His cloudy eyes began to fill with tears, which he wiped away angrily. The whisperer knew every secret passage that led to his mind, and distorted every fact, every virtue he had ever believed, so that he had forgotten that he had once been admired by all... The god of Shurima!

Shurima, the name he seemed to remember, but all the impressions were blurred and vanished like a mirage, and the rest were locked in the depths of his mind, locked in mad chains.

His eyes, once discerning, were now blurred by the eternal years he had spent in the dark. His skin, once as hard as brass armor, was now dim, cracked and shattered, and fine sand trickled from the wounds on his body like an executioner's hourglass. Maybe he's dying.

He felt that he could die, but the thought didn't bother him too much. He's lived too long and endured too much to fear the end.

To make matters worse, he was no longer sure if he could die. He looked at the weapon in front of him, a meniscus-shaped long-bladed axe, without an axe handle.

It once belonged to a warrior king of Acacia, when a scene suddenly briefly recalls in his mind where he destroys the handle of the axe, as well as the army of the axe's owner. He remembered reforging the weapon, but he couldn't remember why.

Probably, he will tear his heavy throat with this weapon and see what happens. Is it blood or sand that comes out? No, he won't die here. Not yet. The Whisperer tells him that the stage of fate still has his role.

He still has blood that has not yet been shed, and hatred that has not yet been extinguished. The figure of the wolfdog face that had knocked him into the darkness came to mind, and every time he saw the face, his hatred and anger made him boil with rage.

He looked out over the walls of the cave, and the shadows receded, revealing the original murals of mortals. Ancient portraits have begun to peel away and are almost impossible to see, depicting glorious desert cities.

The cool water of the river flows through the high raised canals, the sun brings the blessing of life, and the magnificent green fields and fertile land are in front of you. He saw an eagle-headed king standing on top of a towering building, and a black-robed figure standing beside him.

Below them were two giants in battle armor, one of whom was a majestic crocodile behemoth with a meniscus-shaped axe; The other is a samurai scholar with a wolf-dog head. Time had eaten away at the wedge-shaped inscription beneath the image, but it was still enough for him to recognize the name of the enemy who betrayed him.

Nasus—" he said. "Brother..."

The source of his torment has been found, and his own identity emerges like the sun after a storm.

"I'm Renekton," he hissed through gritted teeth. "I'm the Butcher of the Desert."

He raised the crescent blade and straightened his spine, old dust sliding from his armor. The ancient wounds closed and smoothed, the cracked skin reglued together, his flexible, hard crocodile skin regained its emerald glow, and he found his purpose again. Once, the sun reshaped him, but now, darkness is his ally. His monstrous body was full of energy, his muscles bulging, and his eyes burned with a crimson hatred of Nasus. He heard the whisperer speak again, but he no longer obeyed the voice's call. He clenched his claws into fists and touched the blade of his axe, imagining what it would be like for the canine-headed samurai to beneath it.

"You have abandoned me in the dark, brother," he said. "You will pay with your life for this betrayal!"

……

In this world, except for the bloodline that was or is now connected to Shurima, only a few people have sensed the revival of the ancient country in this desert.

However, for the former Shurima, as well as its youngest and most powerful leader, Azir, Shurima's re-emergence is inevitable, and nothing can stop Shurima's strong rebirth.

However, all this is still a bit far away for Yang Fan today.

……

In another corner of the desert, Nasus, the desert god of death who had wandered alone in the desolation of the Shurima desert for thousands of years, was horrified to find that the tomb that sealed Zelath had been opened, and he was terrified and a little happy.

On the one hand, the hateful energy bar of Zelath is about to reappear, on the other hand, the former kingdom Shurima is about to be revived, and his dearest brother, Renekton, will also see the light again.

Nasus was a majestic canine-headed ascendant, a heroic figure revered as a demigod by the desert people during the ancient Shurima Empire. His wisdom is full of ferocity, and as a guardian of knowledge and an unparalleled tactician, he has guided the ancient Shurima Empire to prosperity and greatness for hundreds of years with his wisdom.

After the fall of the Empire, he began self-exile and became an ethereal legend in people's mouths. Now that the ancient city of Shurima has risen again, he has returned, determined not to let it fall again.

Nasus's brilliance was evident at a very young age, and no one would have imagined that he would be chosen to be one of the Ascenders.

He was an inquisitive scholar who had read, memorized, and judged all the greatest historical, philosophical, and literary works in the Library of the Sun, before he had even made it through the tenth summer of his life.

And his passion for reading and critical thinking were not passed on to his younger brother Reekton, who always easily got bored and went out to fight other local kids. The two brothers are very good, and Nasus always keeps an eye on his brother to make sure he doesn't get into too much trouble.

However, it wasn't long before Nasus was invited to join the elite Sun Academy, leaving his hometown and coming to this prestigious institution to pursue his own values.

While Nasus has always had a passion for acquiring knowledge, his mastery of military strategy and war logistics made him the youngest general in Shurima's history.

Although he was once a capable soldier himself, his fighting talent lay not in charging into battle, but in strategizing.

His tactical foresight gradually became a legend on the battlefield. In each battle, he was able to outrun the enemy by a dozen turns, predicting their actions and reactions in advance, calculating the best time to attack or retreat.

He was very sympathetic to his soldiers, and he took his responsibilities very seriously, always making sure that his soldiers were adequately supplied, paid in a timely manner, and rewarded and punished.

Every death was painful for him, and he often forgot to sleep and eat because he repeatedly pondered tactics, until every command and dispatch and every deployment were perfect.

He was respected and loved by all the soldiers under his command, and under his leadership, Shurima's army won numerous victories.