Arcane: Mage from Noxus

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The crow's voice carried the weight of authority—deep, magnetic, and commanding, a voice that exuded the presence of a leader.

Even without seeing him, Katarina could feel it. Whoever this man was, he was no ordinary person.

"Commander, it's been a while. I see you've had to deal with quite a lot on my behalf these past years," Ryan said as he stood, his tone carrying a note of resignation.

His expression resembled that of an employee caught slacking off by his superior.

"Everything I do is for the Empire," the crow's master replied, his voice cold and emotionless, devoid of humanity.

"The Empire has been plagued by rot for far too long. It must be cleansed."

Ryan listened carefully but found no trace of emotion in the man's words. He wasn't surprised—he already knew who he was dealing with.

A Saint.

That was Ryan's evaluation of him.

A man who had sacrificed his spirit, loyalty, faith, and strength to serve the Empire. A man who no longer cared for right or wrong, morality or immorality.

For him, the survival and prosperity of the empire were all that mattered. If the current Emperor stood in the way of progress, he wouldn't hesitate to overthrow him.

Ryan walked up to the crow and stopped a respectful distance away. His tone carried a faint sense of helplessness.

"All I can do is create distractions here to draw their attention."

"That's enough, Ryan," the crow replied.

"You'll force them to stay on edge in the Immortal Bastion. Everything else will fall into place. As I've promised, the Empire will surpass the Shurima of old."

Ryan chuckled faintly and quipped, "Under your guidance, I've always believed that. But I have no interest in becoming Xerath."

"In your eyes, am I Azir then? A tyrant driven by selfish ambition?" the crow asked with a hint of mockery.

Xerath and Azir. The names were infamous, relics of Shurima's golden age. Xerath, the mage obsessed with power, and Azir, the ruler whose ambition was to ascend to godhood. Azir's hubris and Xerath's betrayal ultimately brought ruin to both men, shattering the once-mighty Empire of Shurima.

But the knowledge Noxus had gleaned from the ruins of the Immortal Bastion painted a far more complex picture.

Both Azir and Xerath had failed, and their demise had dragged Shurima into oblivion.

Ryan smiled, breaking the tense moment.

"You are far greater than Azir. I've always believed that. Now, I assume you didn't come all this way just to talk history."

The crow's voice turned sharp and focused. "I've been keeping watch over every corner of the Empire. Earlier, I sensed a powerful surge of energy here—one that bore traces of your magic."

"Ah, that." Ryan shrugged casually.

"It must have been the aftermath of the Hextech experiment. I raised a water barrier to dampen the shockwave, or else I'd be camping out in the square tonight."

The crow's tone was stern. "Don't let yourself grow complacent. Have you forgotten the days when we were forced to hide in the shadows of Precinct? Those were far harsher times than this."

After his reprimand, the crow shifted the subject.

"Is this the Hextech you described in your report? From what I've seen, their advancements rival the augmentation technologies of Piltover. That Viktor you mentioned—he's a genius. I've already approved the construction of his factory. Within a month, he will understand the full extent of our sincerity."

Ryan tilted his head, intrigued. "Piltover's augmentation technology? I didn't find any mention of it in Noxian intelligence. From what I know, Piltover's defenses are centered around innovations like the H-28Q Apex Turrets they showcased today."

The crow's gaze darkened slightly. "Of course, you wouldn't know. It's a secret project of the once-prestigious Ferros family—the wealthiest in Piltover."

Ryan nodded knowingly. "Ah, the Ferros family. Stevan Ferros is their head, right? I've met him once. A frail man, riddled with illness and an insatiable hunger for control. You can see his desire for power in his eyes, though he wields little himself."

"Stevan is merely a puppet," the crow corrected.

"The true power of the Ferros family lies with Camille."

"Camille?" Ryan repeated, his curiosity piqued.

"I've heard of her—a precision operative transferred from Piltover years ago. The Empire's been leveraging her loyalty to Piltover and her family as a means to control her. Am I finally going to meet her?"

The crow's voice turned contemplative. "Soon enough. Camille is tasked with monitoring Ionia's movements. She's an extraordinary asset—a masterpiece of efficiency and precision. The Empire needs her. But her heart still belongs to Piltover and her family. Her desire to preserve their archaic traditions blinds her to the Empire's greater vision."

