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The moment Ryan picked up the Mage piece, the atmosphere on the plain shifted.
In an instant, the bodies of the leopards dissolved into streams of water, cascading to the ground. Only the towering water giants remained, their attacks relentless.
Countless leopards had fallen near the Lesser garrison, leaving behind a field where water pooled high enough to reach their knees. Until now, the water had done little to hinder them.
But when the Mage piece was lifted, the water across the battlefield seemed to come alive. Streams rose like tentacles, lashing toward the Lesser garrison with terrifying speed.
"This is...!"
Granth's expression shifted drastically as he felt the water beneath his feet constricting, binding him in place.
No, it wasn't just him. Every soldier of the garrison was ensnared, their feet tangled in watery tendrils that rendered movement nearly impossible.
"We've fallen into his domain! There's no time to hesitate, Granth!"
Imistan's voice rang out as he charged through the water, his sword slicing through the streams threatening Granth.
Of everyone in the Lesser garrison, Imistan alone still had the strength to move freely.
It wasn't just his imposing physique—it was his experience. He had faced battles like this before.
He had fought alongside Ryan, subduing Shurima and invading Ionia, and he knew his opponent's abilities well.
But even so, Imistan had always been a man of Black Rose and Darkwill.
Though he admired Ryan deeply, after the battle of Placidium, he had known that his choice was made. There was no turning back.
If he didn't act, fear would consume him one day. He refused to let that happen. That's why, for this mission, he hadn't hesitated.
Life or death, this was where it would end.
"Lesser's! Advance, no matter what!"
Imistan roared, stepping into the role of the fallen Sion. With his sword raised high, he stood at the forefront, attempting to block the stone-like fist of a water giant.
But even with his skill, he was no match for the sheer force of the giant.
One powerful blow sent him flying, crashing into several soldiers before skidding to a halt.
The crystalline water crept upward like sentient tentacles, attempting to entangle him.
Granth's face hardened. With a determined stomp, he broke free from the watery restraints. He swung his shield, shattering the water encasing Imistan, and shouted:
"Imistan, get on our shield guards' shoulders! Move quickly!"
Though the water had only risen to their knees, they could feel themselves sinking—gradually, but steadily. The once-solid grassland now felt like a swamp, threatening to swallow them whole.
Yet, for all the danger, one thing gave Granth hope: the sinking was slow.
Their biggest challenge lay in their immobilization.
Granth knew the chances of victory for the Lesser garrison were slim.
But for His Majesty, he was prepared to give everything.
Imistan nodded silently, forcing himself free from the water's grip.
Rising to his feet, he leapt onto Granth's shoulders, cleaving an incoming stream in two with his blade.
His eyes locked on the water giant slaughtering their soldiers. Raising his sword, he bellowed:
"Lesser's defense!"
The shield guards crouched low, presenting their armor-clad backs as makeshift platforms for the warriors behind them.
Those wielding swords and axes didn't hesitate. Fighting against the water's pull, they climbed onto the shield guards' backs, leaping toward the water giant.
"Before our entire army falls, we must at least take that thing down," Granth said gravely, standing firm despite the water tugging him deeper.
With Imistan—still clad in heavy armor—using him as support, Granth sank even faster. He knew his fate was sealed, but he was determined to destroy the target before the swamp consumed him.
"That water giant appeared once on Ionia's battlefield," Imistan said, his voice steady.
"A wind swordsman took it down back then. Its head is the core—the key to destroying it."
With those words, Imistan leapt from Granth's shoulders, sword gleaming as he struck toward the giant's head.
"What should I do?" Granth asked, his voice tense.
"Just create an opportunity for me! I'm fast enough to finish this," Imistan replied sharply.
Without waiting for an answer, he leapt into the fray once more, slicing through five writhing water tentacles in one clean swing.
Ryan's eyes remained fixed on the chessboard before him on a distant mountaintop.
He observed the battlefield below with a calm, calculating expression.
After a moment, he let out a quiet sigh.
