Void Beetle Evolution Guide

"Does this song sound familiar? Let me introduce you to this friend. Speaking of which, he used to be one of your Noxians." Thresh raised the Soul Lamp and shook it. A ghostly flame flew out from it and landed on the ground, revealing a tall human figure.

"Why are you weeping?" the figure asked. "I have brought you the holy gift of death."

The singer was a burly man with broad shoulders, dressed in a tattered coat, like an ancient priest, but his shoulders and withered skull were armed like a warrior.

A book was chained to his waist, and he held a long cane in his hand, the grip of which was densely engraved with counting symbols. The tip of the cane gleamed with an eerie light, and will-o'-the-wisps burned in his other hand, like fallen stars.

The figure floated steadily toward LeBlanc, his robes remaining undisturbed, as if he didn't need to lift a foot; the black mist would carry him forward on its own.

“I weep for the dead, but you are the ones who deserve to die, Karthus!” LeBlanc said, waving her wand and unleashing a spell that struck the gaping, terrifying vengeful spirit, sending it flying back.

When the song started playing, LeBlanc was instantly reminded of her memories.

She discovered she recognized him: a slum-born death recorder, renowned yet who one day stole all the money from the temple vault and vanished without a trace.

"Kalthas, how does it feel to be back home?" Thresh chuckled sinisterly from behind.

"The people here don't seem to welcome me." Karthus pressed his sharp nails against his rough cane, his voice ethereal, a mixture of mockery and worry.

He was born in a slum on the outskirts of Noxus's capital. His mother died in childbirth, leaving his father to raise him and his three older sisters alone. In the slums, death was commonplace, so Karthus learned to appreciate weeping and mourning from a very young age.

Then a plague broke out in the slums, and Karthus's sisters contracted it and died one by one. He offered them care and comfort in their final moments, but in the fading light in his loved ones' eyes, Karthus seemed to feel a divine calling—he wanted to understand the afterlife and yearned to explore the mysteries of eternal existence.

Karthus then joined the Kindred Order and became a gravedigger, later rising to the rank of corpse collector, where he would push his bone cart through the streets of Noxus every day to collect corpses.

Carlsus's Requiems are renowned; his eulogies are poignant and beautiful, depicting the beauty of death and praying that the afterlife is a desirable sanctuary. Many grieving relatives find solace in his lamentations and peace in his elegiac songs.

Later, he became a death recorder. He stayed in the temple to care for the sick, provide them with end-of-life care, and greet death with the deceased when it came to him.

Calthus had witnessed too much death in his life, and he gained wisdom from it, until he found that he could no longer learn anything from the living. So he thought of letting the dead answer his questions.

And so, Karthus embarked on his journey to the Shadow Isles.

Upon arriving on the island, ancient curses ravaged his body and soul, but his desire to transcend death was so intense that even the black mist could not completely defeat him. Instead, the black mist reshaped him, and Karthus was reborn on the island's mudflats as a bodyless ghost.

At that moment, Karthus felt as if he had found a treasure. A sense of righteous fervor filled Karthus, and he felt it was his duty to share the blessing of immortality he had received at the crossroads of life and death with the other living, to free them from those trivial worldly worries.

“Death is not terrible, Ms. LeBlanc, I have come for you.” The Death Singer held his cane flat and bowed respectfully, saying, “There is no need to refuse, I have come to grant you freedom.”

“Freedom…” LeBlanc swallowed.

Freedom! What an alluring word... You Mei, you me, Lin want to be free, Lin is here, is there...?

"Whether one was a nobleman or a commoner, a slave owner or a prisoner in life, all one's deeds in life are settled in one fell swoop after death, equally for all. Ms. LeBlanc, I know you have suffered the pain of slavery, but I can help you burn away that pain."

Karthus opened his hands, his palms burning with will-o'-the-wisps.

In the blink of an eye, the word "freedom" has turned into "death".

LeBlanc scoffed, "Has my disguise become so sophisticated that I can even fool the dead? Shouldn't you verify the recipient's identity before sending a gift?"

Her words startled Karthus, who stared at LeBlanc for a long time before noticing the anomaly.

"No, something's not right. You... you're actually dead!"

"Hmph. That tyrant's enslavement doesn't care whether you live or die. You should accept this great gift yourself!" LeBlanc sneered as she thrust out her staff, firing several magic seals in succession. The seals collided with each other, unleashing a powerful burst of energy that sent Karthus flying.

