The noonday sun hung over Noxus, casting its harsh light over the Immortal Bastion, though much of it lay in the shadow of the Floating Castle above.
In the outer city streets, three figures moved steadily down the center of the road, floating above the ground.
Two hovered purely through magic, while the pink-haired girl glided on a glowing stage beneath her feet.
Whenever Noxians caught sight of the trio, they paused to show their respect in their way, regardless of their region or background.
Seraphine floated ahead with a bright smile, her voice cheerful as she called back to the man and woman behind her.
"Teachers, you've both been studying hard—you deserve a break!
There's an amazing match in the arena today: Ekko versus Jinx!"
"Two weaklings fighting?" Syndra raised an eyebrow, her tone laced with skepticism.
She found the idea beneath her, but still followed quietly behind Ryan.
Although Seraphine couldn't hear Syndra's thoughts, she quickly added:
"They're young, yes—but the fights are exciting. A lot of people in the Immortal Bastion admire them!"
Seraphine wasn't just idling—tomorrow was her first practical class.
The theory she could handle easily, and guiding others came naturally to her.
But practice was different.
Last time, she'd only demonstrated a basic first-order rune spell.
This time, she'd need to show something far more powerful.
Her teacher was a Ninth-Order Rune Mage—there was no room for mediocrity.
"Teacher, what do you think?" she asked, looking to Ryan for support.
"Let's go," Ryan replied with a slight nod.
"I haven't taken a break in quite a while."
His rune research and celestial experiments were nearing completion.
All that remained was real combat testing.
Under the respectful guidance of the arena's coordinator, the group made their way through a private passage to the high platform overlooking the entire arena.
In the Noxian Grand Arena, there were no hidden VIP boxes.
True Noxians did not shy away from being seen.
"Wow…"
The crowd fell silent when they spotted the man and woman on the high platform.
This was the Great Arena—only those of the highest standing sat above the bloodstained sands.
They didn't recognize the woman but would never forget the man.
Ryan Meredith—who stood in the skies the day the Floating Castle first appeared—was the embodiment of Noxus's glory, authority, and arcane might.
As one, the crowd saluted him in their ways, expressions of respect rippling through the stands.
Only after Ryan nodded in acknowledgment did the noise return, and the arena buzzed once more with excitement.
"Your reputation is something else, teacher..." Seraphine murmured, her feet swinging gently off the edge of her floating stage.
Her eyes sparkled with admiration—and envy.
Even a plain stone seat on this platform was a symbol of Noxus's approval.
And she didn't have one yet.
"As long as you show your strength and contribute to the empire," Ryan said calmly.
"You'll earn your place here—and the respect that comes with it."
"That won't happen until I finish my gift for the empire..." Seraphine pouted.
"And that's still a long way off."
She wasn't like Orianna—or her two teachers—who could work without sleep for days chasing a single idea.
She didn't even know where either of her teachers slept.
Any time she searched for them, they were either buried in the top floor of the Mage Tower's library or locked in their labs.
She couldn't help but admire that kind of focus. Ten hours of study left her exhausted.
By then, her eyelids would be at war, and she could barely keep herself awake.
"Your talent isn't just singing," Ryan said, his eyes drifting down to the arena floor where the fight was about to begin.
"It's expression. Learn how to use it."
"Expression... I get it... and kind of don't."
Seraphine tilted her head, deep in thought.
It was like a little tale of inspiration was dancing in her mind. She could almost catch it—but whenever she reached out, it slipped away.
The feeling of an idea slipping just out of reach left Seraphine frustrated.
After a few more moments of fruitless thought, she gave up with a sigh.
It wasn't the priority right now—her main goal today was to help her two teachers relax and enjoy themselves.
"Draven isn't here?"
Ryan turned to the arena manager beside him.
This arena doubled as both a battlefield for glory and a place for public executions—an embodiment of Noxian philosophy.
Draven, the flamboyant executioner, often lingered here when he wasn't needed at the academy.
"Lord Executioner went to pick up a visiting professor from Piltover," the manager replied respectfully.
"He should be back in time to catch the main fight."
"Professor from Piltover... please don't let it be him," Seraphine muttered, clearly uneasy.
Ryan didn't catch her words—he was already shifting his attention.
His gaze turned to Syndra as he asked casually, "What do you think of this place?"
Syndra, clad in a sleek black robe, silver hair cascading like a waterfall over her shoulders, barely glanced his way.
Her dark eyes were fixed on the arena below, lips curled slightly in disapproval.
"Weak," she said flatly.
"Draven will call in stronger fighters later," Ryan assured her.
"They should be worth watching."
"They'd better be," Syndra replied, resting her chin on her hand, bored.
The clashing below held little interest for her—magicless brute violence was beneath her.
Seraphine, listening from nearby, couldn't help but pout.
She'd seen it for a while now—her teachers only cared about magic!
There were so many fun things in life, and today, she was determined to make them enjoy something outside of spellwork and research.
Down in the arena, the pace of the fight picked up. Both gladiators moved with startling speed and power.
Neither held anything back. Each was willing to risk injury to outperform the other, seeking glory in the eyes of those watching from above.
After all, legends were watching.
Being recognized by figures like Ryan or Syndra would be the highest honor.
As long as they didn't die, missing limbs were a minor issue.
The Academy had long since begun outfitting veteran fighters with advanced mechanical prosthetics—customized for their users and refined to complement their physical abilities.
Stronger warriors received limbs forged from high-tier materials, designed for function and combat excellence.
But these prosthetics weren't given freely.
Before earning them outright, recipients were bound by duty—required to serve the empire, either by returning to the front lines or by contributing in other public roles.
Once enough merit points were earned, not only did the obligations end, but the accrued points could be exchanged for other imperial benefits.
Everyone understood: it was only a matter of time before these enhancements moved from veterans to the general population.
In the arena, recognition was everything. A gladiator only had meaning if someone cared enough to watch.
The greatest gladiator in Noxian history had been Viscero—a title given only to the strongest in the arena.
After retiring from the sands, he reclaimed his true name—Xin Zhao—and carved a new legend.
Now, he served as a lieutenant general in the Trifarian Legion.
For the fighters below, perhaps such a future wasn't impossible.
"RAAHH!"
The sword-wielding gladiator let out a wild roar, his massive blade whipping the air with enough force to kick up wind.
He pressed forward with relentless strikes against his opponent, a stocky man wielding a broad axe.
The axe-bearer didn't flinch. He met each attack with savage swings of his own.
The sound of metal crashing against metal echoed through the arena, and blood spattered across the sand.
Both men fought like wild beasts, driven by instinct and bloodlust.
There was no retreat in either of them.
"You've been here before, haven't you?"
Syndra's voice broke the tension.
She turned to Ryan with a rare flicker of curiosity as she watched the two men below battle with reckless abandon.
"You were a gladiator?"
Seraphine looked at Ryan, surprised.
To her, he had always been the image of a composed scholar-mage—someone far removed from the chaos of the arena.