Chapter 238

The guard's footsteps sounded quickly, but it was too late.

"Farewell... to the cage!"

Chapter Ninety-Four: The Big One is Coming!

Sylas once served this country.

Demacia... this hypocritical nation that views mages as a scourge.

He once held hope, respect, and love for this country. Although he was born into a poor family in a border town, his life was practically over before it even began, but his parents remained steadfast in their support for the kingdom's ideals.

So when the poor couple discovered that their son was "possessed" by the demon, they advised Sylas to turn himself in to the Mageseekers.

Driven by his love for his family and country, Sylas did as instructed.

The Mageseekers discovered that the boy possessed the extraordinary ability to sense magic, so they used him to find mages in the city-state. For the first time in his life, Sylas felt that he had been put to good use.

He steadfastly carried out his mission, hoping to dedicate his life to his country. He was proud, but also lonely—he could not have contact with anyone except through his own discipline.

During the days of searching for the "Black Mage," Sylas gradually realized that magic existed far more prevalent than Demacia was willing to admit. Even in wealthy households and noble families, he could sense the Shimmer of hidden magic.

Some of these individuals are even among the most radical representatives who slander Buddhist monks.

However, only those of lowly birth who were corrupted by demons were punished; these high-ranking officials seemed to be completely above the law. This hypocritical system sowed the first seed of doubt in Sylas's mind.

Finally, in a dangerous incident, as if by fate, the many doubts in his heart finally erupted—

He happened to meet a hidden mage in the countryside. But when Sylas discovered that she was just a little girl, he felt pity for her. He wanted to protect the girl from being taken away by the Mageseekers, but accidentally touched her skin.

The next moment, the girl's magic surged into Sylas's body—but instead of killing him, it erupted uncontrollably from his palm. This was a talent he himself had never realized. Yet, the result was the deaths of three people, including his own tutor.

What followed was a brief escape and then perpetual imprisonment.

His name appeared on wanted posters throughout the streets and alleys, the bright red letters proclaiming him as "[One of the most dangerous Black Mage in all of Demacia]".

He was forced to wear heavy shackles made of Petricite and suffered torture in the darkest dungeons of the Mageseekers. His ability to sense magic was stripped away, and his heart slowly hardened. Sylas dreamed of revenge against those who had wronged him.

Fifteen years... He had spent a full fifteen years in the dark, stinking dungeon.

His unkempt face was now covered in a beard, and his increasingly long hair was tied back like a young girl's.

Only today did he shave off his beard for the first time.

It uses...

The Mageseekers Seeker's sharp blade.

"You damned traitors... utterly hypocritical..."

Sylas viciously grabbed a Mageseekers by the neck until the man died.

He used the sword of the Mageseekers to shave off his beard, and the broken mirror reflected his weathered and cruel face.

He used the magic within the Petricite to destroy the prison that had imprisoned him for fifteen years, and the commotion attracted countless Mageseekers and patrolmen.

But it's okay.

Because... he is not alone now.

"Brothers and sisters, stand up!" Sylas shouted, raising his arms, the Petricite chains on his wrists clanging, but they couldn't drown out his hoarse roar.

"We've had enough of betrayal! We've had enough of oppression!"

"Our rights are inherent!"

"A crown is for everyone!"

Within the deep dungeon imprisoning countless "Black Mage," a single call rang out, and countless unfortunate people, wronged and framed, broke free from their cages.

The staircase leading to the outside world spirals upwards, and the increasingly dazzling sunlight has paved the way for their freedom.

The prison guards and the Mageseekers who rushed to the scene were no match for the enraged mages; blood and screams filled the beautiful afternoon.

Surrounded by the crowd, Sylas slowly walked out of the dungeon. The sunlight, unseen for fifteen years, stung his eyes, making them almost impossible to open.

A feeling of warmth... how long has it been since I felt it...

Sylas looked down again at the Petricite shackles on his hands.

He could easily destroy it now, but he didn't—the very constraints that once bound his freedom have now become his most powerful weapon.

He had already deciphered the secret of the Petricite from the book Eldred had given him.

While this is crucial for Demacia's fight against dangerous magic, the Petricite doesn't suppress magic; instead, it absorbs and seals its energy...

This means that he can retrieve the magical energy stored inside.

The method was his innate ability—the ability that landed him in jail for fifteen years—

[Guide, absorb, and release the magic you come into contact with]

He can freely use the magic power within the Petricite.

As long as those Petricite contain magic power.

That... magic power stolen from other innocent mages.

He wanted to avenge all the innocent magicians.

He intends to defeat the Demacia their most prized "weapon."

He wanted to pull the king down from his throne.

Then...

Crush.

After leaving Lux's house, Chen Ce headed straight for the royal palace.

The same high walls, the same guards... With just one trick [Deceive], he easily entered the palace.

He swaggered toward the king's main hall.

