Noxus Glory

Chapter 536 Crimson Slaughter, Black Rose Chaos

Immortal Fortress.

The heart of the Noxian Empire's power, a formidable fortress forged from steel and blood.

In the epic of the empire's millennia-long expansion, this ultimate crucible of power extends silently amidst bloody wars.

The resulting outer fortresses, like the sharpest claws of a giant beast, firmly guarded the path to the core of power.

To the southeast of the fortress lies the steel fortress that connects to Blood Cliff.

The golden midday sun pierced through the clouds and shone upon the massive, open city gate.

The rumble of carriages and horses, the shouts of merchants, the laughter of soldiers, and the playful antics of children blended together, creating a cacophony of voices that bordered on deafening.

The faces of the vast majority of Noxians bear a deep sense of peace and hope.

This reflects both satisfaction with current life and confidence in the future of this land.

Such prosperity was something rarely seen during the dark years of Darkwell's rule.

At that time, Noxus was a place where everyone was on edge, and the streets and alleys were filled with tense nerves and oppressive silence.

In contrast, the peaceful life we ​​enjoy today is a testament to President Swain's iron-fisted rule and exceptional governing abilities.

He rebuilt order with iron and fire, stabilized the empire which had been in turmoil due to Darkwell's rampant expansion at the end of the reign, and rekindled the faith in the hearts of the Noxians.

Behind the scenes, unseen by ordinary people, are the heroes of the Noxian Empire and the brave soldiers who have sacrificed themselves for this cause.

Inside the steel fortress.

Negative impacts from the Northern War have already created a situation where the exterior appears relaxed but the interior remains tense.

A faint, chilling atmosphere permeated the air, creating a stark contrast with the hustle and bustle outside.

Especially in the area near Knoxtora, the atmosphere is even more desolate, as if even the air has solidified into cold steel.

The Noxian soldiers guarding this area were fully armed; their steel armor gleamed coldly in the dim light, and their eyes beneath their helmets were sharp as eagles, vigilantly scanning every corner.

Even his breathing was deliberately slowed down, and all the muscles in his body were tense like a fully drawn bowstring, ready to deal with any sudden crisis.

Buzz! Buzz!

Suddenly, a dark black energy aftershock appeared, sweeping across the surroundings like a gentle breeze.

The obsidian used to forge [Knoxtorra] slowly emitted a dark, deep purple glow as energy surged within it.

Amidst the shifting light and shadow, ripples spread across the transparent vortex at the center, revealing a blurry figure returning to the fortress from the depths of the vortex.

Not far away, upon seeing the buzzing sound emanating from [Noxtora], the guard quickly suppressed all superfluous expressions on his face, leaving only professional rigor and coldness, and strode towards the center of the vortex.

At the same time, he quickly raised his right hand and waved it at the soldiers around him, his eyes sharp and determined.

This is a signal indicating to the surrounding Noxian Imperial soldiers to enter combat readiness.

Some time ago, the secret order from the Leiser Garrison had already reached him, and the content was very simple.

Recently, anyone who uses [Noxtora] to return to the Immortal Fortress, regardless of their status, is required to leave detailed information.

As the fortress's duty officer, although he didn't quite understand the deeper meaning, the Raiser Garrison was directly under Commander Swain, so he had to take it seriously and carry it out to the best of his ability.

The Noxian soldiers guarding the position understood immediately, gripping their spears and swords tightly, the crisp sound of their armor clashing mingling with the chilling atmosphere.

Just then, the ripples in the vortex shattered silently.

A middle-aged nobleman, dressed in a crimson robe and with long, flowing hair as red as blood, stepped out.

Under the obsidian's dim glow, the crimson hue resembled a burning flame, exuding an incomparably eerie beauty.

Gazing at the familiar fortress scene before him, the familiar steel armor and soldiers, a smile slowly crept onto the middle-aged nobleman's lips.

The smile was faint, yet it carried a chilling coldness and a greedy thirst for blood.

