When Jarvan IV and the others returned to the lizardfolk territory, the fire that had been burning across the land had already been put out. But black smoke still rose into the sky from the ruins, silently telling the story of what had happened there.
The lizardfolk settlement after the battle was a complete wreck. Even walking along the roads, one could still smell the lingering scent of blood in the air.
The surviving lizardfolk, fewer than a hundred of them, sat off to one side in grief and despair, their sobs and cries quietly spreading through the ruined settlement.
On the other side lay the bodies of their fallen kin.
Even though they had driven back a Noxian warband thousands strong, not a single person could feel any joy in a situation like this.
On the way back, Jarvan IV had already done his best to calm himself and force down his anger.
He knew that in war, one could not allow anger to take control.
But when this scene entered his sight, a massive fury still surged up in his heart beyond his control.
His fingers clenched so hard that his knuckles turned white.
The lizardfolk had lived here for generations. They had never gone out of their way to provoke anyone. They had done nothing wrong. They longed for peace and kept to themselves.
And yet a blameless tribe like this had been massacred in a single day.
Worse still, the same fate that had befallen the lizardfolk had likely happened countless times already elsewhere.
Looking into those tear-filled, grief-stricken eyes, Jarvan IV did not even know how to comfort them.
At this point, what comfort could he possibly offer?
More than anything, what he needed to think about now was how to drive those invaders out of this land.
He called over two lieutenants and began discussing matters with them.
Two choices lay before him.
The first was to continue the attack on Trevale, but that would carry great risk.
The second was to strike back at the Gates of Mourning.
After some thought, Jarvan IV understood that whichever choice he made, he needed to consolidate his forces. He could not keep them scattered the way they were now.
He looked up at the sky, already dark by now, and immediately made his decision.
"All troops, prepare to move."
The lizardfolk territory was no longer safe to remain in. Those surviving Noxian fugitives might very well bring even more enemies down on them.
They had to take the surviving lizardfolk and leave under cover of night as quickly as possible.
In only a short while, even the bodies of the dead lizardfolk had been taken along with them. Then the army turned and headed off at once in a new direction without stopping.
Around dawn, on the far side of the Argent Mountains, a tall figure sat on a high seat, his expression deep and unreadable. His fingers tapped the armrest in a steady rhythm, making a hollow knocking sound, as if he were waiting for something.
Soon, a messenger ran in and dropped to one knee.
"General, Hinton's warband suffered heavy losses. Only nine hundred and twenty-three men remain. The enemy only pursued them halfway, so our ambush failed."
The tapping stopped at once.
"You're saying they didn't chase any farther?"
Patria rose from his seat, his gaze growing darker.
"No, General."
The messenger replied, "And they've already withdrawn from the lizardfolk territory."
Patria's gaze passed through the great hall, toward the far side of the Argent Mountains, and a trace of confusion crept into his thoughts.
They had not chased them down after all.
Had Demacia really lost even the most basic fighting spirit?
That made the ambush he had set in advance completely useless.
If he had managed to capture the prince alive, it would have been a tremendous achievement. His prestige and position would have risen another step.
But now all of that was only empty talk.
He still could not understand why that prince had stopped pursuing them. It had only been a broken remnant of a defeated force. If he had just chased them a little farther, he could have wiped them out to the last man.
And because of that, Patria had lost an entire warband several thousand strong for nothing. It was a massive loss.
He brooded in silence for several seconds, his gaze dark, while the hall itself sat as still as dead water.
After a long while, Patria gave the order in a low voice, "There's no point wasting time here anymore. Pass the word, prepare to move. Everyone regroups at the Gates of Mourning."
At this point, capturing that prince alive was no longer going to be so easy.
For now, holding the Gates of Mourning that they had already taken would still count as a major military achievement.
Then Patria added, "Also, send a report to the High Commander. Inform him of this and ask for further orders."
"Yes, sir!"
The messenger below accepted the order at once.
Patria watched him run from the hall, then slowly sat back down on his high seat.
This sudden order from the High Commander to launch a rapid assault and seize the Gates of Mourning as quickly as possible had surprised a great many people.
After all these years, had Darkwill really finished preparing to go to war with Demacia again?
The problem was that Noxus still had a portion of its forces attacking the Ionian continent.
The resistance from the natives there had been unexpectedly fierce. So much time had passed already, and no one knew how many troops Noxus had poured into that campaign, yet they still had not taken it.