Karthus, sprawled on the ground, flew into a rage, his pointed hat askew, a far cry from his previous composure and elegance. But this anger wasn't directed at LeBlanc; instead, he turned and glared at Thresh, as if questioning why the other hadn't explained himself clearly.

"Don't look at me like that, Karthus. You just need to hold that woman off. When I open the Dark Portal, you can spread the gospel all over the world."

Thresh spoke nonchalantly, seemingly having reached some kind of agreement with Karthus. Upon hearing this, Karthus immediately suppressed his anger and turned his gaze back to LeBlanc.

“I’m sorry, madam, but I don’t think you have a deep enough understanding of death.” Karthus floated up again, his cane emitting a pale, weak light that illuminated LeBlanc’s pale face.

The books at his waist floated to his hands, flipping rapidly, and countless souls once again emerged from his fanged mouth along with the song. Walls of pain blocked LeBlanc's retreat, while the songs materialized into blasphemous halos, enveloping the walled space. The songs also carried the chilling tolling of death knells, which exploded like desolate bombs at LeBlanc's feet.

Chapter 759 The Three Gather

Karthus, being a latecomer, was well aware that he and Thresh were not on the same path.

Although they are both undead, both messengers of the Night of the Dead, he sings a poignant melody composed of death, bestowing upon the world the beauty of oblivion through a requiem; while Thresh delays death with various forms of torment, ultimately wasting it by turning it into a sharp, hoarse noise.

Normally, they keep to themselves, but now that the Shadow Isles are free of the black fog, even the undead will choose to unite and gather all forces that can be united in order to find a new place to live.

Black mist surged from beneath Karthus's loose black robes, permeating the space sealed by the Wall of Pain. The Death Singer's Requiem materialized into a tangible halo of death, and desolate power exploded repeatedly beneath his feet.

LeBlanc constantly shifted and changed shape, turning into shadow to avoid the explosions, but she couldn't escape the omnipresent singing. The red-glowing thorny chains under her control sealed Karthus's mouth, but were ignited by the latter's pale flames on his staff.

The ghost floated into the air and stood there, unleashing its power with a powerful song. Black mist swirled beneath its feet, while the light from its cane illuminated LeBlanc's face.

The wraith at the tip of the cane flickered, and many faces emerged from the mist. These faces were LeBlanc's targets or victims, and their soul forms were clearly outlined in the light of the cane's flame. Among them were many people the Wild Hunt knew.

They were once betrayed by LeBlanc, dying in agony or filled with hatred. But now their faces are serene, as if they have found peace in the afterlife, and everyone has gotten what they wanted.

They lured LeBlanc in this way, and as Karthus began to sing a requiem, the dirge turned into a grand chorus, growing ever more powerful and its message ever clearer, enticing LeBlanc to join them.

“Death is not terrible, Ms. LeBlanc,” Karthus said. “Death will free you from all suffering; it will elevate your vision beyond the mundane, allowing you to see the glory of eternal life. Embrace the beauty and miracle of death. Give up your life; you don’t need it…”

Karthus's eulogy was poignant and beautiful, so moving that it brought tears to LeBlanc's eyes, revealing the beauty of death. Had she not already died, she might have truly joined him in order to receive the blessing of death.

“Of course I know. But what’s worse than death is eternal enslavement!” Several LeBlancs spoke in unison, then joined forces to break through the wall of pain.

Just as LeBlanc was about to escape, a beam of ghostly fire shot from behind, igniting her fragile body. Karthus reached out, and the flames in his hand began to grow larger, gradually enveloping her.

LeBlanc screamed as the ghostly fire scorched her soul, burning through her bones and blood. The ghostly fire burned through her skin, and her soul slowly flowed out like a stream. She desperately channeled her magic to resist this flame that could tear her body and soul apart.

"Why not set your soul free?" Karthus said with dissatisfaction, his sharp fingernails, which were about to carve a mark on his cane, suddenly froze.

"Let the ghostly fire burn your skin to ashes," Karthus sang again. "You will feel no pain, no fear, no desire to feel anything, only the pursuit of the truth I am about to show you. Miracles and grandeur await you; tell me, why do you not yearn for this ecstasy?"

LeBlanc, her bones eroded and flesh consuming her flesh, let out a piercing scream amidst the burning flames. This scream was like a jarring noise added to a harmonious chorus, severely disrupting Karthus's mood for chanting.

