Malphegor
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Arcane: TTB: Ch. 158
🕑 Added 2026-01-17 01:30:53 +0000 UTC"FIRE! Keep firing, goddamn it!"
Emystan's command sword slashed downward.
The fleet's gun crews scrambled to adjust their aim, cannons swiveling to track the drone swarm. They fired in rotating volleys, trying to maintain continuous coverage while compensating for the drones' movement. Shell casings clattered across the decks as loaders hauled fresh ammunition into position. Nobody wanted to be the one who slowed down when Emystan was in this kind of mood. When she got angry, people died. Simple as that.
The sky lit up again with explosions.
But this time, the drones weren't just sitting there taking it. The formation scattered. In perfect synchronization, the swarm broke into smaller groups. They came from above, below, left, right.
"Cease fire! Mage corps, prepare defensive wards! Archers, ready!"
At this range, continuing the bombardment would just kill her own people on the docks.
The hired actors and Piltover elite weren't stupid. They'd been paid to wave flags and smile, not to stand around while a battle broke out overhead. The docks turned into a stampede as everyone tried to flee at once.
"Camille!" Emystan shouted. "Get your people to control this mess! They panic at the first sign of trouble, what kind of pathetic display is this?"
The battle was going badly, she was furious, and the sight of Piltover's so-called elite trampling each other in terror only made it worse. These useless bastards couldn't help her fight. But she still needed them if she wanted to govern Piltover once this was over.
She pushed down her frustration and focused on the immediate problem.
For a brief moment, she'd considered using the assembled militia as cannon fodder. But she'd abandoned the idea almost immediately.
Camille wasn't an idiot. Her operatives carried advanced Hextech weapons with impressive range. And that "militia" was a complicated mess. She could barely control them even with her family agents providing muscle. Their combat effectiveness was questionable at best.
And Emystan had a strange feeling, that if she tried to use that Piltover force as expendable troops, there was a chance they'd just surrender to Zaun immediately and turn their guns on her own soldiers. It was an irrational concern. Camille was competent, her agents were well-armed. They could suppress a mutiny easily enough.
But she had survived this long by trusting her instincts. Better to play it safe.
"I'll handle it," Camille said. "I only hope your warband's strength won't disappoint me."
There was something in that look. Emystan couldn't quite parse it. She'd never seriously suspected Camille of betrayal. In her mind, anyone might defect to Zaun, except Camille and Clan Ferros. How could a vendetta ever be resolved without one side being completely destroyed?
By the time she thought to ask what Camille had meant by that comment, the woman was already striding away. And the drone swarm was closing fast, leaving no time for questions.
"All units, full attack!"
The drones had entered optimal range for her forces. She raised her sword and gave the order.
But something bothered her. Based on the drones' performance at the Hexgate, their mounted weapons should have superior range to both mages and crossbows. So why weren't they firing first?
"Loose!"
The fleet's crossbowmen fired in coordinated volleys, sending a storm of bolts into the air. Interwoven with the arrows came magical attacks from the mage corps.
Emystan's hired mages were a hodgepodge collection, drawn from across Runeterra with no unified training or doctrine. Every common elemental affinity was represented. It was a symptom of Runeterra's fragmented magical community. There were no mage towers, guilds, or institutions to standardize magical education. Even the most powerful archmages pursued their own interests rather than developing the field as a whole.
Most mages never received proper training, surviving on raw talent alone. Their understanding of magical theory was shallow, and their power levels wildly inconsistent.
Somewhere in Piltover, there was a talented individual with incredible magical potential. But instead of developing combat applications, they'd chosen to become a performer, wasting their gift on concerts.
If someone like Karthus had possessed that talent, he'd have been unstoppable. A single Requiem would be a guaranteed execution.
The barrage struck the drone swarm.
And did almost nothing.
The drones activated their force-field shields and flew straight through the attack. Enchanted bolts and magical projectiles splashed harmlessly against the barriers. Only a handful of exceptionally powerful mages managed to penetrate the defenses, and even then the drones just compensated with redundant systems.
---
Back at The Last Drop, half the display screens showed live feeds from the harbor. The other half showed technical readouts.
"Combat testing complete," Blitzcrank reported. "Powder's improved force-field generator shows 35.6% increase in energy efficiency and 56.2% improvement in shield strength. Preliminary modeling indicates the design meets defensive requirements for mech deployment."
Cipher walked over to where Powder was sitting, poured her tea, and ruffled her hair affectionately.
"Good work. What do you want as a reward?"
The drones deployed today weren't attack units. They were mobile test platforms for new defensive technology. For combat, Viktor's improved laser cannons were more than sufficient. The laser cannons had been upgraded again. Range increased from five kilometers to fifty. At this rate, precision strikes at extreme distance were becoming routine.
"I'll save it," Powder said, swatting his hand away from her hair. "I haven't decided yet."
"Fair enough." Cipher's expression hardened. "Testing's done. Blitzcrank, activate the laser batteries. Hit seven or eight of her ships."
"Acknowledged."
One of Zaun's high-rise buildings opened its roof panels, revealing the laser cannon installation. Blitzcrank used the drone feeds to calculate firing solutions, adjusted for wind and atmospheric distortion.