Even Swain, that legendary figure out of old stories, seemed unable to push the campaign any further despite leading the army himself.
And while the two sides remained deadlocked, Darkwill had suddenly split off part of his forces and turned them toward an attack on the Gates of Mourning.
That was effectively the same as waging war in two places at once.
It was not impossible, of course. Noxus truly did have the resources to do something like that.
But in the eyes of many, there was simply no need.
Not to mention that with autumn and winter arriving, the tribes of the frozen northern lands had begun raiding Noxus's borders as well, and those troublesome tribes were hardly pushovers.
Though, to be fair, Demacia was facing much the same problem.
A lot of people believed Darkwill's decision this time was unwise, but Patria had still stepped forward and taken the High Commander's assignment.
After all, who would turn down military glory sitting right within arm's reach?
As the heir to House Teir, Patria had been born with things most people could never possess even in a lifetime, and that had given him an unmatched confidence.
This time, he wanted to see what Demacia was really made of.
At that moment, another soldier ran in from outside and dropped to one knee.
"General, a southern hundred-man company was attacked. This is already the third similar incident in recent days."
Patria asked, "Who attacked them?"
The soldier lowered his head. "It seems... it was only one person. According to the surviving scouts, the attacker was an elemental mage with purplish-red skin."
"An elemental mage..." Patria considered that for a moment, then dismissed it without much concern. "You needed to report something like that to me? Send more men and deal with her."
"Yes, sir!"
The soldier accepted the order and left.
November 25.
At the heart of Noxus stood its capital, the Immortal Bastion.
It had once been the fortress of a mighty being, and even now, very few people dared to speak that powerful name aloud.
As the empire had expanded over the course of a thousand years, the capital had grown larger and larger beneath the shadow of that fortress.
Now it had become an enormous city, drawing every sort of person from every corner of the world.
It was a land of wealth and glory, a treasure trove where anyone strong enough could possess anything.
No matter who they had once been.
Beneath the city's solemn architectural style, the streets were narrow and enclosed, the rooftops crenelated, and the city gates grand and imposing. It was prosperous, yet still carried an unmistakable air of oppression.
And within the highest stronghold of that mighty city, seated upon the throne coveted by countless people, sat the ruler of Noxus, Boram Darkwill, his face expressionless.
A kingly pressure radiated from his entire body, and all those standing below remained utterly silent.
After reading the letter that had come from the west, Darkwill casually tossed it aside and said, "Send word to Patria. Tell him holding the Gates of Mourning is enough. As for the rest, let him use his own judgment."
"Yes, sir!"
Someone immediately accepted the order and left.
Darkwill then looked down and asked, "Does anyone else have something to report?"
One man stepped forward and said, "Your Majesty, the tribes on the northern border have already attacked three of our cities and carried off a large amount of resources. We should respond quickly."
Darkwill frowned slightly. "What is Darius doing?"
The man immediately replied, "General Darius is currently marching north and fighting a tribe called the Winter's Claw. The two sides are locked in a stalemate, so he likely cannot disengage."
Darkwill thought for a moment, then said, "Send word to Darius. I want him to take back double the stolen supplies afterward. And send more men to deal with those tribes."
"Yes, sir."
Another person accepted the order.
No one doubted that the man known as the Hand of Noxus would be able to carry out Darkwill's command.
"Anything else?"
Darkwill asked again.
Another man stepped forward and bowed his head. "Your Majesty, General Du Couteau has been missing for over a month, and there is still no sign of him. At present, the Assassins' Guild has no leader, and its assassins have already started taking contracts in private. If this continues, I fear it may cause unrest among the upper ranks of society."
At this, Darkwill's eyes flickered slightly. Two seconds later, he said flatly, "Keep investigating. As for the Assassins' Guild, leave it alone for now."
"Yes, sir."
Demacia, Terbisia.
"Look, we're almost there!"
Standing at the bow, Lux gazed excitedly at the riverside city coming into view.
Luke, still looking half asleep, yawned. "We're still a long way off. Terbisia isn't our final destination."
"That doesn't even matter. I finally don't have to stay on a ship anymore!"
Just thinking about getting off this ship put Lux in a wonderful mood. She was practically in tears with relief.
Five days.
A full five days.
Every single morning, the moment she got up, she had to drink a bowl of the seasickness medicine Luke brewed for her.
Did anyone know what it felt like to wake up and hear, "Morning, sunshine, time for your medicine"?
She never wanted to live through those miserable days again.
