The Taiwan Server System in the League

She turned her head toward Chen Ce and asked softly, "That sword... does it handle well for you?"

"The Black Stone Rune Greatsword? It's excellent." As Chen Ce answered, he unslung the broken blade from his back and handed it, along with the cloth bag full of shards, back to her. "Thank you very much for your help. May the Spirit of Ionia guide you."

"..." Riven looked at the broken sword in silence. After a moment, she said softly, her tone filled with a sense of relief, "This sword no longer belongs to me."

"Hm?"

"It is yours now, Mr. Chen Ce."

"Wait, wait, wait..."

"Keeping it is of no use to me anymore—I have already found my path to redemption, and I have other things to remind me of the sins I have committed." Riven offered a smile; though still somewhat bitter, it was sincere and came from the heart.

"Take this sword as a gift. I have only one request—I hope you will use it to do good, Mr. Chen Ce."

Hearing this, Chen Ce stopped his awkward posturing and hesitation, instead accepting the gift with grace.

"Very well, I promise you."

"Thank you." Riven performed a traditional Ionian bow, her movements slightly stiff and clumsy. "May the Spirit of Ionia guide you."

She was trying very hard to integrate into this land. She wanted to atone for the mistakes she had made in the past.

She did not ask for forgiveness, only for peace of mind.

This would surely be a long and arduous process, but she would give it her all.

Chen Ce stowed the broken sword away, then turned to salute Irelia, who had finally "broken free" from Karma's enthusiastic embrace.

"The time for the counterattack has come, my respected leader."

Emystan had always been a very composed person.

Born into nobility, she had received the elite education typical of her class since childhood. She officially joined the military at fourteen and, through her family's influence, quickly became a junior officer. To outsiders, her future seemed bright, and her promotion to commander felt entirely natural.

But only a very few knew that her rise to this position was not due to her family's help—or at least, not entirely.

It was due, in much larger part, to her cruelty and cold-blooded tactics.

Hidden beneath her elegant and luxurious exterior was a heart that bordered on madness.

She never viewed those "inferior" to her as human, nor did she believe their lives held any value—be it enemy or ally.

In her eyes, if the death of those "lower beings" had value, they should be pushed into the fire without a moment's hesitation.

Even her adjutant, who had served her faithfully for years, was ruthlessly murdered by her during a gala for the elite—she had drawn an exquisite dinner knife across that soft neck until the artery ruptured and blood sprayed forth.

All because killing that adjutant would earn her the favor of the [Black Rose].

It was a test... or rather, a pledge of loyalty.

As those eyes, filled with shock and confusion, gradually lost their focus, she heard a voice—a melodious, enchanting voice that came from the darkness.

After that, she became a follower of the Pale Lady.

She firmly believed that the Pale Lady could lead her to the pinnacle of power in Noxus—no, in the entire world.

She firmly believed that the Pale Lady would help her become the new hegemon of this world, conquering this beautiful, desirable world with blades, gunpowder, and iron hooves.

She firmly believed that the Pale Lady could control any situation, no matter the circumstances.

Just like now, even though she had received news of the front lines collapsing and the enemy closing in, she was not the least bit flustered.

Because she trusted that the immensely powerful Pale Lady would help her overcome this crisis.

After all, it was under the Pale Lady's orders that she had come here—including those powerful alchemical weapons, which had only been transported from Zaun at the Pale Lady's suggestion.

She believed in the Pale Lady.

And the Pale Lady did not disappoint her expectations.

The moment the sound of hoofbeats echoed from afar, the magic crystal ball on her desk suddenly lit up.

Following that came that melodious, enchanting voice—the voice of the Pale Lady. It was as captivating as ever.

"You failed, Emystan."

"I am terribly sorry, my respected Pale Lady." Emystan immediately knelt on one knee, her eyes filled with guilt and adoration, her expression devoid of any resentment.

There was only a willing submission.

