The Glory of Noxus

The empty and desolate plains of the underworld.

Pale bones are scattered on the earth like stars, and countless souls are wandering aimlessly.

Their wails and screams weave an eternal elegy, echoing over the silent and empty plain.

And in the center of the plain, a underworld territory stands alone and proudly above the vast underworld plain.

Mitna Lachen!

This is the name of the underworld territory.

From a distance, majestic cities stand in the center of the plain like black flags fluttering in the wind.

These black flags are connected together to draw a picture with thick ink splashes.

Whoops! Whoops!

The cold wind from the underworld blew across the plain, carrying with it a hint of chill and desolate sorrow.

Finally, it stopped quietly in front of the black wall of an ancient city and disappeared into thin air.

This city is the core protected by many cities, the symbol of power in this plain, and the destination of all wandering souls.

The towering walls surrounding the city pierce through the thick and dense fog and reach into the sky, displaying an indescribable grandeur.

After looking beyond the city walls, what comes into view are many buildings similar to the Noxian style.

These buildings are neatly distributed on both sides of the street, making the originally narrow street appear even narrower.

However, this narrowness does not make people feel oppressive, but instead adds solemnity and heaviness to the building complex.

Among them, the most eye-catching is undoubtedly the black tower standing in the center of the city.

This black tower is like a sharp sword, piercing the sky, as if declaring its supreme power and majesty to all souls.

The body of the Black Tower is made of cast steel, stacked up like scales, forming a unique appearance.

These steels reflected hazy colors under the dim light of the underworld.

The black tower was surrounded by pitch-black fog, which slowly seeped into the black iron and merged with the black tower.

The overflowing part is like a struggling ghost, sometimes condensing into strange shapes, and sometimes dissipating into the air.

And at the top of the black tower, a tall figure formed by dark green underworld energy was overlooking the city below.

He raised his fist, and the energy of the dead surged, reflecting the terrain of the plain.

"My underworld is finally built!"

Once upon a time, he stood here, a mortal soul facing utter annihilation.

And now, the kingdom he had built with his own hands spread out before his eyes, across the plains.

He walked down the black tower contentedly, ready to return to his fortress.

Every piece of steel under your feet was made by him.

The sturdy battlements and ramparts were all fashioned with cruel magic and iron will.

Just as the dark green figure was about to leave the black tower, it seemed to sense a familiar energy fluctuation.

He turned and looked towards the black tower, an inexplicable light flashing in his dark eyes.

"Something like my energy?"

The dark green figure became puzzled and immediately took a step forward and entered the black tower.

The heavy iron door was pushed open, and a lot of violent black fog surged out, like a roaring and bloodthirsty beast, attacking the tower.

But the walls were engraved with densely packed tadpole-like runes, and despite the impact of the black fog, the tower remained motionless.

Hearing the unfamiliar footsteps, the rolling black fog immediately changed direction, making a deafening roar and rushing towards the source.

However, when they rushed to the dark green figure, they suddenly became quiet.

After looking at the calming violent black fog, a dark green figure walked along the steel steps and came to the central area of ​​the tower.

In the empty hall, a rotating energy vortex was suspended above the rune array, emitting terrifying fluctuations.

And in the middle of the energy vortex, there is a lifeless, hazy suit of armor, floating up and down.

It looks like the armor is not in the underworld, but is imprisoned here by strange means.

The dark green figure ignored the restrictions of the surrounding rune array and walked directly towards the hazy armor.

He stretched out his hand and gently touched the surface of the armor, as if he was sensing another world.

All of a sudden!

The rolling black fog in the black tower was out of control, as if stimulated by something, and turned into endless huge waves, hitting the tower.

However, all to no avail.

Under the conscious control of the dark green figure, endless black fog poured into the hazy armor.

Then, his consciousness passed through the hazy armor, left the underworld, and returned to the material realm of Valoran.

"An unfamiliar smell!"