"Does he remind you of your past self?" LeBlanc's voice carried a playful lilt as she leaned back, watching the unfolding chaos with interest.
Imistan had once been one of Ryan's most promising subordinates.
Now, they stood on opposing sides of the battlefield, their swords drawn against each other.
The irony wasn't lost on her—it was a scene she found particularly intriguing.
Ryan shook his head and replied calmly, "No. He's the same as he's always been—adept at trading the lives of his comrades for victory."
LeBlanc's crimson lips curled into a sly smile.
"In Noxus, weak sacrifices in exchange for maximum results are worth boasting about."
"It's undeniable," Ryan admitted.
"It's how he's won so many battles. But that's not how a true Noxian general should operate. If he really wanted to maximize their chances, why isn't he the one standing against the giants himself? His strength would make the success rate far higher."
Ryan's tone remained cold, his eyes never leaving the chessboard.
"The idea is sound, but his methods lack honor. Not every soldier serves in the garrison. Sacrificing his men without their knowledge is cowardly, not strategic."
LeBlanc raised an eyebrow but said nothing, sensing the disdain in Ryan's voice.
Ryan's thoughts turned briefly to the past.
He remembered how Imistan had risen to his current position, not through bravery or skill, but by sacrificing an entire team—a team Ryan had once seen great promise in.
That team had followed orders to their deaths, unaware their comrade had abandoned them to achieve his own promotion.
Ryan thought that for the sake of a general like Imistan, soldiers like those had suffered a fate they didn't deserve.
Noxus needed victories, but it wasn't so desperate that it needed to win in such dishonorable ways.
Imistan had won battles but lost something far more important—the trust and respect of his men.
Perhaps the Lesser garrison—a unit known for unwavering obedience to military orders—was a fitting place for someone like Imistan.
Ryan's expression remained impassive as he continued to study the chessboard, the pieces reflecting the clear advantage he now held.
Down on the battlefield, the garrison charged fearlessly toward the water giant.
They used the bodies of their fallen comrades as platforms, leaping closer to their target in an effort to divert its attention.
In the midst of the chaos, Imistan remained hidden, biding his time for a decisive, fatal strike.
"You could kill him with a single blow," LeBlanc remarked suddenly, her tone light yet pointed.
"I could," Ryan replied, his voice devoid of emotion.
"With a wave of my hand, they would be obliterated. But I don't want to do that. Every soldier's sacrifice should have meaning. They've laid down their lives to pave a path for their comrades—I won't block that path."
LeBlanc, ever the enigma, sipped her tea, though her expression showed a hint of disbelief. She sat upright in her chair, letting out a small sigh.
"It's just delaying the inevitable. With your magic, you could summon hundreds of giants like that."
Ryan remained seated on the stone bench, the Mage piece in his hand turning idly between his fingers.
"I've always respected them. They don't fear death. They crave glory. They represent the finest warriors of the empire."
LeBlanc smirked. "Lesser garrison is made up of elite soldiers pulled from the best chapters. Each of them could take on a hundred foes."
"Exactly," Ryan said, his tone unwavering.
"And because of that, they deserve a fitting end. The best destiny for warriors like them is to die gloriously, fighting against their enemy."
He watched the water giant continue its rampage. Its stone fists swung wildly, creating powerful gusts of wind with each strike.
Every blow claimed the life of another garrison soldier.
The water surrounding the giant had been stained a deep crimson with their blood, yet the soldiers pressed forward, undeterred.
They stepped on the corpses of their fallen comrades, who floated lifeless in the water, using them as platforms to gain footing.
Soon, they, too, would meet the same fate, becoming the next stepping stone for their comrades.
"Roar!"
The water giant let out an ear-splitting bellow.
Encircled by soldiers, it began to slow.
A single sword or axe couldn't harm it, but dozens—hundreds—of weapons striking in unison made even this massive creature falter.
Imistan stood poised, watching for his moment.
"Imistan!!"
The cry rang out from the ranks, filled with desperation and hope.