In the morning, Logan and Jinx went out and walked around outside Noxus for a couple of laps.
"Logan, this place barely has any breakfast spots."
That was the first thing Jinx said the moment she got back upstairs.
Wrinkling her nose, she held a greasy paper bag she'd bought from a street stall. Inside was a breakfast quesadilla-style thing cut into rough pieces. Jinx had started eating on the way back, but after one bite, she dumped the rest into Logan's hands.
After Logan tried it, he could only shake his head too. The taste, the texture—he could only describe it as a lump of something that shouldn't exist.
It was like chewing dirt… with a weird aftertaste. If Logan had to put a name to that flavor, it was basically Play-Doh.
Yeah. Imagine dirt that tastes like Play-Doh. That definitely wasn't food.
All Logan could do was conclude that Noxus's "industrial level" really was stuck in the caveman era. The empire's wealth was piled in the hands of the upper class, while ordinary people could barely get their hands on any real resources.
Put it this way: any Noxian who could afford to run a storefront inside the Immortal Bastion already counted as moderately well-off. And even so, they still looked poor—nothing like Zaun at all.
The elites were drowning in excess.
The common people were poor enough to get sick from it.
That was Noxus right now.
And it wasn't surprising. Swain had only just taken control of Noxus. In the main timeline, that truly powerful empire still needed close to another decade under Swain before it would really become what people feared.
Jayce tried the food Jinx brought back and immediately made a pained face. He'd never eaten anything this miserable in his life. After a few bites, he gave up entirely and decided to keep his stomach empty—he'd rather wait and eat properly at the banquet.
Silco, though, forced the whole thing down anyway. Between him, Logan, and Sevika, they finished every last piece.
While drinking plain water to rinse the dryness and crumbs from his mouth, Logan suddenly turned his head and called out, annoyed, to the Jinx trying to sneak away.
"Stop."
"What?" Jinx froze mid-slink, eyes flicking toward him. Then she bared her small white teeth in a mischievous grin.
"You're not going out alone," Logan said sternly. "If you really want to go, Sevika goes with you—or I do."
Jinx wasn't weak. Even without becoming some Shimmer-powered superhero, she was quick, agile, and carried all sorts of strange little weapons. In a normal situation, a few grown men wouldn't be able to take her down.
But this wasn't Zaun. This was Noxus.
Noxians were built tougher than Zaunites, and the people who moved freely inside the Immortal Bastion were mostly veterans—men and women who'd survived multiple wars.
If Jinx wandered around alone here, it could get dangerous fast.
"I'm not going far," Jinx muttered. "Just looking around nearby."
"No," Logan said, glaring at her.
"Come back. Sit. Read something. The Noxians will probably come for us soon."
"…Okay." Jinx lowered her head and obediently returned to Logan's side.
She just wanted to go exploring.
That chubby guy had said it himself, hadn't he?
There were plenty of dangerous restricted areas inside the Immortal Bastion—and for someone with a cat's personality, that kind of warning was basically an invitation.
Cats were like that. Tell them not to do something, and it instantly became the one thing they wanted most.
And yeah—Jinx's hands were itching to do exactly that.
Keeping an eye on Jinx while chatting with Mel about Noxus's internal situation, time quickly slid into the afternoon.
Just as Logan had expected, even though it was called a "banquet," it actually began in the afternoon. And as special guests, people from the Twin Cities would naturally be brought in early—so they'd have extra time to familiarize themselves with the event, socialize, and prepare.
When Srilan arrived, he was accompanied by four attendants. Smiling as he entered the building, he called out brightly, "Everyone, you probably haven't eaten yet, right? Come on—follow me. I'll take you to a meal first. After you've had something to eat, I'll explain the rules of the banquet."
Logan's group stood up and exchanged glances. Mel nodded.
Then they followed Srilan out into the streets.
About ten minutes later, they arrived in front of a massive gray-black building.
Several guards stood watch at the entrance. When they saw Srilan, a man who looked like their captain came forward. Srilan said a few words to him, then turned back and announced, "Welcome, everyone, to the masquerade banquet hosted by Marquis Poli."
As Logan stepped inside, he paused.
Because the interior and exterior couldn't have been more different. Outside, the building looked solemn and severe. Inside, it was pure gilded opulence.
Even the enormous support columns were draped in beautiful gold ornaments. Long red banners hung from above—smooth, glossy, and clearly expensive.