At the deepest part of the shaft, within the surging vortex of energy, a dark green glow lit up as if a sleeping suit of underworld armor was in place.

"Is it my former skull?"

This was the name he used when he died for the first time, and people called him.

Sarn Uzur!

"A memory too old!"

A murmured voice sounded, and many memories filled his deep green eyes.

In the last era, he wreaked havoc on the Valoran continent as Tharn Uzul, cleansing all the tribes and villages that stood in his way.

With blood and death, he built his own empire.

When he was about to die, he was very happy, because he was sure that his deeds in his lifetime had qualified him to be forever on the same level as God in the Hall of Bones.

But after his death, what awaited him was not the glory of becoming a god or a magnificent palace.

Sarn Uzul stood on the empty and silent underworld plain, with only chaotic whispers lingering in his ears and ghostly mist wrapped around his body.

I am dead!

The thought passed through his mind like a whisper on the wind.

He gradually understood the reality, but no sadness welled up in his heart.

Because, that's exactly what he wanted.

Saan Uzul looked into the distance, looking for the road leading to the Hall of Bones, looking for the servants who would come to welcome him into eternity.

He became more and more excited at the thought of meeting all the great conquerors who had come before him.

However, as far as the eye can see, there is nothing but fog.

Sane Uzur took a step forward.

He looked down at his feet in surprise. Rough sand was floating under his feet. In the distance, he could hear the wailing of souls, but it was so faint that no words could be heard.

Unreasonable!

He strode towards the desolate underworld plain before him, determined to find the truth.

The passage of time is incalculable.

Confusion gathered into doubt, doubt ignited Saan Uzul's anger, and anger ignited the final rage.

No!

Nothing at all!

In this plain, there is only a dry sea of ​​sand stretching endlessly.

The wailing voices of the soul kept whispering, scratching at his mind and making him irritable and crazy.

The fog remained constant, like a permanent shroud that enveloped all who came.

Saan Uzul looked up at the sky, his heart filled with anger.

"Did the priests deceive me?"

"Or are they all false prophets, a bunch of bluff fools who preach empty superstition with fake knowledge?"

"Or maybe the ancestors made a terrible mistake in their judgment and didn't accept me into the temple?"

These questions once gnawed at Saan Uzul's heart.

But it doesn't matter anymore.

He understood that nothing mattered anymore except the pressing facts before him.

There was nothing on the vast plain, only nothingness, no reward, no promise.

He slowly accepted the reality.

The shadow of despair followed Tharn Uzul, hungry to devour him.

But he was Tharn Uzul, conqueror of the wilderness, lord of the tribe.

He established an unprecedentedly great empire in the material realm of the Valoran continent.

During his lifetime, he overcame all difficulties and dealt with all enemies who angered him with his own will and ambition.

Death is no exception!

Sarn Uzul stood on a sand dune on the plain, looked up at the black mist in the sky, and made his own vow.

If the world of the dead doesn't have the kingdom I'm determined to conquer

I'll build it myself!

"It's been so long since I made that vow that I can't even remember it anymore!"

His deep green eyes ignored the miasma-filled shaft and looked toward the dark night of Valoran, an evil pride rising in his heart.

"But soon, I will become the master of the underworld"

Where there was nothing, he created his own world—

A kingdom where all souls will dwell forever and never fade away.

As for his name.

After he was resurrected, he felt that his previous name was no longer appropriate.

After much consideration, he finally gave himself a name from the Ouchen language.

And in front of the name, countless enemies and his followers added the prefix of hero to it.

Iron-armored Wraith Mordekaiser!

Underground castle.

Above the dome where tremendous energy is surging.

"This is the will of the Spider God, Vile Maw, to descend. It will be an interesting battle!"

On Elise's spider back, Mordekaiser's separated consciousness observed the horrific battle on the dome through his skull.

"His opponent is also not simple. He is a Star Spirit Bearer and has different Star Spirit powers in his body."

As his consciousness moved, all the scenes in the underground space came into his mind.

"Demon barrier, interesting. I once had two demon pets."

