"KILL!!!"
The battle cry echoed across the borderlands as Garen led his forces into their third day of conflict—and their first major engagement since his return to the front lines.
The Noxian soldiers had apparently completed their recovery period and were once again advancing toward Demacian territory with renewed aggression. Through repeated trial and error, the Empire's military strategists had developed refined combat protocols that had previously proven effective against every defensive position.
This time, they were confident that even Demacia's most elite general commanding their finest troops couldn't halt their advance.
The opposing armies collided with devastating force, immediately erupting into vicious close-quarters combat. Enhanced Noxian soldiers who had consumed their chemical stimulants charged directly toward Garen's position, hoping to overwhelm him through sheer numbers before their drug-induced strength wore off.
Facing such a massive wave of artificially empowered enemies, Garen couldn't entirely suppress a flicker of uncertainty. He still wasn't completely sure whether the spiritual armor would provide sufficient power to stop this enhanced army.
But retreat wasn't an option. Gritting his teeth with determination, he raised his massive storm sword and charged into the Noxian ranks.
As a seasoned general, Garen possessed considerable personal combat skills even without magical enhancement. Despite facing chemically boosted opponents, he managed to use his great sword's reach and weight to block multiple attackers while systematically eliminating them one by one.
Each time he killed an enemy soldier, Garen felt warmth spreading through his body as a new force manifested within him—energy that continued growing with every victory.
"CHARGE!!!" he roared, swinging his great sword in devastating arcs that carved through enemy formations like a predator among helpless prey.
Every soldier he slew was instantly converted into azure energy that flowed directly into his armor, feeding its supernatural capabilities.
As the battle progressed, the Noxian commander began noticing serious problems with his carefully planned assault. His forces weren't advancing nearly as quickly as anticipated, despite their chemical advantages.
"What's happening at the front lines?" he demanded.
A shadowy figure materialized behind him, reporting with respectful deference.
"General Garen Crownguard of Demacia is personally blocking our advance, sir."
"Garen Crownguard? That mindless brute is actually stopping our enhanced army?"
The commander couldn't hide his surprise. Those drug-enhanced soldiers possessed individual strength rivaling the Empire's most elite units. For such a force to be halted by a single warrior—even one of Garen's reputation—suggested significant changes in the tactical situation.
He could think of only one logical explanation: somehow, Garen had become significantly more powerful.
"Order the reserves to consume their stimulants as well," he commanded grimly. "I still require a trophy made from enemy skulls."
"Understood, sir!"
The shadowy figure dissolved back into darkness, disappearing completely as it merged with the surrounding shadows.
Meanwhile, on the front lines, Garen called his personal guard together after repelling the latest Noxian assault. Based on current combat patterns, the Empire clearly wasn't planning to withdraw anytime soon. He would need to continue fighting for the foreseeable future.
But he couldn't single-handedly stop an entire army of chemically enhanced soldiers, regardless of his personal skill level. The time had come to activate the armor's second stage and enter its spiritual form.
Only by sharing his enhanced capabilities with his most trusted warriors could they hope to resist Noxus's overwhelming offensive.
"Guards, disperse throughout our battle lines and prepare for total war!" Garen commanded with absolute authority.
Azure light erupted from his body as fifty elite guardsmen found themselves enveloped in radiant energy. Their standard equipment transformed to match his spiritual armor exactly, and they immediately felt incredible power flowing through their bodies.
The moment the transformation completed, every guard experienced strength matching their general's enhanced capabilities.
"Go! Use this power to stop their advance!" Garen declared.
His own transformation was even more dramatic—brilliant blue light blazed from every surface of his armor while metallic wings unfurled from his back, creating an appearance both sacred and terrifying.
The spiritual state granted Garen power that made his previous abilities seem insignificant by comparison. He felt confident he could easily defeat dozens of his former self.
When the next Noxian offensive began, Garen took point position, his entire body radiating blinding radiance as he plunged into the enemy army.
Fifty-one transformed warriors moved through the Noxian ranks like reapers through wheat. No matter how desperately the soldiers fought, they couldn't meaningfully affect these supernatural opponents. Each kill strengthened the spiritual warriors further, creating an escalating cycle of dominance.
Under such overwhelming assault, the Noxian army quickly collapsed into full retreat. Even their commander could only helplessly order withdrawal after witnessing Garen's impossible power.
He finally understood the true scope of their tactical disadvantage. Such strength was beyond anything conventional forces could challenge.
This situation required immediate escalation to higher command levels. No field commander possessed authority to handle supernatural threats of this magnitude.
