Arcane: The Gods Want Me to Pick a Route-Chapter 128: Swain and LeBlanc

Piltover — the Council Archives. The councilors of Zaun arrived late at night.

At Logan’s side, Jinx tagged along too, yawning. She was bored out of her mind, and she was deeply annoyed about holding a meeting in the middle of the night. She muttered under her breath, "Are you kidding me? What kind of sane person holds a council meeting at midnight?"

"If a missile came flying in right now, wouldn’t that wipe you all out in one shot?"

Jinx narrowed her eyes as she said it.

And as she pictured it, she suddenly got excited—wide awake in an instant.

Honestly, she really had fantasized about firing Fishbones and launching a Super Mega Death Rocket! straight into Piltover’s symbol. After all, the council building was the tallest structure in the city.

Hearing Jinx say that, Mel’s mouth twitched.

She abruptly realized Jinx had a point.

Midnight emergency meetings... really were a terrible idea. Piltover’s council had held several urgent sessions late at night before, and now that she thought about it—Jinx was right. It actually was dangerous.

"You... you’re just saying that, right?" Councilor Hoskel asked, his belly jutting out as he turned around in alarm to look at Jinx.

"Of course," Jinx nodded beside Logan, looking perfectly well-behaved. "I’m just saying it."

Hoskel let out a breath and turned back—only for the girl’s voice to ring out again behind him.

"But I have thought about doing it for real. Uh... back when I first built the Super Mega Death Rocket! Don’t look at me like that, okay? We’re friends now. Ha. I’m not as crazy as you think~" Seeing Hoskel stare again, Jinx waved her hands at him dismissively.

Logan listened from the side, barely holding back a laugh, but he didn’t say anything—just let Jinx mess around.

Silco, meanwhile, curled his lips into a faint smile. Reality had proven one thing: Zaun’s destructive arsenal already outclassed Piltover’s—especially the toys Jinx had invented.

Missiles with blast radiuses of a hundred meters.

A rapid-fire Hextech-powered machine gun.

And robots that could replace human soldiers on the battlefield.

Zaun truly was rising fast.

Once everyone entered the council chamber, Jayce and Mel sat on one side. Logan and Jinx sat together. Vander and Silco sat together. The other councilors didn’t bother with assigned seats—they sat wherever they pleased.

Mel got straight to the point, her voice heavy. "Regarding the Warmasons: Caitlyn has identified four in total. The earliest one to infiltrate Piltover... joined as far back as thirty years ago—through the Glasc family, who helped establish the United Chamber of Commerce."

"What? Thirty years?!" Hoskel jolted, blurting out, "How could it be that far back? Mel, in my memory the Glasc family has done a great deal for Piltover—this city’s prosperity has their fingerprints all over it. How could they possibly be spies? And what kind of spy lies in wait for thirty years?"

Hoskel thought it was absurd.

Thirty years—long enough for a newborn to become a parent.

Long enough for a middle-aged man to reach the grave.

Long enough for far too much to happen.

If Noxus had sent Warmasons into Piltover thirty years ago, then why hadn’t they acted? For them, conquering Piltover should’ve been easy.

Even if Noxus’s recent war reports sounded ugly—

Rumor had it that the army invading the Freljord was nearly wiped out, and the commanding general had been captured and vanished without a trace.

And their war against Ionia—already dragging on for nearly a decade—had passed its hottest phase. With the Ionian resistance fully organized, Noxus was visibly running short on manpower there.

Piltover’s agents in Shurima had even reported something strange recently: a large portion of the Noxian troops stationed at Shurima’s port had been redeployed toward Ionia... only to turn around and return to Shurima mid-journey.

Still, in Hoskel’s view, even if Noxus had lost some of its former prestige, it remained the strongest nation on the continent of Valoran. The only power that could truly match it was Demacia.

With Noxus’s military strength, crushing Piltover should have been simple.

"That’s actually perfectly normal," Mel replied, taking his question head-on. "Noxus has always been like this—playing the long game. Before they launch a war, Warmasons enter the target nation first as scouts.

"As internal support, Warmasons map the best invasion routes for Noxus. But Noxus doesn’t send Warmasons as a guarantee that they’ll immediately attack that nation."

"Intelligence. Information. Profit after occupation. How to extract the greatest benefit from war—Noxus weighs all of that before acting. As far as I know, Demacia also has Noxian Warmasons."

"But their identities are so well-hidden that even my mother can’t know who they are. And they’ve been embedded in Demacia for a very, very long time. I even suspect they may have entered over a century ago."

Mel spoke steadily. In truth, she hadn’t stayed in Noxus for long—Ambessa had sent her to Piltover early.

After arriving in Piltover, with the Ferros family’s support, plus the influence the Medarda family already maintained in the city, Mel had successfully become a councilor.

And even though she hadn’t lived long in Noxus, Ambessa’s education had drilled Noxus’s operating style into her bones.

"If this were the old days... Piltover might have already belonged to Noxus. But Sovereign Boram Darkwill grew senile in his later years. For the sake of immortality, he issued one bizarre order after another—sending an army to invade a nation one moment, then suddenly dispatching a different force to block that same invasion the next."

