Logan landed on the ground and looked at the corpse in front of him. Judging by the clothing, he concluded it was an Ionian. The face was badly burned—features destroyed—otherwise Logan could've guessed from the look.
He didn't think it was a Noxian, because Noxians almost always wore something with red or black. Red and black symbolized iron and blood—Noxus's signature colors.
Following the road, Logan realized the place he'd descended into seemed to be an Ionian village. A fire had burned it clean, leaving only charred black ruins behind.
"Hello? Anyone here?"
In unfamiliar territory, Logan craned his neck and called out.
No choice—without locals to point him the right way, he didn't even know which direction Zaun was. The only thing he could guess was that he was in Navori, because the Noxus–Ionia war had happened there.
Beyond that, Logan knew nothing.
But Noxus clearly hadn't left anyone alive in this village. So Logan could only follow the footprints on the ground, sprinting toward wherever people might still be.
With his Soul Strength massively increased, Logan's running speed was terrifying. He darted through the woods—blink, and he'd already covered hundreds of meters.
And he didn't feel tired at all. What Ahri had granted him was charm; what Kindred had granted him was recovery.
Lamb's Respite strengthened Logan's healing. Honestly… if Ionia and Zaun weren't separated by the Guardian's Sea, Logan genuinely felt like he could run all the way back to Zaun.
But the sea…
It was dangerous. Bilgewater's docks regularly hauled in sea monsters dozens of meters long—sometimes close to a hundred. Logan didn't believe for a second he could swim across. He needed a boat. Even the smallest boat was better than the idea of trying to swim back to Zaun.
He sprinted hard and soon reached another village—this one still burning.
Narrowing his eyes, Logan watched Noxians looting and slaughtering inside. Without hesitation, he turned into a black streak and charged into town.
"Kill all the men! Leave the women and children!"
"Kill the elderly too!"
A Noxian squad commander with a long blade on his back shouted orders. He drew the sword and chopped straight down at an old woman in front of him.
But just as the blade was about to fall, the world in front of him went black—
Then white, bright enough to gleam.
That was Logan's fist.
Soul rebuilt, body remade—Logan's paleness now didn't lose to Jinx in the slightest. He threw a punch, then stared blankly at the carnage around him and shook out his wrist.
That punch… Logan felt like if he hit Vander with it, he could drop him instantly. If it landed on the head, it'd blow Vander's skull apart. Father-in-law number two would be dead beyond dead.
…Wait. Why am I using Vander as a unit of measurement?
Logan lowered his head to think, but his hands never stopped. He grabbed a Noxian who was frozen in shock—too sudden, too bloody to process—and Logan crushed the man's jaw like it was tofu.
No mercy for Noxians. See one, kill one—damn right. If Logan could beat Swain, he'd kill Swain too.
Don't talk to him about Swain's charisma. Don't talk to him about how big the Void threat is.
To a warmonger like that, unless you force him to feel a gap he can't cross—real despair—he'll do anything to make Noxus rise.
And Noxus's rise is always built on other nations' suffering.
With warmongers, your mouth is for cursing them, not negotiating. Your hands are for gripping a blade, not shaking theirs—wait… if I went looking for Swain right now, could I take him out?
But after thinking about it, Logan dropped the idea. It would waste too much time. Not even counting whether he could find Swain, he didn't even know where he was right now—and he was going to go looking for someone?
Back to what was in front of him—
Logan slaughtered everyone in the village wearing red and black. In half a minute, the Noxian squad—dozens of soldiers—were all dead at his hands.
They couldn't even pass along a message. All they could do was watch a shadow blur past—and then another Noxian head would explode.
It was horrifying. So horrifying that when the rescued Ionians saw Logan—covered in blood—walking toward them, they let out piercing screams.
"No! Don't crush my head!"
In front of Logan, a delicate-looking girl with dark brown-black hair and black eyes bowed her head and screamed, clutching her head.
Logan: "…"
"I'm here to help you," Logan said, crouching down and smiling.
Ahri's charm kicked in.
The girl lifted her head. Her cheeks flushed at the sight of Logan's face. She was still afraid of him—but she dared to speak now.
"Y-you're Ionian too? Which order are you from? Did Brother Muya succeed in getting help?" she asked dazedly.
"Ionian? No. I'm from Zaun," Logan told her.
He stood, looked around, rolled his shoulders, and said, "I helped you. I saved your lives. So you help me with one thing—deal?"
"O-okay… but we don't have money."
"I don't want money," Logan said with a smile. "Just tell me where the Noxian harbor is."
"Huh??" The girl froze, staring at him. "What are you going to do?"
"Steal a ship," Logan said. "And go home."
"Y-you… can't you stay and help us? Noxus invaded our home. So many people died. Y-you're so strong…"
Logan shook his head, refusing.
"Listen. They're people, and you're people. But when you face them, all you do is run. I've always found that strange. Because you aren't weak. Your bodies, your strength—plenty of you can even use magic, right? And yet all you do is give up, run, refuse to fight back."
"If you won't pick up weapons—if you want to be sheep waiting for the knife—then why do you expect outside help to save you?"
