Ten minutes ago, at the Hextech Gate Tower in Piltover's southern district, Mel Medarda stood waiting with her assistant, Elora, in the lounge for passenger airships. She occasionally glanced at the Levick clock mounted on the wall.
"Jayce hasn't arrived yet?"
Mel, dressed in an elegant slit gown, kept her gaze fixed on the entrance to the empty elevator shaft leading to the lounge.
Given the current instability across the nations of Runeterra, passenger airships from Piltover were rarely used; most of the Hextech Gates were dedicated to transporting goods for merchants.
However, to avoid any unnecessary interference, Mel had invoked her authority as a councilor to temporarily close the tower to other passengers. Today, she was welcoming a highly significant guest—someone she hadn't seen in over a decade.
"Mr. Talis left in a hurry last night," Elora replied cautiously. "The night watchman said he was heading toward the Academy."
Elora couldn't help but notice that Mel seemed more formal and stern than usual, which only added to her unease.
"He left me a note," Mel replied absentmindedly, her gaze unfocused. "He said that Viktor had an urgent matter—something about a new invention. Perhaps he's stuck on a problem and can't get away."
Elora pursed her lips and chose to remain silent, sensing that was the best response. After all, she wouldn't know what else to say even if she tried.
About ten minutes later, the hum of Hextech-powered engines filled the air outside the waiting lounge. Three airships, each distinct in design but all imposing and heavily armored, unlike Piltover's lighter crafts, began their descent toward the open platform.
The metallic hulls of the airships bore the twin-blade emblem of Noxus, and their doors displayed a symbol strikingly similar to the Medarda family crest—a slender four-pointed star layered over geometric shapes.
It was the insignia of the Noxian branch of the Medarda family.
"They've arrived…"
Elora looked visibly nervous, but Mel, in stark contrast, exuded an air of grim composure. Her amber eyes reflected only solemnity.
As the first two airships settled on the platform, hissing jets of white steam obscured half their frames. With a sharp clang of metal meeting marble, the retractable gangplank extended to the ground, and a burly, bearded man wielding a long-handled axe emerged from the first airship. He was clad in armor that only protected his front—a Noxian military standard.
Behind him, soldiers clad in matching armor and red headscarves, their faces hidden behind metal masks, disembarked in tight formations. They took positions on either side of the platform, forming a ceremonial guard.
Mel took a deep breath, her gaze fixed on the third airship, its doors still sealed. Her brow furrowed slightly. "Let's go."
Just as Mel and Elora left their seats, the sound of grinding metal filled the air. The elevator at the back of the lounge began its ascent.
Startled, Mel turned to see Jayce standing on the platform as the elevator reached the top floor.
"Mel!"
Jayce waved as the gate opened, and he jogged over to join her and Elora. "Sorry I'm late…"
He nodded at Elora in greeting before locking eyes with Mel.
"It's fine," Mel said, managing a faint smile. "Actually, your timing couldn't be better—they've only just arrived."
Jayce, though perceptive, couldn't miss the worry lingering in her eyes.
"Who's here that's got you so worked up?"
As they approached the open platform, Jayce took note of the armed Noxian soldiers. His brow furrowed slightly.
"Whoever it is, they must be someone of high status."
Piltover prided itself on its neutrality, allowing foreign soldiers to pass through its ports under strict conditions, though the fees were steep. As the inventor of the Hex Gates, Jayce held considerable authority over their use and had never granted Noxian troops permission to transport via this technology.
Had Mel not been involved—and seemingly connected to the visitors—Jayce might already have called Sheriff Grayson and Councilor Cassandra to intervene.
Walking beside them, Elora hesitated, her gaze darting between Jayce and Mel.
When they reached the platform's edge, nearing the Noxian soldiers, Mel sighed deeply and replied in a low voice, "The visitor is my mother."
"Your mother?!" Jayce exclaimed, drawing glances from the nearby soldiers.
"Ambessa Medarda," Mel said, her voice steady but laden with emotion.
"My great-grandfather was once the brother of the Medarda patriarch in Piltover's upper city. But they had a falling out over the Sun Gate project, and his family relocated to Noxus to start anew.
"My maternal grandfather later earned glory on the battlefield, elevating our Noxian branch from a business family to one involved in politics and military affairs.
"Thirty years ago, my grandfather died in war, leaving my mother, who was still a teenager, to inherit the family."
Unbidden, Mel recalled a moment from her childhood—a battlefield her mother had once taken her to. It had been the site of a defiant kingdom crushed under Ambessa's command.
