Chapter Ten Arriving in Ionia

The following section is excerpted from the official League of Legends lore: Homecoming

Withered leaves fluttered, the forest rustled. A remnant wind howled, the mountains sighed.

Yi floated inches above the ground, eyes closed, hands pressed together, listening to the morning song of the Baruo birds.

A cool breeze brushed his exposed face, ruffling his eyebrows.

He let out a quiet sigh and slowly descended until his boots met the soil. He opened his eyes and smiled. The clear sky was a rare and pleasant sight.

Yi patted the dust from his robes, finding a few stray hairs. Most were black, but a few were white, like wild silk.

How long has it been? he wondered to himself.

He slung a canvas pack over his shoulder and continued on his way, leaving behind a forest that had once teemed with life but was now still.

Yi looked down the mountain, glancing back at the path he had traveled.

The land below was soft, fragile—a treasure to be protected.

He looked ahead, continuing to climb. On the path before him, lilies were withering, their colorful petals turned a sickly brown.

"Didn't expect to see people on the mountain," a voice called out.

He stopped and listened carefully, his hand tightening on the sword at his hip.

"Are you here for the livestock too?" the voice grew closer.

"Stupid beasts. They always wander in here and can't get out."

Yi saw an old peasant woman approaching, and he relaxed his grip on his sword. She wore a simple shift, patched with scraps of rough cloth on the outside.

As she reached him, Yi bowed.

"Oh, I'm no nun, no need for such formalities," she said. "You don't look like someone who works the fields, and those swords of yours aren't for cutting grass. What brings you here?"

"The weather is nice, just taking a stroll," Yi replied, feigning innocence.

"So you're here to practice your swordplay? Is Noxus coming back so soon?" she said with a laugh.

"Where the sun sets, the sun will set."

The peasant woman snorted. She knew the old proverb. Most people in the southern provinces did.

"Well, tell them to let me know when they get back. I'll take a boat and leave this island then. But for now, how about using that sword of yours to help a trembling old woman?"

She beckoned for Yi to follow her.

He did not refuse.

They arrived next to a patch of woods. A young takin was moaning in pain, its hind legs caught fast in thick vines. The more it struggled, the tighter they wound.

"That one over there is Lasha," the farmer explained. "He's a bit of a dimwit, but he's got some use if he can be gotten away from this cursed ridge and back to the fields."

"You think this mountain is cursed?" Yi asked, half-kneeling beside the small animal.

He stroked its furry back with one palm, feeling its muscles twitch and spasm.

The farmer crossed her arms.

"Something's gone wrong here, anyway," she answered, nodding toward the peak. "Without the natural magic, this land demands to be filled with matter, even to the taking of life when necessary. If it were up to me, I'd burn it all down."

Yi stared at the vines. He hadn't expected to see them this far from the summit.

"I'll think of something," he murmured, drawing two knives from the copper sheaths on his boots.

The instant he brought the steel blades close to the writhing vines, they seemed to recoil.

The moment stretched and lingered. Beads of sweat stung Yi's exposed face.

He closed his eyes.

"Ime," he chanted in the old tongue. "Ibe."

The takin broke free, letting out a joyful, high-pitched cry. The severed vines drooped on the ground like shed skin. The young animal bounded down the mountain, celebrating its freedom, the farmer chasing after it.

She caught the takin with both hands, hugging it tight.

"Thank you!"

She shouted, not realizing Yi had already continued on his way.

She yelled after his retreating back, "Hey! I forgot to ask. What kind of sword do you practice? The war is over, you know..."

He didn't look back.

My war is not over.

An hour later, he reached the blighted lands. The remains of a village lay scattered around him, the same vines having invaded here.

This was Wuji. This had been home.

Yi made his way toward the graveyard, past the wreckage of fallen pillars and carved stones, of homes and schools and shrines—all broken pieces jumbled together. His parents' workshop was lost among the rubble. There was nothing for him to mourn, and no time.

The cemetery he paid respects at was arranged in a perfect, symmetrical layout, with gaps between the graves for passage. For people like Yi.

"May your memories be eternal in the boundless void."

He touched the hilt of each sword planted in the ground. These were his memories of warriors, teachers, and apprentices. He didn't miss a single sword.

"May your names be remembered by the world."

"Please rest in peace."

His voice quickly grew weary.

The sky was stained with an orange-red hue, and there were three more graves he hadn't touched. Before the nearest grave lay a hammer, its head already rusted by the mountain's dampness.

Yi took a peach from his cloth bag and placed it before the grave.

"Master Doran, Wukong sent this. He couldn't come with me, but he wanted me to give you his favorite fruit. He really loved his staff, and even more, he loved mocking the helmet you gave me."