Of course, she would have to live through the exact same thing on the way back.
But Luke had no intention of ruining Miss Crownguard's good mood first thing in the morning. Even though it would have made him extremely happy, the result would probably end with both of them suffering, so in the end, he kept quiet.
Back in his room aboard the ship, Luke packed up his things with simple efficiency.
Then, thinking of the date, he said in his mind, "Sign in."
[This sign-in has been changed to a monthly sign-in.]
[Sign-in successful.]
[Congratulations, Host. You have obtained Random Secondary Profession Skill Card x1.]
[Congratulations, Host. You have obtained Intermediate Secondary Profession Upgrade Card x1.]
[Congratulations, Host. You have obtained Intermediate Skill Upgrade Card x1.]
[Congratulations, Host. You have obtained Random Normal Skill Card (Max Level) x1.]
[Congratulations, Host. You have obtained Rare Exotic Fruit — Redheart Fruit.]
[The rewards have been stored in the system inventory. Please check them yourself.]
Several system notifications rang out one after another.
This month's rewards actually looked pretty good.
Luke started checking them one by one. "Use the random secondary profession card."
A secondary profession was a fairly important type of skill. So far, none of the secondary professions Luke had gained had been useless.
He was pretty curious about this new one too.
[Used successfully.]
[Congratulations, Host. You have obtained Secondary Profession — Puppeteer LV6.]
As the system's voice faded, a flood of information poured into Luke's mind at once, like a cool spring flowing through his thoughts.
Time passed slowly as he gradually absorbed the knowledge.
Only after a good while did he open his eyes again.
This Puppeteer profession really was quite a good one.
As the name implied, it was related to puppets. It allowed Luke to master the process of crafting a delicate puppet and controlling it with mental force.
A puppet's strength depended on his mental force and the materials used to create it.
For example, if he made a puppet out of petricite, it would possess the property of absorbing magic. And if Luke were actually willing to spend the time, he could even build a puppet like Galio.
Though Luke very much doubted he would ever be willing to waste that much effort.
After all, Galio had been painstakingly crafted over several years by Durand, that master artisan of Demacia.
The idea of spending years focused on doing just one thing like that...
To Luke, that sounded even worse than death.
If he had that kind of time, he would much rather spend it lying around.
Come to think of it, Durand had most likely been a Puppeteer as well.
But after his assassination, it seemed much of his craft had been lost.
Even though House Menck was still an outstanding family of craftsmen, very few of them could now create a perfect petricite statue like Galio.
"Upgrade Puppeteer."
After thinking it over, Luke used the profession upgrade card he had just obtained.
[Puppeteer has been upgraded to LV7.]
The increase of a single level brought Luke quite a few new insights. His skill in crafting puppets improved again by a noticeable amount.
This secondary profession really was pretty solid.
Maybe it would come in handy someday.
For example, once he got back, he could build that sword-happy girl a sturdier sparring dummy.
Luke then spoke again in his mind. "Use the skill card. Upgrade Godspeed Tracking Arrow."
[Godspeed Tracking Arrow has been upgraded to LV7.]
As the system's voice faded, Luke immediately felt a warm sensation in his eyes, like a gentle spring washing over them. It was not uncomfortable at all. In fact, it felt quite pleasant.
Upgrading Godspeed Tracking Arrow improved Luke's eyesight, allowing him to see farther away and with greater clarity.
It was a very useful enhancement.
When he opened his eyes again, they looked even brighter and clearer than before, dazzling like polished gems and hard to look away from.
Then Luke turned his attention to the next reward and said silently, "Use the random skill card."
[Congratulations, Host. You have obtained Normal Skill: Breathing Technique LV9.]
At once, a strange new insight appeared within him. Luke felt a warm current moving through his chest.
Even the rhythm of his breathing changed along with it.
Then the system's voice rang out again.
[Compatible skill detected. Concealment Art has been upgraded to LV8.]
That notification made Luke's eyes light up. He had not expected a bonus reward on top of everything else.
This Breathing Technique really was the same type of skill as Concealment Art.
Both worked by adjusting one's breathing in order to alter one's presence to a certain degree.
What made Breathing Technique different was that it strengthened Luke's breathing, allowing him to enter a better resting state, and when used actively, it could also bring him into a kind of "clear" state.
In that state, every part of Luke's body would receive a slight improvement, his senses sharper, his reactions quicker.
For an ordinary skill, that was already a very respectable effect.
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