When Logan said it, there was open disdain in his eyes.
Ionia worshipped peace and nature—worshipped it too far.
They clearly had terrifying combat power, yet they babbled about balance, nature, no war… and watched their own people get butchered. Watched themselves get butchered.
What kind of nonsense was that?
Ionian strength wasn't some myth. Take Xin Zhao—what was he originally? A fisherman from Ionia. Just an ordinary fisherman. But once he picked up a weapon and fought back, what did he become?
A monster who never lost in Noxus's arenas. Demacia's royal steward. A monster who could face Valoran's most elite forces—who could charge the Dauntless Vanguard and take a commander's head right out of their formation.
Ionians were born naturally attuned to magic. The natural elements here were so abundant that every Ionian, from birth to adulthood, had their body strengthened—gaining power others would find unbelievable.
That was why Ionia had so many high-end fighters: because their baseline was simply absurd.
And yet Ionia—like this—had been beaten to the brink of collapse by Noxus.
Not until a teenage blade-dancing girl—Irelia—appeared and cut off Swain's arm did these people finally grow the will to resist. And after that… Noxus lost the war.
The girl stared at Logan, stunned.
After hearing him, something hot flared in her chest.
Logan exhaled, wiped the blood from his mouth, and continued in a low voice, "Go west. Take these people and head for western Ionia. If you're lucky, you'll run into a girl who dances with blades—she'll lead you to fight back against Noxus. If you're unlucky… the worst that happens is you die. Right?"
"Now tell me—where's the nearest Noxian harbor?"
The girl raised her hand and pointed.
Logan smiled at her. "Thanks."
Then he shot off in the direction she indicated—
Vanishing from her sight.
Logan had no intention of getting dragged into the Noxus–Ionia war. He didn't have time to waste. To him, it was just closing his eyes, opening them, and he was alive again.
But what about Jinx?
Logan couldn't bear to imagine it. One year—an entire year with him dead—what had Jinx been thinking? What had she been doing? He was genuinely terrified for her.
That was why he had no time to help Ionia drive out Noxus.
But if he was going to steal a ship…
Then he'd steal a big one.
Between Noxus and Ionia, Logan naturally leaned toward Ionia—what else would he choose?
Was he supposed to like Noxus, that war-mad empire? Ionia had the potential to be an ally someday. Noxus?
Ally? Impossible.
Noxus only swallowed nations. They didn't cooperate. In that country's dictionary, there was no such word as alliance—only one word:
Submission.
After more than an hour of running, Logan reached the bay—and saw warships lined up along the coast.
One massive battleship caught his eye.
It stood nearly twenty meters tall and stretched a hundred meters long. If he brought a ship like that back to Zaun—
Logan sucked in a breath, then shook his head.
Forget it. That kind of ship wasn't something one person could operate. Even a dozen people couldn't—
…Wait.
Logan narrowed his eyes. His vision was sharper than normal now. He stepped onto a tree trunk, shaded his eyes with a hand, and stared at the ship. Along its deck were rows of black cages.
Prisoners?
Perfect. He had people to crew the ship.
Logan smiled.
——
Near the end of the year in Zaun, Silco accepted a thick stack of documents Renata handed him and read them carefully.
"A temporary ceasefire from Noxus?" The moment he saw the headline, Silco looked up at Renata, his eyes asking for confirmation.
Renata… was an unbelievably useful secretary. Silco had a lot of things he needed to ask her now, a lot he needed to coordinate through her.
"The intel is solid," Renata replied. "It was collected by Clan Ferros's agents. Noxus's coastline at Fae'lor was destroyed. More than a dozen warships were sunk. The largest one—the Drekan Victory—was even stolen. Noxus has pulled back its lines and is investigating what happened."
"All in one night?" Silco couldn't believe it.
Ever since Ambessa left, the twin cities had been watching Noxus closely. They were worried that once Noxus finished the war with Ionia, they'd turn and invade Piltover and Zaun.
Noxus hadn't moved yet because they didn't have the manpower. West into Demacia, north into the Freljord, south into Shurima, east into Ionia—calling it a war against the entire world wouldn't even be exaggeration.
So if they won the Noxus–Ionia war and freed up troops, Zaun and Piltover would be in danger.
Gathering intelligence early and preparing for Noxus was critical.
Renata shook her head. Even she looked a little stunned, lowering her voice. "Not in one night."
"It happened in one hour."
"What?"
"One hour. In a single hour, the Noxian harbor completely fell. And their enemy was just one person."
"…"
"You're joking."
"Do I look like someone who jokes?" Renata shot back.
Silco shook his head, then rubbed at his temple with a headache. "If Ionia has power like that, why were they getting beaten back so badly by Noxus? That kind of monster…"
Silco trailed off.
Because Zaun had once had a monster like that too.
Thinking of Logan, Silco lifted his head, closed his eyes, and said, "Understood. Give this intel to Vander. Have him go to Piltover—bring Piltover's enforcers too. We need to start learning naval warfare in advance."
"And tell Jayce to speed up battleship production. We don't have much time. Whether Noxus wins or loses the Noxus–Ionia war, we have to be ready."
"I understand," Renata said with a nod.
