"Again!"
Trundle's unwilling, furious howl was answered by Logan's exhilarated roar.
It had been far, far too long since Logan had run into an opponent he could truly fight. Long enough that he'd almost "forgotten" what real combat felt like.
To Logan, Trundle was like an upgraded Vander. Raw physical strength, regeneration—Trundle beat Vander by a mile. Add that huge frame, and Trundle was basically a walking, oversized punching bag. And on top of that, Trundle had something Vander didn't:
Magic.
Not the kind of direct storm-control a yeti could pull off, but trolls came from a bloodline that could produce creatures capable of wielding True Ice. That meant magic ran through their veins, one way or another.
Trolls and humans weren't the same. When humans used True Ice, it was because they could control it—its source was a gift from Anivia.
But trolls "using" True Ice didn't mean they controlled it. Anivia never gave trolls that power.
Back in ancient times, trolls were among the races that preyed on humans. Why would Anivia, who favored humanity, ever grant that kind of strength to trolls?
So wielding True Ice and controlling True Ice were two different things. Trolls could wield it mostly because they were born with terrifying cold resistance—and over generations, they'd evolved a mild resistance to True Ice itself.
Even then, only a handful of trolls could truly swing a True Ice weapon without destroying themselves.
Trundle was one of those rare few.
So how could Logan not be thrilled, fighting a monster like this?
…But soon enough, Logan started getting annoyed.
"We agreed to trade punches—so why are you backing up?" Trundle had started dodging Logan's attacks. The earlier rhythm of punch-for-punch collisions was gone, and Logan didn't like it.
Throwing his coat to Jinx earlier was absolutely the right call. Logan was bare-chested now—his shirt had basically exploded during the exchanges. His skin was flushed red from the heat of battle, and while his build couldn't compare to Winter's Claw warriors with their thick slabs of chest and abs, his body still carried clear lines and definition.
"Sharp-tongued bug!" Trundle roared. "When I crush every one of your bones and rip out your tongue, we'll see if you can still talk!"
But behind the rage, fear was creeping in. His enormous eyes flicked around, searching—like he was looking for something.
Then Logan's fist smashed into Trundle's face.
Logan was tiny compared to Trundle. Frankly, if Trundle used him as a club, he'd probably complain the handle was too short. So how did Logan even reach Trundle's cheek?
Because Logan had applied Wind Technique swordsmanship to his fists.
Elemental mastery let Logan shift those techniques away from a blade and into his hands, wrapping his punches in cutting wind and sudden bursts of force.
One punch landed.
Trundle toppled again, slamming into the ground. Half his massive face was caved in, his nose twisted sideways, blood pouring out.
Behind Logan, Winter's Claw erupted in cheers. Seeing the troll fall, the warriors roared and hollered, and mixed into that noise was Jinx's chaotic, gleeful screaming—of course she was going to cheer Logan on.
"You see, Trundle?" Logan walked up, looking down at him. "How are you letting yourself get distracted?"
"…Are you scared?"
"Bullshit!" Trundle lurched upright and screamed at Logan. "Humans like you—I've eaten plenty!"
"The great Trundle will never be afraid of you!"
He bellowed as he lunged, arms spread wide. At the same time, one huge foot stamped down and shattered the frozen soil ahead. His sharp toenails punched through the icy crust, and he kicked upward hard—
Hard-packed dirt and icy mist burst up in a cloud, briefly blinding Logan.
"You really are scared," Logan sighed, his tone turning more and more displeased.
He didn't know that, in the official lore, Trundle's defining trait wasn't stupidity.
It was cunning.
Trolls had a reputation in the Freljord: savage but ignorant, filthy and ugly, vicious but dumb.
But Trundle wasn't like the others. The moment he realized he might actually lose to this "small man," he started using dirty tricks—the same tricks he'd used on his own kind.
He leaned forward like he was committing to a tackle, then reached with both massive arms as if to clamp Logan in a crushing hug, squealing with glee:
"I'm going to tear off your feet and eat them!"
But the next instant, Trundle's eyes filled with panic.
He'd hugged nothing but shattered ice.
And reflected in those lantern-like eyes was a man.
Logan stood within arm's reach of Trundle's nose, eyes narrowed, watching him.
