In the League, but with the Taiwan Server System

She turned to Chen Ce and asked softly, "That sword... is it still serving you well?"

"The Black Stone Rune Greatsword? It's great." As he answered, Chen Ce took the broken sword off his back and handed it to her along with a cloth bag full of sword fragments. "Thank you so much for your help. May the Spirit of Ionia guide you."

"..." Riven stared silently at the broken sword. After a moment, she spoke softly, sounding resigned. "This sword doesn't belong to me anymore."

"Hm?"

"It's yours now, Mr. Chen."

"Wait, wait, wait..."

"There's no use in keeping it—I've already found my path to redemption, and there are other things to remind me of the sins I've committed." Riven smiled. The smile was still a little bitter, but it was sincere, from the heart.

"Please take the sword. I have only one request—I hope you'll use it to do good, Mr. Chen."

Hearing this, Chen Ce stopped pretending to refuse and accepted the gift without hesitation.

"Alright. I promise."

"Thank you." Riven gave a slightly stiff, awkward bow in the traditional Ionian style. "May the Spirit of Ionia guide you."

She was trying hard to fit in with this land. She wanted to atone for the mistakes she had made.

Not to earn forgiveness, but only to find peace within herself.

It would surely be a long and arduous process, but she would give it everything she had.

Chen Ce put the broken sword away again, then turned and saluted Irelia, who had finally "escaped" from Karma's enthusiastic embrace.

"The time has come to counterattack, my respected leader."

Emystan had always been a very composed person.

Born into nobility, she had received the kind of education reserved for the elite from an early age. She formally joined the army at fourteen, and, with her family's influence, quickly rose to become a junior officer. To outsiders, her future seemed bright, and her eventual promotion to regimental commander seemed only natural.

But only a handful of people knew that she had reached her current position through more than just her family's help—or, rather, that her family's help was only part of the reason.

More than anything, it was thanks to her cruelty, ruthlessness, and cold-blooded methods.

Behind her dignified, elegant exterior lurked a nearly deranged heart.

She never treated anyone she considered "beneath" her as a person, nor did she think their lives were worth protecting—whether they were enemies or allies.

In her eyes, as long as the deaths of those "inferior people" served a purpose, they should be pushed into the flames without hesitation.

Even her adjutant, who had attended to her every need for years, had been ruthlessly killed by her at a certain aristocratic ball. She had drawn a delicate dinner knife across the soft skin of his neck until his artery burst and blood gushed out.

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

It had been a test... or, rather, a token of allegiance.

As the astonished, bewildered look in his eyes slowly faded, she heard a voice—a pleasant, melodious 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—or, no, in the entire world.

She firmly believed that the Pale Lady could help her become the new ruler of the world, conquering this beautiful, alluring place with swords, gunpowder, and iron hooves.

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

Just like now. Even after receiving word that the front lines had collapsed and the enemy was bearing down on her, she remained completely calm.

Because she firmly believed that the immensely powerful Pale Lady would help her through this crisis.

After all, she had come here at the Pale Lady's command. The powerful alchemical weapons had also been brought over from Zaun at the Pale Lady's suggestion.

She believed in the Pale Lady.

And the Pale Lady had not let her down.

The moment the sound of hooves pounding the ground reached her from afar, the magic crystal ball on her desk suddenly lit up.

Then came that pleasant, melodious voice—the Pale Lady's voice. It was as captivating as ever.

"You failed, Emystan."

"I'm terribly sorry, my respected Pale Lady." Emystan immediately dropped to one knee. Her eyes were full of guilt and adoration, and there wasn't a trace of displeasure on her face.

Only willing devotion.

"I was so foolish to disappoint you... I never imagined Ionia had a second windrider. The weapon you gave me was destroyed because of it..."

"This isn't your fault. You've done very well." The Pale Lady's voice continued to come from the magic crystal ball. "You made the best possible use of the information you had. Your plan had no flaws. Your failure was caused by circumstances beyond the information you had, not by any unforeseen mistake."

"Thank you very much for forgiving me." Emystan remained on one knee, humbly bowing her head. "I am deeply ashamed."

"Then... why don't you make it up to me with your actions?"

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

"Will you obey any order I give you?"

"Of course."

"That sounds wonderful..." The Pale Lady paused briefly, then let out a pleasant, silvery laugh.

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

"Hm?" Emystan froze.

But before she could react, the beautiful magic crystal ball began to radiate waves of chilling magical energy.

The next moment, she felt something closing around her neck. The force was so great that she began to choke and grow faint almost instantly.

"You failed your mission, and you're no longer useful to me." The Pale Lady's voice remained gentle, but a terrifying coldness lay beneath it.

"You know too much. If you were captured alive by the Ionians... I'd have a lot of trouble. You understand, don't you?"

"..." Emystan grimaced in pain, her hands clawing desperately at her neck.

Unfortunately, magic couldn't be grabbed with bare hands.

No matter how badly she tore at her own neck, leaving the skin raw and bleeding, it made no difference.

Perhaps she thought of many things in that moment—her loyalty, or her confusion at the Pale Lady's betrayal.

But none of it mattered anymore.

With the crunching, scraping, and snapping of bone, her sinful life came to an end.

She died in a small room where no one could see her.

It was not a death befitting her noble status.

But the Pale Lady, to whom she had pledged her loyalty, liked this sort of setting.

