Arcane: Mage from Noxus

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As Ryan led Katarina into the banquet hall, all eyes immediately turned to them. The conversations among the nobles came to an abrupt halt as they raised their glasses in unison, offering a collective gesture of respect.

This banquet was originally organized on the Progress Day to raise funds for the Medarda family, who were deeply entrenched in their battles. But with Ryan's arrival, the original purpose seemed to fade into irrelevance. Now, the only priority was to welcome the esteemed Noxian emissary.

"Good afternoon, sir. You may call me Polpok, a loyal business partner of Noxus," one noble said eagerly.

"Good afternoon, Your Excellency. On behalf of the Kiramman family, I extend my sincerest apologies for the incident with the young lady earlier this morning," another chimed in hurriedly.

"Greetings, my lord," said a third, stepping forward.

"I am Stevan, head of the Ferros family. I have heard of your exploits during the Battle of Presidian. Your accomplishments are truly admirable."

One after another, the Piltovan nobles flocked around Ryan like bees to honey, their gazes warm with admiration—or opportunism.

Their words were polite, their smiles practiced, but Katarina could sense the artificiality in every gesture.

Ryan, however, didn't push them away as he might have in the past. Instead, he returned their greetings with a composed smile, carefully noting the names and faces of each noble.

After about half an hour of polite exchanges, Ryan finally managed to disentangle himself from the crowd. With a glass of wine in hand, he gently guided the visibly uneasy Katarina toward Mel.

"I hope my arrival didn't interfere with your plans today, Councilor Medarda," Ryan said, raising his glass slightly in a respectful gesture.

"The fundraising went smoothly," Mel replied, offering a poised smile.

"My mother taught me from a young age to keep all variables within my control." She clinked glasses with Ryan and downed her drink effortlessly.

"Do you truly believe you can control everything?" Katarina interjected, her tone sharp. It was clear she found this entire scenario grating.

To an assassin, being thrust into a social gathering like this was a kind of torture. The nobles' forced enthusiasm and hollow words irritated her.

It wasn't nearly as straightforward as driving a blade into a target—something far more within her realm of comfort and expertise.

Mel turned her attention to Katarina, her gaze assessing. A faint smirk played on her lips.

"Miss Du Couteau, I don't aim to control everything. Nor could I. I merely need to understand today's key player."

"The key player? Lord Meredith?" Katarina echoed, her confusion evident. Ryan didn't strike her as someone who could be easily manipulated by Mel's games.

"His presence here means we are not enemies," Mel explained smoothly.

"I am no Noxian, but my mother is. And from what I understand, Your Excellency and my mother have shared a cordial relationship."

"I've only met General Medarda a handful of times," Ryan admitted, swirling his wine.

"But my former commander held her in high regard. Now that your family faces difficulties, I believe it's only right to offer my assistance, should I be able to."

Ryan couldn't deny that Mel possessed remarkable political instincts. She was adept at quickly deciphering relationships and recalibrating her approach to suit the dynamics of the moment.

Their first encounter hadn't been pleasant—after all, Mel's Piltovan allegiances clashed with Ryan's staunch representation of Noxus. Yet, in an impressive political maneuver, she'd extended an invitation to him under the banner of her Noxian heritage, a gesture he couldn't ignore.

It was a subtle but undeniable demonstration of her strategic brilliance, and Ryan couldn't help but respect her for it. If the roles had been reversed and Katarina had been placed in Mel's position, even with similar resources, Ryan doubted she could navigate this web of alliances without it descending into chaos.

Of course, if they'd been dropped into Zaun's undercity instead, the story would play out very differently.

"My mother has always had her share of troubles," Mel admitted with a faint sigh.

"For as long as I can remember, she has either been on the battlefield or preparing for war."

"There are few generals as uncompromisingly pure in purpose as your mother," Ryan said, his tone tinged with respect.

"Her, General Darius, and General Kled are rare examples."

"How curious. I thought General Du Couteau fit that description as well," Mel remarked, her smirk returning as her eyes flicked to Katarina.

"And his eldest daughter—Miss Du Couteau—has earned her reputation as a prodigious assassin. Surely, she's destined to inherit his mantle one day."