A wind-forged blade shimmered into existence in Logan's hand. He turned his body sideways, holding the sword one-handed, the point aimed straight at Trundle's eye.
Trundle's gaze locked onto the blade automatically. His face made a ridiculous expression—cheeks swollen, nose crooked, and now his eyes crossed as he tried to focus on the tip.
Logan slashed.
"AAGH!"
"Damn human!"
Blood erupted.
Logan flicked the sword, keeping the hot, rancid spray from splattering onto him. In the Freljord, bathing wasn't exactly convenient—and if he came back covered in troll blood, Jinx would absolutely keep her distance all night.
Trundle clutched his bleeding eye with one hand and swung wildly with the other, roaring:
"I'm going to kill you! Come on! Don't run!"
Logan was honestly confused. How could Trundle be brave one second and sneaky the next?
Then Trundle ran.
Yes—ran.
The giant troll turned and bolted, abandoning even his True Ice club as he fled into the distance.
On the nearby battlefield, Raelna saw it and her mouth twitched—but the next second she bit the tip of her tongue.
"You're still daring to get distracted?" Sejuani had also seen the troll clutching his eye and fleeing. She seized the opening the moment Raelna's attention slipped and launched another wave of attacks with Bristle.
Back on Logan's side, he stared at Trundle's retreating form—one massive hand over his eye, the other three limbs pounding the tundra as he fled—and Logan's expression went flat.
So this was the Troll King?
For a moment, Logan hesitated.
Then he raised his sword and aimed at Trundle's back.
Logan wasn't someone who killed for pleasure. But he also wasn't a bleeding-heart. Over the years, he'd killed plenty—Zaunites, Piltovans, Bilgewater sailors, Noxians…
And now, killing something that wasn't even human?
That wasn't hard to accept.
Trundle had just said it himself—he'd eaten plenty of humans.
As someone who'd crossed worlds, Logan did have a soft spot for "champions," for familiar faces—he could be inclined to show them goodwill.
But the moment positions changed, thinking changed with them.
Now, Logan's goodwill toward champions had a condition:
They weren't his enemy—or if they were, they were the kind of enemy who might become useful later.
And Trundle?
What help could Trundle possibly be to Logan?
In just a few seconds, Logan erased the thought of letting him go, and shook his head with a quiet laugh.
The Twin Cities didn't need troll support.
If it were Willump, that yeti, Logan might've considered sparing him—because yetis carried real magic. And once Nunu and Willump bonded, they became a combination even Lissandra coveted: the power to make "dreams come true."
But Trundle?
A big body, a True Ice club, awful breath, and a taste for human flesh.
How did that help the Twin Cities grow? How did that help Logan's future plans?
It didn't.
But Trundle's death would help.
It would earn Logan respect from Winter's Claw and speed up the plan he'd already started shaping.
With that, Logan stopped holding back—and stopped playing.
Trundle already couldn't beat Logan in raw physical strength. And now that he'd lost the will to fight, facing Logan's full power…
He couldn't survive it.
Especially when he wasn't even trying to turn back.
Logan pushed Wind Technique swordsmanship to its limit.
He lowered his waist slightly, chin dipping. He took a deep breath, lips parting, steam forced out between his teeth.
His left hand formed a poised, precise shape—thumb and index hooked, three fingers aligned and drawn in.
His right hand mimicked an empty grip, like it was about to draw a blade from nothing.
Then—
Logan's left hand snapped outward in a violent draw.
Unsheathing Strike!
"WHOOO—"
A savage gust tore across the tundra. The air in front of Logan shuddered, space itself seeming to tremble as an invisible slash surged forward, cleaving through cold and wind.
Trundle, sprinting away, suddenly jerked—
And Sejuani and Raelna both stared blankly toward Logan's position.
Then, unbelievably, both of them stopped moving at the same time, eyes snapping to Trundle.
Trundle took a few more stumbling steps.
Then he stopped in place, dazed—
And his massive head separated from his body.
The head and corpse hit the tundra with a heavy, sickening thud.
…
Winter's Claw fell into dead silence.
Even Udyr looked stunned.