The cannon's barrel gathered energy, the glow building from deep within. Then it fired.
---
A massive beam of concentrated light lanced across the distance. One of Emystan's warships simply ceased to exist, vaporized so completely that the mage-corps defensive wards might as well have been tissue paper.
The beam tracked across the water, selecting another target. Another ship disappeared.
"What..."
Emystan stared in disbelief. She'd known Zaun had laser weapons. But she'd thought the range was limited, that she'd be safe at this distance. She'd been wrong.
In the span of seconds, her fleet's strength was cut by a quarter.
"CEASE FIRE! I surrender! I SURRENDER!"
Emystan dropped to her knees without hesitation.
If Zaun could precision-strike her ships from this distance, they could precision-strike her. And even if they couldn't target individuals that accurately, once her fleet was gone she'd be a commander without troops.
She had more enemies than she could count back in Noxus. Without her warband, she was dead. At least surrender gave her a chance to survive.
---
Beep, beep, beep...
Camille's communicator chirped. She answered, already moving away from the docks.
"Camille. Convene all nobility for a meeting. I have an announcement to make."
Emystan's voice. That was... unexpected.
Her expression didn't change, but internally she was recalculating. By her assessment, Emystan's warband should already be destroyed. Either Zaun's firepower wasn't as overwhelming as she'd thought, or something else was happening.
"Location?"
"Piltover Council chamber. I'll arrive shortly."
"Understood. I'll make arrangements. No more than thirty minutes. I'll await your arrival."
Camille ended the call.
"Notify all nobles," she ordered her agents. "Meeting attendance is mandatory. Those who refuse, bring them anyway."
She only cared about preserving Clan Ferros now. Piltover's fate was no longer her concern. The city belonged to Zaun whether its people admitted it yet or not.
Emystan had been defeated but allowed to live. That meant Zaun still had use for her. Probably several reasons. Her mind went immediately to that merchant who'd been fawning over Emystan earlier.
But one was certainly this: to help Piltover's population accept the inevitable, and demonstrate that Zaun's rule was a mercy compared to the alternatives.
---
In Zaun's underground facility, Cipher stood before the four captured Crimson Elite members.
"Is someone like this really worth your loyalty?"
On the screen behind him, footage played of Emystan's surrender. Not just the initial capitulation, but everything that followed.
The woman had folded instantly. She'd volunteered intelligence on Noxian military deployments before anyone even asked.
He had initially suspected a trap and contacted Swain to verify. Swain's response had been blunt: the intelligence was genuine.
All of it was laid out in front of the Crimson Elite.
"This is real? You didn't fake any of this?"
Riven's voice was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Something in her expression looked broken.
They'd held out for days. And for what? Their commanding officer had surrendered the moment things looked bad, with less dignity than a common criminal.
Everything Noxus preached about honor and pride, it was all just empty words. The people at the top didn't believe any of it. They just used those ideals to manipulate soldiers into dying for them.
"Fuck Emystan!" Marit grabbed Riven's hand. "We're surrendering."
While Riven was still processing Emystan's betrayal, Marit's mind was already thinking ahead. Cipher had contacted Swain directly. Which meant Swain was involved. Possibly orchestrating the whole thing.
Think it through. Swain and Emystan were both military leadership. Zaun operated under Swain's sphere of influence. There was no way Zaun attacked Emystan's warband without Swain's approval.
So why would one Noxian military titan destroy another?
And looking back at Emystan's recent actions, it had all violated Noxus's unwritten rules. You didn't attack territories claimed by other members without permission.
House Medarda was still operating in Piltover. Swain controlled Zaun. They weren't dead yet, which meant their claims were still valid. Emystan had walked straight into a trap. Probably one designed by Swain, Zaun, and House Medarda working together.
And if Swain was orchestrating the destruction of generals like Emystan... He was preparing to move against the old aristocracy. Maybe even against Emperor Darkwill himself.
The realization hit Marit. Her family wasn't powerful, but they were old nobility. Exactly the kind of house that would be purged in a revolution.
If Zaun could annihilate Emystan's entire warband, they could do the same to others. Combined with Swain's tactical thinking, Noxus's old guard wouldn't stand a chance.
Surrender now, and maybe her family could be spared.
"Marit?" Riven looked confused, not understanding why her friend was suddenly panicking.
"Don't you get it?" Marit was almost shouting. "This isn't betrayal, we're pledging loyalty to General Swain! We're on the winning side!"
She turned to the others, making sure they were paying attention. "You know him. He's the only one who can make Noxus truly great. Emperor Darkwill is driving the empire toward destruction. General Swain is changing everything, he's Noxus's future!"
She looked at Cipher. "I'm right, aren't I?"
Cipher studied her with surprise. He'd only done two things in front of them: shown Emystan's surrender, and contacted Swain. From just that, this woman had deduced a political conspiracy involving multiple power factions and correctly identified Swain's ultimate objectives.
"Yes," he said simply.
Noxus really did produce exceptional people.
"Please, let us join you." Marit made a fist and struck it against her heart. "The Crimson Elite is ready to serve."
She glared at the others, silently commanding them to follow her lead. When Riven hesitated, Marit grabbed her hand and forced it into the salute position.
