Arcane: TTB: Ch. 146

"Take this with you."

As the duel was about to begin, Rictus tore off the Petricite collar from his own body and wrapped it around Ambessa's arm.

"Hm?"

Ambessa turned her head to glance at her lieutenant, but she did not stop his actions.

Her trust in him was second only to her trust in her own family.

"Her runic blade is forged from rune magic. It can unleash magical effects. A duel is supposed to test martial skill. If you carry the Petricite, you'll be at too much of a disadvantage."

Rictus shook his head, explaining the runic blade to Ambessa. By his estimation, if she still carried the collar, her weapon disadvantage would make her no true match for Riven.

"That makes sense."

Ambessa calmly accepted her lieutenant's good will.

With the extra piece of equipment, she no longer stayed on the defensive waiting for Riven to make the first move.

Instead, she rushed straight at Riven, launching the opening attack, her wrist snapping mid-stride.

Snap!

The chain linking her fist-blade cracked like a whip, producing a piercing sonic boom. It lashed out at Riven, slicing through the air with ferocity. If that blow landed, bones would surely shatter.

At the chain's end, the fist-blade moved. At any moment, it could strike from an unexpected angle at her command.

The fist-blade was already an unusual weapon. With chains added, it became weapon within weapon, designed for skill, deception, and defense over brute force.

Indeed, though her frame was tall and strong, with arms like iron bars and a physique like steel, she was a master of technique.

By contrast, the doll-like Riven was the true strength fighter. Her massive runic blade was proof enough. When faced with Ambessa's chain assault, her response was simple and direct. She lifted her blade like a shield and smacked the chain aside.

Her lips pressed tight, she stepped heavily forward, charging Ambessa with the energy in her runic blade flowing and sparking.

Seeing her first strike deflected, Ambessa's eyes sharpened. She gripped the chain in her right hand and swung again with sudden force.

This time, the fist-blade seemed like a true serpent under her control. Though knocked away, it coiled back in an arc to strike at Riven's unguarded nape.

Few could escape such a maneuver. Most would die to the returning strike for lack of experience. But Riven seemed unaware of the danger, charging ahead recklessly, like one of those brainless barbarians from Freljord who know nothing but to charge.

It was so convincing, so unrefined, that Ambessa almost believed it. Her brow furrowed.

She was looking for potential, officers who, with training, might one day become generals. But a brute who only knew how to swing a sword? Noxus had no shortage of such fodder.

Just as the fist-blade was about to strike Riven, a moment of hesitation flashed through her mind.

Should she hold back?

But at that instant, Riven's once expressionless eyes suddenly flared with sharp brilliance. She ducked under the returning fist-blade, and her speed surged as she lunged forward.

In an instant, she closed the gap, leaping into a 360° spinning strike, her runic blade blazing with energy as it smashed down toward Ambessa.

Broken Wings!

Faced with Riven's fierce assault, Ambessa was not alarmed. Instead, she was delighted.

This was the kind of display worthy of Darkwill's audience.

This was the kind of talent worthy of wielding the runic blade.

This was the kind of warrior worth her attention.

The battleground where Riven and Ambessa clashed was like a colossal fan blade.

The fist-blade was not well-suited to blocking a runic blade the size of a door, and Ambessa knew full well that Riven's strength far surpassed her own. She could not take the strike head-on.

She leapt sideways, landing on another section of the fan-blade platform to evade the blow.

Riven lost sight of her target. Her attack missed, and when she glanced quickly around the platform's edge, there was no trace of Ambessa at all.

Shhhk!

A sudden sound split the air behind her, followed by the rattle of chains dragging.

Without hesitation, she swung her blade in a heavy backward strike, smashing aside the ambushing fist-blade.

A rough, dark hand shot up from beneath the platform's edge, just ahead of where Riven stood.

With a powerful heave, Ambessa vaulted up from below. Her boot lashed out in a kick toward Riven.

