What happened earlier didn't affect the Immortal Bastion's interior. Logan figured there were two reasons.
First: anyone Poli could invite to today's banquet—nine out of ten of them were connected to LeBlanc in some way.
Second: Swain. This banquet was basically LeBlanc waving in Swain's face and saying, "I'm going to cause trouble." So how could Swain possibly not prepare?
So as Logan followed Katarina down the street, there were practically no Noxians in sight.
"Logan… thank you for stepping in and helping me." Katarina, who'd been quiet up front the whole time, suddenly spoke. She tilted her head toward him as she walked. Her skirt parted with each step, revealing long pale legs. Her thighs were firm with muscle, her calves lean and balanced—healthy, athletic, beautiful.
Katarina was genuinely built as a blend of a fighter and a dancer.
Jinx had visible definition too—faint abs, clean lines—and Logan thought that kind of physique looked great.
But Katarina… whew. Logan had zero doubt she had a solid six-pack despite her pronounced curves, the kind that felt like stone. She was the kind of woman who made you feel safe just standing near her.
If this were an adventure-fantasy story, Katarina would absolutely be the tough, dependable boss-lady type.
"It wasn't necessary," Logan said, shaking his head as he kept pace beside her. "Even if I hadn't spoken up, this wouldn't have affected you."
He added, "Swain has been watching you the whole time."
Looking back now, Logan had helped expose Poli's trick, sure—but Swain had already been nearby. After gaining a demon's power, Runeterra was almost transparent to him.
Raum was a greater demon that ruled over secrets. With Raum, Swain stationed in Noxus could know what happened in the material realm day to day—and what might happen next.
Because Raum's ability wasn't just eavesdropping on secrets.
It stole secrets.
Yes—Raum often absorbed the souls of the dead, then pulled the secrets those souls carried. It didn't rely on something as small-time as "listening in" to obtain knowledge.
Swain's whole vibe as a mastermind behind the curtain was overwhelming.
"One thing doesn't cancel out another," Katarina said calmly, shaking her head. "If I get the chance, I'll pay it back. Just not now."
She said it with complete conviction. Logan saw that and didn't argue—he just smiled, which earned him a jealous squeeze as Jinx wrapped both hands around his arm and clung harder.
After another ten minutes under Katarina's guidance, Logan and the others finally reached the true Immortal Bastion.
The place Logan had stayed earlier was part of the district that had grown around the massive black fortress. Maybe because Noxus had expanded and its territory had become so vast, they'd simply pulled the surrounding lands into the same name and called the whole region "the Immortal Bastion."
"Please come this way, Councilor Logan. Grand General Swain is waiting for you in his study." The moment they reached the black fortress's main gate, two tall Noxian soldiers in red armor approached.
They dipped their heads slightly, respect in their voices.
"Then what about me?" Katarina asked.
"Ms. Katarina, Grand General Swain asks that you return for now. He'll contact you later," the soldier on the left replied.
Katarina put one hand on her hip and gave a breezy grin. "All right. I'll leave first, then."
She nodded once to Logan and turned down a different path.
"This way, please."
Five minutes later, after passing through the castle's grand hall, Logan entered an enormous study.
Calling it a "study" felt wrong. It was more like a library—hundreds of shelves, each packed with rows of old, weathered books.
In one corner, a man in a black wool cloak stood with neatly combed white hair. A black-and-red raven perched on his shoulder. He held a book in one hand, head lowered as he read in silence.
"Grand General. Councilor Logan has arrived."
"Mm. I know."
Swain's fingers shifted. He closed the book and slid it back into the shelf.
The two soldiers bowed and withdrew from Swain's study. Swain turned and faced Logan.
His eyes evaluated Logan as he stepped forward, spine straight, stride steady.
"I'm pleased to meet you, Zaun's ruler."
He extended his hand.
Logan reached out and clasped it. "I'm pleased to meet you as well, Grand General of Noxus."
Swain paused for the briefest moment, then smiled faintly. He withdrew his only hand and said, "Come, Logan. Silco. And… Mel. Let's talk over here."
"As for Mr. Talis and Ms. Jinx, I suggest you read. The topics we'll discuss won't interest you."