After a surge of magic, "Emystan" stood up again.

Her fair neck showed no sign of strangulation or claw marks, and her complexion was perfectly normal.

She picked up the magic crystal ball, now drained of its magic.

Her dignified, elegant face was reflected in its surface.

"Emystan... what a lovely name. My name is Emystan. Just Emystan."

Chapter 62: LeBlanc, You're Too Baby!

Emystan had been very confident in her warband. She had brought a large force of Noxian soldiers, alchemical weapons, and Sion over from Noxus. She had also moved her troops in Ionia to Placidium, apparently confident that she could take the city in one fell swoop.

Because of that confidence, she hadn't even bothered to conceal the army's route, exposing the location of her warband's camp. It wasn't an oversight; she simply thought there was no need to hide their movements from a bunch of people who were about to die.

Unfortunately, reality had turned out completely differently from what she expected.

Her warband had been defeated, and Sion—the war machine she had requested from the Pale Lady—had been killed by the Resistance Army. The situation had turned around in an instant.

On top of that, Chen Ce had led his army along the route she had previously taken, straight to her camp, and surrounded it completely.

Chen Ce had to thank her for her confidence.

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

Karma and Irelia had come along too. With their overwhelming numerical advantage, the remnants of the enemy forces had no chance of causing any trouble.

Wiping them out was only a matter of time.

"I'll go straight for their leader. I'll leave the rest to you two," Chen Ce said. "It's fine if it takes a little longer. Don't rush in recklessly; your safety comes first—especially you, Irelia. You're still injured. You could've stayed at camp and rested."

"If you think I need to stay in bed over 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?"

"Ahem... Of course it's you, my dear leader, the beautiful Miss Irelia."

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

"No, no..."

"Honestly." Irelia pretended to pinch his cheek in annoyance, but soon let out a sigh she couldn't quite suppress.

She stepped forward and gave him a hug, her voice softening. "You be careful too. If you run into trouble, ask us for help right away."

"I will." Chen Ce smiled, then immediately headed deeper into the Noxian camp.

Ahri, who wasn't part of the Resistance Army and worked exclusively for Chen Ce, followed him.

Outside, the Resistance Army fighters began closing in, and the battle erupted at once.

Chen Ce didn't use the Black Stone Rune Greatsword Riven had given him. Armed with only a spear, he cut through the Noxian camp without the slightest difficulty, sending countless Noxian soldiers flying along the way.

It was a shame he didn't have his Magnolia White Dragon Steed. Then he really would have been a bit like Zhao Zilong of Changban.

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

"Why are you looking at me like that...?" Ahri suddenly sensed that something was off about his gaze. "You're not thinking of doing something weird to me, are you...?"

"No, I was just thinking how nice it'd be if I could ride you," Chen Ce replied frankly.

"Oh, oh. I thought you were planning to do something naughty to me again. If you want to ride me... you can do it tonight while we sleep. That wouldn't be difficult at all." Ahri had some confidence in her physical strength. Carrying Chen Ce, who weighed a little over a hundred pounds, would be no problem.

"But you can only ride me for a little while—it can just be a game. If you keep riding me, I'll get tired too."

"Forget it. I was joking." Chen Ce smiled. When he saw the building that might be hiding Emystan, he turned serious and added, "There's something I'll need your help with in a moment."

"What is it? If it's something I can do, I'll help you for sure!"

"I'm going to catch a wicked woman. I need you to help me steal her memories—I want to find out a few things. Things about the Black Rose."

"The Black Rose? I don't know what that is... Anyway, I just have to tell you everything in that woman's memories, right?"

"Yeah, that'll do."

"Sure thing. No problem at all!"

As they spoke, the two of them took down the Noxian soldiers in front of them and strode toward the grandest, most luxurious-looking house. It was a fine example of Noxian aristocratic style: even a building hastily thrown together in the middle of a war had to be impressive.

They pushed the door open. A dignified, elegant woman sat at a desk, her ten fair fingers—which had clearly been well cared for—interlaced beneath her chin to prop up her head. Not a trace of fear showed on her face. She looked composed and graceful.

"Good afternoon, Resistance Army fighter, windrider, Mr. Chen Ce."

"I'm not having a good afternoon, Emystan." Chen Ce shrugged, the spear in his hand flashing with a cold glint. "And you'll soon be having just as bad a time as I am."

"Ah, you're in such a hurry... No matter what happens, we can always find time to sit down and have a cup of tea, can't we?"

"But I don't want to drink your tea, you wicked woman."

"But I still wanted to talk to you... Fine. I suppose that's out of the question."

"That's right. I won't waste time talking to you. I'll know everything soon enough—from the memories in your mind."

With that, Chen Ce walked forward, planning to grab the pampered aristocratic woman, who clearly had no strength to fight back, and give her a thorough beating—or, rather, have Ahri do it.

Emystan seemed to accept her fate. She didn't resist at all, and her hands were soon tied.

But just as Ahri was about to step forward and extract her memories, Chen Ce suddenly turned and thrust his spear—it was aimed at Ahri.

Ahri froze. She didn't dodge, but instinctively squeezed her eyes shut in fear.

But the pain she expected never came.

All she heard was an explosive crack.

When she opened her eyes, she saw blood streaming down Chen Ce's right arm, the one holding the spear.

Then she caught a strange scent in the air.