Arcane: TTB: Ch. 157

The Sun Gate's broad waters were choked with warships. Camille stood at the head of Piltover's hastily assembled "welcoming committee." Behind her, the city's elites shuffled nervously in their finest clothes, trying to look dignified while internally calculating their odds of survival.

House Medarda was conspicuously absent. Ambessa had made her position clear by not attending. Mel was here, but only in her official capacity as a Piltover councilor, standing slightly apart from the rest.

And then there was Emystan.

The woman who'd been hiding in a safehouse for days, terrified that Zaun's drones would find her and finish what they'd started, had finally crawled out into the sunlight. She stood at the very front of the welcoming party, decked out in full Noxian general's regalia, and a runic sword at her hip.

Behind the official party, rows of workers held up banners with messages like "WELCOME NOBLE NOXIAN FORCES" and "PILTOVER HONORS GENERAL EMYSTAN'S ARRIVAL."

Camille had organized the entire spectacle. The performers were paid professionals, theater actors and street performers who'd been given scripts and generous compensation to look enthusiastic. They were earning more for one day of flag-waving than they'd normally make in a month, so the smiles were real enough, even if the sentiment behind them was bought and paid for.

Emystan ate it up. All the frustration of being driven into hiding, evaporated in the warm glow of public adoration. She even complimented Camille on her cleverness and ability to "handle arrangements properly." Standing at the front of the welcoming party, chin high and shoulders back.

This fleet was her lifeline. The foundation that let her operate as an independent force within Noxus instead of just another disposable officer.

As the lead ships finished mooring, gangplanks deployed. The fleet's adjutant, a scarred veteran, led a contingent of elite soldiers and combat mages down to the docks. He saluted sharply as he approached Emystan, but his expression was confused. They were supposed to be a conquering force. Why were the locals throwing them a parade?

He'd seen occupied populations before. This wasn't that. These people looked... happy?

"Welcome to Piltover!" Emystan's voice rang out across the docks. "Make some noise, boys! Let them hear you!"

A cheer went up from the ships, soldiers banging weapons against shields in a traditional Noxian salute.

She glanced back over her shoulder at the assembled Piltover elite. "I trust accommodations have been prepared for my forces?"

Before Camille could respond, a man in expensive clothes pushed his way forward from the crowd.

"Of course, General! Everything is ready!"

He was wiping his forehead with a silk handkerchief.

Camille watched him. The fool thought he'd found a powerful patron. He had no idea he'd just painted a target on his own back. When the purges came, and they would come, people like him would be first against the wall. But there was no point warning him. You couldn't save someone from their own greed.

"We've prepared apartments for your soldiers," the merchant continued. "Everything fully furnished, ready for occupancy. Daily cleaning service included, of course. For the officers, I've secured private villas with garden terraces. Each property comes with a personal steward to handle any needs or requests."

Emystan nodded slightly. "Adequate. And the comfort facilities?"

The merchant blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"Young soldiers can't be expected to go without female companionship," Emystan said bluntly. "I assume arrangements have been made?"

Ah. Right. The brothels.

It was a reasonable request from a Noxian perspective, even if it made several of the Piltover elite visibly uncomfortable. Noxian military doctrine recognized that soldiers under high stress needed outlets. Armies with nowhere to blow off steam became dangerous. Soldiers started "requisitioning" what they wanted from the local population. Women got dragged into alleys. Families got terrorized. The whole occupation turned into a nightmare that bred resistance and made governance impossible.

Emystan needed Piltover stable. She planned to rule this city long-term. That meant keeping the population compliant, or at least not rebellious. Giving her soldiers access to prostitutes was part of that calculation, keep them satisfied so they didn't start hunting for satisfaction on their own.

Even the most passive population would eventually snap if soldiers started assaulting their wives and daughters. Then you got riots, insurgencies, endless guerrilla fighting that bled resources and made the whole occupation worthless.

Better to handle it cleanly.

"Already prepared!" the merchant said quickly. "The arrangements are comprehensive."

Emystan raised an eyebrow. "Really? I'd heard Piltover cleaned out its brothels years ago."

The merchant's smile widened. "We've been very thorough in our preparations. The moment we heard strong Noxian soldiers would be arriving, we knew exactly what would be needed."

There was a flash of pride on his face. He and his fellow speculators had seen this coming. After Emystan's initial defeat, they'd known she wouldn't just give up. So they'd pooled their resources, mortgaged properties, bought up slaves from across the region, and positioned themselves to profit from the occupation.

It was a high-risk gamble. If Zaun had won, they'd have lost everything. But they'd bet on Noxus, and now that bet was paying off.

"Impressive initiative," Emystan said, and she meant it.

She knew exactly what the merchant had done. But what impressed her was the sheer ruthlessness. The man had sold out his own city without a moment's hesitation, gambling his family's wealth on the outcome. That took a special kind of moral flexibility.

He and his group were exactly the kind of collaborators she needed. People with no loyalty to anything except their own advancement. They'd do whatever was necessary to maintain their position, no matter how ugly.

Perfect tools.

And having a puppet faction like this would help balance Camille's influence. Clan Ferros was powerful, too powerful for her to fully trust. Having this merchant and his cronies as a counterweight would keep everyone honest.

Plus, all the really dirty work could be delegated to people like him. If things got too bad, she could throw the merchant to the wolves. Execute him publicly, claim she'd been deceived, and promise reforms.

It was a win-win. The puppet got power and wealth for as long as he lasted, and she got a convenient scapegoat whenever she needed one.

Power made people stupid. This merchant thought he'd made it. He had no idea how expendable he really was.