"It looks like the battle is very intense, there are a lot of demonic forces present, and there is also a mortal whose body has merged with that of a demon."

"Hmm? And you, LeBlanc!"

Mordekaiser noticed the Pale Lady engaging Swain in combat, a cold look etched across her skull.

LeBlanc was once one of the core members around him and possessed unique magical skills.

In the plan he secretly arranged, Leblanc actually betrayed him.

Tyranny only makes enemies!

In this name, LeBlanc united the forces of the Noxian tribe and defeated Mordekaiser, severing the connection between his soul and armor.

Then, this empty shell was sealed deep in the shaft.

Just like that, Mordekaiser was banished from the material realm, which was in line with his plan and a crucial step.

Although power and scheming made Mordekaiser glorious for a time, he knew that a greater destiny than the Hall of Bones awaited him.

In the once empty wasteland, the souls of all those who died under his tyrannical rule are waiting quietly.

The undead souls eroded by dark sorcery will not dissipate, and the most powerful souls among them become his devout immortal army, controlled by his will.

The weak also have their own tasks.

"It was your betrayal that created my underworld empire!" Modkaiser thought of the empire he built in the underworld.

Compared to the material and spiritual realms of the Valoran continent.

The underworld is located near the spiritual realm and houses the dead souls of the Valoran continent.

Mordekaiser desires to master all forbidden knowledge of the soul and death, and to fully understand the material realm.

Or any field.

"Hey, did you notice me?"

Modkaiser did not stop, his separated consciousness left the black skull, blended into the surging energy aftermath, and disappeared into the underground castle.

At this moment, Iris seemed to realize something and looked at the black skull on the spider's legs, wondering if it was an illusion.

She felt that the skull had an inexplicable power reviving, but when her spirit sank into it, only the remaining power of the sacrifice was left.

The capital of Noxus.

The blood color stained the dark night sky.

This prosperous city fell into endless killing and chaos overnight.

The storm of the coup was set off by the Black Rose, who had been secretly planning for a long time in an attempt to subvert the existing order.

But thanks to Swain's foresight, they were trapped.

The forces of the battle group led by Katarina's Kled surrounded from all directions and strangled the power of the Black Rose.

Especially the aristocratic area.

This is the densely populated area where Black Rose members were born, and it has become the place where the fighting is most intense.

The shouts of killing and the cries of pain that resounded through the sky were heard throughout the majestic castles.

During this bloodbath, Modkaiser's consciousness floated above the night sky, overlooking the battlefield below.

He sniffed the strong smell of blood in the air and looked intoxicated.

“What a wonderful breath!”

Mordekaiser missed the war and the killing so much.

He gradually realized that only by regaining control of the empire could he satisfy his deepest desires.

Then he slowly left the castle, passed the iron gate inside the city, passed the formation of the Trifarii Legion, and passed Katarina.

Enter the Immortal Bastion.

Mordekaiser looked at everything familiar and walked towards the place where his throne had been when he was alive.

This was the fortress he built before establishing his empire, and it was the beginning of everything for him.

He walked up the triumphal staircase, passed through the narrow corridor, and finally came to the audience hall.

The spacious audience hall was empty except for the dim candlelight that drew Modkaiser's attention to the huge throne above.

There was no hesitation.

Mordekaiser climbed the steps and gazed at his throne.

At the same time, he also noticed the many colorful flags standing on both sides of the throne.

“Is this the tribe that submitted to the power of the Empire?” Modkaiser whispered softly.

Faintly, he seemed to hear countless noisy noises surrounding him, the wails of souls rising and falling, weaving together a chorus of evil pain.

They are the souls that died during the conquest of the Noxian Empire.

But these souls were too ordinary to deserve his attention.

After all, all qualified souls were already on standby in the hall, and no one dared to speak.

That's the way it should be.

Mordekaiser reached out and touched the cold armrest of the throne, an evil smile appearing on his face.

Then he slowly sat on it.