"It’s like... it’s like he developed some kind of split personality in old age?" Mel frowned in confusion, then continued, "I even think the Noxian–Ionian war failures were deliberate."

"The reinforcements were sent out and then recalled—like he wanted the Noxians in Ionia to be left to die on their own?" Mel’s voice sank.

She had sensed something was wrong with Boram Darkwill a long time ago.

Decades ago, Noxus’s foreign wars were a string of victories. The only unbreakable bone they couldn’t crack was Demacia. But what had Noxus looked like over the last ten years?

Without the old ferocity of the former Hand of Noxus, Sion, Noxus’s grip weakened year by year. They could no longer withstand Demacia’s counterattacks—vast territories they once seized were pushed back. Then Darkwill ordered Sion exhumed and resurrected through forbidden magic, reviving a hero long dead.

But after a while, Darkwill ordered Sion buried again.

The reason was that once Sion stepped onto the battlefield, he attacked friend and foe alike. Noxian soldiers, terrified by his brutality, lost their will to fight and fled.

The problem was: that didn’t match Darkwill’s earlier style at all. From Ambessa, Mel knew that in his prime Darkwill had been an astute and formidable ruler.

Under his reign, Noxus had reached its peak—half of Runeterra under the empire’s banner. To achieve his goals, he would pay any price. Sealing away a weapon of war like Sion was not something he would have done.

And beyond that—chasing immortality, ignoring the failures in Ionia, refusing to allow battered Noxians to withdraw, and not even sending reinforcements... 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Was that really the same decisive, brilliant Grand General—Darkwill?

"I’m saying all this to make one thing clear," Mel said. "Noxus is in chaos right now. My mother is the perfect example—those at the top recognized Darkwill’s incompetence in his later years. They started fighting behind the scenes for power, and my mother lost that struggle. That’s why she left Noxus."

"That may also be why Warmasons have been embedded in Piltover for so many years, yet Noxus still hasn’t acted."

"But these people are like roaches," Mel said coldly. "If you find one in the room, it means there are thousands more."

Her wording was exaggerated, but everyone understood her meaning:

The Warmasons Caitlyn uncovered today were only the ones who slipped up. There were still more Noxians hiding in Piltover.

"Mel... then can I understand it this way?" Councilor Kiramman asked hesitantly. "From the very beginning, Noxus treated us like sheep penned in a corral?"

"That’s exactly it," Mel nodded to Kiramman.

Silco gave a sharp, humorless laugh. "So Zaun has no traitors, but Piltover is crawling with them—yes?"

"Then am I allowed to suspect that even at this table, there’s a Noxian collaborator?"

"By Councilor Mel’s own logic, if Noxus can slip Warmasons into a closed nation like Demacia, then what about Piltover’s councilors?" Silco’s eyes swept the room. "Can any of you guarantee there isn’t a spy among you?"

Silco’s words made Piltover’s councilors frown. Even Mel fell silent.

Sensing the atmosphere turning sour, Logan stepped in to smooth things over. "Don’t get so tense. Silco’s just talking. Personally, I’m willing to trust everyone here."

Right now, Logan truly couldn’t confirm whether a Noxian collaborator sat among them.

But he could confirm one thing: everyone present really was from the Twin Cities.

Take Councilor Bolbok, for example—he was Piltover-born through and through. Born here, raised here.

Because Janna knew them—she’d witnessed their births. Which meant, at worst, someone might have cooperated with Noxus before. But cooperating in the past didn’t mean they would cooperate in the future.

Toward Zaun, these councilors could be hypocritical. But toward Piltover, their feelings were real.

They grew up in this city. They poured their effort into it. They were the last people who wanted Piltover turned into Noxus’s piggy bank.

Not everyone could accept the dilution of their power the way Logan and Silco could.

And Mel’s description—Darkwill’s late-life behavior like a man issuing one order, then immediately reversing it with another, brain-dead decisions one after another—made Logan think of someone instantly:

LeBlanc.

In Swain’s personal stories, he offended LeBlanc while investigating the Black Rose, got suppressed for it, and the failures in Ionia turned Swain—once towering in military prestige—into a despised prisoner.

Not until he seized demonic power did he turn it all around.

He overthrew Darkwill’s rule and rebuilt Noxus, and only then did Logan—barely—start to feel the slightest improvement in his opinion of the empire.

Because honestly?

What sane person actually likes Noxus?

Their slogans sound cool as hell, like—

"Kings force you to kneel with inherited authority and empty titles. Noxus makes you stand."

"Noxus rewards merit—if you have ability, you have a future."

"Strength above all."

The slogans all go hard. But what’s the reality?

With all those champions, Logan just wanted to ask: why are Darius and Draven the only ones who rose to glory from commoner status?

Where’s everyone else? Why didn’t they break their class ceiling—because they didn’t want to?

Consider this:

Xin Zhao, once a gladiator in Noxus, was driven to Demacia—where he ended up serving the royal family.