He slightly raised his right hand, the movement as gentle as if he were caressing a fragile treasure, his fingertips tracing a blood-red trail like rain and mist as they brushed across the air.

Upon seeing this, the fortress officer approaching from the opposite direction suddenly froze, intending to retreat while signaling the surrounding soldiers to attack the crimson figure directly.

But it was all too late!

Bang!

A low, cracking sound broke the somber atmosphere of the [Noxtora] region.

The guard's head shattered without warning.

Crimson blood mixed with white brain matter gushed out like a fountain, drawing a tragic yet terrifying arc in the sunlight.

Then, a chilling scene unfolded.

The crimson blood seemed to be drawn, like wine falling into a cup, slowly gathering towards the middle-aged nobleman's lips.

Blood slowly trickled down his lips, soaking his clothes, but he didn't care at all. Instead, he closed his eyes, a look of extreme enjoyment on his face, as if he were savoring the most delicious food in the world.

"Hahaha, delicious, truly delicious!"

The middle-aged nobleman let out a hearty laugh, his pupils flashing with a cruel, scarlet light.

Compared to the food on overseas islands, these carefully raised animals are the real delicacy.

He stuck out his tongue and gently licked the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, his eyes filled with greed and hunger.

"Not enough, not enough!"

"This amount of blood is not enough to fill my body."

He slowly raised his eyes and looked at the Noxian soldiers charging in formation not far away, his gaze growing increasingly cold.

The blood-stained fingers moved slightly again, gracefully and casually, as if plucking the strings of a musical instrument.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

In an instant, a heart-stopping explosion rang out from the charging army, as Noxian soldiers clad in armor burst open from the inside out.

The steel armor shattered into countless tiny, sharp fragments, tearing through the air with a sharp whistling sound.

Large pieces of limb remains were scattered all over the ground, with arms, heads, and torsos piled up haphazardly.

Crimson blood gushed out, like a gentle rain, flowing down the cracks in the ground.

In a short while, it formed a winding river of blood on the ground, emitting a pungent, nauseating smell.

The middle-aged nobleman stood amidst the rain of blood, his figure moving gracefully. His crimson robe, reflected in the blood river, resembled a blooming blood-red demonic flower, evil and deadly. As he danced, the blood-red hue permeating the air slowly merged into his body.

His once wrinkled face regained its luster, and his slightly weathered appearance became increasingly youthful, while his eyes began to grow increasingly bloodshot and crazed.

A moment later, on the blood-stained ground, the middle-aged nobleman had transformed into a handsome young nobleman with an eerie air.

He casually fiddled with his robe, brushing away the bloodstains and bits of flesh from the fabric, a lazy yet cruel smile playing on his lips as he listened intently to the growing alarm bells around him.

Clang—! Clang clang clang—!

This is the signal for martial law to be declared at the steel fortress.

The bell tolled sharply and shrilly, shattering the fortress's original order and clamor.

Looking down from the sky, one could see countless fully armed Noxian soldiers rushing towards the area where [Noxtorra] was located, like long, galloping dragons.

The sounds of footsteps, the clanging of armor, and the roars of officers mingled together, forming a torrent of steel that shook the very earth.

"Delicious food, I can't wait! Come into my body!"

As Vladimir gazed at the surging tide of steel before him, he could no longer suppress the murderous urge within him.

What makes these domesticated creatures dare to raise their weapons against the great Crimson Harvester?

Vladimir charged forward without restraint, a crimson aura swirling around him, dancing up and down, as if trying to completely break free from his restraints.

Blood Tide!

next moment!

The carnage begins!

The surrounding crimson aura burst forth with dazzling light, like a surging tide, instantly sweeping towards the steel array.

Before the Noxian Empire soldiers who had gathered in front of them could react, their vision went dark and they were engulfed by a crimson wave.

Like sand thrown into boiling acid, their bodies rapidly dissolved, their flesh and souls swallowed by the tide, becoming nourishment for Vladimir's power.

There was no room for resistance, no possibility of struggle.

Faced with absolute power, these well-trained imperial soldiers were like lambs to the slaughter, destined to become sacrifices to this bloody feast.