Mel watched the entire exchange. In her mind, she'd already written the man's obituary. Even if Emystan didn't eventually have him killed, Zaun's reckoning would put him at the top of the list.

Collaborators always got it worst when the regime changed.

Emystan drew her runic sword. "From this day forward, this city belongs to our warband! Follow me!"

Her crimson cloak billowed in the wind. It was a good moment.

Then someone in the crowd pointed at the sky.

Black dots. Hundreds of them, maybe thousands, growing rapidly larger as they approached.

---

The drones made no attempt at stealth. They came in a massive formation, blotting out patches of sky as they descended toward the harbor.

Emystan had been brutalized by drones at the Hexgate. She knew exactly what they meant. But this time she had her entire fleet. She was ready.

"Enemy attack!" Her voice carried across the docks. "Battle stations! Mage corps, get defensive wards up on the soldiers and the ships! All batteries, prepare to fire!"

Soldiers ran to their positions. Mages began chanting, weaving protective barriers over the warships' hulls. The ships' main guns rotated skyward, tracking the approaching swarm.

"FIRE!"

The harbor exploded with sound.

Cannons roared, sending shells screaming into the sky. Magical projectiles arced upward in trails of multi-colored light. The air filled with smoke and fire and the shrieking whistle of ordinance.

It was a spectacular display of firepower.

Emystan watched the sky fill with explosions and felt the tension drain from her shoulders.

"Hahaha!" She was nearly shouting over the thunder of the guns. "Nothing can stop us now!"

In her mind, she could see it all playing out. Piltover secured, Zaun conquered, both cities under her control. The future stretched out before her.

The bombardment continued for another minute. When it finally stopped, the smoke began to clear.

She stared up at the sky.

The drone swarm was still there. She couldn't see a single gap in their formation.

Her guns had done nothing.

---

Back at The Last Drop, Cipher was putting the finishing touches on a handwritten document. He held it up in front of one of his surveillance drones.

"Blitzcrank, broadcast this. Continent-wide."

The AI's voice came through the drone's speaker, sounding uncertain. "Are you sure about this draft? It's not very formal."

"Broadcast it exactly as written," Cipher said.

If he wasn't trying to bait the Black Rose into showing their hand, he'd just vaporize Emystan's fleet with a synchronized laser strike and be done with it. But that wouldn't serve the larger purpose. So instead, they got theater.

Nobody in the bar objected. This was purely a propaganda exercise.

"Understood," Blitzcrank said. "Broadcasting now."

---

Across the continent, communication devices flickered. Radios, telegraph receivers, even some of the newer crystal-based messaging systems that wealthy merchants used, all of them suddenly switched to the same frequency.

Whether you wanted to listen or not, you were about to hear from Zaun.

There was a burst of electromagnetic static. Then a voice began reading Cipher's declaration.

[BY ORDER OF THE PEOPLE'S GOVERNMENT OF ZAUN]

[The government of Zaun hereby issues the following declaration of war:]

[Emystan, commander of a Noxian warband, designated Class-A war criminal, has committed atrocities throughout her military career that violate every standard of civilized warfare.]

[Her crimes include, but are not limited to: personally ordering or permitting the massacre of civilian populations, ethnic cleansing operations, human experimentation on prisoners of war, and torture of detainees.]

[Recently, the Class-A war criminal Emystan attempted to extend her operations into Piltover and Zaun. This conspiracy was jointly thwarted by the governments of Zaun and Piltover working in cooperation. Following this defeat, she lost all restraint. In a desperate attempt to salvage her position, she sought to exploit both cities for her own ends. She went so far as to deploy assassins targeting Piltover's premier scientist and military commander, the developer of Hextech technology, the widely respected Jayce Talis.]

Mel couldn't help glancing at Camille, who stood still with no visible reaction. The sheer audacity of it was almost impressive. Cipher had personally orchestrated Jayce's "wilderness survival trial" using Camille as his instrument. And now he was pinning the whole thing on Emystan with such confidence that it might as well be truth.

She could already imagine how this would play out when Jayce finally returned. The narrative was already being written: Camille had been forced into cooperation by threats to her clan, acted under duress, tragically unable to prevent Emystan's plans.

It would be wrapped in a bow of framing, positioned so that any attempt to hold Camille accountable would look like victim-blaming. Clan Ferros had defected to Zaun completely now. Even though she had nearly killed him once, Cipher was pragmatic enough to set personal grudges aside when value was on the line. So in the end, only Jayce would suffer. He'd be the one carrying the psychological weight of betrayal and manipulation, while Emystan took all the official blame.

And Mel couldn't expose any of it. She had to play along.

Thinking about Jayce being used like this put her in a foul mood. But she was smart enough to know where her frustration could safely be directed.

Emystan would do nicely.

[Regarding the tragic fate of Commander Talis, Zaun expresses its grief and regret. He was a selfless pioneer who dedicated his life to the advancement of Hextech for the betterment of all humanity, asking nothing in return. He succeeded. Hextech succeeded. But he has been taken from us.]

[Zaun once again condemns the primary culprit, Emystan, for this unconscionable act. This criminal who obstructs human progress will pay the price for her crimes. Therefore, the People's Government of Zaun hereby informs the entire continent that she has ignored repeated warnings from Zaun. She has conspired against Piltover and Zaun, and in her madness, murdered Commander Talis.]

[Zaun has learned its lesson. For progress, peace, and the final wish of Commander Talis, the People's Government of Zaun must act. We will destroy Emystan's plans and prevent her from continuing her deranged assault on both cities, from shattering a peace unprecedented in a century.]

On the docks, Emystan's face went from confusion to shock to rage.

"This is OUTRAGEOUS!"