Thresh, carrying a lantern, arrived at the well. He, who usually enjoyed tormenting others, had no interest in appreciating LeBlanc's screams at this moment.

His gaze fell upon the massive, helmetless suit of armor in the well, growing feverish and intense. When he lit the lantern again, a helmet forged from steel appeared in his hand, eerie green flames spewing from its gaps, forming a raging face.

Now, he only needs to throw the helmet into the well to summon the Lord of the Underworld.

Thresh eagerly threw his helmet into the Soul Well. Miasma rose from the vortex of the underworld as he watched the helmet fall, his heart pounding with unprecedented excitement.

However, at that critical moment, the omnipresent black chains suddenly emerged from the shadows of the well wall, firmly locking the helmet below the well opening and above the armor.

"Karczas, what are you doing?!" Karthus's incompetence ruined Thresh's efforts. With a bang, he slammed his fist against the well's edge and glared fiercely at LeBlanc.

All her imprisoned clones vanished into black shadows, and then a pale woman emerged from the darkness, unharmed and spotless. It was unclear whether she was a clone or an illusion, but they had certainly been tricked.

Thresh swung his scythe, trying to cut the chains. Just then, a giant claw attacked from behind, grabbing him and pulling him away from the well.

Don't get me wrong, this isn't the demonic claw summoned by the Wild Hunt, but a crimson bird claw made of demonic energy. It gripped Thresh, its tightening claws making it difficult for the latter to break free.

"Noxus never asks about origins. But guests of the Shadow Isles, you are not welcome here."

A weathered yet powerful voice interrupted Karthus's requiem. Everyone looked in the direction of the voice and saw several figures approaching the Great Well of Souls from the darkness around the corner.

The newcomer was none other than Jericho Swain, the renowned strategist and the new Grand Commander of Noxus. He wore heavy, black armor over a coat, his hands clasped behind his back, concealed beneath. His full head of white hair was meticulously combed back, and his perpetually furrowed brow, along with his aquiline nose, gave him a sharply defined, stern appearance. A three-eyed raven perched on his shoulder, its left and right sides adorned with three crimson eyes, the pupils forming an eerie cross shape.

He gazed down at the colossal well of souls, his eagle eyes fixed intently. His stare was meaningful, first pressing down on LeBlanc, then on Thresh, who couldn't help but stare intently at his left arm beneath his coat, at the faintly visible demonic hand. "You Mei, you have time, you Lin, are you here yet..."

Besides the heavily armored Trefalli elite guard, Swain was followed by two people the Wild Hunt knew. One of them was Darius, the legendary Hand of Noxus, leader of the elite Trefalli legion, and commander of the entire empire's army.

He was the embodiment of force, and from then on, the three members of the Trifary Council were united. Strategy, force, and cunning... the significance of this concept was that a single person might bring about the destruction of Noxus due to incompetence, madness, or corruption, but with three people, there would always be two who could suppress an out-of-control individual.

Chapter 760 Riven is also here

Compared to Swain's impeccably upright military posture, Darius appeared somewhat relaxed, carrying his massive axe on his shoulder to prevent it from being knocked over on the stone steps. His bare arms were thicker than bowls, and his expression was serious, exuding an imposing aura. He subtly raised his chin as he stared at the intruder.

Darius was not surprised that the Wild Hunt was traveling with Swain, but what surprised him was the other person who came down with them.

"Riven? What's she doing here?" Wild Hunt asked in surprise.

Riven isn't anything special, at least not a heavyweight in this battle, and she's also a deserter who once decimated Noxus, making her presence here seem quite out of place.

Noxus, built on a foundation of perpetual conflict, has never lacked war orphans, and Riven is a common example. She spent her childhood on an imperial farm, and in pursuit of a better life, she voluntarily swore an oath to serve the empire and joined the Noxian army.

Riven proved to be a natural-born warrior. She quickly adapted to the weight of the weapon and built a new home in the flames of war, forming a sworn sisterhood with a group of comrades.

She was so loyal to the Empire that the puppet emperor, Brown Darkwell, personally bestowed upon her a black stone rune greatsword, which was even enchanted by LeBlanc, who was then serving in the cabinet.

The turning point of the story comes shortly after during the Ionian invasion, when Riven's band is assigned to escort alchemists from Zaun through the war zone to test a new type of chemical weapon.

They encountered fierce resistance from the Ionians, and even the earth itself rebelled against them. The earth spirits sent a storm with mudslides, forcing Riven and her companions to retreat to their chemical weapons.

