Chapter 107
"Could you send another clone over so I can touch it? I promise this time I won't use any force, just a gentle touch, without any intention of attacking."
"..." LeBlanc gritted her teeth.
After a long silence, she finally managed to squeeze out two words through gritted teeth:
"Abnormal..."
The next moment, she, who was only a clone, gradually dissipated like a forgotten magic.
Chen Ce was left alone in the room again.
Although he couldn't use the opponent's clone to test again, nor could he stack a second layer of "steel," he wasn't discouraged at all.
Because he was already 80% certain of the test results—the damage caused by Heartsteel could be determined by subjective will!
In other words, I can now use my own people to build steel without any restraint!
When LeBlanc comes again, we can even use the alliance as leverage to get her to create more clones so we can tank for her—if it's confirmed that LeBlanc's clones can also stack steel like in the Rift.
Endless stacking of steel, an ever-growing vitality!
Steel, in the end, becomes almost immortal!
Even if the Void descends, there will still be a glimmer of hope!
Chen Ce became more and more excited as he thought about it, and suddenly felt like he had escaped death—in that instant, he became even more convinced of his previous idea.
The world quest is gone, but it actually means he needs to go to other countries and regions to find other "heroes"—as long as he collects enough interaction rewards and stacks up everything he can, there might be a turning point in the Void Descent!
He paced back and forth in the room, a satisfied smile on his face.
Finally, he stopped and looked out the window in a certain direction—the direction of the room where Ahri, Syndra, Irelia, and the others were.
Now, let's start with the simplest things.
The steel stacking process allows for a full 24 hours of cooling time; every second that can be used for stacking must not be wasted...
Since they can be stacked with just a touch, then...
The process of replenishing their mana... could it also be... cough cough um...
After all, replenishing mana is much more intense than casually touching LeBlanc...
Chapter 112 Setting Sail, Embarking on a New Journey!
Noxus has changed.
Although Swain's meticulous planning had taken many years, he and his cronies seized power in Noxus overnight. With his demon-repaired body, he crushed Darkwill before all his followers. The throne stood empty and shattered.
This day is destined to be one of the most extraordinary days in Noxus history.
From that day forward, soldiers no longer needed to shout "For Darkwill!" before battle; they only needed to silently chant "For Noxus!"
The empire should not belong to any single individual, but to all those who own it.
A leader's job is to make decisions, not to be stubborn and try to rule everything.
Swain understood this well through his limited observations of ravens and years of learning.
Just one day after executing his "former" Grand President Braum Darkwill, he swiftly rallied his associates to launch a purge against the Black Rose, an underground organization that had been lurking deep within the Empire and secretly controlling it for countless years.
This was destined to be a bold and bloody operation.
Countless members of the Black Rose were captured by his "scavengers" and publicly executed, in order to declare two things to the citizens of the Empire—
First, anyone who is detrimental to the empire, hinders its development, or attempts to manipulate the empire for personal gain will die a gruesome death at the executioner's hands.
Secondly, even such a mysterious underground black magic organization could not escape the Raven's Eyes. The same was true for others.
When those nearly one hundred heads were hung high on the flagpole at the top of the arena, everyone knew that this was not a naive and ridiculous "betrayal".
Swain is serious.
He gained the power of the devil.
He wants to change the status quo, to change all of Noxus.
Some cheered while others grieved, but Swain himself paid no heed to the rumors—he knew that the Black Rose wouldn't be so easily uprooted, nor would the increasingly corrupt and decadent empire be so easily changed.
Those nearly one hundred dead were almost all pawns abandoned by the "Pale Lady".
Darkwill's death was merely the first step in the reform process.
He still has a lot to do.
Standing atop Darkwill's former palace, gazing at the shattered throne, his severed arm, now assimilated by demons, once again peeked from his coat.
Noxus doesn't need an emperor...
"The empire is no longer controlled by one person..."
"Issue the order to withdraw all expeditionary forces!"
As the sound of the throne shattering completely faded, Draven, wielding his blood-stained double axes, laughed.
"Noxus is about to rise..."
The endless blizzard started again.
The bright sun lingered for less than half an hour, the gray and cold sky almost obscuring everything.
The snow had soaked through Darius's iron boots. With each step, he could feel the icy water squeezing from his heels to his toes, like a skinning knife scraping across the soles of his feet.
The biting wind and the piercing pain caused even the Hand of Noxus to feel significant discomfort in this environment.
As for the other soldiers, needless to say.
The snow, almost waist-deep, seeped into everyone's clothes. The extreme cold and exhaustion from marching day and night caused many soldiers to collapse along the way, and the "survivors" who were still persevering were in no better shape—their taut nerves could break at any moment.
The number of soldiers who have fallen in the past few days is enormous; almost an entire battle group has been buried in this endless snowstorm.
Because this is Freljord.
The far north of Runeterra.
This place experiences extreme cold for 365 days a year, as if the warm sun has a grudge against something here, and is forever unwilling to let its warm sunlight shine on this land.
