meant you're dead, I don't know how long it will be later, but there's nothing to make a fuss about with your adventurous nature of everything. You just have to remember that your name is Reginald Ashram. The man who gave you this scroll is named Yorick, who bears some kind of ancient curse, remember to keep his promise to take him to the War College and help him find a way to lift the curse with League of Legends. And your mission is to continue to win more nations to join the League of Legends, so that Valoran can use this bloodless war as the rule from now on, and reach a true peace. Remember. ”

The voice disappeared here, and beyond that, there was a lot more information pouring in, about magic, about this continent, about some things from the past, they were too complicated, and too hasty to get into his mind from this scroll, it was still chaotic, his brain ached slightly, and these contents began to be rearranged in an orderly manner, and the pupils that emitted a purple circle lit up, like a miracle.

This is......

Reginard fell to his knees, gasping for air, but found that his heart and lungs were not there, unable to breathe, and not having to. He felt that most of his strength had been lost because of something he had just done, and his body felt weak, but he didn't know how to recover it.

The cold penetrated his body. He hurried to find firewood to prevent his body from freezing in the cold air, he lit the fire with magic, he sat by the fire, he felt the warmth, but his body could not hold the temperature at all, not for a moment.

"This is a body created from the clay of the tomb." Yorick muttered. "You don't need to be warm, cold is the definition of touch left behind in life, and you will slowly forget it."

Reginard was still leaning against the fire, staring at the beating firelight.

Will you live with this cursed body?

War College ...... League of Legends, is this what he's going to keep alive with this cursed body? But what should he do? What else to do? It seems that it is not difficult to hide such a body from ordinary people, but for magicians, it is no different from half a dark wizard.

Maybe I didn't expect that I would be resurrected in this way, right?

He suddenly felt pain, and he couldn't help but let out a low muffled grunt in his throat, it was not accurate to say that it was pain, it was more like an extremely sharp hunger and thirst, as if he was extremely hungry, extremely thirsty, but he could not eat anything, and even if he ate it, he could not relieve it a little. And he will not be weakened by this, he will only become crazy because of it. He ran and shouted in the black woodland, a pain that could not be removed. He longed to see a living creature, and if he found a man or an animal, he felt that he would immediately pounce on him and tear him apart, and temporarily fill his cold and pain with the splatters of warm blood.

Finally, he fell to the ground, his fingers clenching at the ground with a loud crack, and he roared like a beast, and the purple magic circle in his eyes suddenly lit up, and Yorick couldn't help but raise his head.

Because of the white bones crawling out of the soil, thousands of them, almost surrounded the area around him, these skeletons were bathed in purple magic flames, and in the white bone eye hole floated a magic circle that was only purple with the flames, and the light emitted in the darkness cut hideous edges and corners.

They stood for a moment, as if in the midst of a large army, and then they fell apart and reverted to a pile of broken bones.

Reginard fell forward, already fainting.

Yorick knew very well that this was a very normal reaction, and that the cursed body was accompanied by the fact that neither the killing of living creatures nor the sucking of blood could soothe the pain of hunger and thirst, because he was a dead man, a man who had fled from the land of the dead, and was temporarily alive in the world.

The days ahead are long because their deal is not over yet, and he must teach him how to control this intermittent "madness".

Yorick picked him up and walked towards the hut next to the cemetery.