Several Days Later - Mithral City
Garen returned to the capital aboard his dragonbird mount, practically radiating satisfaction and pride. The spiritual armor had exceeded every expectation, allowing him to decisively repel Noxian aggression.
"...That concludes my battle report," he announced to the assembled council. "We achieved complete victory and successfully defended our borders."
He gestured toward the spiritual armor displayed beside his chair—equipment that truly deserved comparison to legendary artifacts from the age of heroes.
After examining the armor, Prince Jarvan IV nodded with obvious pleasure.
"Excellent work. This armor has proven invaluable to our defense. That diplomatic exchange was an outstanding investment."
While Demacia had certainly paid substantial resources and treasures for these gifts, the armor's battlefield effectiveness more than justified the expense. Based on Garen's detailed combat reports, this equipment qualified as a true national treasure.
Beyond the armor's capabilities, Prince Jarvan IV possessed those Petricite Guards for personal protection. The magical constructs created an nearly impregnable security bubble around him—bypassing them to launch assassination attempts would be virtually impossible.
Combined with Lux's Marcus-granted magical abilities and her successful activation of the Colossus of Justice, Demacia's strategic position had improved dramatically.
The leadership meeting continued in high spirits, but far away in Noxus's Immortal Fortress, a very different conversation was taking place.
"Defeated?" Swain raised an eyebrow with genuine surprise.
He understood perfectly how powerful those chemically enhanced warriors became under the influence of Zaun's combat stimulants. For such a force to suffer complete defeat suggested major changes in Demacian capabilities.
"Yes, Grand General," came a voice from the shadows, reporting with precise detail. "According to front-line intelligence, Garen Crownguard appears to have acquired specialized equipment. When he routed our forces, both he and his troops displayed metallic wings—resembling the angels of Mount Targon."
A shadow figure materialized just enough to deliver its report before fading back into darkness.
"Angels? I've heard rumors of celestial beings descending from Mount Targon, but their locations remain unknown..."
Swain extended his crimson arm and tapped thoughtfully against the table's surface, his mind already working through various possibilities and strategic implications.
"Leave me," he commanded.
He needed to consult with the entity dwelling within his arm—a conversation requiring absolute privacy, beyond even his most trusted confidants.
The shadow swayed slightly before vanishing completely. Swain turned his attention to his scarlet limb.
"Tell me about these angels," he demanded.
His arm twisted unnaturally as a pair of dark red eyes manifested along its surface.
"Angels from Mount Targon? Indeed, they represent formidable opposition," the demon admitted with obvious amusement. "However, the two who recently descended are merely mortals carrying angelic bloodlines. Hahaha..."
The creature's laughter carried both mockery and dark satisfaction. The truly powerful beings on Mount Targon were the Aspects themselves, followed by genuine celestial angels. Such entities considered themselves gods—far too elevated to involve themselves in mortal conflicts.
Only those humans touched by angelic heritage would participate in such mundane warfare.
"Mortals with angel blood?" Swain's lips curved into a calculating smile. An interesting possibility was forming in his mind. "If primordial demons were to engage these pseudo-angels, would that draw the Aspects' attention?"
"Unlikely in most cases. The majority of Aspects maintain their divine detachment," the demon replied thoughtfully. "However, that Twilight Aspect is insufferably meddlesome."
The Twilight Aspect remained the most active among all cosmic entities, behaving like a sheltered child encountering the world for the first time. She possessed an irritating habit of inserting herself into various conflicts and situations. Her personality was equally problematic—she delighted in manipulating and tormenting others for entertainment.
For a period, even the demons had found her presence unbearable.
"Excellent. I hope Demacia can withstand my counterattack," Swain mused with dark satisfaction.
Thanks to the demon inhabiting his arm, he possessed extensive knowledge about other supernatural entities throughout the world. This understanding would prove crucial for his developing strategy.
Vander's Last Drop Tavern - Zaun
"Have you heard about the monster that appeared in Noxus?" a traveling merchant was saying to his drinking companions, his voice carrying obvious excitement from sharing fresh gossip. "Every time it shows up, it's accompanied by massive flocks of crows. People surrounded by those birds get turned into skeletons—absolutely terrifying to imagine!"
Despite having only recently entered Zaun, these merchants possessed considerable knowledge about regional events and developments.
"A monster appeared in Noxus?" multiple patrons responded with interest.
While supernatural threats weren't entirely unprecedented in that region, this particular description was unfamiliar to most listeners. A creature that controlled crows to kill people represented something genuinely unusual.
