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"Big brother! I was wrong!"
Thud!
Darius' massive axe slammed into the ground beside the Vice President's chair, barely two centimeters away from Draven. The closeness of the blade made Draven shudder.
When it came to cleaving enemies in half, Darius showed no mercy.
But fighting his older brother? Draven wasn't foolish enough to even try.
Darius wasn't holding back; his strikes were calculated, merciless—unless it was Quilletta. He was softer with her, but everyone else faced his ruthless blows.
Seeing his younger brother submit so quickly, Darius grinned, a rough, predatory expression, and took his place at the Vice President's seat with a decisive swing of his axe.
Draven muttered under his breath, slinking to a seat behind him.
The back row wasn't so bad, he supposed, though he deserved better.
His flamboyant nature demanded a more prominent spot, but he wasn't about to challenge Darius over it.
"Welcome back, Vice President Darius," Swain greeted in his deep, deliberate voice.
"From this day forward, the will of Noxus rests with us. Ryan oversees external affairs, and I govern internal ones."
"You will handle the offensive campaigns"
"That's exactly what I want."
His gruff voice carried an edge of excitement.
Darius' scarred face lit up with raw fighting spirit as he nodded eagerly.
Draven muttered to himself again, "He's way too into this."
Before he could finish his grumbling, Darius shot him a sharp glare.
Draven immediately straightened up, feigning focus and attentiveness, though his eyes still glinted with his usual mischief.
Swain's voice cut through the moment.
"The wheels of imperial war will not stop, but they won't turn as frequently as they have been."
His tone was calm but resolute. "The empire has carried the burden of relentless warfare for too long. We need time to recover."
"The empire requires stability right now," Ryan added.
"Grand General Darius, the Trifarix Legion will be entrusted to you. They're composed of former soldiers who served under both Swain and myself."
"The sharpest spear in the empire? I like this challenge," Darius said, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
"Give me a few days, and they'll be ready to return to the battlefield."
Ryan smirked at Darius' enthusiasm.
Unlike Jericho Swain, Darius wasn't a tactician or politician—he was a warrior, through and through.
If Darius led the Trifarix Legion, he would always be at the vanguard, breaking enemy lines.
But Darius also had a tendency to push forward too far, often isolating himself from his troops.
Without a disciplined army to back him up, the outcomes of his battles were often unpredictable.
"Today, we stand here because the Noxian people wanted us to," Swain said, his voice steady and commanding.
"No general, no citizen, no one in Noxus has stood in our way. That, alone, is proof of their will."
"The Empire belongs to all Noxians," Ryan added.
"And with the cessation of hostilities, we can redirect manpower toward improving the lives of our citizens. I've already arranged for Zaunite scientists to assist. They've developed methods to restore barren lands—deserts included."
"That desert is more than just sand," LeBlanc interjected, her voice smooth and enigmatic.
"Precisely why Trifarix and the empire require your assistance, Pale Lady," Ryan replied calmly.
Ryan knew the desert wasn't merely a result of natural erosion—it was a scar left behind by magic.
The experiments of the Immortal Bastion's previous master had devastated the land for centuries.
No one understood the dangers hidden beneath the sands better than LeBlanc, the mistress of deception.
Her eyes, obscured beneath her hood, flickered with faint interest. After a moment's pause, she spoke softly,
"I will provide... assistance."
Darius' gaze lingered on her for a moment, memorizing her face and name.
He was well aware of his strengths and shortcomings. He was a warrior, not a schemer. Politics and manipulation were best left to others.
But compared to his arrogant brother, Darius was at least self-aware.
When it came to war, he let his axe do the talking.
"Should we pay attention to Medarda and Du Couteau?" Darius asked, voicing his thoughts.
Since external enemies were to be set aside for now, it made sense to use Noxian strength to address internal instability.
Swain, seated upright in his chair, shook his head slightly.
"They've already made the wise choice to align themselves with us. Our priority lies within the Immortal Bastion itself—or with certain local factions that have openly opposed us."
"Let Draven handle it," Ryan suggested coldly.
"The Executioner is perfect for this kind of work. He'll knock on every noble's door and slaughter anyone who dares resist."
With Trifarix ascending as the governing power, it was time to purge the old nobility, especially those loyal to the late Boram Darkwill.
Their wealth would be seized, their power stripped. Those unwilling to comply would no longer have a place in Noxus.
Draven, Ryan thought, was more than suited for this task. He wasn't just a weapon—he was a statement. A benchmark of strength.
Any family that could rival him in power might be given a chance to redeem themselves. But for those weaker than Draven? If they dared defy the new regime, their downfall was inevitable.
From Ryan's perspective, Draven was at peak Champion-level strength—his physical prowess was easily the equivalent of thirty Caitlyns.
Of course, that paled in comparison to Darius. It would take about five Dravens to match his elder brother in sheer might.
Kled's strength was somewhat more balanced—about three or four Dravens' worth.
Draven's current capabilities, however, were perfect for testing the hidden cards of Noxian nobles. Those who prided themselves on force would be measured against him.
As for those who relied on cunning and intellect, they would naturally gravitate toward Swain or LeBlanc for survival.
The only ones left would be the parasites of the empire.
"I'm going! I'm going tonight!"
Draven's bloodthirsty grin spread across his face.
"Is there anything better than this?"
"You're allowed to kill, not destroy," Ryan warned him.
Many of the noble families still possessed priceless artifacts, and Ryan had no intention of seeing them go to waste.
His mage tower's bookshelves were far too empty for his liking.
"I'll give you a list by tomorrow morning," Swain said calmly.
"Follow it to the letter." He then turned slightly, addressing the shadowy figure behind him.
"Ms. LeBlanc, do you have anything to add?"
"The Zaavan family has proven themselves to be loyal supporters of both the Empire and the Trifarix," LeBlanc said softly, her tone deliberate.
Now that the Zaavan family's allegiance had been openly declared, it was time to extract more value from them.
"A charming spider," Swain remarked with a hint of amusement.
"Not bad."
By recognizing them, Swain effectively solidified their position as useful pawns in his game.
A family that had once fought against him was now worthy of holding a seat within the Empire's new order.
"Are there any other candidates?"
"There are plenty within the Black Rose," LeBlanc replied, a subtle smile gracing her lips.
"But they're all clever enough to know their place."
"No matter where they hide, they cannot escape my sight," Swain said lightly.
One masterfully concealed secrets; the other thrived on uncovering them.
It was an eternal game of wits, but Swain was confident that, in the end, he would emerge victorious.
Darius, uninterested in their subtle machinations, suddenly spoke.
"Meredith, is that your castle?" His voice was tinged with curiosity.
"Can you make a war fortress like that?"
He had already noted the massive structure bearing Ryan's family crest—a fortress suspended high in the sky like a great sword, ready to strike at any moment.
To Darius, it was more than a symbol. It was a weapon.
The floating castle loomed over the Black Rose and the nobles like an executioner's blade. But on the battlefield, it would be a game-changer—a fortress unmatched in power.
War mages stationed inside could repel enemy spells, and from the sky, it could lead armies over towering city walls to strike at the heart of enemy defenses.