Arcane: Mage from Noxus

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"Rush!"

In the boundless wilderness, the acrid stench of blood tainted the air. A one-sided slaughter unfolded, leaving mutilated corpses and shattered equipment strewn across the ground.

At the center of the battlefield stood a towering giant wielding a massive axe, commanding everyone's attention.

He loomed over four meters tall, his bare upper body slick with blood that seemed to emanate from the very battlefield itself.

Runes faintly shimmered across his body, pulsing in rhythm with the carnage.

Without hesitation, he tore through the ranks of silver-armored soldiers, his axe cleaving opponents in two with a single, devastating blow.

Behind him, warriors clad in black and red iron armor advanced with ruthless efficiency, mercilessly cutting down the retreating forces of silver-armored soldiers.

In a matter of moments, the massacre was complete. Black and red banners rose over the battlefield, leaving only shattered remnants of silver armor as a testament to the slaughter.

The giant man strode to the top of a dirt slope. Planting his axe into the ground, he raised his bloodied arms to the sky and roared:

"Noxus!"

The iron-clad legionnaires below him halted their march, standing at attention. Under the command of their general, they raised their swords and shields and echoed in unison:

"Noxus! For His Majesty Darkwill!"

The general, clad in ornate black and red armor, stepped forward to stand beside the giant. His voice carried across the battlefield as he issued the next command:

"Secure the battlefield! Prepare for the march on Piltover!"

The legionnaires dispersed, moving with precision and purpose.

They scavenged the battlefield, gathering supplies and performing the grim rites of conquest.

The giant, still standing on the slope, yanked his axe free from the earth and growled:

"Piltover? No! War!"

His crimson eyes burned with fury as he glared at the general. His voice was coarse but defiant.

"Zaun reeks war!"

The general remained calm, his tone sharp and measured.

"Zaun is a means to an end. His Majesty has ordered them to pay for their treachery and reduce it to ruin."

The giant—Sion, the Undead Juggernaut—snarled, his voice dripping with contempt.

"The smell of war! Zaun! Yes! Strong opponents! I like it! Weaklings? Boring!"

The general allowed a thin smile to cross his lips.

"Don't worry, Sion. You will not go unchallenged. Meredith, their so-called leader, has betrayed Noxus. He will be a worthy opponent—and you will have the honor of executing him."

At the mention of Meredith, the general's calm demeanor faltered.

A flicker of jealousy, fear, and hatred twisted his expression before he forced it back into composure.

"Hah! Imistan! Coward!" Sion barked, his laughter a thunderous rumble.

Without waiting for a reply, Sion hefted his bloodstained axe and began charging forward, leaving the general—Imistan—standing alone on the battlefield.

Imistan's face darkened, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword.

He drew a deep breath, suppressing the resentment beneath his iron helm. Raising his blade high, he shouted to his troops:

"Legionnaires! Fall in! Target: Piltover!"

The assembled soldiers moved in perfect formation, marching in lockstep behind their general. The black-and-red tide advanced with grim purpose, their sights set on Piltover's gleaming spires in the distance.

...

"Imistan? General of Lesser Garrison? There is really no one left around our Emperor."

A faint smirk played across Ryan's lips as he brought the edge of the letter to the flickering candle flame. The flames devoured the paper, reducing it to ashes in moments.

"Imistan... I've heard he's one of the Empire's top generals," Katarina said hesitantly, standing before Ryan with a rare flicker of uncertainty in her voice.

Ryan shook his head, an expression of cold indifference crossing his face.

"If you're talking about obeying war commands, he's among the best. But that doesn't make him strong. Noxian generals are mostly brutes who favor brute force over strategy. Apart from Swain, none of them have a brain. Your father included."

Katarina's expression twisted slightly, but she didn't argue. As she thought about it, Ryan's words held truth.

Her father, General Du Couteau, was revered as a master tactician, but even he didn't rely only on assassination plots and surgical strikes to win wars.

Truly speaking, Noxus's war doctrine boiled down to one simple truth:

Charge forward, crush everything, and overwhelm with strength.

As long as the equipment was enough, the soldiers strong, and the numbers overwhelming, there wasn't a battle Noxus couldn't win.

And yet, Katarina didn't see a problem with this.

Demacian nobles, in contrast, spent their lives honing their martial skills and studying the art of war. But what good had that done them?

Against Noxus's unrelenting onslaught, those same nobles were the ones who fled in terror, leaving behind broken banners and discarded armor.

In war, strength alone dictated the outcome. Strategy and honor were luxuries.

Still, this time was different. It was their turn to face one of the Empire's most elite forces—the Lesser Garrison, known as the Empire's unbreakable shield.

Katarina hesitated before voicing her concern.

"Do you think Lesser Garrison will hold? If it's necessary, I could... mobilize some of the noble families for support."

Ryan chuckled lightly, appreciating her loyalty but dismissing the suggestion with a slight shake of his head.

"Do you know how Imistan rose to his current position?"

"It's said he earned his rank with great accomplishments in Ionia," Katarina replied, frowning slightly.

She suddenly remembered Ryan's title—Second Commander of the Ionian Front.

"Indeed," Ryan replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"He contributed to Darkwill's betraying Swain and me. Then, to save face, he sold off part of his own forces for a halfway decent victory. That was enough for Darkwill to promote him. Typical Noxian politics."

Katarina said nothing, sensing the bitterness underlying Ryan's words.

Ryan continued, his voice steady but cold.

"While Swain and I fought tooth and nail with our elites to capture Placidium, Imistan sat on reinforcements, dragging his feet for months. It wasn't incompetence—it was deliberate. Darkwill and the Pale Lady orchestrated the delay. They would've let the Ionian front collapse if it meant getting rid of us."

His gaze hardened.

"We underestimated the strength of the Ionians defending their homeland. Otherwise, Placidium would already belong to the Empire."

Katarina remained silent, absorbing his words.

"As for Lesser's defense..." Ryan's lips curled into a faint, confident smirk.

"If I were caught off guard in open terrain, things might be tricky. But now?"

He trailed off, the implication clear. The odds were in his favor.

Katarina, reassured by his confidence, relaxed slightly.

She had never witnessed Lesser Garrison in action, but their reputation was legendary.

Alongside Swain's legions, they were considered the Empire's strongest forces—the sword and shield of Noxus.

In her mind, Ryan must already have contingencies in place. She only needed to follow orders.

Ryan rose from his seat and moved to the window. His eyes drifted toward the distant horizon, where Piltover and Demacia lay. A flicker of anticipation lit his gaze.

"From Demacia's border to Piltover, they will take no more than a month to march. Perhaps forty days at most."

His voice carried a hint of excitement.

"The time to return to the Immortal Bastion draws near."

Suddenly, Ryan's sharp gaze shifted toward the border river between Zaun and Piltover. A glint of surprise flashed in his eyes.

"Something unusual tonight," he murmured.

"I didn't expect those two to cross the river so soon."

He turned back to Katarina, his expression unreadable.

"I was going to send you to the Immortal Bastion. But now, I've changed my mind. Katarina, go to the river and protect our Soul Singer. Strike when the moment demands it."

With a flick of his wrist, Ryan conjured a sparrow formed entirely of water. The delicate creature flapped its wings and darted toward the capital.

"Understood!"

Katarina bowed and vanished in an instant.

She fully grasped Ryan's intent. To turn someone into a true Noxian, they first had to experience their weakness.

Just as she had, if she had completed her first mission, she would never have realized how naïve she once was.