As they reemerged under the sun, a sense of disconnection washed over the crowd, as if they had stepped out of a different world.
Behind them loomed a swirling sandstorm, a natural barrier that had shielded the sealed land for millennia, its fierce gusts laden with enough force to pierce flesh. Yet, this tempest, once a guardian, now howled in futility, for the treasures it protected had vanished forever.
The pyramid, once a majestic sentinel amidst the storm, had lost all semblance of its original purpose, reduced to a forsaken relic of antiquity. The youthful goddess and her two divine emissaries had fallen, and the magical king, sealed for thousands of years, had been dragged into the abyss by the forbidden laws of Nasus.
What remained in this endless desert was a true wasteland; future wanderers, even if they stumbled upon the pyramid's existence, would find no trace of the deities that once graced its halls.
Standing at the edge of the storm, bathed in sunlight, the group reflected on their harrowing experiences within the sealed realm, each feeling a pang of melancholy.
Before them stretched an infinite expanse of golden sand, with towering dunes extending into the horizon, merging earth and sky beneath the azure canopy, creating a vast, open vista.
Shyvana, supporting the gravely injured Jarvan, slowly made her way toward the shadow of a nearby dune where the military camp of the Demacian Vanguard lay. However, due to the relentless sandstorm surrounding the pyramid, only Jarvan and Shyvana had managed to penetrate its depths.
In her encounter with Rek'Sai, Shyvana, the commander of the Vanguard, had been easily overpowered by the brute strength of the beast. Yet, her injuries were not as severe as Jarvan's—at least, not in comparison to her lord's plight.
Jarvan, the prince, now appeared somewhat battered; despite his opponent's abilities being suppressed, he had paid a heavy price for victory against a demigod far beyond the strength of his peers.
Under the onslaught of Rek'Sai's divine wrath, Jarvan bore numerous grievous wounds, and in a desperate bid for triumph, he had nearly sacrificed his very soul. Now, this battle-hardened prince lacked even the strength to wield his sword.
In the desert sunlight, Shyvana, bearing the long spear forged from the spine of the Dragon Emperor, the "Spear of the Thousand Nobles," struggled onward, propping up Jarvan, her silhouette exuding a sense of desolation.
Trailing behind the determined Shyvana, Lux felt somewhat helpless and frustrated; she had intended to assist but had been rebuffed by Shyvana.
"Phew... we finally made it out; that was no easy feat," Teemo yawned under the sun, remarking, "It may not have been long, yet I feel utterly exhausted."
"Hmph... the little kitty is not shy, yet claims to be tired?" Little Annie, cradling her quietly resting teddy bear, teased as usual. "It's clear that only Uncle Jarvan and Sister Riven were fighting while the little kitty merely watched the spectacle. And now you dare to say you're tired... how utterly... shameful. Annie can hardly respect you now."
"Uh... you..." Teemo found himself at a loss, caught off guard by the girl's teasing.
"Ha ha ha ha..." Observing the disgruntled little fellow and the gleeful girl reveling in her successful jibe, Riven playfully patted Teemo's head, laughing heartily.
"..." Silently observing the relaxed expressions of those around him, Xiao Mu Yu's gaze drifted toward the direction Jarvan had departed.
At that moment, with Shyvana's support, Jarvan's figure was spotted by the sentry, prompting one soldier to rush into the camp to report, while another hurried to assist Jarvan.
However, this soldier's help was promptly declined by the unsteady Shyvana, for to allow her lord Jarvan to suffer injuries more severe than her own in battle was an undeniable disgrace.
Though she struggled to walk, she remained resolute in her determination to atone for her perceived failures.
The soldier stood awkwardly, unsure of how to proceed. Lux sighed and approached, gently patting his shoulder. "It's alright; you needn't worry. Just continue with your duties."
"Oh." The soldier nodded, somewhat understanding, and stepped aside, watching as Shyvana and her companions gradually disappeared into the camp.
"Say... Mu Yu, where do you intend to go next?" Riven inquired, approaching Xiao Mu Yu. "How about... visiting Noxus? I would be delighted to host you."
"…" Upon hearing Riven's question, Xiao Mu Yu cast a silent glance at the little Annie, clutching her teddy bear, and coldly replied, "Next... hmm?"
Suddenly sensing something, Xiao Mu Yu paused mid-sentence, his expression turning icy as he raised his gaze to the distant sky. Noticing his demeanor, Riven curiously followed his line of sight.
In the clear blue sky, a small dark figure was steadily enlarging. As it drew nearer, the messenger's full form became visible to all.
It was a cerulean bird soaring from the direction of Demacia, its sleek and smooth feathers gleaming in the sunlight, appearing pristine and refreshing. However, atop its head, a cluster of slender white plumes gave it an odd appearance, complemented by its ruby-red eyes that exuded an unsettling aura.
"Hmm? Is that... a Fifth-Tier Soul-Transferring Bluebird?" Recognizing the creature, Riven recalled it as a high-tier beast frequently dispatched between major factions to relay messages. Glancing at the silent man beside her, she connected the bird to its master and realized, "Is it... here for you, Mu Yu?"
"…" Nodding in silence, Xiao Mu Yu's cold gaze followed the bluebird as it circled overhead before landing gracefully upon his shoulder.
The bluebird's crimson eyes flashed with a red light, and an intangible thought entered the young man's mind.
Images began to flicker before his eyes...
Pitch-black pupils slowly closed...
And then opened.
Xiao Mu Yu lowered his head in contemplation before casting a cold glance at the bluebird on his shoulder, stating icily, "You may return now; tell Sister Ashe that I am aware."
Upon receiving the command, the bluebird flapped its wings, seemingly intimidated by the chill emanating from Xiao Mu Yu, and took flight in haste.
Ignoring the departing creature, Xiao Mu Yu turned with a frigid expression toward the military camp of the Demacian forces. A gust of wind swept through, stirring up a whirlwind of sand, and amidst the swirling grains, his icy voice resonated, "It seems... I must first head to Demacia."
The second volume of the story, "Spring Cold," concludes.