"I am so foolish to have failed your expectations... I did not anticipate that Ionia would have a second wind-wielding swordsman, causing the weapon you gifted me to be destroyed..."

"This is not your fault; you have done very well." The Pale Lady's voice continued from within the magic crystal ball. "You utilized the intelligence you had to the absolute limit; your strategy had no flaws. It was circumstances outside of your intelligence that led to your failure, not an error in your planning."

"Thank you so much for your forgiveness," Emystan maintained her humble, kneeling posture. "I am filled with guilt."

"Then... why don't you compensate me with your actions, how about that?"

"It is my duty. You may command me as you wish."

"No matter the order, you will obey?"

"Naturally."

"That sounds wonderful..." The Pale Lady paused slightly, followed by a melodious, light laugh.

"Then... go and die for me, will you?"

"Hmm?" Emystan froze for a moment.

Before she could react, the beautiful magic crystal ball in her hand began to emit waves of chilling magical energy.

The next instant, she felt something clamp around her throat—the force was so immense that she felt herself on the verge of suffocating and losing consciousness in a heartbeat.

"The mission has failed, and you have become useless." The Pale Lady's voice remained gentle, yet it revealed a terrifying indifference.

"You know far too much. If you were to fall into the hands of the Ionians alive... it would cause me a great deal of trouble. Do you understand?"

"..." Emystan wore a look of agony, her hands clawing frantically at her own neck.

Regrettably, one cannot grasp magic with mere hands.

Even as she tore her skin to shreds and blood streamed down, it was of no use.

Perhaps in this final moment, she thought of many things—of her loyalty, or perhaps she was bewildered by the Pale Lady's abandonment.

But none of that mattered anymore.

With the sound of bones compressing, grinding, and colliding, her sinful life came to an end.

She died in a small, unseen room.

This did not befit her noble status.

But the Pale Lady she served and followed was quite fond of such settings.

After a surge of magical energy, "Emystan" stood up once more.

There were no ligature marks or signs of struggle on her fair neck, and her complexion appeared perfectly normal.

She picked up the magic crystal ball, which had now lost its power.

Her elegant and noble face was reflected on the surface of the orb.

"Emystan... what a lovely name. I am Emystan, simply Emystan."

Emystan had once been very confident in her battle group—she had not only mobilized a large number of Noxian soldiers, alchemical weapons, and Sion from Noxus, but had also brought her forces in Ionia to the Placidium, seemingly certain she could take the city in one fell swoop.

It was precisely because of this confidence that she hadn't bothered to conceal her army's marching route, leading to the exposure of her camp's location—this wasn't negligence, but rather the belief that hiding one's tracks from a group of dead men was entirely unnecessary.

Unfortunately, the reality was vastly different from what she had envisioned.

Her battle group suffered a crushing defeat, and the war machine she had begged from the Pale Lady—Sion—was killed by the Resistance Army, causing the situation to reverse in an instant.

Not only that, but Chen Ce had led a large army along the very route she had used to dispatch her troops, tracking them down and completely surrounding her camp.

Chen Ce really ought to thank her for her confidence.

Otherwise, he wouldn't have found these "remnants" so easily.

Karma and Irelia had come along as well, and with their absolute numerical superiority, these stragglers had no hope of making a comeback.

Wiping them out was merely a matter of time.

"I'll go straight for their leader; I'll leave the rest to you two," Chen Ce said to them. "There's no rush, so don't be reckless—safety first. Especially you, Irelia, you're still injured. You really could have stayed at the camp to rest."

"If you think I need to be bedridden for such a minor injury, you're underestimating me," Irelia shot him a look. "And are you giving me orders now? Have you forgotten who the leader is? Hmm?"

"Cough, cough... That would be you, of course, my dear leader, the beautiful Miss Irelia."

"Then how dare you tell me what to do?"

"I wouldn't dream of it..."