Even when the sun occasionally shines through, it's only a tiny, stingy glimpse—like the sun that only appeared for less than half an hour just now.
The snow that had only partially melted felt even colder in the ensuing blizzard.
Attacking Freljord is clearly not a wise move...
Freljord needs to fight, but not now...
No, it shouldn't be like this...
The Northern Expeditions, which lasted for several years, yielded no results. Wave after wave of soldiers died, and the entire army had lost its former high morale.
Those barbarians from the frigid lands were not easy to deal with, and the logistics forces lacked sufficient supplies. This campaign had devolved into a protracted war of attrition and guerrilla warfare that was destined to fail!
The president's decision was wrong!
Absolutely wrong!
"Well!"
Darius sighed heavily, and the black axe that symbolized glory was driven into the thick snow, standing as straight as a javelin.
He looked around at the soldiers, and almost every face was etched with exhaustion.
The Empire's reinforcements haven't arrived in a long time... He thought, without an influx of fresh blood, and with veterans constantly dying in battle, continuing like this would only lead to an even more devastating defeat.
What exactly was Braum Darkwill thinking?
In this brief moment of reflection, several more glorious imperial warriors fell in the snow and ice—they should have been fighting bravely on the battlefield and making great contributions, but instead, they froze to death in this desolate wasteland!
How pathetic! How laughable!
"Damn it... damn it...!" Darius suddenly felt angry, but he didn't know who or what he was angry at.
His frost-covered fingers gripped the axe handle tightly, and the hot breath he exhaled continuously formed white mist in the cold air.
He was angry, confused, and guilty... It shouldn't have been like this!
He waited a long time, but never received any new orders from the Grand Commander, nor any letters from the Empire.
Until today—until he caught a glimpse of the dragon lizard rider's blurry figure in a white blizzard.
Clatter, clatter... The dragon lizard always makes some strange and terrifying sounds when it runs, which can send chills down your spine.
A dragon lizard rider stopped in front of them.
He leaped off the dragon's back and then gave a respectful military salute, his movements impeccable and powerful—clearly, he was not one of the legion members who had been starving for days.
"Sir, there's a letter for you," he said. "It's an urgent letter from the capital; it's worn out two dragon lizards from running around."
Darius's swollen eyes looked at the letter the other party handed him.
He saw the sign of the Immortal Bastion.
But that was not the mark of the Grand President.
In an instant, he realized something.
"The expedition should come to an end..."
Several days later in Ionia, Chen Ce sat alone in the conference room, waiting for something.
While waiting, he focused his attention on the armor on his chest.
Reddish-brown breastplate.
Exuding prestige and luxury.
Welcome to Steel Gate!
Feeling the increasingly powerful life force within him, he wished he could tattoo the words "Steel Gate" on his body and bow to them every day.
In the past few days, he's been battling every single hero around him—once a day.
Reality is not the Rift, and the vitality that grows cannot be measured by a fixed number, but the feeling of being full of energy within is very obvious.
In terms of practical performance... it's probably harder to die.
It's not that my body has hardened or that external objects are harder to break through my skin and flesh, but rather that if I am broken through, I'm not as easy to die from, nor am I as easy to lose my mobility due to the injury.
This can be seen in a small experiment this morning—cutting one's finger with a knife had almost no effect on the finger's movement.
It will hurt, but it won't make me weak or cause any other kind of pain.
That's really great, the Steel Gate with its strong sense of purpose is really impressive...
Chen Ce touched the Heartsteel on his chest and recalled the "sacrifices" he had made in the past few days to stack the steel... He could only say that every gain comes at a price.
Although being tortured by Irelia and Ahri was heroic, and being ravaged by Syndra with one bare foot and one foot covered in a sock was desperate... it was all worth it!
Bang! Just as Chen Ce was deep in thought, the conference room door was pushed open.
Immediately afterwards, a large group of people walked in from outside.
Some of these people were very familiar with the meeting room, but many more were unfamiliar with it—most of them were actually visiting for the first time.
Because many of them cannot be fully considered members of the Resistance Army —or rather, they are only on the periphery of the Resistance Army and have no regular contact with the core of the Resistance Army led by Irelia.
Ahri, Syndra, Lillia, Riven, Samira, Sett, the Yasuo Yone brothers, Lee Sin, and Udyr.
And Irelia and Karma were walking at the very front.
"Everyone's here." Irelia quickly walked to Chen Ce's side and asked in a low voice, "Did you suddenly call us here for something? And this list of attendees... I don't quite understand it."
She knew almost everyone in the conference room, but she didn't understand what was special about them, let alone why Chen Ce specifically wanted to see them.
If it's a meeting of high-ranking Resistance Army... but most of these people are just peripheral members of the Resistance Army.
Furthermore, if Chen Ce wanted to hold a small meeting with someone he trusted, why would he choose Samira, an outsider from Noxus?
Don't know...
"I have something to discuss with you," Chen Ce replied with a smile, then turned to look at the other eleven people.
He paused deliberately.