He walked to the last two graves, where golden scabbards awaited before them.

"Ima, the weather is pleasant today. Ibe... I hope you like warm weather."

Yi drew two short swords and slid them into the scabbards before his parents' graves. They fit perfectly. He solemnly knelt and bowed his head deeply.

"May the wisdom of you both continue to guide me."

He stood up and reached into his cloth bag, taking out his helmet.

The afternoon sun glinted off its seven lenses, each reflecting a different sheen.

He held the helmet to his chest, his mind recalling the lily garden that once stood here.

Before the screams.

Before the magic that twisted this land with acid and poison.

He put on the helmet, and everything around him filled his vision like a kaleidoscope. He clasped his hands together, closed his eyes, and calmed his mind. His mind was empty. No thoughts, no desires. His feet left the ground, though he himself didn't know it.

He opened his eyes and saw everything. Death and decay, with barely any sign of life.

He saw spirits dwelling in another realm.

They were entangled by vines like that poor antelope, their essence slowly weakening.

He knew that any spirit strong enough would break free from its bonds and abandon this land saturated with malevolent energy.

Those who remained here were corrupted... or soon would be.

Painful, sorrowful cries echoed in the air.

Yi himself had also cried out in pain, but that was a long time ago—back when he still thought tears could bring back the departed.

He blinked, and the material world returned. For a moment, he pretended the burden on his shoulders didn't exist. Then, he blinked again.

The spirits continued to wail.

Yi drew his ringed sword.

He became an afterimage and charged out, sweeping across the entire area like the changing of seasons, leaving only traces for people to confirm he had been there.

After a flash, he was back where he started, perfectly still, his sword sheathed.

The vines collapsed one by one. Some slid off the fallen roofs, others shriveled in place.

He sat down cross-legged, taking it all in. Now the spirits sang with joy, and he knew no greater thanks existed. They gradually dissipated, and the earth echoed their delight.

Peach blossoms budded from where the vines had coiled. Listless bamboo branches straightened up, like students called by name.

A fleeting smile creased Yi's face.

He took off his helmet and placed it deep in his cloth bag, hidden beneath his other travel gear. Fruit, nuts... charcoal, flint. Some things were for himself, some were for the complete purification of the land.

Not needed now. Not needed yet.

He took out a reed pen and a crumpled scroll. The paper was covered in symbols.

60

54

41

Yi had added a few strokes today. At the very bottom were a few more words.

Cleanup interval 30 days.

He knew that before long, he would have to grant the farmer's wife's wish and set his homeland ablaze.

But not now.

Not yet.

Finally, Jia Ruo and Neeko had set foot on Ionian soil.

After enduring three months at sea, the summer had also come to an end.

They did not continue following the merchant ships north along the coast; they were not going to Placidium.

The Captain tried his best to keep Jia Ruo, saying, "You brat, you're to my liking. Why not stick with me? It's quite carefree."

But Jia Ruo still smiled and refused.

"You young people always want to wander around. You won't know your own limits until you hit a wall. Take this."

The Captain handed Jia Ruo a flintlock pistol and a small pouch of ammunition.

"The western coast of Ionia isn't peaceful right now. Take it for self-defense."

Jia Ruo and Neeko disembarked at Baruo, the first province the merchant ship reached.

Jia Ruo had his own plans; he already knew who he wanted to find.

"As expected of a place called the Land of Birth."

Jia Ruo took a deep breath.

The magical elements here were exceptionally rich.

"This place smells a lot like Neeko's hometown!" Neeko commented as well.

"Let's go." Jia Ruo tightened the bracer on his right hand. Neeko always thought of Nidalee whenever she saw it.

Jia Ruo, however, was more concerned that the color of the fragment was slowly fading. It seemed like the mysterious energy within had already transferred a lot to him, yet his combat power hadn't seemed to improve at all.

He had been absorbing magical elements into his body for half a year, but his physical capabilities were only comparable to the strongest sailors. He could feel it when wrestling with them.

On the merchant ship, during the vast stretches of boring time, those rough men would occasionally wrestle, and they'd set up gambling on the side.

Jia Ruo often joined in the wrestling matches; it was a great opportunity to train.

By the time the ship neared Ionia, only the Captain could still take him down.

Although this bearded fellow never seemed serious, his skills were no joke. He could always find Jia Ruo's weakness and swiftly flip him onto the deck, then boast proudly amidst the cheers of the onlookers.

He actually felt a little reluctant to leave the Captain.

Jia Ruo snapped out of his memories and touched the flintlock pistol tucked into his belt.

"Fellow villager, could you tell me the way?"

He stopped a fisherman on the docks and asked.

"How do I get to Wuji Village?"