——
The Lanes, Hope Community.
In Viktor's home, Jinx looked down at the little robot beside her, then at Viktor, and lifted her head.
"Is it finished?"
"Yeah," Viktor said. "Basically."
Jinx smiled, stood, patted the robot's head, then said softly to Viktor, "Thank you. Viktor… thank you."
"You're welcome."
Jinx nodded and turned to leave.
Viktor hesitated, then finally spoke anyway. "You're not going to tell them? You're just leaving like this?"
"No," Jinx said. "Everyone has their own life now."
She smiled brightly, turned back, threw her arms wide, then planted her feet and flicked her bangs aside. She pursed her lips and blew a playful puff of air, her voice high with happiness.
"Caitlyn chases Vi around every day. Silco and Renata practically live together. Vander's doing great working in the barracks. The kiddo and Zeri are together every day. And Isha's accepted you now."
"Everything's good, isn't it?"
"They'll be heartbroken," Viktor said.
"I know," Jinx said. "But I've been heartbroken this whole time. I can't hold it anymore."
She faced Viktor, but her hand was already behind her, gripping the doorknob. She opened the door, bent down, lifted her other hand to her lips, and—still smiling—held up a finger.
"Shh. Don't tell anyone. You've helped me so many times… help me one last time."
Then Jinx closed the door.
"…" Viktor sat back down, stroking the Hextech sensor. With a light flick of his finger, the little robot moved.
He closed his eyes and whispered, "I hope you meet Logan over there, Jinx."
——
"Janna… you won't stop me, right?"
In the home she used to share with Logan, Jinx sat at the desk writing letters—one for Silco, one for Vander, one for Vi, one for Isha, and… one for herself.
"I won't," a blue bird appeared on the desk, looking at Jinx calmly.
In all of Zaun, the only one watching Jinx every moment was Janna.
She knew best what Jinx's year had been like—strong for everyone else, and then, in the deep silence of night, clutching Logan's doll and tossing and turning.
Muttering again and again,
"Don't cry."
"He won't let you cry."
Janna was a spirit, yes—but she had human feelings too. She understood that for Jinx, living was the hardest thing.
Jinx had endured a year. Hurt for a year. Despaired for a year.
Now she was going to find her happiness.
Janna had no reason to stop her.
Even if Logan found out and cursed her for it. Even if he was furious.
"Thank you, Janna," Jinx said, smiling at the blue bird, then lowered her head and kept writing.
When she finished, she put on a beautiful dress and nice boots. She hung her pocket watch and necklace around her neck, and wore the bracelet around her ankle—because Logan said he liked her feet.
She put her cat-ear hat on, closed her door, and left.
In the cool air and warm sunlight, she headed upward into Piltover.
Bouncing along, cheerful beyond measure, singing a pretty tune under her breath.
——
In the afternoon, Vi arrived at Jinx's home.
She'd made a point of coming at this time, planning to make dinner so that when Jinx returned from Logan's statue, she could eat right away.
Vi pushed the door open and stepped into Jinx's room.
Yeah—no one. She was probably still working at the factory.
Vi was about to close the door when she suddenly noticed several envelopes on the desk.
She walked over, curious. She didn't mean to pry into her sister's privacy—she only intended to look at the envelopes, not read what was inside.
But as she drew close and lowered her gaze, she saw her own name.
—To Vi.
In an instant, panic seized her. Vi grabbed the envelope and tore it open, eyes dropping to the page.
"No… no…"
"No, it can't be—someone! Anyone! Help! Somebody!"
Vi vaulted out the window and sprinted into the street, shouting at the top of her lungs.
That immediately drew the attention of the enforcers in Hope Community, and Vi ordered them to find Silco—now.
A moment later, every enforcer in Zaun was mobilized.
Inside his home, Viktor heard the commotion outside. The hand holding his wrench paused.
Then he only sighed again—saying nothing.
——
On the strait, a small ship from Bilgewater sailed toward Zaun.
At the bow, a black-haired young man stood with his eyes closed, letting the cold wind hit his face as he breathed in the fishy sea air. Then he suddenly opened his eyes, grinning.
"Finally. That smell of metal and chemtech… yeah, that's it. That smell! Ha—obviously it's only been half a month, but why does it feel like I haven't been back in forever?"
Logan squinted, leaned over the deck, and inhaled deeply.
"Hey, black-haired kid! How many times do I have to tell you? That's dangerous!"
A crewman shouted at him.
Logan smiled at the man and obediently stepped back onto the deck.
He hadn't taken the battleship because he later realized it wasn't suitable to bring back to Zaun—too Noxian in style. So Logan chose to stop in Bilgewater, sold the warship to local pirates, and took the money.
The Bilgewater folk were straightforward—they paid a high price. Logan gave the Ionians on board a share, letting them choose their own paths, then boarded a Bilgewater merchant ship back to Zaun.
And now, after drifting on the sea for more than half a month, Logan had finally arrived.
He spread his arms wide, breathing in the familiar air.
With a radiant smile, he shouted:
"Zaun—I'm back!"
"Jinx—I'm coming!"
He yelled it at the top of his lungs.
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