Midway through the night, Jericho Swain was awoken by the sound of his bird cawing into the room. Getting up from his less than comfortable bed inside of the Institute of War, he changed into his typical battle armor and opened the door to his room.
Trotting down the hallway of the Institute, headed his way, was a summoner in bright purple garb. Typically used to transport to and guide champions on the Fields of Justice, Swain had called the young woman for a separate purpose.
Once she arrived, Jericho handed her a small bag of gold coins and gave a curt nod. She quickly muttered the incantation for a teleportation spell and both Jericho and Beatrice vanished from the Institute.
Three short streaks of brown hair shone with an oddly bluish hue as the sun refracted around building corners to hit Jericho's head. The man's stone face held all of its secrets within, as it always did, and he gently pet his bird, Beatrice, under her beak. It clung tightly to his right shoulder pad, which had conveniently been warped in battle to form a sort of perch for her.
Noxus was not particularly the prettiest place in Runeterra, and Jericho was fully aware of it. He wanted nothing more than to see it in the glory it once was, all the resources it could ever want, just resting in its disposal.
The architecture of the city-state was the same as it had been some hundred years ago, when it had been the true powerhouse of Runeterra. People were constantly building and expanding businesses through the dirtiest most cutthroat tactics available, much to the tradition of Noxus and their survival of the fittest ideologies. It was painful to see just how slow progress had been with the Institute of War reducing the expansion and seizure of new land down to a choke.
But the Institute was not the only problem. Rules and regulations could always be broken and manipulated; Swain specialized in those aspects. The official issue lied within the people residing in Noxus. The strongest political powers were the best assassins and murderers of the land. There were no just duels when conflict arrived, merely a secret plot to take them out and place another in its spot. It effectively weakened Noxus as a whole, killing off the strongest people and powers by weak and petty organizations. A few names stung in Jericho's mind, along with the fact that he had been forced to resort to such cowardly tactics to begin placing his plans in motion.
All we wanted was to distract the Institute of War long enough to wage war on Demacia. A few fools had stood in his path, so he had to rid of them, one being Marcus Du Couteau. The assassin had trained his daughter and a dog by the name of Talon, both of whom proved more than obnoxious to work around. Regardless, his plans were nearly in motion. He needed Evaine LeBlanc to arrive, who was running a bit late.
Taking a quick glance at the city around the corner, he noticed her slender figure making way towards him. Gowned in a royal purple with an elegant headdress, she flashed him a wide smile and extended a limp hand towards him. He took it gently, kissed the black stone ring around her finger and gave a short bow.
"An unexpected delay?" Jericho inquired due to her unusual untimeliness.
"Yes, very unexpected. But preparations are complete. Shall we?" She inquired with a gesture towards one of the monuments in Noxus.
The two walked towards the towering statue of General Sion, a man of gargantuan size who slain King Jarvan I, nearly a hundred years ago, with his bare hands as twenty soldiers attempted to put him down. The man was an unstoppable force, capable of trouncing armies by himself, and always manned the front line in combat, despite his high ranking. Noxus lacked the moral code of soldiers like Sion, and Swain knew it. He was dedicated to the fight, and earned his rank and title through personal strength, not cowardly and brutal tactics.
"Jericho… Once we have unleashed Sion, it is likely that we will only be able to set one destination in his mind before he charges off. Are you certain you want him to assault the Institute? And not lead your army into Noxus?"
"I appreciate your concern Evaine, however, he will be an undead soldier, and hardly a sacrifice to use him to get rid of Vessaria and the Institute of War, as I wrote in my last letter. Unless… You have doubts in the strength off Noxus in battle against Demacia?" They both laughed loudly at the proposition and went back to focusing on the task at hand.
"Have you got the spell right this time Jericho?"
"Yes. I had to make some tweaks from last times experiment. But this will be correct. I am sure of it."
"Very well," Evaine stated before taking out a bag of magical items, and unfolding Jericho's scroll with the incantation. After a few moments of muttering the spell in the ancient dialect, the magical items floated into the air and vanished, having been consumed. Moments later, the ground began to tremble and the monument to General Sion barely stood a chance against the reviving ogre. Pieces of the structure crumbled to the ground and a body began to claw its way from the dirt and stone.
The charade began to draw attention and Evaine looked at Swain as if asking whether or not her assistance was still required. Jericho gave a quick nod and turned away from her. She disappeared into the air just before people started to arrive at the scene.
As the monstrosity of Sion stood to his full height, clearly butchered and revived on more than one occasion, limbs somewhat mangled and scars beyond visible, the behemoth snorted and growled, awaiting orders. Looking around at his crowd of onlookers, Swain grinned and rose his arms to the sky.
"Noxus! I have revived our sacred relic, General Sion, the one who crushed Demacia's King with his bare hands! Follow me, as we will slay Demacia once again! Our days of cowering behind the walls and regulations of Institute of War are over!" Jericho shifted attention from his crowd and to Sion. "Sion! Your target is Vessaria Kolminye, High Summoner of the Institute of War. Your order: crush." With a shout capable of toppling mountains, the beast stormed off at impossible speeds, directly towards the Institute of War. Jericho swiveled around and panned over his crowd.
"Noxians! Today, we march." A roar of approval resonated outward as people scrambled to get weapons and armor. Jericho marched home, climbed upon his horse, and rode out to Demacia.