Chapitre 167: -164- I will definitely take Navori
Noxian Calendar, February 26th.
In the Eastern Isles—Ionia.
The crimson war flag hung low. Inside the Noxian camp, Swain stood in his tent, lowering his head silently, studying the sand table before him.
At this moment, in Swain's army, no one dared to enter his tent during his midday strategy sessions. All the generals knew that disturbing the Grand General during this time was akin to seeking death.
Unless you had urgent matters.
In Swain's army, his orders superseded everything, except for those of Darkwill.
After all these years, Swain's forces had been depleted by Darkwill's frequent conscriptions. This led to Swain, despite penetrating the heart of Ionia, struggling to conquer it, gradually retreating in recent years.
Was it due to his incompetence?
Not at all!
Noxian strongholds across the deserts of Shurima proved Swain's capability.
Now, the incompetence lay with the Emperor of the Empire.
The incapable one was Darkwill.
But no one dared to utter those words.
"I have lured her into the trenches. Now, I just need to expose a vulnerability, entice them deeper, then compress the front, surround her and those following her, and victory will be ours."
"But manpower is lacking. My forces are not enough."
Swain silently observed the sand table, thousands of possibilities flashing through his mind. His innate talents, sharpness, and cleverness were gifts from birth.
"If only the First Legion were still here. They were valiant, well-coordinated, and equipped with powerful runic weapons. With that one hundred or so soldiers, I could surely take down Navori!"
"But ultimately, it comes down to Dukor. Enjoying the enemy's fear?"
Swain's hand touched his chin, lightly rubbing it. He closed his eyes.
Dukor hadn't killed her immediately, instead allowing someone to shatter her family emblem in front of her.
His actions created a big problem.
Dancing with the blade, to protect Ionia.
Dukor had released a monster, someone leading the Ionian resistance against Noxus.
Swain contemplated many things at this moment, searching for opportunities to defeat the enemy in every possible detail.
Now, on the island of Navori, more and more people were following that girl.
But it's okay... It's okay.
I still have enough time to plan.
"A brief setback is not a failure. Let her be proud, then I'll take her down with one move."
One year, Swain believed that he still had a year to implement his plan. He needed to refine his plan carefully, submit another request to the Emperor to return Kolck and those one hundred or so soldiers. If possible, having the First Legion return with an additional five hundred soldiers would be ideal.
That way, in less than two years, Swain would undoubtedly capture Navori Island.
And Ionia would cease to exist!
Just as Swain was lost in thought, a voice came from outside the tent.
"Grand General."
Swain extended his hand, overturning the sand table. With a stern expression, he said, "Come in."
A robust man walked in, offering a Noxian salute. After that, he looked at Swain and spoke in a deep voice, "The Immortal Bastion has issued orders. We are to immediately abandon the attack on Ionia. The Elixir of Immortality is not in Ionia but in Zaun."
"..."
Swain remained calm, nodding to signal the messenger to continue.
"We've just received news, Grand General. Just a few days ago, His Majesty dispatched Lord Sion and General Kolck to attack Zaun. However, the result was... both Lord Sion and General Kolck, they're dead."
Swain's pupils contracted, he leaned on the table, and in a deep voice, he said, "Is there someone in Zaun capable of repelling Sion?"
And Kolck too?
A trusted lieutenant of Swain.
They shared the same ideals.
A talent nurtured by Swain himself.
And now he's dead? Died in a place like Zaun?
This couldn't be!
But Swain knew there was nothing impossible in this world.
Especially since this had already happened.
"It's one person, Grand General. The High Priest of the church says that the one who killed Lord Sion and General Kork was just one person."
"..."
"In the Battle of Piltover Mountains, we lost a total of six hundred and seventeen soldiers, four earth dragons, and.... we lost Lord Sion."
As he spoke, a skeptical expression appeared on his face.
"One person?"
Swain turned away, sighed, and said, "How much time does His Majesty's command give us to return?"
"Seven days. Grand General, you must lead the troops back to Noxus within seven days, otherwise, it will be a charge of incompetence."
"Leave," Swain said indifferently, "Today, two meals will be served, and let the soldiers rest well. Tomorrow, ready the entire army."
The officer hesitated for a moment, then quickly spoke, "Grand General!"
"Get out!"
"Out!"
After the messenger left, Swain's face showed a bitter expression.
Even he, at this moment, felt weary.
He was too tired.
So tired that he started to doubt the usefulness of his actions.
Is what I'm doing really effective?
Darkwill, how long will you continue this nonsense?
Leaning against the table, Swain fell into contemplation.
Noxus was now in dire straits.
Fighting on all fronts without results. Having enemies from all directions wasn't a big deal; Noxus excelled at sustaining war with war. But stopping the war midway, haphazardly deploying and commanding troops—what kind of nonsense was this?
Now, Darkwill's orders had become even more outrageous.
Draining the Empire's considerable wealth and manpower, Darkwill pursued the dream of immortality, plunging Noxus into a situation of engaging enemies in all directions.
Even now, immortality was still the priority.
For the sake of immortality, Darkwill abandoned war.
Withdraw!
Withdraw!!
Withdraw!!!
For years, Noxus hadn't been able to conquer a single piece of land.
Aside from the territory Swain had taken from Shurima, against Demacia, Freljord, and Ionia, Noxus's campaigns... Now, all were unsuccessful!
"There was a time... when I admired you."
Swain looked down at his hands.
"But now, you are no longer fit to rule this empire."
"In your hands, Noxus will only sink into mud step by step."
"Noxus can no longer withstand your antics."
Swain silently stared at his hands.
Years of hard work, neglecting emotions, had accumulated too much.
Now,
it's time to erupt.
"In seven days."
"Thud!"
Large hands pressed on the sand table, pressing on the map.
Firmly pressing on the archipelago.
A glint flashed in Swain's hawk-like eyes.
"I will definitely take Navori!"
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone