Reunited, the group of four set out for the Placidium.
The journey wasn't particularly long; since both Faen and Shen's group were practitioners, they rode hard.
Combined with the fact that Ionia was still at peace, the group quickly reached the Placidium from the banks of the Earp River where Faen had landed.
The Placidium, located in the Navori province, is the heart of this land and one of Ionia's most sacred places.
It draws scholars from across the seas to study in its ancient academies or meditate in its wild, magical gardens.
Because of this unique cultural status, the Placidium—though in Navori—is essentially independent: it is the Placidium of Ionia, not just the Placidium of Navori.
Upon returning, Faen didn't head to the Temple of the Long-Standing first.
Instead, he chose to visit his former place of study: Flower Valley.
Shen and Usan (Zed) didn't stop or question this request.
In Ionia, the tradition of respecting one's teacher is very strong.
Master Xynia's Flower Valley is a holy site for every Ionian "Rythmist."
For a wandering son like Faen, visiting his master the moment he returned was the most natural thing in the world.
In fact, after hearing Faen's request, Shen and Usan relaxed slightly.
At the very least, if he still respected his master, then even if Faen held negative views about Noxus, he wouldn't fall onto a path of obsessed evil.
The so-called Flower Valley was not a pure valley, but a temple situated in a valley filled with fragrant flowers and lush trees outside the Placidium.
Because of its specific field of study, it could also be called a "Sanctuary."
When Faen pushed open the gates of the Flower Valley temple, a group of people was practicing in the central courtyard.
They were mostly girls, moving in harmony to a melodious rhythm.
Before this, Riven had heard more than once that Faen studied "dance" before mastering his demonic power.
To be honest, Riven didn't quite understand Ionian dance, nor Faen's occasional remark that "in Ionia, dance and martial arts are the same."
Right now, she didn't know how much lethal power was hidden in the dance, but even a "rough" warrior like Riven could sense a breathtaking beauty in it.
It was early morning; the dim light of the sky spilled over the eaves of the ancient temple.
Mixed with the mist brought by the morning dew, the ancient courtyard was bathed in a pearlescent, hazy glow.
At that moment when the dew hung on the grass, yet to fall, the blue-purple sleeves of the youths sliced through the dense fog.
A black-haired girl stood in the center of the circle formed by her seniors.
Her eyelashes were dotted with tiny droplets of water; every blink sent ripples of light through the air.
This girl was none other than the one Faen recognized at first glance despite being gone for months—his "Junior Sister," and the future protagonist of the Battle of Navori, Irelia.
While Faen was musing, the girls' silk shoes stepped across the blue stones.
The night dew didn't scatter but instead mirrored their arches like silver platters holding jade pins.
A slightly more mature girl spun, her sleeves whipping around.
What she kicked up wasn't dust, but a thousand droplets of dew—these clear spheres held their perfect circular shape in the air, arranging themselves into a fleeting star map according to her dance.
Meanwhile, Irelia pulled at ribbons of smoke like strands of silk when she raised her hands.
When she bent her elbows, she kneaded the mist into blooming petals.
The airflow created by the sisters' shifting positions caused the white fog in the courtyard to swirl, forming a shimmering, iridescent film among the crowd.
It was as if invisible spirits were using the youths as shuttles and the morning mist as warp and woof to weave the clouds of the sky.
Even witnessing it for the first time, Riven couldn't help but hold her breath, her eyes filled with profound shock.
Beside her, Shen and Usan's eyes also reflected a deep surprise.
However, their surprises were different—Shen was relatively fine.
As the son of Great Master Kusho, he had received a high-level education and artistic exposure since childhood.
While the dance was exquisite, it wasn't the first he'd seen; he could even detect subtle disharmonies in the youths' rhythms.
Usan, on the other hand, was likely seeing a "Rythmist" dance for the first time; his eyes were full of wonder.
Currently, Usan was still young and focused on catching up to Shen's progress.
He didn't have Shen's luxury of time to appreciate art and beauty outside of his training.
As they were watching, a mature woman sitting on the platform noticed Faen and the others—or rather, she had known they were coming long before they reached the temple.
Now, as they entered, her gaze settled on Faen.
Feeling his teacher's gaze, Faen gave a slight nod.
The woman nodded back, tacitly remaining silent and forgoing conversation, waiting for Faen's junior disciples to finish their morning practice.
Before long, the early morning ritual dance neared its end.
As she finished her final movement, Irelia bowed low.
She wasn't bowing to question her teacher, but rather pressing the cinnabar mark on her forehead against the dew-soaked stone to offer sincere thanks to the invisible spirit of Flower Valley.
At that exact moment, all the suspended dew droplets fell simultaneously, producing a sound like a chorus of chimes.
The morning mist condensed into droplets that rolled into the grass, and the light dust began to dance in a chaotic pattern.
Only the sweat-dampened backs of the youths emitted wisps of white steam, revealing the immense physical and mental exertion required for such an "effortless" dance.
Having finished the silk dance, the still-youthful Irelia bowed slightly, her breathing somewhat hurried.
She looked toward her respected teacher, expecting the usual feedback on her technique.
But instead, she saw her teacher's eyes directed to the side.
This puzzled Irelia; in her memory, Master Xynia always provided her thoughts immediately after a review.
Why this time...?
Following her teacher's line of sight, she saw the figure of Faen.
Though his posture and presence had changed significantly during his absence, that unique aura and the set of his features still triggered a deep sense of familiarity.
A look of excitement instantly climbed onto her pretty face: "Senior Brother?!"
Seeing Irelia with her face full of excitement, Faen gave a light smile and beckoned her over. Hearing her words, Faen's other nominal junior brothers and sisters also cast their gazes toward him.
However, this time Faen did not interact with them much, because Master Xynia stood up immediately and said, "All of you disperse for now. I have words to speak with Faen."
Hearing Xynia's command, although the voices of those around them still held a trace of regret, they did not say anything more. They merely scattered playfully. At the end, Irelia gave a secret wink to Faen before leaving with two other girls.
Faen held a fair amount of respect for Xynia. There were many reasons for this—when he first arrived in this world, it wasn't as an adult, but with his body shrunk back to the size of an infant. Having been brought back to the temple by Xynia under those circumstances, Faen could be said to have cultivated diligently since childhood.
"Actually, given your ability and level, if you had let go of your obsession with Noxus earlier, you might have already been awarded the Master's armlets by now." Xynia looked at Faen, her gaze peaceful as she spoke: "And now that you have been gone for so long, perhaps you have gained new enlightenment?"
Ordinary people might not be able to tell, but as an Ionian Master Dancer, Xynia could feel that it wasn't just Faen's appearance and aura that had changed, but his projection within the Spirit Realm as well.
Although such changes in the Spirit Realm's projection were not as easily noticed as outward appearance, for Xynia, who had raised Faen with her own hands, it was not a particularly difficult thing to notice.
To this, Faen merely said with a gentle face, "It's coming soon. The scent of war is already right before us."
"Sigh..."
Hearing Faen's answer, Xynia rubbed her temples. She wasn't surprised by his response at all. Or rather, having watched Faen grow up, she had already begun trying to correct his views on the outside world over a decade ago—even prophecies themselves are not immutable. In Ionia's history over the past centuries, it had happened more than once that the Enlightened One, Karma, had caused a tragedy precisely by trying to prevent one from her prophecies. Unfortunately, Faen did not listen.
In contrast, Shen and Usan (Zed) on the side exchanged a surprised look, their eyes filled with deep shock—although they already knew Faen possessed impressive power, they were still unclear as to what stage he had reached on his own path of cultivation. According to what Xynia had just said, Faen had already reached the level of a Master, which truly felt incredible to the two of them.
One must understand that in Ionia, "Master" is the highest praise for one's achievements on a certain path of cultivation. For example, Shen's master, Great Master Kusho, reached the level of a Master in his understanding of the Kinkou Way. With a single thought, he could communicate with the energy of the Spirit Realm to attach it to armor and blades, resonating with the Ionian Spirits of Balance to better perceive the equilibrium between the two realms.
But the question was, how old was Kusho? And how old was Faen? Even if the Way of the Dancer might allow for faster progress in cultivation than the Kinkou Way, anyone called a Master must be able to resonate harmoniously with the countless spirits of nature. And in a merciful, peaceful Ionia, Faen's views on war clearly failed to meet the requirements of those spirits.
Perhaps noticing the confusion of Shen and Usan, Xynia spoke with a sense of lamentation: "I told you long ago that for the Ionia of today, the War Spirit has already vanished from this world. The spirits of both the Spirit Realm and the Material Realm are pursuing harmony, and having lost their origin, those negative consciousnesses related to war have been reduced to mere evil spirits..."
Hearing this, Shen and Usan immediately looked enlightened.
A Master needs to cultivate to a state where they can harmonize with the spirits, and Faen's pessimistic views on war clearly did not belong to the spirits of this era—at least, the War Spirit was long gone. To put it another way, Faen possessed extreme talent on the path of the War Spirit, but unfortunately, this era no longer had a War Spirit for him to resonate with.
"This is only temporary, because the malice in human nature will not disappear—that malice might be loathsome, but it remains a part of the human spirit."
In this regard, Faen had his own views. This didn't even have anything to do with Ashlesh in the Spirit Realm—Faen wanted to devour Ashlesh and become the new 'Ashlesh.' But that did not mean he had forgotten that his name was Faen. Quite the opposite, Faen knew very well that he was simply utilizing and using Ashlesh. Essentially, the power of Ashlesh he obtained later was no different from the resonance with the War Spirit he began cultivating as a child. They were both just a form of power, a type of tool. It was just that on the level of power, whether it was current strength or future potential, the power of Ashlesh was simply greater.
However, without the foundation laid by his cultivation of the War Spirit, Faen could not have so easily mastered Ashlesh's blessed curse, utilizing it and turning it against itself.
"The malice in human nature might be suppressed by kindness or dissolved by tolerance, but it will certainly not disappear."
Pausing for a moment, Faen added: "Rather, if the Spirit Realm, which reflects all soul thoughts and ideas, lacked a domain for the War Spirit, that would be the most terrifying thing of all, wouldn't it?"
While Faen discussed the profound philosophies of the Spirit Realm in the calmest of tones, his magic, hidden beneath his robes, transformed into a tangible giant hand that ravaged beneath Riven's skirt.
"Mgh... hah... ah..."
Riven's originally solemn face of a female warrior was now flushed with a large patch of depraved red due to extreme pleasure. Faen's magic not only maliciously kneaded her pair of plump "doves" that had swollen from her arousal, but a pillar of magic as solid as a physical object also forcibly rammed into her secret flower house, which wore no panties. With a loud squelch, it drove directly into the deepest part of her womb.
Under the dual stimulation of the Joy Factor and his magic, Riven's hands, which once held a sword, gripped her clothes tightly. Her long, firm legs shook violently like a female dog in heat.
"Smack... squelch..."
Within this sacred Flower Valley temple, extremely sticky, wet sounds emerged from the root of Riven's thighs. Her flower lips, already developed to the point of being overripe, were uncontrollably wide open, frantically spraying out scalding love juices. It slid down her inner thighs, soaking a large patch of the traditional Ionian blue-purple fabric into a suggestive dark watermark.
This extreme sense of immorality—where the Masters were discussing philosophy in a sacred temple while she was being toyed with by magic to the point of orgasming and leaking fluids—caused Riven's rationality to completely collapse. She even felt, in a morbid way, that the "undissolvable malice" Faen spoke of had currently transformed into the magical meat rod brutally impaling her womb, utterly crushing her dignity as a woman.
Hearing Faen's words, Xynia pursed her lips in silence. Her face, as bright and passionate as a flower, revealed a touch of helplessness.
"Sigh, I truly cannot convince you after all..."
Clearly, this was not the first time Xynia had felt such helplessness over this matter.
But just like before, facing Faen's counter-question, Xynia truly had nothing to say in response.
Thinking this, Xynia cast her gaze toward Shen and Usan, asking: "The two of you are disciples of the Kinkou Order, yes? What is your relationship with Great Master Kusho?"
"He is my Master," Shen said.
"He is his father and my Master," Usan said.
Hearing that Shen was the son of Great Master Kusho, a flash of surprise appeared in Xynia's eyes. After scrutinizing Shen for a moment, she nodded with a bit of recollection: "I see. I thought you looked familiar; so you are Kusho's son... Mmm, since you are disciples of Great Master Kusho, I need not worry then."
"I am not entirely certain, but to my knowledge, the Enlightened One, Karma, should know the whereabouts of the War Spirit. If you wish to make progress on this path, you might as well ask her when you visit the Placidium."