Arcane: The Gods Want Me to Pick a Route

Chapter 272 272: Leaders of Every Nation Gather

At dawn, dozens of Hextech airships landed one after another on Piltover's massive circular platform, with rows of Enforcers lined up on both sides.

Enforcer chief Marcus stood solemnly at the center of the formation in full uniform. Over the last three days, Hextech airships had been suspended from public use. Ordinary citizens and merchants alike had been cut off from them.

That naturally stirred up no small amount of backlash. By now, most merchants relied on Hextech airships to move and sell their goods, and even one day without access to them meant enormous losses.

It was not just the merchants. Piltover's noble class had been affected too. Even cities outside the Twin Cities now had plenty of people making their living off Hextech airships.

Local tour guides as far away as the Freljord and Shurima had plenty to complain about too, but what exactly were they supposed to do with those complaints?

What could they do at all?

And then, today, when the Twin Cities finally announced the reason for the shutdown, almost every voice of protest vanished overnight. Some people wisely shut their mouths in the face of the bigger picture. Others still insisted on crying about the Twin Cities being unfair, but those voices were quickly drowned out by everyone else.

If you thought about it carefully, the Hextech airships belonged to the Twin Cities in the first place. The Twin Cities could damn well let whoever they wanted use them. The Talis family controlled that enormous money-printing machine. Even Piltover's nobles, who had been forced to stand there for three days watching the airships operate without being able to profit from them, had obediently kept quiet. So how exactly did outsiders think it was their place to criticize?

"Formation!"

One Hextech airship came to a stop in front of Marcus. It had been painted white, with the image of a majestic white lion across its side. It was an airship reserved exclusively for Demacia, one Demacia had purchased with more than three hundred pounds of petricite.

Mel had made a deal with Jarvan III, buying petricite from Demacia while granting Demacia usage rights to one of the airships. Of course, the personnel actually operating it were still Twin Cities technicians. After all, you could trust Demacians to wage war just fine, but handing them precision instruments and expecting them to use them properly, that would take some time.

With hands clasped behind their backs, every Enforcer snapped upright, feet apart, chests out, eyes forward. They varied in height and build, unlike the soldiers of Noxus and Demacia, who could carefully select men of nearly identical stature and physique.

But at that moment, the presence those Enforcers carried was not one bit inferior to the elite forces of either empire.

The Twin Cities' place in Runeterra had given them confidence. The Twin Cities now stood above every empire and every city-state, and as the law officers of the Twin Cities, their bearing was naturally nothing like it used to be.

The Enforcers of both cities no longer believed themselves beneath anyone.

You think you're tough?

Can you break the Hextech barrier Ekko built?

You think you're tough?

Can you survive a full-charge shot to the head from a Hextech long rifle?

No?

Then what the hell are you strutting around for?

That was why the Enforcers of the Twin Cities now carried a faint air of looking down on everyone.

Then Marcus shouted, "Welcome to Piltover and Zaun, His Majesty King Jarvan III of Demacia!"

The Enforcer formation immediately echoed him in unison, shouting the same words at full volume.

As the airship's exterior magical barrier dropped, a tall man appeared aboard it, broad-shouldered, white hair tied behind his head, dressed in golden armor.

Jarvan III was in full battle armor. Though his face showed age, his body was strong and vigorous. His lips moved beneath his white beard as he answered in a ringing voice, "Thank you for Piltover's warm welcome."

As soon as the words fell, Jarvan III strode forward, with two figures immediately taking their places to either side of him, Tianna and Xin Zhao.

Behind them came another man, broad and powerfully built, with a square, resolute face and a flat-cut hairstyle. Around the eyes, he looked strikingly similar to a certain blonde girl currently enjoying herself in Zaun, though his expression was colder, and his eyes lacked her bright liveliness.

"Please come this way, Your Majesty," Marcus said as he stepped forward to receive him. After briefly introducing himself, he added evenly, "The councilors are waiting for you in the council building."

At that, Tianna frowned, though she said nothing.

Xin Zhao remained silent as well. He had no interest in diplomatic matters. His duties were limited to Jarvan III's safety and certain affairs within the royal household.

