Arcane: TTB: Ch. 148

One punch.

That's all it took.

Vander's uppercut looked ordinary enough, the kind of basic strike you'd see in any boxing ring. But when his cybernetically-enhanced fist connected with the air itself, a crimson tornado of raw kinetic force erupted from the impact point, spiraling upward and outward in a vortex. The technique, Cyclone Counter, converted the rotational energy of the punch into a whirlwind.

Riven's Wind Slash slammed directly into the spinning wall of crimson air.

For a moment, the two forces ground against each other. The turbine blade beneath them vibrated so hard that warning klaxons started blaring throughout the Hexgate facility.

Then the Wind Slash fragmented into wisps of dissipating energy, swallowed completely by the cyclone that continued spinning for another few seconds before finally dispersing.

"Do me a favor," Vander said as he pulled out his cigar case. "Let's call it here."

He fished out the half-smoked cigar from earlier, took his time lighting it properly.

Ambessa stared at the fading whirlwind, then at Vander standing there. She was now starting to understand why he held a council seat.

"Councilor Vander, are you here to recruit Riven?"

"It wasn't my call," Vander replied, exhaling a thin stream of smoke. "Cipher's been building his own operation, and Riven's squad fits what he's looking for."

His gaze shifted to where Riven had been standing. Past tense, because she'd finally reached her limit. The woman toppled forward like a felled tree, her runic blade clattering against the turbine surface.

A swarm of Cipher's drones descended immediately, their modular connectors linking into a stretcher configuration. They scooped up both Riven and her sword, already beginning the flight back toward Zaun.

Ambessa watched them go, but instead of anger, she just laughed.

"Zaun's already drowning in talent," she said, pulling out her communicator. "And you still feel the need to poach from my recruiting pool? I'm going to have words with Cipher about this."

She didn't bother with formality when Cipher's face appeared on the small screen. They'd known each other too long for that kind of bullshit.

"I finally find a decent recruit, and you swoop in at the last second to steal her out from under me? That's not your usual style."

Back at The Last Drop, Cipher was leaning against the bar, watching multiple drone feeds on his datapad.

"Let's be accurate here," Cipher said. "First come, first served. I spotted her the moment she stepped through the Hexgate. I even asked Jayce to help me secure her cooperation."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, already feeling the headache building. Jayce was talented, no question, but his combat instincts were about as sharp as a sack of wet bread.

Cipher was definitely sending him on some wilderness survival training soon. Maybe drop him in the middle of nowhere with nothing but basic supplies and tell him to find his way back. Build some character.

"Oh, I'm sure that's exactly what happened. Poor Jayce did his best, I'm certain. But let's talk business, shall we?"

Ambessa leaned back. "You can take Riven and her squad. I won't fight you on it. But I'm going to need something in return."

Cipher had been expecting this. Nothing in Noxian politics came free, and Ambessa hadn't survived as long as she had by letting opportunities slip through her fingers.

"The Ionia governorship looks good on paper. But we both know that region is waiting to explode. The House Medarda just took serious losses. The whole operation is hemorrhaging resources."

She wasn't exaggerating. Cipher had seen the intelligence reports. Ionia was a nightmare of competing factions, ancient grudges, and individuals powerful enough to level city blocks single-handedly.

"I need to rebuild the House's strength before the next crisis hits," Ambessa said bluntly. "Because there will be a next crisis. There always is in Ionia. And when it comes, I need the Medarda holdings there to be fortified well enough that we don't get wiped off the map."

The Trifarix Council had access to shared intelligence, which meant she knew exactly what kind of monsters were lurking in Ionia.

There was Irelia, the Blade Dancer who'd personally severed Swain's hand during the last major conflict. Her entire family had been killed in the Noxian occupation. She didn't see Noxian soldiers as human beings, just targets. Her kill count was in the hundreds, maybe thousands, and she showed no signs of mellowing with age.

Then there was Zed, the Master of Shadows. He'd murdered his own master, stolen forbidden techniques, and founded the Shadow Order as a direct competitor to the traditional Kinkou Order. His assassins were ghosts, and his personal body count was probably higher than Irelia's.

And Karma. The fucking Enlightened One herself. A woman who could channel enough spiritual energy to sink warships solo. She'd done it before, multiple times, and she held a particular grudge against Noxus for what they'd done to her people.

"Yeah," Cipher said slowly, processing the scope of what Ambessa was dealing with. "I can see why you'd be nervous about the posting."

"Nervous is putting it mildly," Ambessa replied. "I'm not even planning to expand deep into Ionian territory. The smart play is consolidating power on the coast, using Fae'lor as a staging ground. Focus on trade relationships, economic leverage, maybe recruit some of the oppressed Vastaya tribes who have their own grudges against the Ionian establishment."

It was a solid strategy. Swain had used similar tactics before the council restructuring. Bleed Ionia economically while keeping them fragmented politically. Avoid direct military confrontation unless necessary.

"So here's what I need: Zaun designs and builds a defense system for Medarda holdings in Ionia."

Cipher considered it. It was a big ask, but not unreasonable given what he was getting in return. Four elite Noxian soldiers, fully trained and combat-tested, as his personal security detail? That was worth the investment.

"I can do that," he said. "But I've got conditions of my own."

Ambessa's eyebrow went up. "I'm listening."

"Zaun, actually, make that the Zaun and Piltover as a whole, becomes Ionia's preferred trading partner. Equal terms, you prioritize doing business with us. Raw materials, luxury goods, magical components, whatever. We get first bid."

Even as members of the same Trifarix Council, the competition was cutthroat. Cipher's core constituency was Zaun, but his influence extended across the entire region of both cities. He needed to secure advantages for his base of power.

Ionia was resource-rich. Setting up preferential trade agreements now would pay dividends for decades. And making nice with the new governor was just politics, personal friendship aside.

The council encouraged exactly this kind of internal competition. Swain had designed it that way. Every council member was incentivized to constantly improve, constantly innovate and fight to stay ahead of their peers. If you slacked off, if you got complacent, someone hungrier would come for your seat.

And with Swain as chairman, there was no protection for the weak. The old boys' club, the political favor trading, all that traditional corruption had been burned away.

If you couldn't perform, you were out. Simple as that.

"Deal," Ambessa said immediately.

The speed of her acceptance told Cipher she'd already gamed this out. Of course she had. Ambessa didn't gamble on negotiations; she ran the scenarios beforehand and only made offers she knew would be accepted.

It wasn't a problem on her end. She wasn't putting all her eggs in one basket. Mel was staying in Piltover or Zaun to run their local operations. By prioritizing her daughter, she was also prioritizing her economy. Basically a wash for her.

"One more thing," Ambessa added, her tone turning serious. "Don't cheap out on this. Ionia is dangerous. I need real defensive capability, not some budget placeholder that looks good on paper but falls apart under pressure."

"Don't worry. I'm sending Jayce with the Zaun engineering team to build out your defense system. He'll be the project lead. I'll be supervising. And yes, before you ask, we're installing heavy weapons. Your holdings will be able to hold off a small army."

He didn't mention that this was also a convenient way to get Jayce out of Piltover for a while. That guy needed seasoning. He needed to see real conflict zones and understand that his inventions had consequences beyond testing.

Plus, a few months in Ionia might teach him some goddamn situational awareness.