The smile playing on the lips of the head of the Medard clan looked inappropriately frightening as she towered over the lifeless bodies of the defeated hermits, moving forward with a leisurely gait, as if making an evening promenade.

Despite the significant losses in the ranks of her own army, Ambessa rejoiced! A small, but rich in deposits of precious metals, the territory was under the control of her state. Like the locals, forced to bow their heads before the might of General Noxus. She had the privilege of watching savages end their lives in horror in the face of defeat. There were also those who resisted until their last breath, but a natural fate awaited everyone.

Perhaps the most pleasant thing was to break their fierce voice of resistance. The ferocious leader of the hermits, brought to her knees and crucified by the enemy's grip, the matriarchy of Medard could not have imagined that she needed such a spectacle.

“Well? Where's all your arrogance and rage gone, huh? Look at yourself,” the woman drawled, not hiding the complacency in her voice, her eyes narrowed predatorily. “Pathetic, broken." Ambessa leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Defeated.”

Letting out a low laugh at the lack of reaction, she straightened up, stroking the hilt of the blade with her fingers. Executing a symbol of resistance in the middle of a desert with corpses would be too simple and boring, the thirst for blood was replaced by a desire to prolong and multiply the triumph. The need to demonstrate the greatness and power of the army of Noxus, capable of subjugating even the most obstinate.

“I won't kill you, no,” the general shook her head, imperiously cupping the hermit's chin in her palm. “I'll take you with me to Noxus, put you on a chain and walk you like a lousy dog so that the others won't bite.”

Ambessa jerked her hand away as if she had touched something vile and, curling her lips, gave a loud order: “Kill everyone, and take her,” she nodded at the woman, “Into custody. We're going back to Noxus.”