The old emperor responded to Marcus with a genial nod. Right now, he looked nothing like the man he had been in the royal gardens of Demacia. Back there, Jarvan III had seemed unkempt and every bit his age. But on this visit to the Twin Cities, his eyes were clear and sharp, his beard and hair carefully groomed, revealing a face lined with wrinkles yet still naturally handsome.

Calling him an old man did not feel quite right. He looked more like a seasoned older gentleman, and the way he acted now matched that impression perfectly.

With an easy warmth, he patted Chief Marcus on the shoulder and said, "No need to let me interfere with your work. Just have one of the young fellows show us the way. Noxus's airship is right behind ours, and you still need to receive them."

Marcus froze for a moment. He had originally planned to escort Jarvan III personally to the council building.

After all, he truly could not understand why the councilors were not here in person to receive the king. Whatever else might be said, the man before him was one of the highest-ranking rulers on the continent.

Seeing Marcus hesitate, Jarvan III joked, "Grand General Swain won't be as easygoing as I am. He's an iron-blooded soldier, his style is different from mine."

After patting Marcus on the shoulder again, Jarvan III led his people toward the elevator. His face remained calm, but inwardly he was anything but.

This was his first time visiting the Twin Cities. While the airship had been waiting in line to descend, Jarvan III had stood on the deck looking out over Piltover and Zaun. The shock he felt had been beyond words.

That stretch of land extending from Zaun all the way toward Shurima...

The Twin Cities were truly crossing the sea, connecting two continents, and creating a whole new landmass.

The strange new architecture, the countless lines of people moving like ants below, all of it had left him deeply shaken.

The Twin Cities truly had pulled ahead of the entire world. And while Jarvan III was stunned by what he saw, he also felt all the more certain that his own choice had been the right one.

He had cast aside old ideas and rejected the conservative path. For a Demacian, and one from a nation so often mocked by outsiders as hidebound and backward, he had seen farther than Noxus had.

"Take a good look, Garen," said the old emperor. "In the future, you'll be stationed here permanently as Demacia's diplomatic envoy to the Twin Cities."

At the front of the group, the sturdy young man who had been following in silence stepped forward two paces and bowed respectfully.

"Yes, I will," Garen Crownguard answered, his whole body tense with seriousness.

Jarvan III smiled and shook his head. "No need to be so nervous."

"From what Fiora told me, Lux is doing quite well in Zaun. She's made plenty of new friends. Posting you here does not mean I think less of you. I know full well the bond between you and my son. You will become his sword and shield, just as your aunt was mine."

Tianna smiled faintly, her fingers brushing the hilt of her sword.

She rarely smiled, but hearing the old emperor say that, she felt deeply honored.

She had enlisted in the army when she was still in her teens, and had become Jarvan III's personal guard before she was even twenty. She might still look young and beautiful now, but in truth, Tianna was already closing in on fifty.

Garen and Jarvan IV were the next generation of Tianna and Jarvan III. The Crownguards would serve the Lightshields as close confidants for generations to come.

Though what had happened with Lux really was a bit unfortunate...

"Come on, let's go meet Logan," Jarvan III said as he walked at the front of the group. Paying no mind at all to the looks from passersby, he said loudly and cheerfully, "I've only ever heard his name before. This will be my first time meeting him in person."

By the time Jarvan III arrived at Piltover's council building, quite a few leaders from smaller nations were already there, along with people from the Freljord.

What surprised Jarvan III was that the person sitting in the Freljord's lead seat was someone he did not recognize. It was neither Ashe, leader of the Avarosans, nor Sejuani, warmother of the Winter's Claw.

Instead, it was a woman with smooth white hair wound into a knot at the back of her head, sitting there with her eyes closed.

Her face was small, her skin white as snow. A scar crossed the area around her eyes, but instead of marring her, it gave her a different kind of allure.

At the head of the room sat a black-haired young man. Behind him stood a short-haired woman with reddish hair in the gray-black uniform of the Enforcers, along with a Vastayan man in the same uniform.

