Accompanied by only three shield formations, one of which would advance further into the village for additional reconnaissance, Jarvan IV and his entourage made their way to the outskirts of the village. Despite the drone's initial scouting of the village, they needed to ensure that Noxians had not set any magical traps in advance.
Noxus, unrestricted by magical regulations, even exploited dark magic without hesitation.
With that in mind, they had to confirm that the village was free from any pre-placed Noxian magic traps.
Meanwhile, the other three shield formations remained outside the village to guard the Noxian prisoners and coordinate with the hidden shield formations in the distant forest, ready to support the prince if needed.
Although Noxus had many troops, each soldier of the Fearless Vanguard was capable of handling a hundred adversaries.
The enemy's numbers were thus insignificant.
Upon arriving at the village entrance, the group dismounted. Sixteen elite warriors from the two shield formations surrounded Jarvan IV, Li Lin, Shyvana, and Alburk in the center.
Li Lin, meanwhile, had secretly deployed hundreds of airborne drones equipped with "optical camouflage" to secure the village's entrances and exits.
Upon learning of the Demacian army's arrival, the Noxians swiftly prepared their defenses, gathering in the village center around the village chief's house.
Their commander, the Pale Lady, was stationed at the gate, while Ted remained imprisoned in a side room.
In the narrow street, Jarvan IV and his group halted at a distance of several dozen meters from the Noxian forces, facing off in a tense standoff.
"Are you Prince Jarvan IV?"
The Noxian commander, a middle-aged man, called out in a somewhat awkward but fluent Demacian, "I am General Prescott of Noxus's 37th War Battalion."
"I've come as you requested. Where is Ted?"
Jarvan IV clearly had little patience for the invading Noxians who had nearly captured his enemy by setting traps.
"Prince, you're so impatient. Lack of patience may lead to setbacks," Prescott replied with a light chuckle.
To the Demacian side, it sounded like a direct insult to their prince's recent failures.
"How dare you disrespect the prince!" barked Paldrek, the protector by Jarvan's side, his anger palpable.
"Ah, youth should temper their zeal," Prescott responded, still smiling, seemingly unaffected by Paldrek's ire.
"You must be the newly appointed Sword Captain of the Fearless Vanguard," Prescott continued mockingly. "I've heard of you. Seems Tiyana thought your position too insignificant and made you a grand marshal?"
"Tsk, tsk, the left and right arms of the Light Shield royalty can easily reach heights ordinary people could only dream of."
"You!"
Paldrek, though formidable in strength, clearly struggled against Prescott's verbal jabs, retreating with each barbed comment.
"Unlike Noxus, where merit determines rank, anyone proving their worth can rise to a position matching their abilities," Prescott sneered, his words dripping with disdain for Demacia and praise for Noxus.
"That's enough!" Jarvan IV could no longer contain his frustration. "I didn't come here to listen to your bragging about your barbaric and violent system! Hand over Ted immediately!"
Prescott shrugged, unfazed by the Demacians' dismissal of his usual propaganda about loyalty to the empire. Convincing them was akin to seeing the sun rise in the west.
"Let's discuss inside," Prescott suggested, "Standing outside the village to talk is…"
"No need," Jarvan IV interrupted. "This place will do. We'll exchange the hostages, and you can return to Noxus. No need for any further complications."
"Very well," Prescott replied nonchalantly. "However, we did agree on 50 Noxian prisoners for your subordinate."
Jarvan IV's eyes narrowed as he tightened his grip on his gun, pointing its tip at Prescott.
"Don't spout nonsense!" He restrained his rising anger and said in a low voice, "30 prisoners for Ted, as agreed with your envoy last night!"
"Perhaps your envoy made a mistake? I've always demanded 50 prisoners."
Damn it! Greedy Noxian scum!
Seeing Prescott's brazen demeanor, Jarvan IV furrowed his brows, then relaxed with a cold smile.
"According to our scouts, your squad is 5 kilometers from your main force.
"With only 50 of you in this village, and the Fearless Vanguard with me, do you think you stand a chance against us?
"Moreover, compared to Ted, it seems you, and that apparent noble by your side, hold more value to Demacia.
"I believe Ted would be willing to sacrifice himself for Demacia, just to see you captured."
Prescott squinted, pausing momentarily before speaking, "You won't do that, Prince Jarvan IV."
"Try me."
Jarvan IV's voice was devoid of any emotion, colder than the most frigid ice.
"Tsk…"
Prescott spat silently, rubbing his chin with his gloved hand.
Two outposts of several hundred men had mysteriously disappeared, as if they had vanished without a trace, their fates unknown.
He didn't believe his soldiers would desert mid-battle, as such actions were severely punished in Noxus under Darius's command, with deserters facing execution to maintain morale.
This was still the border of Demacia; they couldn't escape very far.
Moreover, even the Bloodthirsty Lady Faris Noladi and her Grim Brigade had disappeared, most likely meeting with misfortune.
Adding to this, the bizarre nature of these two incidents had reduced his brigade by half, making it nearly impossible to contend with the Demacian forces.
Just as he was preparing to order a retreat... she arrived.
Prescott glanced at the woman beside him out of the corner of his eye.
Recalling the scene from that day, he couldn't help but break into a cold sweat, still feeling uneasy.
The woman, a middle-aged noble with a deathly pallor and an air of elegance, had somehow evaded the layers of guards and appeared silently in his tent.