The crimson tide grew increasingly restless and turbulent, constantly expanding itself until it gradually transformed into a boundless crimson ocean, nearly engulfing the steel fortress.

Those ordinary people who were originally staying in the fortress, whether they were merchants, children, the elderly, or women, were all inevitably caught up in this catastrophe.

They screamed and cried out, but to no avail. They could only watch helplessly as they were swallowed by the crimson tide, their bodies rapidly assimilated until they became part of the crimson ocean.

The stench of blood within the steel fortress grew stronger, mingling with the rusty smell of armor and the putrid stench of corpses.

Vladimir hovered in mid-air, his rampant and evil laughter echoing in the blood-red ocean, enjoying this rare bloody feast.

As the laughter subsided, he felt the immense crimson energy within him, gazed at the distant immortal fortress, and his bloodshot eyes were filled with the thrill of revenge.

"Ready to die, Swain!"

The core area of ​​the Immortal Fortress.

The magnificent buildings rising from the ground resemble the sharp teeth of a steel behemoth, silently gnawing at the sky.

The blazing sun, high in the clear sky, slanted through the narrow windows of the audience hall, casting beams of light.

Jericho Swain, the Grand Commander of the Noxian Empire, leaned silently against a stone seat carved from obsidian.

After a short while, he reached out and gently rubbed his temples, a hint of worry flashing in the depths of his eyes.

He had just finished a long and difficult meeting.

Several imperial generals who rushed back from Shurima brought not good news, but a series of heavy messages.

"The returning Darkin, the reborn Sun Empire, and the resurrected ancient sorcerers."

"These sudden powers are causing the situation on the continent of Shurima to spiral out of control."

Although the continent of Shurima had already suffered the Void Calamity after the War of Icathia, its landscape had changed drastically, turning into a desolate and dangerous desert.

But beneath this ancient land lie precious resources that the empire covets.

For example, there are many unexplored gold and silver mines, as well as rare mineral veins that the Empire desperately needs. This is why the Empire sends expeditionary forces to seize power in a hostile land and firmly control many ports on the continent of Shurima.

Only by controlling these transportation hubs can we truly control most of the wealth flowing from the continent of Shurima.

However, the current chaotic situation on the continent of Shurima has stretched the Empire's resources thin, making it unable to fully cover all controlled areas.

As Swain's thoughts drifted, immersed in the situation on the continent of Shurima.

Clang—! Clang clang clang—!

The urgent tolling of the bell suddenly rang out, its mournful tone echoing throughout the fortress.

Swain frowned, immediately stood up, left the audience hall, and went to the huge open platform outside to gaze into the distance.

At the edge of the gloomy sky, a dark red halo stained the clouds, carrying a suffocating evil, and surged wildly toward the Immortal Fortress.

"This power...!"

Swain's expression turned solemn, and the dormant demonic power within him began to stir slightly, a sense of danger creeping into his heart.

"It's blood magic!"

He recognized the unique power within the dark red blood cloud.

In the Noxian Empire, those who could wield blood magic to such an extent, and dare to so recklessly unleash carnage...

Only Vladimir the Scarlet Reaper!

The leader of the Crimson Society, who had suddenly disappeared and left in a sorry state, is making a comeback.

"Is there any basis for it?"

Swain's lips moved silently.

He did not panic or act rashly because of Vladimir's appearance.

Now that things have come to this, Vladimir must have recovered most of his strength, otherwise he wouldn't have launched such a large-scale attack.

Moreover, he could clearly sense the vengeance and slaughter contained within the dark red blood cloud, which was almost solidifying into reality.

Although everything Vladimir had was destroyed on the planet Hoji.

However, the Crimson Society, painstakingly built and shrouded in the shadow of the empire, was besieged and destroyed by the Noxian Empire.

However, it was an order personally given by Swain.

He was the one who secretly arranged for the Leiser Guard Legion to besiege the Crimson Society, trying to find his whereabouts through Vladimir's followers.

