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"Did Basilich betray the Empire?"
Darius slammed his giant axe into the ground beside his seat, its weight echoing through the chamber.
His eyes burned as he stared at the map spread across the round table, veins bulging on his clenched fists.
The warlord's hands pressed against the table with such force that his raw strength seemed to emanate from his very being.
"The change in leadership has given everyone a chance to realign their loyalties," Ryan remarked in a calm, measured tone.
His voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"Basilich is merely the first to lower the banner of the Empire. The general stationed there—if my memory serves me correctly—goes by..."
Before Ryan could finish, Darius growled, his voice rough and commanding:
"Quiletta. She served under Colonel Cyrus with Draven and me back in the day."
Ryan gave a thin smile, undeterred by Darius' interruption.
"Perhaps they've simply delayed hoisting the new Imperial banner. Coincidentally, a fresh one was just delivered to the Council Hall, General Darius."
Ryan's gaze shifted toward the center of the room, where a bright red flag adorned with the Trifarix emblem stood proudly.
At Ryan's words, Darius hesitated, his face clouded with conflicting emotions.
The name "Quiletta" carried far more weight than just a memory of an old comrade.
Ryan's meaning was clear to him. Trifarix could overlook this incident if Basilich replaced Darkwill's banner with that of the new Empire.
Such an act would prove their loyalty to the Trifarix Council and demonstrate that their allegiance was to the present, not the remnants of the old regime.
This was the leverage brought by power. Yet Darius couldn't ignore the unease gnawing at him.
"I'll go there myself and uncover the truth."
Darius' deep voice reverberated in the room. He took a breath, his fists tightening as he fixed Ryan with a rare, pleading look.
"You plan to go alone?" Ryan raised an eyebrow, skepticism creeping into his tone.
Basilich sat on the Empire's northern frontier, home to over three thousand Noxian soldiers—battle-hardened elites, not mere conscripts.
This wasn't some disorganized band of rebels but a potentially united force under Quiletta's command.
If the situation turned dire, even Darius' legendary resilience might falter under the sheer weight of numbers.
"You underestimate me, Ryan." Darius scowled.
Before Ryan could argue further, a low, commanding voice interrupted from the corner of the room.
"The Black Rose whispers of betrayal born of dissatisfaction against you, Darius."
Swain's words were as precise and deliberate as his gaze. Standing tall, the Noxian Grand General radiated an aura of unyielding control.
The demon resting within his mind offered glimpses of truth that few could deny.
"She's been lost in the chaos, as many have," Swain added coldly.
"Letting personal ties cloud your judgment will not serve the Empire."
Ryan interjected with a soft chuckle.
"Let's not be too harsh, Grand General. Trifarix is the new ruling power. Our rise may be celebrated by many, but it's no secret that some despise serving under our banner. Such resistance is... inevitable."
He glanced toward Darius. "Draven executed a few traitors last week, but there are still those within the Immortal Bastion harboring dissent. And those connected to the ousted regime are likely plotting in shadows. Basilich simply chose to make its discontent known first."
The weight of the room seemed to press down on Darius, but his resolve did not waver.
"I have to go," Darius said, his tone unwavering as he addressed Swain directly.
"I need your assistance. Teleport me there. I'll need only a day."
Swain's expression remained unreadable as he studied Darius for a long moment. Finally, he gave a small nod.
"I respect your decision, Darius." Swain gestured to Ryan.
"Prepare the runic coordinates near Basilich. I will personally oversee the teleportation. You'll have your day."
Runic teleportation required precise anchors—artifacts imbued with magic by master mages to ensure stability.
Ryan, ever efficient, began the preparations at once.
Darius stood tall, gripping his axe as he prepared to confront the ghosts of his past and the uncertainties of Basilich's future.
Darius had a teleportation artifact on him, allowing him to harness a vast amount of magic to recall it just the day before.
However, Basilich was in the far north of the Empire—a place he hasn't visited in a long time.
This meant he couldn't teleport directly.
As a heavily armored warrior, Darius knew he couldn't rely on speed to cover the distance.