"Who are you!" Finally, the soldiers guarding the main hall's gate spotted the uninvited guest. "Stop!"

One man stood ready with a weapon in hand, while the other prepared to ring the alarm bell—they were highly vigilant.

But being vigilant alone is clearly not enough.

"Excuse me, please take a short rest." Chen Ce bowed politely, then his figure instantly "disappeared".

When he "reappeared" again, he was already by the door.

He removed the longsword from his waist, hilt and all, while the two well-trained guards had already passed out.

Pushing open the door, another puzzled face came into view.

King Jarvan III looked at the newcomer with suspicion, suddenly confused about what was going on—he shouldn't have summoned anyone, should he?

The messenger didn't speak... even the guards at the door...

This is...?

"Who are you?" Jarvan III had already sensed a hint of danger, but having held a high position for many years, he was able to maintain sufficient elegance and composure under pressure.

"Someone who came to discuss important national affairs with you."

Chen Ce did not reveal his name, nor did he use any honorifics when addressing the old king before him.

He merely glanced casually at the main hall.

Jarvan IV is no longer alive; perhaps his discussions with his father failed?

Perhaps Jarvan IV is currently hiding in some corner, complaining to Garen about his father arranging his marriage without his consent... or something like that.

"Discuss?" Jarvan III sat up slightly. "Then I think you should first report the situation to my ministers, and then have a messenger inform me of your arrival."

There was already a hint of blame in those words.

It even... sounds like they're going to severely punish the other party.

Unauthorized entry into the main hall of the royal palace is essentially a capital offense punishable by death.

The death of his friend Barrett and recent troubles have left the old king in a bad mood, and he may become more severe in his approach to punishments.

He raised one hand, preparing to make a "take him down" gesture.

But Chen Ce simply smiled and continued forward.

Although his longsword remained sheathed, the threat was still there—bringing a weapon into the palace and ignoring warnings as he approached the king...

Alright, this is a capital offense.

"You rude scoundrel!"

A cold glint appeared in his peripheral vision; Chen Ce sensed danger.

Clang--!

The instant the metallic clang rang out, he felt a force far beyond that of ordinary people—a fine steel spear clashing with his sword.

The "divine weapon" Muramana was naturally unharmed, but the scabbard that contained it was not so lucky.

The scabbard was pierced by the spear, leaving a hole.

The sword sheath, which even dozens of Dauntless Vanguard couldn't break when attacked together, was easily pierced by that spear.

The differences in their weapons' materials and forging techniques were not particularly significant—the main reason being the gap in their martial arts skills.

The person who wields this spear is one of the top martial arts masters in all of Demacia.

Xin Zhao, the Seneschal of Demacia, is the king's personal bodyguard and the prince's spear instructor.

"Top-notch marksmanship." From a personal perspective, Chen Ce held this close-combat master in high regard.

He was able to survive and establish a foothold in Ionia thanks to his "Three Talon Strike".

If it weren't for that move, he wouldn't have been able to rise from an ordinary person to the position of the Resistance Army squad leader, and then everything that happened afterward... Xin Zhao deserves his respect.

There were very few people in all of Demacia whom he really didn't want to fight.

"Your reaction speed isn't bad either." Xin Zhao assumed a fighting stance, his sharp eyes alert for any possible angle of attack.

He was already quite old—around forty or fifty—but his physical strength was something even the swordsman captain of the Dauntless Vanguard couldn't match.

He stood ramrod straight, his impeccable aura making him seem like an invincible spear.

"I admire your strength, young man," Xin Zhao said in a low voice, like a dragon about to unleash its fury. "But you have committed a capital offense... Surrender obediently, and perhaps I can spare your life."

Faced with this "persuasion to surrender," Chen Ce couldn't help but smile.

He really didn't want to fight Xin Zhao, but there were some things... he had to do.

Moreover, this is not contradictory.

"I apologize, Steward." Chen Ce sheathed his sword. "Today, I must show disrespect to our great king."

"Then prepare to die!" Xin Zhao shouted as he charged forward.

Chen Ce simply stood there with his hands hanging down.

Until the tip of that fine steel spear was less than half a meter away from him.

A malevolent power surged within him.

In an instant, fear enveloped the spear... and surged towards Xin Zhao, who wielded it...

He suddenly felt a nameless fear... a fear deeper than death... He thought he saw something...

It was that arena... the arena that almost took his life...

The Noxus Grand Chancellor's ugly face was right there on the stage... Countless nobles, yearning to see blood, raised their arms and shouted...

The door opened... and hundreds of death row inmates rushed in... they were all gladiators...

"No...!" Xin Zhao suddenly let out a scream.

The next moment, the spear in his hand fell to the ground, and he collapsed to the ground as well.

His eyes were filled with fear, and he kept muttering incomprehensible nonsense... as if he had fallen into some kind of frenzy.

That indescribable fear had taken over his mind.

In an instant, the kingdom's strongest warrior fell.