"Who are you to act like you know me?" Jinx snapped, bristling instantly.
Swain didn't look surprised by her sudden hostility. He simply said, calm as ever, "Logan. Come."
Logan sighed. "Yeah. Jinx, go read."
"Fine! I'll read!" Jinx muttered and stomped off.
Jayce followed right away. The moment he walked into this library, he'd already looked like he might burst—practically vibrating with excitement.
Because for a scientist, what could possibly be more thrilling than brand-new knowledge?
Logan went along with Swain's suggestion for a reason—a little "inside joke" he knew about.
In the game, Swain had a voice line: "Many faces faded in the fire… all her fault."
Back when that line first appeared, plenty of fans assumed it was referencing Annie. But after Arcane came out, people realized it was actually an Easter egg between Swain and Jinx.
So Jinx wasn't wrong—Swain really did understand people from the Twin Cities.
He understood Jayce. Understood Jinx. Understood Mel. Understood Silco. He even understood Sevika.
But Swain couldn't understand Logan.
That was one reason he hadn't wanted direct contact. Except at Poli's banquet, Logan called out LeBlanc by name—and pointed out Swain's presence.
After that, Swain didn't get to avoid Logan anymore.
At a long table in the study, Swain had already prepared several chairs. Once they sat, Swain picked up a silver teapot and began pouring tea for them.
"Where's your demon arm?" Logan asked curiously.
Swain didn't react at all. His hand remained steady as he poured. "Most of the time, I dislike using that ability. It distracts me."
He placed the teapot down and said evenly, "This country needs me at every moment."
Logan nodded, studied Swain for a beat, then asked, "Aren't you curious how I knew?"
Swain finished pouring tea. "You had your encounter with fate. I had mine. Just as LeBlanc said—you appear in another world from time to time."
Mel held her delicate teacup, looking from Logan to Swain, curiosity burning in her eyes.
She'd suspected it too. She'd even wondered if Janna was involved. Once, Janna had said something in front of Mel—"Logan's gone again."
The funny part was that Logan had been sitting right there. Maybe no one else heard Janna clearly, or maybe they didn't take it seriously.
But Mel remembered.
Now, hearing Swain confirm it, she thought: so it really is true.
And honestly, Mel was happy.
Because if Logan was strong—if Logan had secrets—then the Twin Cities would grow stronger too.
Piltover and Zaun were tied together now. There was no separating them.
Swain sat and took a sip of tea. Then he looked directly at Logan and asked, "How do you view what LeBlanc has done?"
"You mean Mordekaiser?"
Swain nodded.
Logan thought for a moment, then met Swain's eyes. "Mordekaiser is a massive problem. But Swain—this problem isn't only LeBlanc's. It's yours. It's mine. It's everyone's."
Swain bringing this up meant Logan had to answer carefully.
This affected the future relationship between the Twin Cities and Noxus. Logan had never treated Swain as an enemy—because the real threats were bigger and outside.
Mordekaiser. Viego. Aspects. The Void.
All the disasters beyond the Twin Cities had taught Logan one thing: Runeterra couldn't afford to waste itself on internal conflict.
Technology increased productivity. Noxus had fought endless wars because it was poor. Fine—poor is manageable. You have land. Lots of it.
Scientists from the Twin Cities could help Noxus improve farmland and infrastructure, enough that Noxus could live without having to survive by constant conquest.
Logan didn't believe every Noxian was born a warmonger. And after being shaped—sometimes unwillingly—by Silco's teachings, Logan understood something else:
The people shouting loudest about "glory" and "for the nation" were often just predators at the top, profiting off war.
Ordinary people didn't want glory.
They wanted safety and stability.
"Every Noxian is warlike?"
No. They were starving, and killing was how they got fed.
"Why?" Swain asked, expression unchanged.
"Don't play dumb," Logan said, eyes narrowing. "If Mordekaiser returns to Runeterra, the first thing he'll destroy won't be LeBlanc."
"It'll be Noxus."
Swain's gaze sharpened slightly.
"Or what—would you hand Noxus to him?" Logan pressed. "Let him smash it into ruin and turn every Noxian into his army in the death realm?"