By the time he arrived, he imagined the rebel flag would already be flying above the city walls.
"Xin Zhao," Darius called out, his voice commanding.
"At your service!"
Xin Zhao, who had been stationed at the council chamber doors, turned swiftly.
Dropping to one knee, he folded his fists in salute, his expression unwavering.
"Take this to Basilich and light the candle," Ryan ordered, his voice calm but firm.
Ryan conjured a pure blue candlestick in his hand, the magical object glowing faintly.
With a gentle wave, it floated toward Xin Zhao, who caught it with care.
"Understood. I will ensure the candle is lit," Xin Zhao responded, his tone resolute.
After receiving his orders, he strode briskly to the doors, pausing only to whistle sharply. A moment later, he crouched, his powerful legs propelling him high into the air.
As he descended, a massive shadow streaked across the sky.
A griffin soared to meet him, its eagle-like head and four razor-sharp talons gleaming in the light.
With practiced precision, Xin Zhao landed on the creature's back, and the griffin flapped its enormous wings, carrying him northward at incredible speed. In mere moments, the duo vanished into the horizon.
"The Winged Cavalry Commander lives up to his reputation," Darius murmured, a flicker of admiration crossing his face.
His sharp eyes followed the griffin until it disappeared.
Xin Zhao's name was known far and wide. Once the strongest general under Ryan's command, he remained loyal to the Empire even after Ryan and Swain stepped away from active military duty.
His bravery and skill were unmatched, and he had continued to prove himself during skirmishes on the Ionian front and in his defense of Fae'lor.
Breaking the momentary silence, Swain spoke with his usual calculated calm.
"A recent incident demands our attention. Elise, one of our councilors, recently embarked on a voyage to the Shadow Isles."
Darius scoffed, unimpressed. "The Shadow Isles—a haven for cursed souls. Let her waste her time there."
The Shadow Isles were no ordinary place. The land, shrouded in eternal black mist, was filled with the undead—beings trapped between life and death.
Anyone who perished there would not pass into the afterlife but instead become one of the damned, driven by the strongest desires of their mortal life.
Few dared to venture into that cursed realm, save for desperate bounty hunters or those well-versed in its perils.
"It wasn't always that way," Ryan interjected, a tinge of regret in his voice.
"It was once called the Blessed Isles, a thriving kingdom of magic and prosperity. But then... two catastrophic events sealed its fate."
He paused, his expression somber, before continuing.
"Still, many magical relics and tomes remain hidden there. That's likely Elise's target."
"As a gift for the formation of the Trifarix Council, it's a reasonable choice," Swain remarked with a faint smirk, though his tone carried disdain.
"The Council seeks to eliminate or co-opt every unstable element in the Empire."
"She may be tied to the Black Rose now, but in time, she will truly align with us," Ryan added, a sly smile creeping across his face.
"Her strength is negligible at present, but like a spider weaving its web, her influence grows in the shadows. Only the Trifarix can offer her the power and freedom she desires."
The conversation drifted to minor issues before Swain turned the focus to another pressing matter.
"General Darius, there is trouble brewing on the Western Front. Under the leadership of Prince Jarvan and the new Captain of the Vanguard, the Demacians have begun to breach our defenses."
Darius' jaw tightened at the news, his expression hardening.
"After dealing with Basilich, I'll take the Trifarian Legion to the Western Front. Prince Jarvan and this 'Captain of the Vanguard' are nothing more than inexperienced whelps."
Swain's crimson gaze lingered on Darius.
"We're not in a position to expand the Empire's borders right now, General. Focus on delivering a decisive blow—enough to deter their aggression."
Ryan nodded in agreement. "The Empire's resources are stretched thin, but ensuring the enemy thinks twice before attacking again is all we need for now. Conquests can wait for a more opportune time."
"Understood!"
Darius replied, his voice a thunderous growl. He turned and strode purposefully out of the council chamber, his mind already preparing for the battles to come.
Noxus may have been weathering storms on all fronts, but Darius was determined to remind their enemies why the Empire's might was feared across Runeterra.