The "Tyrant's Bond" seal was now locked onto Noxians’ forehead, and a palpable aura of absolute dominance radiated from Ray, effectively tethering the boy’s will to his own.
The training chamber fell into a heavy, suffocating silence, broken only by the
ragged, uneven breathing of the two combatants.
Ray stood over the boy who had been his fierce rival mere moments ago, his expression unreadable as he offered a slight, imperious nod of acknowledgment.
"From this moment forward, you are no longer Noxians," Ray declared, his voice cutting through the stagnant air with cold finality.
"The name I shall call you is Shine."
Shine lowered his head, his features settling into a mask of perfect, mechanical compliance.
Any trace of his former rebellion or defiance had been wiped clean.
His voice was utterly devoid of emotion as he replied, "As you wish, Master."
Ray studied his new servant for a long moment, his gaze sharp and analytical.
"Tell me, Shine... why do you pursue power? What is the root of this obsession
that drove you to crave strength with such desperation?"
Shine looked up, his eyes glassy and unfocused, staring into the past as if replaying a nightmare that had haunted him for years.
"It is a long and bitter story, Master. Are you certain you wish to hear it?"
Ray’s gaze softened just enough to signal interest. "I am. But not here.
First, we must see to your wounds. We are heading to the infirmary."
"Understood, Master," Shine replied, forcing himself to stand on wobbly legs.
They left the training chamber, moving through the winding, stone-walled corridors of the academy.
The halls were mostly empty, the silence punctuated only by the rhythmic echo of their footsteps.
Upon reaching the infirmary, they were greeted by a young woman with hair the
color of twilight and piercing, sharp blue eyes.
She took one look at their blood-stained clothes and sighed, her professional
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demeanor instantly taking control of the situation.
"It seems you two had quite a rough time out there," she noted, waving them toward the medical benches.
"Sit. You, start with the one on the left. Your injuries are far more critical."
She pointed directly at Shine. He moved to the bench without a word, his movements sluggish and heavy.
The woman placed her hands over him, a warm, soothing glow emanating from her
palms as she began to weave her healing magic.
"Your internal organs are severely damaged," she remarked, her brow furrowing with professional concern.
Shine offered a faint, hollow smile, not bothering to explain the cause.
Within minutes, the light faded, and the color returned to his skin.
She then turned her attention to Ray, whose wounds were less severe but still draining.
As she worked, Ray remained perfectly still, his mind racing.
If I could master Life Magic, he thought to himself, watching the energy flow, I wouldn't need to rely on anyone.
I could mend my own wounds in an instant.
Once the treatment was finished, Ray looked at the woman. "What is your name?"
"Rika," she replied, wiping her hands on a cloth.
"Thank you, Rika. Your service is appreciated," Ray said with a curt nod.
Rika offered a small, polite smile. "Don't mention it. It’s my duty."
Ray didn't linger. With a silent gesture to Shine, they exited the infirmary and made their way back to Ray’s private quarters.
Once inside, Ray signaled for Shine to sit.
The air felt heavy again, charged with the weight of the confession that was about to unfold.
Shine took a shaky breath, his hands trembling slightly as he began.
"It all began when I was a child.
It was only me and my mother. My father had abandoned us when I was barely able to walk.
Every time I asked my mother about him, she would tell me he was a great, powerful man.
I never understood it. If he was so great, why did he leave us to rot?"
Shine’s voice grew harder, his fists clenching until his knuckles turned white. "She never gave me a real answer.
Then, the inevitable happened. My mother fell ill.
The debt collectors arrived—men who had
lent her money just so I could have a piece of bread and a warm place to sleep.
When they found her in that state, they didn't care.
One of them kicked me in the gut, laughing about how much they could sell me for to recoup their losses."
He looked up at Ray, his eyes burning with the fires of past trauma. "My mother tried to stand.
She begged them to leave me be, saying she would pay them back somehow.
The man just slapped her, a brutal, casual strike that sent her crashing to the floor.
She hit her head on the stone, and because she was already so weak from the disease,
she didn't get up. She died right there."
Shine’s voice dropped to a cold, jagged whisper.
"The man didn't even mourn. He just complained that she was dead and hadn't paid him back.
He looked at me, but before he could lay a hand on me, someone else intervened—a stranger; I don't remember his face.
He slaughtered them all. He built a grave for my mother, but he didn't put her body in it.
He took her with him, storing her in his spatial ring, and dumped me at an orphanage.
That was the moment I realized that in this world, a person without power is nothing."
He took another uneven breath. "I swore I would become strong.
I would uncover the truth, find that man, reclaim my mother’s body, and track down
my father to make him regret every day he spent away from us."
Ray’s expression remained stone-cold, a mask of unreadable intent.
He looked at Shine for a long moment before responding.
"Our paths are not so different. We are both forged in the furnace of vengeance.
We both seek power to balance the scales of our pasts."
Ray leaned forward, his presence filling the room. "Do not worry, Shine.
As my servant, you will have everything you need.
You wanted power? I will give you more than you ever dared to dream.
We will see to it that your enemies—all of them—suffer for what they have done to you."