Ryan chuckled softly, his smile tinged with mischief. "It sounds like the Immortal Bastion's handiwork. But for her to be held in such high regard, she must be formidable."

"She is," the crow admitted, his tone carrying a rare hint of respect.

"But she lacks perspective. Her ambitions are far too small."

"Not many people have the kind of awareness you do, Commander," Ryan said with a laugh, his tone tinged with sarcasm.

"We're all just mortals, after all. But I understand what needs to be done. In a few days, my letter of appeal should land on His Majesty's desk. Without her, His Majesty's pursuit of the elixir will slow down significantly."

The crow's voice grew softer, yet its commanding weight remained.

"Watch yourself, Ryan. The Empire's future will need you for thousands of years."

As the words left his lips, the crow's body began to ignite. Crimson flames engulfed it, consuming it entirely in moments.

All that remained was a charred wooden frame, faintly smoking in the air.

Ryan watched the spectacle, shaking his head with a mix of amusement and disbelief. He muttered to himself, "Thousands of years... Commander, you're really setting the bar high. But I suppose leaving a mark on the history of Noxus and Runeterra wouldn't be so bad."

He let out a soft sigh before turning to Katarina, who had remained silent during the conversation. A sly smile curled on his lips as he asked, "He's the founder of the Trifarix. What's your impression of our boss?"

Katarina didn't answer right away. She mulled over her thoughts, her sharp features growing contemplative. Finally, she spoke with uncharacteristic solemnity.

"As a Noxian, I think following him offers hope."

"Hope..." Ryan echoed, his smile fading as he glanced at the wooden remains of the crow.

"He embodies both absolute rationality and absolute devotion. Everything he does is calculated with cold precision, as though he's a tireless machine. And yet, he pours all his emotions into Noxus—sacrificing everything for a better empire."

Katarina's emerald eyes flickered beneath the shadows of her hood, her mind replaying the cryptic conversation she had just witnessed.

The crow's words, Ryan's confidence—it was all beginning to fall into place.

A rebellion.

The crow and Ryan weren't just loyalists of the Empire—they were plotting to overthrow the emperor.

What surprised Katarina most was her own reaction. She felt no resistance to the idea, no pang of loyalty to the Emperor. Instead, there was a flicker of expectation—a spark of hope.

The Emperor's incompetence had led to growing unrest in Noxus. Rumors of his absurd decisions and self-serving agenda had spread far and wide. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing that someone wanted to step up for the empire.

For Katarina, the idea of being part of this revolution stirred something deep within her. A sense of purpose.

And if it meant her estranged father wouldn't be involved, nor her innocent mother and sister affected, perhaps it was worth trying.

"Katarina," Ryan called out, his voice drawing her from her thoughts.

She looked up, her face still partially obscured by the shadows, as Ryan gave her a sly smile.

"Tell me, what is the most important skill for an assassin?"

Katarina didn't hesitate. "Speed and a sharp blade!"

Ryan nodded approvingly. "Correct. But now, let's take it a step further—learn how to use magic to enhance both. You have the talent for it."

"Magic?" Katarina tilted her head, her tone laced with surprise.

"You want to teach me magic?"

"Magic itself can't be taught," Ryan explained, stepping toward a bookshelf behind him.

"But runes and techniques can make you stronger. The Empire is on the verge of eruption. If you're to survive—if you're to thrive—you'll need to grow stronger."

Katarina dropped to one knee in a rare display of deference, her voice steady and resolute.

"I will become the sharpest blade in your arsenal, Your Excellency."

Ryan's hand hovered over the shelf until he pulled out a black-covered volume, its edges worn with age. It had been among the belongings he brought with him a few days ago—a self-transcribed copy of the Codex.

He handed it to Katarina with deliberate care.

"This book comes from a sect in Ionia. It details spatial techniques—ways to use magical artifacts or energy to connect with the latent magic of Runeterra itself. With practice, you'll be able to appear behind your enemies in an instant."

He gestured toward the book. "Start reading. If you run into something you don't understand, come to me. The magical item you'll need should arrive in two days."

Katarina's emerald eyes gleamed as she clutched the book.

"Thank you for this gift. I won't let your expectations down."