The goal is to completely eradicate this blood-red blemish that has accompanied the empire like a malignant tumor clinging to its bones.

It now appears that the plan has failed and has thoroughly angered the wounded ancient being.

Swain squinted.

His thinking never stops at the surface level.

Although the attack on Vladimir is causing unrest, there is definitely someone plotting behind the scenes.

Who exactly is paving the way for Vladimir's return? And who is pushing things along at this opportune moment?

"The Black Rose?" Swain murmured.

"Or are they the remnants of the old aristocracy who have always secretly opposed his reforms, his iron fist, and his centralized power?"

Just as Swain was pondering, the Immortal Fortress, now revived by the resounding bells, descended into unprecedented chaos.

It wasn't just the dark red blood cloud that was attacking from outside.

Inside the fortress, in the dark and damp underground alleys, among the crowded and noisy commoners' houses, and in the well-located and heavily guarded noble quarters.

Suddenly, towering flames appeared, and thick black smoke billowed up, darkening the sky.

Accompanying this were the sounds of fierce fighting that pierced through the clouds and shattered rocks, along with shouts and screams.

At some point, legionary soldiers clad in black armor began appearing throughout the fortress.

They were organized and purposeful, like poisoned daggers that had been buried long ago, rushing towards key positions inside the fortress.

Imperial soldiers who tried to stop them along the way were all slaughtered by these well-equipped and clearly prepared black-armored soldiers.

As they charged forward, these black-armored soldiers slaughtered indiscriminately, setting fire to buildings in the streets and causing further chaos.

Even within the palace complex at Swain's feet, the sounds of clanging metal and fighting could be heard.

Although the situation quickly calmed down, this was enough to illustrate the point.

There are serious problems within the empire.

Bang!

The doors to the audience hall opened, and a centurion of the Leiser garrison, clad in steel armor and a dark purple cloak, strode in.

His armor still bore traces of undried blood and the dust of battle, and his entire body exuded a strong stench of blood and killing intent.

The centurion of the Leather Garrison looked around and visibly relaxed when he saw Swain's figure.

He walked slowly behind Swain, knelt down on one knee without hesitation, bowed his head in greeting, and his voice sounded a little hoarse because of the urgency.

"Your Majesty, the Immortal Fortress has been attacked and the situation is critical. Please move to a safe place immediately."

Swain did not turn around.

His gaze, still deep and penetrating, fell upon the figures below, darting and fighting amidst the streets and flames, and upon the rose patterns etched on the black armor.

"I finally couldn't hold back anymore!"

Swain looked up at the dark red blood cloud that was getting closer and closer in the distance, and a playful smile gradually appeared on his lips.

"I hope my preparations will surprise you."

He coldly looked down at the city below, which was engulfed in flames and carnage due to the sudden attack, watching the Black Rose soldiers systematically destroy and advance.

I had a vague, inexplicable sense of familiarity with everything in front of me.

"That's very interesting!"

"Is this a tribute to the one-night coup I staged to oust Bron Darkwell?"

Swain gently extended his devilish left hand, which had been hidden under his clothes, and stroked the raven that had somehow landed on the railing, whispering softly.

"Will you grant me death in my own way?"

He stopped paying attention to the escalating chaos and ignored the centurions of the Leiser garrison behind him who were anxiously awaiting his order to evacuate.

He simply turned around, stepped out of the audience hall, and walked steadily and firmly down the long and solemn stone steps of the triumphal staircase.

This is not an escape.

Instead, they went to the heart of the chaos that had caused it all.

As Swain walked away, behind him, the black raven that had been resting in the palace opened their scarlet eyes.

They silently watched their owner's departing figure.

Then, it was as if I had received some kind of invisible command.

All that could be seen were patches of pitch-black clouds, fluttering out from every corner of the palace.

They sniffed the increasingly strong smell of blood and gunpowder in the air, letting out excited and bloodthirsty shrieks, like black arrows released from a bow, rushing towards the source of chaos within the Immortal Fortress.

A rose that has lost patience represents withering and death.