The land now known as the Isle of Shadows was once a beautiful island, but it was completely transformed by the devastating blow of a magical catastrophe. Now, black fog haunts the island, and the land itself is polluted and corrupted by evil magic.

If any living creature comes to the island, its vitality will gradually fade, and then it will attract insatiable, predatory dead spirits. The souls of those who die in the black mist will be cursed and will inhabit this land of grief for eternity.

Deep underneath the oldest city of the Noxian Empire, there is a forbidden place that does not see the light of day, the palace of Elise, the predator who took her life.

When she was a mortal, she was once the mistress of the family, but since being bitten by a dastardly demigod, she has transformed into a beautiful undead alien, a spider-like creature that traps unsuspecting prey with its webs.

In order to stay young forever, Elise now likes to prey on the unsuspecting and faithless, and few people in this world can resist her temptation.

Mokai is a burly dryad with a furious heart that tirelessly fights against the terrifying visions of the Shadow Isles. A magical cataclysm destroyed his home, and at the same time turned him into a vengeful force, saving him from the curse of immortality, all thanks to the fusion of water of life in his core. Once a peaceful spirit of nature, Mokai has been fighting furiously to banish the undead scourge from the Shadow Isle and restore his homeland to its former beauty.

What's even more terrifying is that the power of the Shadow Isle is getting stronger every year, and the undead remnants are expanding their infestation, harvesting the hope and souls of the living throughout the Runeterra.

Weeks at sea had left Marcus dizzy and weak, so he was glad to be back on land. In the rugged basalt of the coastline, a path leads inland, and the smooth, greasy surface makes it unstable to be. The crooked trees on both sides of the path twisted and twisted, and the scars on the black bark flowed yellow pulp, as if some animal had scratched the trunk mottled in a panic. The woods shimmer with a soft light, like a ghostly fire in a swamp that draws ignorant souls to their perdition. The branches above his head hung down what looked like torn cotton, and it took Marcus a moment to realize that they were thousands of cobwebs.

The tyrannical and cunning Hammerstone is an undead from the Isle of Shadows, ambitious and tireless. Once a caretaker of countless mysteries, searching for power beyond life and death, he now uses his original Piercing Pain to slowly torture and crush others as a means of his existence. Those who are persecuted by him need to suffer far more than death, for the hammerstone will cause their souls to suffer excruciatingly, imprisoning their souls in their own lanterns and subjecting them to eternal torment.

The terrifying sound of chains cutting across the ground echoed through the wilderness. In the wild, an unnaturally formed fog obscured the light of the moon and stars, and the insects that normally chirped were now eerily quiet.

Hammerstone came to a dilapidated shack. He held up the lantern, not to illuminate the surroundings, but to see inside the lantern. The inside of the lantern is like a twinkling starry sky, with thousands of small green balls flickering. They flew wildly, as if trying to avoid Hammerstone's gaze. A strange smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, revealing glittering fangs. Every starlight is his treasure.

Behind the door of the shack, a man was sobbing. Hammerstone sensed his pain and was drawn to it. He understood the man's pain, just like his old friend.

Hammerstone had only appeared in the presence of the man once, decades ago, but ever since then, the ghost has continued to rob the man of his loved ones: from his beloved horse to his mother, his brother, and most recently, the servant who has put him in love. The ghost never disguised their death as a natural death; He wanted the man to know who was causing him pain.

The ghost walked through the door of the shack, chains dragging behind him. The inside of the shack was dark and damp, with dirt that had accumulated for years. The man looked worse than the shack: he was unkempt, covered in pus, and vicious, some of them had just been scratched. The clothes he wore were originally precious velvet, but now all that remained were tattered rags.

The man saw the sudden green fluorescence and shrunk into a ball in horror, covering his eyes with his hands. His body shook violently and retreated into the corner.

"Please. Please, it's not you. He whispered.

"A long time ago, I identified you." Hammerstone's voice was sharp and piercing, like a voice that hadn't spoken a word in years.

"Now I'm here to collect my soul"

"I'm going to die." The man said, his voice so low that it was barely audible. "If you're here to kill me, you'd better hurry." He plucked up the courage to look directly at the hammerstone.

Hammerstone grinned. "I don't want your death."

He opened the glass door of the lantern slightly, and a strange sound of dissonance of screams came from within.

The man didn't react at first. There were too many screams at the same time, mixed together as harshly as the sound of crushing glass slag. But then his eyes widened in horror as he heard a voice he knew coming from the lantern of the hammerstone. He heard his mother, his brother, his friends, and finally he heard the most terrible voices: his children, who seemed to be wailing as they were burned alive.

"What have you done," he screamed. He haphazardly picked up something from his hand, a broken stool, and threw it at the hammerstone with all his strength. The stool didn't hit anything, it passed through the ghost's body, and Hammerstone began to laugh eerily.

The man ran towards Hammerstone, his eyes filled with rage. The ghost threw off its chains, and the hook flew out like a viper. The barbed hook pierced the mortal's chest, shattering the ribs and piercing the heart. The man fell to his knees, the pained expression on his face that made Hammerstone feel incomparably delicious.

"I left them to protect them." The man cried. Blood poured out of his mouth.

The hammerstone twists the chain with force. At first, the man didn't move. Then he began to be torn apart. Like a coarse cloth being pulled out of his body in rows, he suffered from severe pain, and little by little he was pulled out of his body. His body was twitching violently, and blood splattered all over the walls.

"Now, here we go." Hammerstone said. He dragged the hooked soul, which shimmered brightly at the other end of the chain, and was imprisoned in the lantern. The man's body collapsed to the ground, and Hammerstone left.

Hammerstone left the shack with the curling and churning black mist, holding its lantern high along the way. It wasn't until the hammerstone had disappeared and the fog had cleared that the insects resumed their night singing and the stars filled the night sky again.