The Lord God Descends into League of Legends - Chapter 2

Mo Chen gazed at Sona, who was only fifteen years old yet already possessed a majestic figure beyond control. In his heart, he silently gave thirty-two thumbs up — the title of League of Legends’ Number One Bust was indeed well deserved.

But with his current identity, why would he be in this orphanage?

Mo Chen cast them a glance, furrowed his brow slightly, then closed his eyes to recall. It turned out that his predecessor had merely felt depressed and, on a whim, decided to visit the orphanage.

But the shrewd headmistress would never let such a fat sheep slip away. And Sona, neglected for so long, naturally became the old headmistress’s prime recommendation.

Having understood the situation, Mo Chen’s frown gradually relaxed. He calmed his excitement and spoke in an even tone:

“Honorable Lady Debra, I still have matters to attend to, so I will not linger here. Sona may come with me first, and later a servant will deliver a donation of one hundred gold coins to the orphanage.”

The so-called “donation” was just another name for the transaction. Anyone who adopted an orphan was expected to leave behind some money to help sustain the orphanage’s future.

“Most noble duke, your compassion shines like the sun in the heavens, your generosity enough to shame the gods!” the old woman exclaimed, her voice trembling with excitement.

A hundred gold coins were enough to support the orphanage’s expenses for ten years. This single donation equaled nearly three years of its entire revenue.

Her heart overflowing with gratitude, the old woman’s expression toward Sona grew ever kinder. This was truly a child blessed by the gods — to have found such a benevolent master was no small fortune. With such a patron, she believed Sona’s future would surely be bright.

“Do you have anything else you need to pack? If not, we should go.” Mo Chen gave a polite nod to the elated matron, then glanced at the visibly moved Sona and asked her gently.

Though one hundred gold coins was no small sum, to gain Sona in return was an absolute bargain. She was hailed as the Number One Support in League of Legends, a future healer of limitless potential. For such a treasure, even a thousand times that amount would still be worth it.

Hearing his gentle voice, Sona grew even more emotional. In her life, apart from the elderly at the orphanage, no one had ever spoken to her with such kindness.

It was as though a ray of warm sunlight pierced into her heart that had long been filled with despair — the long-lost feeling of being cared for, being cherished. Until now, such feelings had existed only in her dreams.

But dreams always shattered, leaving reality dark and cruel. She clutched tightly at her worn pale-blue gown, terrified that this, too, was just another dream waiting to crumble.

Eyes glistening with tears, Sona shook her head softly, her beautiful twin blue ponytails swaying gently. She had no belongings in this orphanage aside from that threadbare gown.

Mo Chen, seeing her gesture, nodded for them to leave.

“Wait, noble duke! Sona still has a peculiar guqin, a relic bestowed by the gods,” Madam Debra suddenly called out as they were about to leave.

The guqin carried strange magical powers. They had once tried to auction it to create a fund for Sona’s future, yet no matter how many times they parted with it, the guqin always mysteriously returned to her.

Because of this, people shunned her even more, regarding the instrument as a mark of divine punishment.

Sona’s body trembled at the mention of the guqin. She lifted her head anxiously, peeking at her new master, fearing he might abandon her because of the cursed rumors surrounding it. Her pitiful look was like that of a kitten afraid of being cast aside.

“We should go. Bring the guqin to my carriage.” Mo Chen, unmoved by her anxious expression, reached out to gently brush her smooth cheek, speaking calmly.

Feeling the warmth of his hand on her face, Sona’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink. Though shy, she felt immense relief that he had not abandoned her.

Half an hour later.

A lavish carriage rolled along the pristine roads of Ionia, drawn by snow-white steeds whose hooves struck the cobblestones with rhythmic clatter.

The carriage, crafted entirely of fragrant rosewood and carved with intricate patterns, stretched ten feet in length and two meters in width — spacious enough to resemble a moving room.

Inside, Mo Chen sat upright on a comfortable chair along the inner wall. Beside him stood a middle-aged man, his face weary yet his eyes sharp and commanding, exuding an aura no one would dare to underestimate.

Sona sat quietly near the outer side of the carriage, clutching her guqin in her arms. From time to time, she would steal timid glances at her master with her expressive eyes.

Mo Chen remained impassive, casting a brief look at the middle-aged man. This man was Liss, his trusted steward — a highly talented retainer deliberately appointed by the former Grand Duke of Chang’an to assist his heir.

“Master, the situation is dire,” Liss said respectfully, fatigue lacing his tone. “The obstinacy of Ionia’s leadership is even stronger than we anticipated. I even sought an audience with the revered Soraka, a legendary figure of great renown. But her response was deeply disappointing. No matter how I reasoned the dangers, she insisted that Ionia is a peace-loving land and will never initiate war.”

Though Liss knew well the Ionian love of peace, he had not expected their naivety to endure even as Noxus prepared to march upon them. They still clung to the fantasy that war could somehow be avoided.

Mo Chen closed his eyes, organizing the historical knowledge in his mind.

According to the chronicles of League of Legends, this was the eve of the Noxian invasion of Ionia. With an army of a million, the Noxian empire was set on conquering every independent state to build an unprecedented dominion.

The so-called League of Legends had yet to be formally established, still in its infancy. Mo Chen knew that by the time the League emerged to influence Valoran’s affairs, Chang’an City would likely already have been crushed under Noxus’s terrifying might.

To resist such a force, he would need Ionia’s alliance — or immense personal power. Unless he could rise to a level where one man could stand against thousands, Chang’an’s survival was unlikely.

And to speak with Noxus on equal footing required nothing less than the power of a legendary being. Like Soraka of Ionia, a figure who had already set one foot into the demigod realm.

At such a level, one’s gestures alone could shatter heavens, topple mountains, and turn the stars. Only such beings commanded the respect of Noxus, who would then weigh whether Chang’an was worth the effort.

“Alas, Lord System… at the moment I need you most, why have you gone offline?” Mo Chen sighed inwardly.

From what he knew, Valoran’s hierarchy of power extended up to the Sixth Tier, Eighteenth Level. The Fifth Tier was “Legendary,” the Sixth “Demigod.” Whether realms beyond existed, he did not know.

His current cultivation, the pinnacle of the Innate Realm, was equivalent only to a Second-Tier peak. Compared to the Legendary Fifth Tier, the gap was insurmountable.

For now, his only hope was the Lord System. Yet every time he tried to connect, the only response he received was: Loading…

Trying again, the system’s cold reply came: Reboot scheduled. Access will be available in three days.