Rows of chairs had already been arranged along both sides. In the center, a huge open space had been left empty—probably meant to serve as the dance floor.
Srilan led them into a room. Past a swaying bead curtain, several long tables had been laid out, covered in food.
"Eat first," Srilan said with a bow toward them. "I still have some matters to handle."
With that, he smiled and left the room.
Jinx moved first—she charged the table and grabbed a lamb leg, then took a huge bite.
Silco didn't even get the chance to stop her. But seeing how enthusiastically she ate, and noticing Mel calmly nodding to herself as if everything was fine, Silco swallowed his suspicion. His instincts always told him Noxians would poison the food.
Jayce lifted a silver goblet, took a mouthful of wine, and then stood beside Jinx and started eating too.
With Jayce over two meters tall and Jinx barely over one and a half, the visual contrast was absurd—especially when both of them were devouring food like starving ghosts.
"How do you think the Black Rose will try to pull us in?" Silco asked, looking at Mel.
"I don't know." Mel shook her head. Since arriving in Noxus, she'd hardly smiled at all. "Logan has already decided to work with Swain, so we can ignore whatever the Black Rose offers. We're going to refuse them anyway."
"Sure," Silco said, then narrowed his eyes. "But Mel—are you certain Swain will really do what you said yesterday? That he'll come to us on his own?"
Mel nodded.
She was certain Swain would come. She didn't know whether Swain already knew this banquet was a Black Rose event, but Swain was sharp. With people from the Twin Cities here, he would definitely make contact.
Logan walked over, took a sip of wine, and ate a little.
When Srilan returned, he now wore a sheep mask that covered the upper half of his face. Behind him, servants carried a pile of clothing. Two of them held silver trays displaying several masks.
The servants wore matching outfits—red and blue hooded garments—and they also wore masks.
"A masquerade is meant to be enjoyed," Srilan said. "So we prepared clothing and masks for you as well. This is one of the rules of the banquet: during the event, no one may voluntarily reveal their true identity."
He waved a hand. The servants stepped forward with the clothing and bowed respectfully.
Logan took his set and put it on, pulling the hood up. Then he looked down at the masks on the tray.
Silver masks of all kinds—animals, strange abstract shapes, styles for men and women, everything.
Jinx chose a butterfly mask. It covered her upper face, leaving her clean, plain lower face visible.
Jayce picked one that looked like a helmet, covering his entire face.
Silco chose something understated.
Logan thought for a moment, then selected a mask shaped like a jagged corpse-mark—an eerie, crooked design that left part of his cheek visible.
"All right," Srilan said, clapping his hands. He took a cloak from a servant, put it on, and walked at the front. "Come with me. The guests have already started arriving."
As they walked, he continued explaining, "Once the banquet begins, there are multiple halls. The center is the ballroom. There's also a wine hall, a food hall, a music hall—pick what you like. But the liveliest is always the ballroom. By evening, it'll be packed."
Following Srilan, they returned to the main hall they had passed earlier—and it was already crowded.
Everyone wore the same style of attire: either a red cloak or a blue one, with masks in different shapes.
Just as Srilan had said—this really was a masquerade.
Logan held Jinx's hand and pushed through the crowd, making sure she didn't suddenly vanish into the sea of bodies.
After Srilan led them into another hall, Logan finally saw the host of the banquet—
Marquis Poli.
He was about 1.8 meters tall, heavyset—maybe better described as thick and strong.
He wore an open red-and-black short jacket over black trousers. There was nothing underneath, leaving his chest bare. Thick horizontal tattoos crossed his chest. A warrior's faceplate covered the upper part of his face; the lower half that showed was packed with hard flesh and muscle.
"I'm Poli," the marquis boomed, laughing as he walked up. "Welcome to my banquet. I honestly didn't think you'd actually agree to come. I'm guessing this was Mel's idea, wasn't it?"
He held a goblet and offered it to Mel.
Even though Mel wore a mask and cloak, he still recognized her.
"I got along well with your mother, Ambessa," Poli said. "I don't know if you remember, Mel, but when you were little, I held you in my arms."
"I'm sorry, Marquis Poli," Mel replied, surprise flickering across her face. Then she shook her head. "I've forgotten most of my childhood."
Poli laughed and drank, then slowly circled Mel twice before looking at the others.
"So," he asked, "which one of you is Zaun's ruler?"