"Welcome to the Twin Cities, Your Majesty Jarvan III," the black-haired young man said with a smile, rising to his feet and gesturing in greeting.

Jarvan III recognized him instantly.

He had never met Logan before, but stories about him had spread across all of Runeterra. His footprints had touched nearly every land.

Shurima, Ionia, the Freljord, Noxus, Bilgewater, all of them had stories about him. The rumors painted him as a refined-looking, slender black-haired man with the appearance of a typical Ionian.

Now that Jarvan III saw him in person, he had to admit the rumors were not wrong at all.

He did look rather slight. Any random soldier plucked from a Demacian camp would probably be broader than him. There was also a gentleness about him, something that made people want to draw near without even thinking. That, more than anything, surprised Jarvan III.

As the ruler of a nation, a man who had lived more than half his life and weathered countless storms, Jarvan III had long since stopped judging people by their appearance. He certainly did not take a liking to someone just because of the way they looked.

And yet he had to admit, right now he did feel a favorable impression toward Logan.

As for whether there could be some mistake, after all, black-haired people were everywhere, and there were plenty of Ionians in the Twin Cities now, that was ridiculous.

Just look at who was seated there.

On Logan's left sat Silco, Zaun's chief voice to the outside world. On his right sat the most powerful man in Piltover, Jayce Talis, whose portrait now sold like crazy on cups in Demacia, since by Demacian standards, Jayce was extremely handsome.

Talented, wealthy, broad-shouldered, and good-looking, there were many noblewomen in Demacia who adored that kind of man.

Next to them was Mel, who had exchanged letters with Jarvan III many times, and then Lissandra, with two women standing behind her, one tall, white-haired, and radiating a wild sort of beauty, the other also white-haired but shorter, with a delicate oval face and striking looks.

Jarvan III's eyes shifted as a thought came to him.

Ashe and Sejuani?

But why were those two standing?

Didn't the two sisters rule the Freljord?

"Come, have a seat," Logan said with a smile, extending a hand. "Wait just a moment. Swain will be here any second, and after he arrives, there's still one more person to wait for."

Jarvan III nodded with a smile. "He and I were practically on each other's heels. He should already be on the way."

The old emperor did not ask who was arriving after Swain. From the look of things, with the Freljord, Noxus, and Demacia all already represented, that was more than enough.

As he spoke, Jarvan III took the seat opposite the unfamiliar white-haired woman with her eyes closed. His gaze did not linger openly on her, but his attention remained fixed on her the whole time.

He was not a man moved by beauty. What drew him in was her mysterious identity.

So, as casually as if the thought had only just occurred to him, Jarvan III asked, "Logan, may I ask who this lady is?"

"Lissandra, from the Freljord."

"That name means nothing to me," said Jarvan III. "But if I'm not mistaken, the two women behind her should be Warmother Sejuani and Warmother Ashe?"

Logan smiled and nodded. "That's right."

"I know what you're asking," Silco said quietly from the side, "but things are exactly as they look. The person who truly calls the shots in the Freljord is Lady Lissandra, sitting right here."

Everything Silco knew about Lissandra came from Logan and Janna. Logan had told him Lissandra had lived for more than ten thousand years. Janna had told him she was far weaker than Lissandra.

Because of that, Silco treated Lissandra with immense respect. And beyond that, he had heard plenty of stories from Jinx too.

This woman was one of Logan's most capable allies. She had helped him with many things, and she had also saved and aided Jinx before.

So even setting aside her strength and her identity, Jinx alone was enough reason for Silco to respect her.

As he finished speaking, there came a knock at the door.

Behind Logan, Vi and Scar exchanged glances. Scar jerked his chin and looked away.

Vi let out a sigh and called loudly, "Come in!"

The door swung open, and a tall, lean man in a black coat walked in.

Military boots. Gloves. White hair combed into perfect order. Not a speck of dust anywhere on him. Swain had only one person following behind him, and she was an old acquaintance of the Twin Cities.

As she entered, she winked at Vi. Then, when she spotted Garen standing behind Jarvan III, she lifted a brow and smiled.