Katarina stiffened at the remark, but Ryan only sipped his wine, his expression unreadable.

With a charming smile, Mel raised her wine glass toward Katarina.

Katarina, her discomfort plain to see, clinked glasses with Mel without a word and downed the wine in her glass.

As competitive as she was, Katarina couldn't help but feel out of her depth in this setting. The polished, confident woman before her made her feel clumsy and unprepared—a stark contrast to the battlefield, where Katarina thrived.

"Sooner or later, Katarina's potential will surpass anyone's expectations," Ryan said with an easy smile.

"But right now, you seem more preoccupied with your protagonist, Mel. You can barely contain your eagerness."

His gaze shifted to a broad-shouldered young man across the hall. Ryan had already noticed that Mel's eyes frequently drifted toward him, as if by instinct.

Of course, Ryan recognized him immediately. He'd seen the young man's face on posters all over the streets of Piltover.

This was Jayce Talis, the city's prodigy and rising star—a self-made genius heralded as the pride of Piltover.

Mel's smile softened as she followed Ryan's gaze.

"I'm sorry," she said, though her tone carried no regret, only pride.

"But Jayce is truly Piltover's golden boy. It's incredible that someone from such humble beginnings could achieve such brilliance."

"Brilliance, perhaps," Ryan replied with a faint smirk.

"But he's still a child in many ways. That seems to be a common trait among Piltover's finest."

Ryan's eyes lingered on Jayce for only a moment before shifting to another figure in the room—a frail, thin man leaning heavily on crutches.

His gaunt frame seemed barely capable of supporting him, and his pale face betrayed signs of illness or exhaustion. Yet there was something sharp, almost unyielding, in his gaze.

Ryan knew this man too. Viktor.

To him, Viktor was a scientist of far greater vision and potential than Jayce, though few would recognize it yet.

Mel, catching Ryan's glance, shook her head slightly.

"People need time to grow," she said, her tone measured.

"Piltover is a stage for progress. I can give Jayce that time."

"You're willing to bet on the future of an entire city?" Ryan raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"This isn't a gamble, Your Excellency," Mel replied confidently.

"It's a calculated step toward a new era. Jayce is Piltover's brightest hope."

Ryan couldn't help but notice that Mel seemed to have more faith in Jayce's future than the young man had in himself. Jayce's confidence still wavered, his posture and demeanor betraying a boyish uncertainty, as if he were a puppy seeking reassurance.

As they spoke, Jayce finally noticed their conversation. Upon seeing Mel, his face lit up with surprise and relief. He made his way across the hall quickly, his steps purposeful but tinged with hesitation. Leaning in close to Mel, he whispered something in her ear, his tone urgent.

Mel glanced at Ryan, a hint of embarrassment in her expression.

"Forgive me, Your Excellency," she said.

"It seems I'm needed elsewhere."

Ryan raised his glass with a polite nod. "Of course. I hope you and your treasure boy have a productive conversation."

Mel smiled in thanks before letting Jayce guide her out of the banquet hall. Ryan watched them go, a trace of amusement in his expression.

"So the little pup has found its master," he murmured as their silhouettes disappeared from view. His playful gaze lingered for a moment longer before he turned back to Katarina.

"That was Jayce Talis?" Katarina asked curiously.

"If it's not, then the entire city is mistaken," Ryan quipped.

"In terms of intellect, I can't speak for him. But his physique is commendable—nearly on par with the elite soldiers of the empire. For Piltover, that's no small feat."

Katarina gave Jayce's now-empty spot a skeptical glance. "He looks like an overgrown boy. It's hard to believe he'll achieve much in science. Honestly, after seeing him, I'm starting to believe what you said earlier."

Ryan tilted his head, amused. "And what was that?"

"If someone like Jayce can achieve greatness, then surely I can master magic," Katarina said firmly, her confidence returning.

Her first impression of Jayce had been underwhelming, and though she didn't understand the complexities of science, she was certain she could outperform him in any field she set her mind to.

Ryan laughed heartily. "Miss Katarina, never lose that confidence. It's one of the things I admire most about you."

His gaze drifted again across the room, landing on Viktor, who still sat alone in the corner. Ryan motioned in his direction.

"Come. It's time we meet Jayce's assistant."