However, they did not receive aid from allies; the only response they received was a burning arrow. Chemical flames erupted from the ruptured container, and both sides perished in excruciating, bloody agony.

If nothing unexpected happens, the alchemist hired by Noxus is most likely Singed from Zaun, and the horrific burns on his face correspond to this incident. This new type of chemical weapon later proved its worth in the war, allowing Noxus to wipe out the reclusive masters of the Wuju Blade School, leaving only Yi as their sole survivor.

Riven escaped death thanks to the protection of the Runeblade, but this betrayal left her utterly disillusioned with Noxus. Wanting to break the sword and sever all ties with Noxus, she stumbled upon the Gale Gym in the rain and asked Elder Souma to help her break the sword.

Whether it was LeBlanc's scheme or Riven's absolute bad luck, when Souma used his Wind Blade Technique to break the greatsword, the flying shards instead killed him. Riven fled overnight, leading to Yasuo being falsely accused of murdering his master, since he was the only one in the world who knew Wind Blade Technique, being Souma's direct disciple.

Unwilling to confess and accept punishment, Yasuo was forced to flee. His brother Yone was ordered to capture him, but the brothers turned on each other and Yone was killed. Yone's death further cemented Yasuo's reputation for betraying his master, leading to him being wanted and condemned throughout Ionia, adding another blood debt to Riven's list. Although the misunderstanding was later cleared up and Yone was resurrected in another form, Yasuo's life was forever altered.

This is why Wild Hunt pays more attention to Riven among the group. Although she is just an insignificant pawn of Noxus, she has caused quite a bit of drama, almost comparable to LeBlanc.

After that, Riven developed a high fever from being caught in the rain and was taken in and cared for by an elderly Ionian couple. Learning that the couple's son had died in battle, Riven, filled with remorse, decided to stay and care for the elderly couple until their deaths, also as a form of atonement.

After retiring from the battlefield, Riven began searching for inner peace. But Noxus never forgot her. Several years after the war ended, a special squad composed of Riven's twin sisters came to Ionia specifically to find her.

They were all survivors of that war, and all disfigured by alchemical flames. They were brought together by runesmiths sent by LeBlanc, and came with a special affection to capture Riven, the deserter.

Riven was forced to take up the runic broken sword. Her former comrades, driven mad by hatred, died by her blade. After the fierce battle, to protect her adoptive parents in Ionia from harm, Riven accepted the identity of a deserter and returned to Noxus in chains.

It was only then that she learned that LeBlanc had orchestrated all of this.

LeBlanc wanted Riven to continue playing for her, but Riven refused. Riven was then thrown into the Reaper's Arena, where her outstanding performance caught the attention of Draven, the Glorious Executioner.

Draven, Darius's younger brother, was intrigued and personally challenged Riven to a match. That's all Wild Hunt knew, but judging from the result, regardless of the outcome, Riven earned Draven's appreciation.

That's why she was introduced to Darius and appeared in the line behind Swain at this moment. But given Riven's sensitive identity, Wild Hunt felt that this was likely another carefully planned conspiracy by LeBlanc.

The procession on the stone steps moved slowly because Swain had difficulty walking. He had not only lost an arm on the battlefield in Ionia, but also a kneecap.

But this commander possessed an irresistible aura of coercion and power, so much so that no one dared to act rashly, silently waiting for him to enter... even though he was a cripple approaching his twilight years...

Swain finally stopped beside the giant well, his Trevori Legion blocking his only escape route. Those who couldn't stand still lined up on the stone steps, aiming their crossbows at the enemy.

"Undead, we spent centuries sealing that warmonger away, and you think you can drag everyone down with your own suffering? I will not allow it, and Noxus will not allow it either."

He extended his left hand from under his coat, a dark red demonic claw replacing his severed left arm, controlling the giant claw that was suppressing Thresh, rendering the latter speechless. Karthus descended from mid-air, attempting to free Thresh from his restraints.

“Don’t take credit for it, that was my achievement,” LeBlanc retorted sarcastically. Her exaggerated stand-up collar and tear stains shaped like fangs made her resemble a cobra in an attack stance, and her image, like Cleopatra, made the Wild Hunt wonder if she was a Shuriman.

"Pale Lady, this is your only contribution to Noxus. The Black Rose, watered with the blood of the empire for thousands of years, is not much better than that tyrant. If you had used that blood to outline the map, Noxus would have been unmatched long ago!"

