Ornn, the Chosen One, a treasure from ancient times!

Chapter 129 Alchemy Flame

It has been half a month since Herren arrived in Omicaiaran. During this time, the Noxians have made several attempts to probe Omicaiaran.

In these situations, Heron doesn't usually show up; it's usually Xayah, Rakan, Fiora, or Olaf who come out with their people to "greet" him. However, in most cases, they don't need to take action.

Xiaoju will solve everything.

Everyone now knows that the giant stone statue has a very cute name.

It also faithfully fulfills its mission of protecting Omicaiaran—Ivern no longer kills and has almost lost its aggression, but that doesn't mean Daisy won't.

The Noxians were unable to break through Daisy's defenses, retreating after each brief attempt.

However, the siege continued; the Noxians could neither get in nor retreat, clearly waiting for something.

Two weeks later, a fully armed army finally arrived in Omikayaran.

This unit has a unique appearance. Unlike other Noxians, their armor is not heavy, but it covers the entire body, even their faces.

This is the iron army from Shurima—its robust protection allows them to better withstand the wind, sand, and scorching sun.

When the troops arrived, all the Noxian generals were summoned together, and they met their new superior.

Ambesa Middarda, the great warlord of the empire and the matriarch of the Middarda family, was hailed as the "Iron-Blooded Wolf Mother."

She simply sat in the open tent, legs spread wide, leaning back on her throne. The Noxian officers who arrived one after the other were like gentle kittens, not daring to speak loudly.

Everyone knows that this Ambeza is His Majesty Darkwell's favorite general, and in addition, her reputation is also widely known.

Once all the officers, numbering over a thousand, had arrived, Ambeza briefly learned about the situation in Omicaiaran from the battle report, and finally spoke in a deep voice.

"Just because of this? A stone statue? You've stopped making progress?"

Anbesa's voice was strong and powerful, with a hint of hoarseness and the vicissitudes of a seasoned warrior, exuding an intimidating aura.

The crowd fell silent, not daring to utter a sound, except for a few bold individuals who dared to defend themselves.

"That statue is clearly a magical creation—our weapons can't harm it, and the mage party is all in Presidium—"

""

"From what you're saying, we should improve the treatment of mages—and you bunch of good-for-nothings should all be executed!"

"6

""

The officers looked at each other, not daring to utter a sound.

"I heard—there are also Freljordians?"

"Yes, it's the Winter's Claw tribe. Their leader has brought people here—claiming to protect the sacred land of the spirits of nature."

"Hehe, that sounds grand, but it's a bit presumptuous of you."

Ambeza scoffed, a hint of ruthlessness flashing in her eyes.

She hates the Freljords —

The reason is simple: on her birthday last year, her daughter, who was staying in Piltover, deliberately hid a birthday gift for Ambesa in the shipment sent to the Middarda family.

Perhaps it was to give Ambissa a surprise—Ambissa only found out about it later. The gift wasn't particularly valuable; it was just some oddities and trinkets that her silly daughter had collected from Piltover.

Music boxes, singing clocks—Ambissa had never been interested in these things. She wasn't against technology, but she disliked using it for pleasure rather than for war.

In her view, her daughter had been corrupted by these strange and ingenious skills.

Ambissa felt that even if these gifts were delivered, she would probably sink them to the bottom of the sea and throw them away. Even in death, she would not accept her daughter's weak act of kindness.

But she didn't receive it—her things were stolen in Freljord.

She killed all the soldiers who escaped and sent men to investigate the matter, but the desolate land of Freljord was sparsely populated and it was difficult to find any clues. She had no idea who did it.

Therefore, unable to find a target for her resentment, Ambissa decided to harbor hatred for the entire Freljord.

Since we're enemies meeting, there's no need to hold back.

"Rectus! Bring us our little gadget!"

The burly man behind Ambissa lowered his head slightly, then walked to the back and took out a sample from a small box.

A glass container made in Piltover, containing a liquid that resembles magma.

He held it with extreme care, and this cautious manner, displayed by a burly man who was over two meters tall, looked somewhat comical.

He gently placed the container on the table.

"Tomorrow, prepare to launch the attack—today, let's use this thing to pave the way."

"Excuse me—what is this?"

"A small trinket, a specialty of Zu'an."

Ambissa smiled slightly; in her opinion, the Zaunites were more to her liking than Mrs. Piltover.

The people of Zaun are never obsessed with pleasure. Whenever they have a new invention or breakthrough, they always use it in weapons. They are obsessed with researching new technologies that take the lives of their fellow human beings.

The new weapon in her hand, from an alchemist, suited Ambissa perfectly—efficient, swift, and cruel enough.

But Rectus had some concerns.

"Has the time come for us to use this weapon? This is the sacred ground of Ionia—wouldn't this ruin what we want?"

Ambeza's troops were the ones who knew best the true purpose of this war.

However, Ambesa dismissed these concerns.

"Are we supposed to talk to them nicely and make deals with them? Forget it. If we don't make them feel pain, they'll never know fear—"

Ambeza waved her hand and gave the order.

"Go."

"Although I don't want to hurt your feelings, to be honest—you're a little stupid."

Ivern, the Emerald God, looked at Harren, who was sitting cross-legged in front of him, and couldn't help but laugh as he spoke.

For a full two weeks, Herren's magical skills, if not dramatically improved, could be said to have made no progress at all.

He's like an idiot who owns millions in assets. Despite being quite wealthy, he can't even do basic math, let alone know how to spend his money.

However, Ivern was just joking; he eventually came to a conclusion.

Heron is not someone who can master magic through spells.

This is very common. The mastery of magic is magical. Some people are born with it, some can master it through practice, and some need spells to assist them.

But Herren is special; no matter what method is used, it is useless against him. The magic within him seems to have its own operating logic.

"It seems I'll have to think of another way."

Herren sighed. He had been meditating for so long that he was almost developing hemorrhoids, but in the end, it was all for nothing.

"By the way, do you smell anything strange?"

"Um?

'

Hearing Herren's reminder, Ivern raised his head and looked towards the horizon.

There was indeed a faint, foul odor in the air, like sulfur.

Looking into the distance, one can vaguely see clumps of green "mist" spreading with the wind towards the Omikayaran jungle.

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