In the bloodstained ruins of its palace, with its throne toppled and crumbling, Mel had witnessed her mother execute the kingdom's last royal bloodline—a young princess.
The act was cold and deliberate, ensuring no chance for rebellion to rise again.
Ever since that day, Mel had been exiled for lacking the resolve and ruthlessness expected of her. She had shown mercy and compassion even in the face of her enemies, qualities deemed unacceptable.
However, after arriving in Piltover, she earned the sponsorship of the Ferros family with her innate abilities and learned much more.
Bloodshed and slaughter were never necessities. Under Darkwill's rule, Noxus' brutal tyranny only led to more death, as seen in the Navori War years ago.
Standing amidst the soldiers, Mel stared blankly at the final airship as it prepared to dock. Her scattered thoughts quickly coalesced.
"After I was born and raised, she thought I lacked courage and leadership, so she exiled me alone to Piltover," Mel said with a self-deprecating smile. "I have no idea why my mother suddenly decided to visit me today, but given that I'm still the poorest member of the Medarda family, I doubt she'll have anything pleasant to say to me."
Jayce took her hand. "Mel…"
Before he could offer any words of comfort, a soft *hiss* interrupted as the airship's hatch released its pressure.
The three of them instinctively turned toward the door. Mel narrowed her eyes, Jayce's expression tensed, and Elora appeared visibly uneasy.
Through the dense mist, a robust figure emerged, stepping forward to the entrance.
It was a strong woman, likely in her fifties.
Standing just shy of Jayce's height, she wore custom armor distinct from the ordinary soldiers' attire, complemented by a red cloak. Her left hand, wrapped in crimson bands, rested on her wide belt, ready to draw the dagger beneath her palm at a moment's notice.
Her gray-white curls were swept back, and her dark skin bore numerous pink scars across her face, neck, and arms—areas unprotected by her armor. These marks, unmistakably, were from blade wounds stitched together after fierce battles.
Mel fixated on her mother, feeling something was…off.
Her mother, who had once led sieges and killed without hesitation, now seemed overly vigilant. She didn't utter a single word upon seeing Mel, and her fleeting, restless gaze betrayed a trace of unease.
This was a stark contrast to the fearsome woman Mel had known.
What had happened?
Before Mel could think further, another figure suddenly appeared, gliding silently through the lingering mist. A slender silhouette came to a halt beside Ambessa.
The newcomer was a young woman with fiery red hair tied back. She carried two short blades strapped to her back and wore a light, revealing outfit: a simple leather crop top with matching jacket, exposing toned abs, tight-fitting pants, and knee-high leather boots. A thorny black tattoo coiled around her left side, adding a fierce edge to her already striking appearance. She was like a rose adorned with thorns—beautiful yet dangerous.
With a slight tilt of her chin, the red-haired woman swept a casual, disdainful gaze over Jayce, Mel, and Elora. Her lips curved into a cold smirk, oozing contempt.
Mel frowned. It was clear that ever since this woman had appeared beside her mother, Ambessa had grown more nervous.
Her mother was afraid of this arrogant woman?
Why?
"So this is Piltover?"
The red-haired woman patted Ambessa's shoulder, her sharp eyes scanning the surrounding architecture from the vantage point of the open platform.
"It's a bit different from what I imagined," she said with a light laugh.
"Indeed, Miss Du Couteau," Ambessa replied in a raspy voice, forcing a strained smile. "I had already mentioned how Piltover differs from Noxus."
Wait—Du Couteau?!
Mel suppressed her shock. She was all too familiar with the infamous Noxian assassin family.
General Du Couteau was a prominent politician and warlord in Noxus, as well as one of the leaders of the Assassin's Guild.
Not only did he wield immense influence in the assassin world, but he also held significant sway in Noxian military and political affairs—a towering figure of authority.
He had two daughters. However, Mel had heard that his younger daughter had perished a year or two ago in the Shuriman desert, reportedly falling victim to the forbidden wards of an Ascended tomb.
If someone could still be addressed as "Miss Du Couteau" and commanded the respect of someone like Ambessa, it could only be Du Couteau's elder daughter, Katarina.
It was one thing to secretly infiltrate the twin cities with war masons, but for a Noxian assassin to brazenly appear in broad daylight…
Mel's gaze sharpened with caution.
"I told you, just call me Katarina," the red-haired woman said with a faint smile, exchanging a glance with Ambessa. "Using last names feels so formal, doesn't it?"
"Fine, fine…Katarina," Ambessa exhaled deeply and glanced at Mel at the base of the steps. "I haven't seen my daughter in over ten years. Could you give us a moment of privacy?"
[End of Chapter]
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