He stared at the fallen Trundle, inhaled sharply, and realized something with a chill: without calling on the power of the spirits, he couldn't stop a slash like that.
"Sejuani, I'm done over here," Logan said, straightening and rolling his shoulders. He was bare-chested, but he didn't look cold at all. Elemental mastery let him adapt to the Freljord's brutal weather.
Sejuani looked at Logan, something unreadable flickering in her eyes.
Then she lifted her arm.
Frost crawled over her forearm, and her True Ice weapon swelled larger—growing with a sudden, unnatural weight.
The flail swung free—
And a small iceberg erupted out of nowhere in front of Sejuani, surging toward Raelna.
Raelna dodged, but the iceberg moved like it could track her.
Raelna knew being frozen wouldn't kill her. She was Iceborn. She could survive becoming an ice statue.
What she couldn't survive was what came next.
If Bristle hit her while she was trapped, she'd be shattered into pieces—armor or not.
But then Logan suddenly shouted from the side, "Wait—Sejuani! Don't kill her!"
Sejuani paused.
She understood what Logan meant. And honestly, she hadn't planned to kill Raelna anyway—only teach her a lesson.
Raelna was the Frostguard's commander. If she truly died here, and Lissandra stepped in to avenge her, Winter's Claw couldn't withstand it.
Sejuani was reckless—but she wasn't stupid. You didn't lead a tribe this large without knowing where the lines were.
So Logan's shout gave her an easy excuse to stop.
Sejuani sneered at Raelna and, with effort, snapped her flail upward. The small iceberg rose with it and drifted away.
"Frostguard—consider yourself lucky."
Inside Raelna's helm, her face went dark with rage.
"Yield," Sejuani said, forcing herself to settle her breathing. The strain made her complexion even paler, and a brief weariness flashed through her eyes before she smothered it. "The troll you brought is dead."
She stared at Raelna and continued, "Go back and tell Lissandra: Winter's Claw doesn't answer to her."
"You'll regret not killing me," Raelna replied coldly.
She picked up her greatsword, turned, and started to leave—
Only to find someone shorter than her stepping into her path.
Logan.
"Who said you could leave?" Logan tilted his head, his expression unreadable.
Raelna froze.
She didn't even get the chance to demand what Logan meant—
Because Logan Flashed to her side.
Raelna reacted instantly, lifting her arm and bringing her sword down—
But Logan slapped her wrist once, clean and sharp.
Her grip broke.
The True Ice greatsword spun out of her hand.
Sejuani watched, eyes brightening, and whatever she was thinking, she didn't say it out loud.
Logan pinned Raelna, then chopped the back of her neck with a quick strike.
Raelna went limp.
Logan looked over at Sejuani. "You're not going to take the rest of these Frostguard?"
Sejuani narrowed her eyes at Logan, approval clear in her gaze.
Then she roared, voice like iron: "Winter's Claw—CHARGE!"
Behind her, an answering howl rose instantly.
Winter's Claw warriors—already boiling with adrenaline after watching Logan and Trundle—surged straight into the Frostguard ranks.
The Frostguard were strong, sure.
But they were outnumbered, completely. And to make sure there were no losses, Udyr joined the charge as well.
More importantly, the Troll King was dead, and Raelna had been captured.
The Frostguard's courage shattered.
The Frostguard weren't puppets Lissandra had carved from wood. They were living people.
And living people could feel fear.
Logan watched quietly. Seeing Sejuani truly commit to it made him genuinely pleased.
It meant Sejuani and Logan were truly on the same side now. Not just a trade between them—but something like comradeship, born in battle.
Holding Raelna by one arm, Logan tossed her toward Sejuani.
The reason for capturing Raelna was simple: she couldn't be killed. Whoever killed her would become Lissandra's enemy for good.
And Logan…
Logan wanted to play a much bigger game.
He wanted Lissandra to come to him.
Not the other way around.
Once the Frostguard were fully subdued, a rare smile appeared on Sejuani's face.
She sat atop Bristle, while Raelna lay bound by Sejuani's flail chain at Bristle's side, unconscious.
Sejuani raised her arm and shouted, "Back to camp!"
//Check out my P@tre0n for 10 extra free chapters //[email protected]/Razeil0810.