Marcus, seated at the bar, immediately recognized the implications of this report. His expression grew thoughtful as pieces clicked into place.
"It seems chaos is indeed approaching," he murmured to himself.
Very few beings in this world possessed the ability to control crows, and Marcus knew only two such entities personally.
One was Swain, the Grand General of Noxus, but his political responsibilities would prevent extended field operations. The other possibility was far more concerning: Fiddlesticks, the primordial demon of fear who manifested as a scarecrow-like entity.
Given the circumstances, this "monster" was almost certainly Fiddlesticks.
"A demon has appeared in Noxus. Swain must have summoned it deliberately," Marcus concluded. "The target is clearly the spiritual equipment."
The Void Feathers he'd provided to Lux could transform ordinary gear into spiritual equipment with supernatural capabilities. Such powerful artifacts posed serious threats to conventional military forces.
To combat users of spiritual equipment effectively, opponents needed to deploy beings of comparable power level.
While Noxus certainly possessed individuals who could match Garen's baseline abilities, very few could challenge him when equipped with spiritual armor enhancement.
"Fiddlesticks has made its move. Other demons should follow soon," Marcus observed with anticipation.
He smiled as he settled in to await news from the developing conflict between Demacia and Noxus. After all, he hadn't forgotten his goal of collecting power from these demonic entities.
Compared to Marcus's relaxed confidence, Vander's expression showed genuine concern.
Regardless of the specific details, this creature didn't sound like something easily defeated. If it decided to leave Noxian territory and move toward Zaun, they could face serious problems.
"Marcus, what about our crystal towers..." Vander began uncertainly.
"Don't worry about Zaun's safety," Marcus interrupted reassuringly. "Janna will always protect this city."
As if responding to his words, a gentle breeze caressed their faces with obvious warmth and affection.
Ever since Marcus had awakened her, Janna had maintained constant vigilance over the Twin Cities. After learning about the wind goddess's protection, Vander and other citizens had begun regularly offering prayers for the safety of seafaring traders and travelers.
These devotions had significantly restored Janna's power compared to her previous dormant state. She remained committed to defending Zaun against all threats. If demons attempted to endanger the population, she would respond immediately.
"See? Janna agrees with my assessment," Marcus said with a confident smile.
Feeling the goddess's gentle touch, Vander nodded with renewed confidence. Marcus's logic was sound.
Zaun wasn't a defenseless target anymore. They enjoyed divine protection and possessed the Hextech Crystal Towers' technological defenses. These combined barriers made them effectively invulnerable to most conventional threats.
"We're incredibly fortunate to have met you," Vander declared warmly, refilling Marcus's drink with obvious gratitude.
Without Marcus's intervention, none of their current prosperity would exist. They might still be scrambling like rats under Piltover's council directives, struggling for basic survival in the undercity's toxic environment.
He felt genuinely satisfied with their transformed circumstances and remained deeply grateful for Marcus's assistance.
"Think nothing of it," Marcus replied casually, finishing his drink and rising to leave. "I simply needed a temporary residence."
He waved farewell to Vander and departed the tavern.
Since the demons had begun moving openly, he needed to prepare appropriate responses. After all, these were primordial entities deserving of proper respect—and strategic planning.
Returning to his workshop, Marcus found Jinx and Ekko still diligently practicing their runic inscription. They seemed to be developing some intuitive understanding, though their attempts remained severely distorted compared to proper runic forms.
"What are you two working on? Rune practice?" Marcus asked, studying their efforts.
Looking at the malformed symbols they'd produced, he couldn't suppress a slight eye twitch. While he'd expected them to require considerable time for mastery, could these barely recognizable scribbles actually function as runic circuits?
Hearing his question, both students immediately stopped their work. When they saw the grotesquely ugly runes their own hands had created, their faces flushed with embarrassment.
"We're just trying to capture the essence of runic power," they replied sheepishly. "But we admit they look rather... awful."
Comparing their crude attempts with Marcus's elegant examples made steam practically rise from their heads in mortification.
However, Marcus chose not to tease them further. While their runes were indeed hideously malformed, they had made genuine progress in understanding the underlying principles.
"Remember, balance between work and rest is essential," he advised kindly. "You'll only produce uglier results by obsessing over continuous practice. Go enjoy yourselves for a while."
With Marcus's permission, both students leaped up excitedly and rushed from the room, chattering happily as they went to find entertainment elsewhere.
After dismissing his students, Marcus settled at his workbench and began preparing several small gifts for the approaching demons.