The runic blade was devastating when swung, capable of splitting bodies apart even on a glancing blow. It was a true weapon of war. But it had one flaw: it was not agile, its turning speed limited.

Inside the complex structure of the Hexgate, Riven was at a disadvantage. The footing on the fan-blades was sparse, making it difficult to maneuver her weapon freely. Her strike had missed, her momentum was spent, and no new strength yet gathered. When Ambessa's kick came, she had neither space to dodge nor time to swing her blade in counterattack.

But she was not entirely helpless. The runic blade shone with blinding light, unleashing a burst of energy in a shockwave.

Ki Burst!

Ambessa, soaring through the air, saw this, and kick drove forward with even more force.

If she hadn't been carrying the Petricite collar, she would never have risked such a reckless close-quarters attack.

The runic blade was capable of magical effects akin to sorcery.

The wave of energy from the runic blade rippled through the air, then struck Ambessa, only to be absorbed entirely by the Petricite on her arm with a deep, muffled thrum.

Riven's pupils contracted. Since being granted the runic blade, this was the first time her Ki Burst had been completely nullified.

Her defense had failed, and with no time to muster a new technique, Ambessa's boot smashed into her.

Clang!

Riven was sent flying several meters. She only stopped herself by plunging the blade deep into the platform beneath her feet.

A bitter taste welled in her throat. She spat blood, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and glared at Ambessa.

"Your combat instincts are sharp," Ambessa said, pointing first to the surroundings, then to herself. "But you rely too much on battlefield experience, and too much on the runic blade."

"In single combat, it's a different set of rules. If you don't hold back, it's either you die, or I die. But in reality, it's almost always you who dies first."

After offering her lesson, she extended her hand toward Riven.

"You've lost. By the laws of Noxus, that means you'll follow me."

"I haven't lost yet!"

Riven sprang to her feet. Her runic blade blazed with radiant white light, holy energy coursing through it.

---

"Quick, come with me!"

Marit rode her demonic bird mount, finding the other two members of the Crimson Elite, Arrel and Teneff, a little further below.

"Where's Riven?" Teneff asked.

"She couldn't get out." Marit's eyes were bloodshot. "Ambessa betrayed Noxus. She joined the Piltovans and attacked us. Riven stayed behind to cover our retreat. She ordered us to break out following General Emystan's retreat route."

As soon as Marit finished speaking, silence fell over the group. The air seemed to drop several degrees.

"Move!"

After a brief pause, Arrel spoke succinctly. This wasn't the time to waste words. She was the first to mount her beast, followed by four warhounds scrambling up after her like a stack of beasts.

Seeing this, Teneff also mounted her steed.

Three armored elite soldiers, and four huge warhounds.

Thankfully, Marit's mount was a massive, powerful demonic bird. If it had been a Demacian silverwing, it couldn't have carried two people without shedding its armor.

"Track General Emystan's scent!"

Arrel gave the command.

The largest of the warhounds sniffed the air, then growled softly toward the ground below.

"Down there, at the very bottom."

Arrel immediately relayed Emystan's trail to Marit.

"Hold on tight!"

Marit yanked the reins. The burdened demonic bird beat its wings and dove downward, landing on the platform beneath the Hexgate.

The three soldiers and four hounds quickly dismounted. The weight had nearly exhausted the poor creature already.

"This way!"

The warhounds locked onto Emystan's scent almost immediately upon landing. Under Arrel's direction, they led the way forward.

The group followed closely, finally arriving at a blown-open underground conduit.

"Who are you?"

Marit gripped her spear tightly as she stared at the man sitting atop a pile of rubble, calmly smoking a cigar. He had a thick beard, slicked-back hair, and a mature face full.

Most striking of all were his fists, which glowed faintly with blue energy.

"Vander."

The man exhaled a ring of smoke, speaking evenly.

"Step aside."

Marit's heart sank. Her warrior's instinct screamed that this man was dangerous, very dangerous.