It was Katarina.

"I believe I've arrived at exactly the right moment," Swain said calmly as he entered.

"You have," Logan replied with a smile and a nod, gesturing toward the table. "Come, your seat is right beside His Majesty."

Swain did not stand on ceremony. He led Katarina over to the old emperor's side, then sat down.

"There's still one more person who hasn't, oh. She's here already."

As Logan said that, his expression turned odd.

Everyone looked at him, not understanding what he meant. The door was still open, but Jarvan III did not see anyone there.

Swain, however, suddenly went rigid for a brief instant, then immediately relaxed again, lowering his guard.

"Vi, open the window for me, would you?"

"Yeah, yeah, just keep ordering me around," Vi grumbled.

She walked past Scar to the window and pressed a button.

With a click, the window lifted upward, and the visible blue magical barrier sealing it away dissolved.

Everyone looked over just in time to see an iridescent bridge suddenly appear.

The next moment, a strange green light flashed, and two figures appeared on the bridge.

In the blink of an eye, they entered the room.

One was a young woman in red leather armor with black hair and floating blades behind her, still carrying a trace of youthful softness in her face. Beside her stood a dark-skinned woman in green priestess robes, with two spirit-dragons behind her.

"Irelia, thank you for coming," Logan said as he rose to greet her.

The instant he spoke her name, Jarvan III's expression turned strange. Zhao Xin and Tianna wore similar looks.

As they looked at the girl, who seemed about the same age as Lux, shock filled Jarvan III's eyes, and Tianna's too.

Irelia.

Several years ago, Demacia had received military reports through Tianna's hands regarding the war between Noxus and Ionia, and Tianna had specifically brought one matter from them to Jarvan III's attention.

That report had recorded this:

A fourteen-year-old Ionian girl had stood alone against a hundred men on the battlefield, personally severed the arm of the Noxian commanding officer in the midst of battle, and led the resistance that brought the war to an end.

How old was she now?

Tianna's own life was already the stuff of legend, becoming a sword-captain of the Dauntless Vanguard while still very young, then rising to Grand Marshal of Demacia before even reaching middle age, taking command of its armies.

But what had Tianna been doing at fourteen?

Practicing swordsmanship. Learning to ride horses.

And what had Lux been doing at fourteen?

No, really, how could the gap between people be that ridiculous?

Logan had no idea what Jarvan III was thinking, of course, but seeing Irelia and Swain appear in the same room did amuse him.

At the moment, Swain had closed his eyes just like Lissandra and was pretending he had heard absolutely nothing, sitting there in serene silence. It was genuinely funny.

Because if he really did not care, given Swain's character and the kind of man he was, he would never have reacted like that in the first place. It would have been impolite.

And as for Irelia, she was awkward too.

Basically...

Irelia: Could someone please tell me what I'm supposed to say when I'm sitting down to talk with the man whose arm I cut off? Answers needed urgently, seriously.

"All right, now that everyone is here, let me explain why I invited you all."

"Besides the matter of the Federation seats I mentioned in my letters, and having all of you witness the birth of new Zaun, there's one more thing I need to discuss with everyone. Though we don't need to rush into that just yet."

Logan stood, braced both hands on the table, and leaned forward to look at the leaders seated around it.

The representatives of the smaller nations sat at the far end of the long table. Among them was Sarah, Bilgewater's sea queen and Zaun's naval chief. Closer to the front sat, in order,

Jarvan III of Demacia.

Swain of Noxus.

Irelia of Ionia.

Lissandra of the Freljord.

And,

Logan of the Twin Cities.

The leaders of the nations had all gathered at last.

Yes.

It was time to begin.

Across from Swain, beside Irelia, Lissandra, who radiated a chill from where she sat, slowly opened her eyes.

Those pale pupils held no sign of life. Sitting there in silence, she felt grateful for the choice she had made back then.

Yes.

This time, Lissandra would not be fighting alone.

She knew what the other matter Logan intended to bring up was, because the two of them had already discussed it in advance.

It was this.

To kill the Watchers.

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