Logan narrowed his eyes, about to step forward—but beside him, Srilan clapped loudly and coughed once.
Poli froze. A flash of panic flickered through his eyes, then vanished. He raised his voice again, forcing cheer into it.
"Right—of course. It's a masquerade. Rules can't be broken. Here's what we'll do: after the banquet ends, don't rush off."
Behind Poli, Srilan stood with his head lowered, one hand pressed to his throat.
"Anyway," Poli said, lifting his goblet again, "I hope our friends from the Twin Cities enjoy themselves."
He drank, then left the hall surrounded by a crowd.
"What are you staring at?" Silco moved closer to Logan, noticing where his gaze was fixed.
"That woman…" Logan murmured. "The way she walks is strange."
Silco followed Logan's line of sight.
Behind Poli was a group of women accompanying him. They weren't wearing cloaks—only masks—so Silco judged they were staff for the banquet.
The one Logan was watching was slender and dressed in black leather. Her legs were long and thin, her proportions unnaturally elegant in a way that felt almost wrong.
Silco couldn't help glancing at Jinx. Jinx's legs were long and slim too, but they couldn't compare to that woman's. Still, Silco thought Jinx looked better—because that woman's legs didn't look human. They looked… eerie.
"Silco," Logan muttered, drinking his wine, "that woman doesn't seem human."
Silco narrowed his eyes. "Vastaya?"
"No," Logan said, shaking his head. "I can sense magic. Her magical presence isn't like a Vastaya's. It's more like… forbidden magic. Just evil."
As he spoke, a woman in a cloak slipped lightly past Logan. She moved toward the direction Poli had gone.
Logan blinked, then smiled.
"Silco," he said.
"Hm?"
"Get ready. We're about to watch something entertaining."
"What?" Silco looked at him, confused.
Logan kept his voice low as he watched the woman in the blue cloak vanish into the crowd. "Swain's people are here."
"So what?"
"The woman who just passed us," Logan said, "I'd bet she's here to assassinate Poli."
Silco let out a soft, mocking sound. "What, did Janna tell you that too?"
Logan shot Silco a look and didn't answer. Instead, he focused, extending his senses to the surrounding noise.
Within the chaotic music, he caught fragments of conversation—then began filtering them, forcing his attention to lock onto only what he wanted to hear.
And then he heard a familiar voice.
"Lord Poli… I'm sorry about what happened earlier…"
"Stand straight. When you speak, don't lower your head. You are me right now—understand?"
"Yes, I understand, but… when this is over, will you really introduce me to the Pale Woman?"
"You're already doing work for her. Who do you think gave you the magic you're using right now?"
"Enough. Stop talking."
"…Yes."
"Cough, cough."
Logan choked on his wine.
He lifted a hand to wipe his mouth, then looked toward the direction of the music hall—the place "Srilan"… no, the real Marquis Poli had pointed out earlier.
His eyes were full of disbelief.
This was something Logan genuinely hadn't expected.
If that woman in the blue cloak—with that striking red hair—hadn't walked past them, Logan would never have uncovered it.
Srilan…
That potbellied "minor noble" who lacked the typical Noxian brutality, the friendly chubby man who had greeted them with constant smiles…
Was actually the real Marquis Poli?
Had LeBlanc used magic to swap their identities?
Yeah. That was exactly the kind of thing LeBlanc could do.
Logan shook his head with a quiet, incredulous laugh.
This banquet was never going to be peaceful. Now it was clear: Swain and LeBlanc were already clashing. People loved joking that LeBlanc was a beautiful idiot, but a woman who'd lived for over a thousand years—and corrupted Noxus from within—was never going to be an idiot.
Logan set his goblet down and walked over to Jinx, preparing to tell Jayce and the others not to stray far from him.
Because this banquet could erupt into violence at any moment.
He also couldn't help wondering if Katarina knew who the real Marquis Poli was.
Yes—earlier, the woman who had slipped past Logan and Silco, the one following Poli, was Katarina.
Her red hair was far too recognizable. Sure, plenty of women had red hair—but in this setting, at this moment, a red-haired woman who moved with the same silent, weightless grace as Akali?
That could only be Katarina.
And as for her motive…
A daughter her father didn't believe in, who ended up working under Swain—her reason for being at this banquet?
Logan almost wanted to laugh.
Did that really need explaining?
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