If Mordekaiser broke free, he really wouldn't necessarily go after LeBlanc first.
LeBlanc was brilliant and terrifying—but for reasons nobody could quite explain, her plans had a habit of failing, or creating a pile of new enemies even when they "succeeded."
That contradiction was exactly why people joked about her being a beautiful idiot.
She stirred up everything, collected enemies like trophies. The contrast was almost comical.
And Mordekaiser was the same kind of story.
At first glance, it looked like LeBlanc "won" by sealing him away—but in reality, Mordekaiser had allowed himself to be sealed.
Maybe LeBlanc knew that too, but in the moment she could only play along.
And the result was Mordekaiser growing stronger and stronger, to the point that he'd become a ruler of the death realm.
When he returned, he might not prioritize LeBlanc at all.
He might slaughter Noxus first—turning everyone into bound dead under his hammer.
"No," Swain said, shaking his head.
Logan smiled slightly. "Right. So you, me, and LeBlanc can cooperate."
"You want to drag LeBlanc into the open and force her to work with you to stabilize Noxus, don't you?" Logan continued. "Then start with Mordekaiser. I can travel between worlds whenever I want."
"You saw it earlier—LeBlanc tried to recruit me. She needs my power. So let you take the lead. I'll handle the invitation. We build an alliance—Noxus and the Twin Cities. What do you think?"
Logan spoke fast, a little too energized, and didn't notice the brief flicker of doubt in Swain's eyes.
"In that other world…" Swain asked cautiously, "did you gain the ability to see the future?"
Swain's control over the bigger picture came mostly from his own intelligence.
Raum couldn't predict the future—it only gave Swain access to hidden truths and people's secrets, and Swain used those to infer what might happen.
A person's habits, personality, and environment shaped their likely outcomes.
Swain prepared, built contingencies, planned ahead—
But compared to true foresight, it suddenly sounded small.
"Huh?" Logan blinked, confused. "No. Why would you ask that?"
Swain frowned. "Then how did you guess my intentions?"
Logan went still.
Yeah… he'd talked too much.
But lying to someone like Swain was pointless. The best move was to slip sideways.
So Logan immediately said, "That doesn't matter. What matters is—Swain, what do you think of my idea?"
Swain rubbed his chin and fell silent.
Silco cleared his throat softly. "Working with Zaun and Piltover can change Noxus."
Mel added, "Noxus needs food. Zaun doesn't lack it now. The sea has more food than you can count. Noxus can trade manpower and minerals for it."
"Swain," Mel finished, "the enemy of your enemy is your friend. Isn't that right?"
Swain finally spoke, his voice cool and decisive. "Fine. You'll handle inviting LeBlanc. Her people will approach you more than once—leave that to you."
"If LeBlanc agrees, then in the future, Noxus will stand as an ally of the Twin Cities. We'll exchange whatever resources each side needs."
Logan's eyes lit up. "Then, Swain… can I make one request in advance?"
"Go on."
"Give me the runesteel forging method."
Swain smiled. "Trade me Hextech for it."
"…Never mind." Logan shook his head instantly.
Runesteel was powerful, sure. But compared to the Twin Cities' Hextech—maybe runic craft had the higher floor right now, but in the long run, Jayce's Hextech would reach higher.
Heimerdinger's Hextech T-Rex alone proved that.
Swain chuckled. "If you won't trade Hextech, there's another way."
Runic craft was strong, but Swain understood something: as more talent gathered in the Twin Cities, their mastery of runes would only grow. Hextech was already a variation of runic craft. Even if Noxus refused to share runic forging methods, the Twin Cities would eventually develop it on their own.
So it was better to trade it for a favor.
Of course, Swain wasn't going to lose on the deal.
"What is it?" Logan asked.
Swain pulled out a map from beneath the table, and everyone stood and leaned in.
Silco glanced over it. "This is… the Freljord?"
"Logan," Swain said, looking at him, "someone important to my plan is trapped in the Freljord. His name is Darius. He's a crucial piece—no, now he's a crucial piece of our plan."
"So go. Help me rescue Darius from the Freljordians. Once you succeed, I'll give you the runic forging methods."
Logan stared at him.
"…Me? Rescue that kill-stealing mutt?"
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