Chapter 761 Home and Country

Faced with Swain's sarcasm, LeBlanc retorted without changing her expression: "You keep talking about Noxus, but if you really care about the Empire, then deal with these two ill-intentioned intruders first."

Swain ignored the two Shadow Isles undead, looking completely confident, and continued to examine the Soul Well.

“Asking for help requires sincerity, Pale Lady. You think you can boss us around with just a clone? That's far too arrogant.” The speaker was Dreyer, his voice like the growl of a black wolf warning an enemy. Rough and uncouth, unlike Swain’s refined manners.

"Who sent you to suppress your traitorous Noxian lover? Darius. Have you forgotten?" LeBlanc retorted with a cold laugh.

The space seemed to freeze. Darius's eyes were wide with rage. Riven, who was standing next to him, didn't want him to lose his temper, so she whispered a warning: "Don't listen to her. She's trying to sow discord."

Darius raised his hand to indicate that it was alright, his gaze fixed on LeBlanc, his eyes flashing with anger: "The Grand Commander did not issue a special conscription order to that kid. You were the one who secretly sabotaged him and killed him on the battlefield."

"A rope always breaks at its thinnest point, and misfortune always finds its way to the unfortunate. Could the Commander-in-Chief please explain why Darius was specifically chosen? Is it perhaps a deliberate attempt to give him this military honor?"

“Loyalty to the Empire must always take precedence over duty to one’s family.” Swine remained unmoved.

Riven might be seeing things, but she felt she saw Darius's expression suddenly darken for a moment when he heard those words. However, the Hand of Noxus didn't respond.

LeBlanc thought her plan to sow discord had succeeded, when she heard Swain sigh: "Only by sending Darius can we subdue the enemy without a fight. And only by doing so can we truly see a person for who he is."

The belated explanation couldn't undo anything. Even though Darius knew this was a test from Swain, and that once he passed it, the road ahead would be smooth, he still couldn't help but reveal his hatred, making the scar on his face look even more ferocious.

“They seem to be talking about Darius and Quelleta’s illegitimate son,” Cassiopeia explained, afraid the Wild Hunt wouldn’t understand, but the Wild Hunt knew far more details than she did.

Quelleta was Darius's childhood sweetheart and lover. They joined the army together, fought side by side on the battlefield, and forged a bond that transcended life and death. Later, Darius became a general and fought on all fronts, while Quelleta became the governor of Besilico and raised a son and a daughter.

Her reason for betraying her country was simple: her son was killed on the battlefield by Darius's conscription order, but Darius was unaware of this, so there must have been some misunderstanding.

Without a doubt, this was a conspiracy orchestrated by LeBlanc to sow discord between Darius and Swain. She knew that Darius's family was his weakness, and that Swain, being a man who prioritized the Empire above all else, would definitely take this opportunity to test Darius's loyalty to the Empire. Thus, she arranged this melodramatic tragedy for the two men with differing ideologies.

Darius, acting on Swain's orders, went to suppress the rebellious Quelletta. When he tried to persuade his lover to surrender, their daughter, who was serving as an adjutant in the city, volunteered to surrender. In front of Darius, she ruthlessly slit Quelletta's throat with a dagger, ending the conflict in the way Darius least wanted to see.

LeBlanc had been plotting to split the alliance between Swain and Darius for years. She manipulated military orders to send Darius's son to the battlefield, instilled treasonous ideas in Quelleta, and finally instigated their daughter to betray her own family to prove herself. This was LeBlanc's usual tactic; she created a rift between them, and the poor victim, Darius, suffered a fate a thousand times more painful than the loss of his wife and children.

Loyalty to the Empire must always take precedence over responsibility to family—this was Swain's principle, and he truly lived by it. Early in his life, upon discovering his parents were members of the Black Rose, he immediately reported their crimes to the Empire, resulting in their execution.

But Darius was not as ruthless as him. Family was more important to him than country. After causing the death of his wife and son, this guilt would intensify his protection of his family, thus making him choose family over country in the dilemma.

Darius's understanding of Swain's actions didn't mean he could accept them. Planting the seeds of hatred made things much simpler for LeBlanc. Her specialty was cultivating seeds into flowers—and black roses at that.

Noticing Darius's lingering emotions, Swain turned to him and said, "Don't forget we all share the same goal: to make Noxus better." (The rest of the text appears to be gibberish and unrelated to the previous sentences.)