News of Demacia's defeat at the frontier quickly spread across Runeterra.
Thanks to Noxus's carefully crafted propaganda, nearly every major power had received the news by nightfall.
By the next day, even those within the Immortal Bastion could see it—the Virtue Sword, once the most praised weapon of the Winged Protector, now impaled like an ordinary blade in the square before the Trifarian Assembly.
Crowds swarmed around it.
The message was unmistakable.
Though the empire now stood under new leadership, its strength remained undiminished.
Even the slaying of a god—something previously thought impossible—had been accomplished by this new Noxus.
Across much of the empire, cities drowned in waves of celebration.
The people, stirred by fervor, longed to take up arms once again and fight as Noxian vanguard soldiers, hungry for glory.
But due to the empire's current policy of consolidating its front lines, their enthusiasm had no battlefield to meet.
Instead, many flooded into Shurima, seeking relics and treasures to bring honor to Noxus.
"The Empire is rising faster than anyone could have imagined."
Jayce watched the growing crowd flocking toward the Academy of War, his expression conflicted.
"Come on. You're part of this now—you'll grow alongside the empire," Mel said, tugging his arm.
But Jayce didn't budge.
Mel glanced up, only to find him staring into the distance.
She followed his gaze, and her eyes narrowed with recognition.
"Viktor?"
Down the path, Viktor was walking with Ekko and Jinx.
He had also stopped—his gaze locked with Jayce's.
Today, both men wore the same Noxian professor's robe: deep blue with insignias of the empire and the Academy of War.
On their sleeves was the mark of a claw curled around a Hextech gemstone—the symbol of their department.
The Hextech Department.
"Jayce is a professor, too?" Ekko muttered, confused.
He looked stronger than before. His bare arms bore fresh scars—souvenirs from the brutal trials of the arena.
"He's my assistant," Viktor replied coolly.
"He helps teach Hextech. He'll show you how to build your own Hex weapons."
Without another word, Viktor turned away from Jayce and walked toward the academy.
"I'm not in Hextech," Jinx muttered with a shrug, seemingly unfazed.
One of her braids was now longer than the other, and her face bore a few healing scars.
She looked calmer than usual, but a glance into her eyes still revealed the chaos burning beneath.
It was as if Pow-Pow and Jinx had finally become the same.
"Come on, Warfare Department reports today too," Ekko said.
The past few days in the arena had pushed them to the brink, forcing Ekko to reconnect with a part of himself he thought he'd buried.
After Silco's death, he'd released much of the anger he'd carried.
As the enforcer who once mentored him used to say, "We're from Zaun. Everything we do is for a better Zaun."
"Yeah, yeah. Hope today's interesting. I heard Noxus won again. The arena's probably going wild," Jinx said with a smirk as she followed him.
"Let's go," Jayce said quietly, snapping out of his daze and gently pulling Mel along.
They entered the Academy of War together.
High above them, in the tower's top floor, sat the office of the dean—Swain's former post, now occupied by someone new.
"The last time we met alone like this was in Piltover."
Ryan looked calmly at Camille, standing before him.
Since the news of Noxus's victory over a god had swept across the continent, her demeanor had subtly shifted.
"Last time, the Immortal Bastion dealt with a few foolish nobles. They thought their ignorance entitled them to speak on Trifarian affairs," Camille said with a faint chuckle.
Ryan didn't respond. He glanced down at the stack of student files in his hand and replied offhandedly,
"Talk to the Commander if you're buying land. That's not my concern."
"I'm not here to cause trouble. But the academy belongs to the council now, and some of my younger relatives are... a bit slow. I need to find them a decent place," Camille replied, her tone unusually casual, almost like a parent trying to get their child into a good school.
Ryan raised an eyebrow. He looked up, studying her expression. She wasn't joking.
"How much land did the Commander give you?"
Camille smiled.
"Something called the Lehman family estate. Enough to house about a hundred comfortably."
Ryan didn't flinch.
"Ten student slots? That'll cost you 10,000 merit points, Councilor Camille."
His tone was neutral—no favoritism, no negotiation.
The merit system was his creation, the foundation of Noxian meritocracy.
Every contribution was quantified. Points could buy anything the Empire owned—even privileges.
Enough of them could earn you a title, even hereditary ones.
But true power in Noxus had to be earned, not inherited.
Camille knew that. She tilted her head, amused.
"That's manageable. Looks like I'll be traveling again soon. How many for a member of the Shadow Order? One? Two? Three?"
Her Hextech eyes gleamed faintly as she mused over possible targets.
Ryan didn't look up.
"No one with Noxian ties. You've served the Empire in Ionia—you should know better than most what that means."
Camille's voice cooled slightly.
"That boy? A promising one, if reckless. Not everyone pledges loyalty to their homeland."
"He's Noxian now."
Ryan said nothing more—just that, quietly.
He'd met the boy once. His will and ambition were worthy of the future the Empire had in store for him.
Camille smirked.
"Ah, the arrogance of Noxus. But it's hard not to admire it."
With a soft laugh, she turned, leaped from the tower, and vanished into the distance.
Ryan allowed himself a faint smile and returned to the student dossiers in his hands.
The Noxian spirit never failed to captivate—even now.
With the Empire once again victorious, the will of its people leaned ever more toward it.
The Empire continued to expand, conquer, claim, and redistribute. But with the front lines paused, many now found themselves restless.
In Noxus, restlessness could only be tamed one way:
Prove your strength.
The wars ahead would be fiercer. Glory would come at higher costs.
Academy of War was the path forward—the only way now is to grow strong enough to claim those costs.
Ryan stood and walked to the window of the tower office, overlooking the academy below, already sprawling enough to be mistaken for a small city.
In time, Noxians would learn to crave more than just war.
But one thing would never change:
Only strength endures. Strength will always be the Empire's truest purpose.
Boom. Boom.
There was a soft knock on the door.