In the Administration department, Swain's meticulous figure was nowhere to be seen on the podium.
In his place stood a six-eyed raven.
The bird's beak opened and closed as a low, commanding voice emerged:
"Noxus must establish a complete system of thought and governance, rebuilding itself through law, administration, morality, and the people's welfare."
"Under the Council's rule, there's currently one administrator for every hundred citizens. Is that ratio too high?"
A middle-aged man in aristocratic garb shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
The Administration department boasted the highest average age among Noxian institutions.
It was practically a finishing school for the Empire's future leaders.
All local administrators had to pass through this academy before advancing further within Noxus.
Failure meant permanent exile from the Empire's core power structure.
"The issue is mediocrity, Harvey," the raven responded coldly.
"Only by ensuring that every citizen quickly benefits from the Empire can we ensure their loyalty. And no, that ratio is not too high."
"Can anyone offer Harvey a method for reaching this standard efficiently?"
The raven's six eyes swept across the room.
"Your Excellency, we could assign military veterans as administrative personnel. Their loyalty and patriotism are beyond question," a stern young man offered.
"James, that's an excellent suggestion," the raven nodded.
"Veterans are already included in the recruitment criteria. Their desire to serve remains strong."
"Any further suggestions? Your performance here influences how the Empire evaluates you."
As the raven's gaze passed over them, many students straightened their backs.
Listening carefully, its eyes reflected a rare trace of approval.
"I propose cross-regional administration," said a burly man with a strong northern accent.
"Have Vastaya oversee Shurima, and Shurimans manage Freljordian territories."
His suggestion stirred murmurs throughout the room. Disapproval was written on many faces.
This kind of integration was unprecedented in Noxus.
The Empire's legions operated with relative independence, but civilian administration had never attempted such intermixing.
Such a change could have far-reaching implications.
"Quetta, explain your reasoning," the raven said without dismissing the idea.
"Ah, this idea came from my boy. He said he wants to live in Shurima—it's warmer than our homeland," Quetta said, half-grumbling.
Laughter erupted around the room.
Everyone knew that the Freljord was locked in arctic cold while Shurima burned under relentless sun.
"He's just a kid," Quetta muttered, "He doesn't know what that heat really feels like. We told him it's warm and now he's obsessed with moving there."
"That's nothing," another man chuckled. He was tall, dark-skinned, and wore a Shuriman veil.
"My daughter wants to visit the Freljord—to play in the snow."
"Shaxiu, let Quetta finish," the raven interrupted calmly.
"At your command, Grand General," Shaxiu replied, quickly stifling his amusement.
Noticing Swain's interest, many in the room were visibly surprised.
Encouraged, Quetta continued, "So I thought—maybe our kids romanticize other places because they don't know what it's really like. If they experienced the hardships of other regions firsthand, they might appreciate home more."
Some students nodded thoughtfully at his blunt reasoning.
"A very good point. Does anyone wish to expand on it?" the raven asked, tone neutral.
A man in a military uniform spoke up.
"We could divide the Empire's territories into individual political districts. Young officials would rotate between them—no more than one or two years in each—before becoming eligible for core administrative roles."
"Horgus, would you be suggesting this if your son hadn't joined the military?" asked Harvey, the nobleman from earlier.
"I have several relatives interested in administration," Horgus replied flatly.
"The strength of Noxus comes first." He didn't hesitate to jab back.
"Harvey, if a noble-born son can't earn a name for himself, maybe he should've stayed in his mother's womb."
The room broke out in laughter.
These were the top students of Noxus's first administrative academy—each already managing critical affairs across the Immortal Bastion and surrounding territories.
Some had risen to govern entire provinces.
Their children were expected to be stronger than others—this was the burden they were born to carry.
"Enough, Horgus. Your suggestion is valid. It will be added to the administrative plan," the raven declared, cutting off further debate.
"Veterans will serve their homelands. Promotion opportunities will be limited—but young officials who leave their hometowns to understand the people's struggles will find many paths open to them, so long as they have the talent."
The Administration Department's so-called "classes" were more like strategy sessions led by Swain himself.
It was less teaching and more questioning—evaluating, probing, and eliminating those unfit to serve.
Each session served the Empire. Swain favored an idea Ryan had once proposed: focus everyone's minds on one problem, and you might uncover solutions no single person could imagine alone.
"The next topic—how should we improve the merit point system?"
A wave of discussion spread across the room. One after another, practical ideas were raised, debated, and recorded by Swain.
As each department showcased its identity, the Hextech Department was no exception.
The five other departments had their own methods of performance:
The History Department presented the culture of cooking and wine.
The Warfare Department held ring-style combat competitions.
The Magic Department put on magical demonstrations.
The Engineering Department focused on solo forging.
The Administration Department held high-level political debates.
-------------
In the Hextech Department, competition reigned.
"This Mercury Hammer is my own design," Jayce declared, lifting his weapon proudly.
Under the astonished gaze of the students, a blast of energy shot from the hammer and struck a mid-tier training dummy with a loud boom.
"Attack strength: Medium."
Jayce stood tall, hammer over his shoulder, eyes turning toward Viktor across the platform.
Viktor didn't respond. He simply stepped forward and spoke evenly:
"Hex Claw. Single-gem mode."
The mechanical claw on his shoulder lifted. Its hextech gem glowed softly.
Zzzip!
In a flash, a precision laser beam struck the distant dummy.
"Attack strength: Medium to High," the system intoned again.
Viktor frowned slightly. He pulled another hextech gem from his coat and slotted it into the device.
"Hex Claw. Dual-gem mode."
Hummm...
Both gems lit up simultaneously. Jayce's expression shifted as the claw discharged a much thicker, searing beam of energy.
The laser swept across a row of training dummies—cutting them cleanly in half.
Clatter! The halves fell to the ground, sparking. Static-laced audio flickered from the testing system:
"Damage exceeded threshold. Attack strength... unable to evaluate."
Jayce's jaw tightened. His pride cracked a little.
Two hex gems working in tandem—it wasn't just double the power. It was something else entirely.
He'd been left behind.
But… he wasn't done yet.
He had other innovations to show.