She hadn't revealed her name. Simply standing there, she seemed to blend seamlessly with her surroundings, creating a mirroring effect. Her icy demeanor made Prescott shiver with an inexplicable fear.
At that time, the woman had held a black rose emblem, conveying an order from the higher-ups:
Exchange the captured prince Jarvan IV's bodyguard captain, Ted, for 30 prisoners of war captured by Demacia.
Prescott was puzzled why the Black Rose would issue such an order, but given his past as a royalist, he knew it wouldn't be long before the new grand leader, Swain, would exact retribution. He had no choice but to seek the protection of the Black Rose.
But at what cost...
Prescott shook his head, his gaze fixed on the distant Demacians. Lowering his voice, he asked the noblewoman beside him, "What should we do? Are we really going to exchange Ted?"
He was deeply conflicted.
He had led this campaign against Demacia without Swain's approval.
According to Noxian law, such unauthorized actions would result in the commander being publicly executed unless counterbalanced by outstanding military achievements.
Capturing the captain of Prince Jarvan IV's bodyguard, though it might not make up for his mistakes or secure his position as general, at least ensured his survival.
Of course, this was merely Prescott's wishful thinking.
Who knew if Swain would renege on his promise of sparing old noble lives if they submitted?
"Exchange them. We have no use for Ted," the noblewoman said coldly, her expression unchanged.
"No use?! Are you mad? Thirty soldiers are nothing compared to a Demacian royal bodyguard captain!"
Prescott almost lost his composure, nearly grinding his teeth as he spoke.
"I clearly told you that we need at least a hundred prisoners to exchange for Ted. You've utterly failed to realize his value!"
The noblewoman merely cast a disdainful glance at him, her inscrutable gaze instilling fear.
"It seems you've forgotten your place," she said, shaking her head. "You need the Black Rose's help, not the other way around. We don't need a loose dog."
Prescott clenched his fists, his forehead veins bulging, his teeth grinding so hard it seemed they might bleed.
He had suffered greater humiliation in his past, but this was the first time he had been so insulted since becoming a Noxian general.
Breathe...
Prescott took a deep breath. "So, our purpose today is to exchange a more important person for 30 insignificant prisoners?"
"No," the noblewoman replied tersely.
A glint of something unusual flickered in her deep eyes as her gaze briefly passed over Jarvan IV behind the shield wall, lingered on Shyvana, and then met Li Lin's.
The noblewoman's lips curved into a faint smile. "That boy is quite interesting. Our main objective is to observe him."
Jarvan IV had already urged the exchange of prisoners again, and Prescott's face showed a hint of urgency as he casually responded.
He then sent a dozen men to check the situation of the Noxian prisoners and had others bring out Ted, who was held in a side room.
"He doesn't look like a Demacian," he said to the noblewoman.
"He is a renowned figure from Piltover, known as the 'Genius Craftsman' and 'Future Pioneer,' Li Lin."
"Li Lin? I think I've heard that name. The dual-wheeled bicycle used by our army was invented by him... Noxus pays a hefty annual patent fee for the manufacturing rights.
"How did he end up colluding with the Demacians? Piltover is a neutral city-state!"
The noblewoman fell into a long silence until the 30 prisoners were escorted into the village. Her expression slightly shifted, as if sensing something.
Without a word, she turned and left, not looking back.
"Wait! Where are you going?"
Prescott was anxious, wanting to chase after the noblewoman but unable to abandon his men.
The prisoners had been exchanged, and Jarvan IV seemed enraged. The next step was to find a way to escape.
However, the noblewoman who had conveyed the Black Rose's higher-ups' orders hadn't told him how to escape from the wrath of the Demacian prince and the fearless Vanguard with only 50 men.
After a moment's thought, Prescott turned and followed the noblewoman into the main building, where the sunlight did not reach and the room was dimly lit.
"Hold on, you only allowed me to bring 50 men. The 30 prisoners are useless. How do we get out of here?"
"Since when did I promise you a safe escape?"
Prescott's eyes widened, his mood sinking. "What... what do you mean?!"
The noblewoman's lips curled into a faint, enigmatic smile. "Everything is just an illusion."
"What nonsense! I had a deal with the Black Rose. You promised to protect me from Swain's retribution!"
"Yes, but didn't we fulfill that agreement?"
"What— You deceived me!"
Prescott took a sharp breath, realizing he had been played.
Here in Demacia, if he were captured or killed by Demacian soldiers, wouldn't it be the same as not being punished by Swain?
"Damn you, bitch!"
A surge of anger and betrayal ignited within him. Prescott drew his sword and, with swift steps, charged toward the smiling noblewoman.
"Even if I die, I'll drag you down with me!"
He swung his sword. Though the blade clearly passed through the noblewoman's neck, he felt no tangible resistance.
Prescott's face registered shock. "This, this is impossible!"
"Haha... I told you, everything is just an illusion," the noblewoman's chilling laughter echoed.
As Prescott stared in astonishment, her form dissipated into swirling black mist, rapidly dispersing in the air.
Her body was becoming transparent, like an illusion that did not truly exist in this space.
"Who... who are you?"
Sensing the metallic taste of blood rising in his mouth, Prescott frantically swung his sword at the noblewoman, but it did nothing to slow her disappearance.
"The Empire no longer needs you, Prescott."
As her body vanished completely, her mocking voice echoed in the small room.
"But your death will only help the Black Rose in the darkness grow stronger."
(End of Chapter)
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