"Sorry. I can't do that. My son wants you to be part of his personal guard. I can't let you leave."

Vander took out a cigar cutter, snipped off the smoked end, and carefully placed the remaining half back into its case. He was a frugal man, never one to waste, even when he could afford to.

"Your son's personal guard? Hahaha!"

Marit clearly misunderstood. The core members of the Crimson Elite were all strikingly attractive, even Teneff had her own rough charm.

She instinctively assumed Vander had foul intentions, wanting to turn the three of them into his son's private playthings. She had seen far too many beautiful female warriors meet such a fate after defeat.

Rage consumed her thoughts. Her spear trembled in her grip, and as a Noxian elite staring death in the face, what did she have to fear?

Her spear quivered in her hands, unable to stay still. Her body tensed like a hunting leopard, crouching low.

"Wait!"

Just as Marit was about to launch her desperate charge, Arrel placed a firm hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

"Who is your son?"

Her four warhounds spread out around Vander, low growls rumbling from their throats. Beasts' instincts far surpass those of humans, and creatures with enhanced senses like the warhounds were even sharper.

They conveyed two things to her: Vander bore no malice, and he was very strong.

There was room for negotiation. Otherwise, she would never have spoken up.

"Cipher."

At the mention of his son, Vander's face softened.

"You don't need to worry. He's a good man. He's close friends with Commander Swain. Serving as his guard will bring you a far brighter future than working under Emystan."

Swain's reputation among Noxian officers was sky-high.

At this time, before the defeat at Placidium had spread, the name "Swain" alone was enough to make any Noxian officer shout their loyalty twice over.

There was even a saying among them: When Commander Swain appears, everyone's promotion dreams come true.

"We are under military orders," Arrel replied evenly. "Please step aside. After the mission is complete, we can apply for reassignment to Zaun."

She had heard of Cipher, the inventor of explosive rounds and advanced communication gear, one of Swain's most loyal engineers.

Indeed, he was known to have an unusually close relationship with the Commander, one of the few who could contact him directly.

Rumor had it that even Swain's own hand-picked protégés didn't hold as much trust in his eyes as Cipher did.

Serving in his guard would truly be better than working for that selfish, power-hungry fool Emystan. Her recent delusion of conquering Piltover and Zaun had already filled the Crimson Elite with dread.

Conquering Piltover alone was bold but not entirely impossible. With her strength and Ambessa's aid, it might even succeed.

But to challenge Swain's Zaun? That was pure suicide.

The Crimson Elite had sensed disaster coming, but as an assault unit under Noxus, not Emystan's personal guard, they had no right to voice objections.

To Emystan, they were little more than high-grade cannon fodder.

"Military orders?" Vander shook his head slowly. "Zaun only recognizes Commander Swain's commands."

He stood up, his cybernetic enhancements glowing brighter as blue energy coursed through the conduits in his arms. The technology he'd gained from training with Steel Fist in Qurac was finally being put to use.

"Attack!"

Arrel realized negotiations had failed. There was nothing left but to fight. She quickly drew one of her short spears and hurled it straight at Vander.

The Crimson Elite were Noxian soldiers. Soldiers obey orders, even if they were abandoned, even if those orders were wrong.

The four warhounds roared, maws opening wide as they lunged at Vander. Marit and Teneff charged in behind them.

Vander moved with sudden explosive speed.

Bam!

He reappeared before Arrel, the farthest one away. His fist drove into her abdomen.

"Ah!"

Her body convulsed. She vomited, eyes going blank as she collapsed straight to the ground.

"Arrel!" the other two cried in unison.

Marit and Teneff exchanged a glance. Marit grabbed her mount's reins and bolted toward the blasted tunnel, not looking back.

Teneff planted her spear and stood her ground, ready to cover Marit's retreat.

"I'm sorry," Vander said softly. "But I can't let you go. Rest for a while."

He gently laid the unconscious Arrel on the ground.