Riven devoted herself to Noxus, only to get blown up by her own side. Then she didn’t even seek revenge—she ran off to Ionia to live quietly, working the land... and they still tried to drag her back.

Kayn, a human who could push back a Darkin and fight Rhaast to a standstill, was thrown onto battlefields as disposable shock infantry—when he was only a kid.

When Vladimir lost control, he drained countless Noxian soldiers dry and paid no price, like nothing happened.

Karthus’s backstory talks about Noxian slumfolk dying in their sleep every day, plagues breaking out with no one controlling them—his sister died in one. Is that what a "prosperous" nation looks like?

And Rell—an outright genius—was sacrificed to magical experiments. Think of the other children taken with her. Their talents must have been extraordinary. Is that Noxus’s so-called respect for talent?

And Sion most of all—he served the empire his entire life, racked up endless achievements, and even traded his life to take down the king of Demacia as a heroic final act. Then they dug him up and turned him into a twisted, suffering monster.

That’s how Noxus gives "honor" to a great hero?

In the beginning, Logan really did like Noxus—because those slogans sounded incredible. But once he understood Noxus, he realized he simply couldn’t like a country like that.

He used to curse Demacia for being hypocritical and corrupt—but if he had to choose a place to stand...

he’d still choose Demacia.

And another thing—was Noxus truly strong?

Not really. Noxus fought wars everywhere, sure—but did they actually win?

Oh, so Noxus "intimidated the whole world"...

they just didn’t secure the victories. Is that the idea?

Logan was mostly just venting. He wasn’t arrogant enough to claim Noxus was nothing but flaws.

Because Noxus did lift many oppressed people up, and many small nations and city-states joined them willingly, and talented people found ways to use their gifts. But those changes, in truth, came after Swain took the stage.

As for Noxus right now...

Logan thought it was a pile of garbage. Without Swain coming down like a wrecking ball, Noxus would eventually get played to death by the Black Rose. And if the Black Rose didn’t destroy them first, Mordekaiser returning would smash the so-called empire with a single swing.

So...

Piltover being this close to Noxus, having so much contact, yet never being swallowed whole...

Was the reason...

LeBlanc?

Just imagining the "mastermind" brilliance of that idea made Logan want to laugh.

He remembered seeing a meme on Reddit once—a picture showing all the enemies LeBlanc had accidentally manufactured through her failed schemes: Riven, Annie, Rell, Mordekaiser, Swain, Briar... even Renekton.

A truly legendary genius. The queen of plotting.

If Logan were Swain, he’d be cursing up a storm.

Swain: Darkwill became an idiot later in life. LeBlanc was born one.

Even Kled would have something to say. In the Rift, Logan remembered that when Kled killed LeBlanc, it could trigger a special voice line—something like: That small-town dream? I stomped it flat.

Which just proved LeBlanc really did have that "pretty but dim" vibe.

Don’t ask—blame the writers.

She went to Shurima to cause trouble and somehow managed to get Azir resurrected. Tell Logan that isn’t professional backfiring.

Half of Runeterra’s major disasters—ten events, and at least five have her fingerprints somewhere.

Logan chuckled, shook the stray thoughts out of his head, and looked around the room. "Alright, everyone. Let’s focus on the Twin Cities. It’d be pretty stupid if we failed to drive out the Noxians and ended up tearing each other apart instead."

Silco smiled faintly at that and said nothing more.

Mel spoke again. "Earlier, I wasn’t in favor of openly breaking with Noxus right now. If we tear up our relationship with them, the disadvantages outweigh the benefits—smaller nations would become afraid to trade with us.

"And I was worried that if Noxus really came for us... even though we’re developing rapidly and our weapons advance day by day, we simply don’t have enough people. Between the two cities, at most we can field a thousand fighters—but Noxus can throw tens of thousands of expendable troops at a war."

As she spoke, Mel smiled. "But I’m not as worried anymore."

"Because Noxus has no time to deal with us. At least for the next two years, they won’t have a free hand."

"From what I’ve learned: Darius is missing, fate unknown, in the northern frontier. Swain is trapped in Ionia. Demacia has stretched its war line to Noxus’s border, and the Raedsel Guard is holding the Dauntless Vanguard."

"Right now, this is our best window to grow. If we break with them, wipe out the Warmasons, expel every Noxian from the Twin Cities, and prevent them from probing our internal situation... it’s doable."

"So," Mel said, voice firm, "councilors—let’s vote."

"Those in favor, raise your hands."

Mel raised her hand first.

Every Zaunite councilor raised theirs. Before they ever came to Piltover, they had already unified their stance. They trusted Logan.

And on Piltover’s side, one hand after another rose as well.

——Zaun Calendar, Year 2, February 3.

Zaun and Piltover decided to cease trade with Noxus, refuse Noxians entry into the Twin Cities, accelerate development, and jointly research weaponry.

The Twin Cities’ era—the "Twin Cities Age"—officially began.

TN: Remember the last "little surprise"? Maybe there will be another one tomorrow...

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