The night in Noxus is never restless.

When you cram thousands of people from all over the empire into one place, don't expect quiet.

The desert march song floated from the Zagaya's tent area by the river, and the sound of swords clashing echoed in a nearby reckoning arena. The wurm in the iron-walled fence smelled the freshly slaughtered livestock in the slaughterhouse to the north, and let out a restless howl one after another.

The sounds of widows, grieving mothers, or veterans crushed by nightmares make up the harmony of the night, set against the roars of drunken soldiers and street vendors who specialize in business in the dark.

No, the night in Noxus is never restless.

Except here.

This part of Noxus is dead silent.

Maula clutched her paintbrush bag full of brushes, paint, and charcoal sticks to her chest, and she visibly felt the noise of the Noxian night fade away. The lack of sound happened so suddenly, so alarmingly, that she stopped in the middle of the street—which is usually unwise—and looked around.

The street is located in the older, more affluent part of Noxus City, Moltora, also known as the Iron Gate, but there is nothing special about it. A full moon is reflected on the irregular cobblestone road, like a group of silent watching eyes, and the houses on both sides of the street are made of stone, and the exquisite craftsmanship may have been the work of some war stonemason. At the end of a fork in the road, Maura saw a tall temple, where three figures in armor were kneeling at the foot of a pillar to worship an obsidian statue of a wolf spirit. They all raised their heads together, and Maura hurried away, so that the fool could attract the attention of those who prayed with swords in the dark.

She shouldn't have come here in the dark.

Tavo had warned her not to come, but she recognized the femme fatale in his eyes, so she knew it wasn't out of fear for her safety, but out of jealousy. He always considered himself the most brilliant painter in their circle. So her appointment as the candidate for this commission hurt him deeply. When the neatly folded, elegantly written letter was delivered to their shared studio, both Selyse and Conrad rejoiced, begging her to remember what they had seen, but Zeka only told her to wash her brushes.

"Do you think you're going to talk to him?" Selyse asked as she was about to leave the door. As she opened the door, she heard the night bells on the other side of the harbor gradually dissipate. The thought of venturing into the darkness filled Maura with equal fear and excitement.

"He's going to sit there and let me paint a portrait, so I guess I'll have to talk to him," she replied, gesturing to the dark night sky. "We need to talk about what kind of painting he wants, especially considering I don't have access to natural light."

"What a strange request for a portrait to be done at night, huh?" Conrad said he was in good spirits and wore a blanket over his body like a cloak.

"I'm curious to see what he sounds like," Seris added.

"It's the voice of an ordinary person," Tavo snapped, turning over and shoving the pillow back through the breach. "He's not God, you know. He's just an ordinary person. Then, can you guys stop talking? I'm sleeping. ”

Selyse ran over and kissed her. "Good luck," she said with a giggle. "Come back and tell us...... From start to finish, no matter how nasty. ”

Maula's smile froze, but she nodded. "Definitely. I promise. ”

The route to the new patron's mansion is surprisingly clear. Not only is the destination clear, but also the path that must be taken. Marula was well acquainted with the topography of the capital, and she had walked the streets of Noxus countless times, such as those hungry days, and the days when their commissions were insufficient and they were offered rent by the landlord of the studio.

Still, the city was mysterious to her, and rightfully so—everyone in Noxus knew where he lived, but almost no one remembered being there. The street felt strange—narrower, more oppressive, as if every corner was pulling the walls closer and closer, and finally trying to trap her. She hurried forward through the chilling silence, desperately searching for light—perhaps the lantern that marked the border, or the candle in the upper window, though that candlelight was meant to guide suitors who came to show favor at night.

But there is no other light except the moon. Her pace quickened suddenly, as she heard something, whether it was the sound of soft footsteps behind her, or a sigh of anticipation.

Maura made a sharp turn and found herself in a small circular square with a bubbling fountain in the center. In such a crowded city, where people are at a premium, it is almost unheard of to waste space.

She circled around the fountain's pool, which was silver in the moonlight, and the fountain sculpture in the center of the pool came to life. It is made of a cast iron hammer and has the appearance of a headless warrior, wearing plate armor and holding a mace.

The spring water flowed from the statue's neck, and Maula suddenly realized what it meant, and she couldn't help but feel a chill.

She walked briskly away from the fountain and toward a double door made of silverbark wood, a red-veined black marble wall blocking the way. As promised in the letter, the door was ajar, and Marula passed gently through the two heavy doors.

The mansion within the walls was made of a pale stone she had never seen before—majestic but not a single stone—as was the case with many of the great Noxian buildings. After some observation, she also found that the house did not follow a specific architectural style, but rather incorporated the architectural trends of different periods of the past few hundred years.

Striking among all the oddities is the rough tower that rises high above the main tower, and its proportions alone stand out. The tower gives the impression that the entire building was built around the lair of some ancient shaman. The visuals should have been jarring, but Marula liked it, as if every angle of the mansion was showing a bygone era of the Empire. The windows of the house were all closed, and the only light that could be seen was the scarlet soft light at the top of the tower.

The gravel path at her feet leads her to an exquisite garden, with intricate plant carvings, elaborate canals, and a variety of strange-looking flowers, exuding a variety of competing colors and exotic fragrances. This beautiful view, coupled with the wide square at the door, all show unparalleled wealth. And the thought of her being the person to be the person to be entrusted made Maula's hands and feet tremble with pleasure and warmth.

Hundreds of colorful butterflies flutter among the flowers with their wings with strange patterns. Such a light and delicate creature, and at the same time so graceful, can also complete a miraculous metamorphosis. Maula had never seen butterflies at night, and she smiled happily at the sight of one of them gently landing in her palm. The tapered torso and outstretched wings actually form a Noxian double-edged axe coat of arms, the emblem that is emblazoned on every Noxian flag. The butterfly flapped its wings and flew away, and Maula saw it circling and blending into the dance of other butterflies, and she was amazed to see so many rare and wonderful creatures.