"Honestly." Irelia feigned anger and pinched his cheek, but she couldn't keep the act up and sighed softly.

She stepped forward to hug him, her tone softening: "You be careful too. If you run into any trouble, make sure to call for help immediately."

"Understood." Chen Ce smiled in response, then immediately headed deep into the Noxian camp.

Ahri, the worker who didn't belong to the Resistance and served only Chen Ce, followed him.

Outside, the Resistance soldiers began to tighten the encirclement, and the battle erupted instantly.

Chen Ce did not use the Black Stone Rune Greatsword that Riven had given him; instead, he wielded only a spear, cutting deep into the Noxian camp without the slightest pressure, tossing aside countless Noxian soldiers along the way.

It was a pity he lacked a Magnolia White Dragon Steed, otherwise, he would have truly resembled Zhao Zilong of Changshan.

If only Ahri were a horse instead of a fox—the kind you could ride whenever you wanted.

"Why are you looking at This Concubine like that...?" Ahri suddenly felt his gaze was a bit off. "You aren't thinking of doing anything strange to This Concubine, are you...?"

"No, I was just thinking how nice it would be if you could be ridden," Chen Ce said frankly.

"Oh, oh, This Concubine thought you were up to no good again. As for riding... how about I let you ride me when we sleep tonight? That wouldn't be difficult at all." Ahri was quite confident in her physical stamina; carrying Chen Ce's hundred-plus pounds was no problem at all.

"But you can only ride for a little while, okay? Just treat it like a little game. If you keep riding This Concubine, This Concubine will get very tired."

"Forget it, I was just joking." Chen Ce laughed, then, upon seeing the building that likely housed Emystan, he said seriously: "Actually, I do have a favor to ask of you later."

"What is it? If it's something This Concubine can do, I'll definitely help you!"

"I'm going to capture a vicious woman in a moment, and I need you to help me extract her memories—I want to know some things. Things about the 'Black Rose'."

"Black Rose? This Concubine doesn't know what that is... Never mind, in any case, I just need to tell you everything I find in that woman's memories, right?"

"Hmm, that should do it."

"Gotcha, no problem at all~"

With that, the two finished off the Noxus soldiers before them and strode toward the most imposing, luxurious-looking house—it was truly the Noxian aristocratic style, insisting on extravagance even in a structure hastily erected during wartime.

Pushing the door open, they saw a graceful, opulent woman sitting upright at a desk. Her ten fair fingers, clearly well-maintained, were crossed beneath her chin to support her head. There was not a hint of panic on her face, only composure and elegance.

"Good afternoon, Ionian Resistance Army warrior, Wind-Walking Swordsman, Mr. Chen Ce."

"I'm not doing well, Emystan." Chen Ce shrugged, a cold glint flashing across the long spear in his hand. "And you'll soon be doing just as poorly as I am."

"Oh, you're so impatient... No matter what we encounter, we always have time to sit down for a cup of tea, don't we?"

"But I have no desire to drink your tea, you vicious woman."

"And yet I still wanted to chat with you... Very well, it seems that is out of the question."

"Indeed, I won't waste any more breath on you—besides, I'll know everything soon enough—by extracting it all from the memories in your mind."

Having said that, Chen Ce stepped forward slowly, intending to seize this pampered, powerless noblewoman and subject her to a brutal interrogation—though, of course, he would let Ahri do the torturing.

Emystan seemed to have accepted her fate; she offered no resistance throughout the process and was soon bound by her wrists.

But just as Ahri prepared to step forward and harvest her memories, Chen Ce suddenly spun around and thrust his spear—yes, he thrust it directly at her.

Ahri froze, failing to dodge, and instinctively squeezed her eyes shut in terror.

Yet, the pain she imagined never came.

She only heard a deafening blast.

Opening her eyes, she saw blood streaming down Chen Ce's right arm as he held his spear.

Then, she caught a whiff of a strange scent in the air.