The Lord God Descends into League of Legends - Chapter 3

“We have no way out now. I wonder what’s happening with Zhao Yun?” Mo Chen rubbed his throbbing forehead and sighed.

With Chang’an City’s current strength, they had no way to resist Noxus. Even if he resented the Ionia Council’s attitude, for now, he could only swallow his anger. He thought of Zhao Yun, who had gone to Demacia on his uncle Zhao Xin’s orders to ask for help, and could only hope she would return with good news.

Hearing this, Lis fell silent and simply nodded. At this point, Chang’an was trapped. To pit its meager strength against Noxus would be nothing more than smashing eggs against a stone.

“O Lord God, please don’t let me down,” Mo Chen prayed silently, hoping the Lord God might provide some miracle. He didn’t dare hope for the power it once had—just enough to help him through this crisis would be enough.

—

The next day, at the break of dawn, Sona awoke early.

She lay upon the soft, cloudlike bed, gazing out through the ornate window at the clear blue sky, her heart still steeped in a dreamlike haze.

Just a day ago, she had been in the orphanage, awaiting the judgment of fate—struggling alone in silence and darkness. With adulthood fast approaching, she would soon have been forced to leave the orphanage, cast into an unknown and terrifying life. Perhaps she would have died alone in some dark corner, her body rotting away unnoticed, like some pitiful rat.

But when that noble duke appeared, everything changed. She had escaped the dreadful solitude of the orphanage at last. She had finally found someone willing to adopt her.

Though she was now little more than a female servant, someone who could be discarded or given away at her master’s whim, her heart still brimmed with longing—for recognition, for a life no longer shadowed by fear.

When she held her guqin tightly and climbed into the duke’s luxurious carriage, glancing back at the orphanage fading into the distance, she felt a wave of release. The nightmare was over. Though the caretakers had not mistreated her, the stares of others had been unbearable, suffocating.

Every time another child was chosen, a pang of emptiness gnawed at her. She could no longer even count how many times she had cried alone in her dark little room.

Sona had thought that, even if this noble duke had adopted her on a whim, she would simply serve him like the other servants—wearing roughspun clothes, waiting upon him humbly.

But when she arrived with him at the small castle’s gardens under the evening glow, she was immediately taken by a group of maids in elegant white dresses into a bright, spacious chamber.

They removed her only dress and washed her from head to toe, leaving no corner untouched—from her hair to her toes, every trace of grime was cleansed away. Two sharp-eyed matronly women inspected her thoroughly, their gaze so piercing that she almost bolted. Trembling, she wondered what the duke intended.

Did the noble duke wish her to share his bed? The thought crept into her mind as she endured the maids’ meticulous attention and those women’s hawk-like stares, filling her with a nervous mix of unease and… expectation.

At last, they dressed her in a robe unlike anything she had ever dreamed of—a moon-white gown, as light as clouds and as smooth as porcelain. It seemed to weigh nothing at all, gliding against her skin without friction.

So fine a garment made her uneasy, leaving her feeling almost naked, her face flushed with embarrassment.

When the maids brought her to a large, bright room, she saw thick velvet carpets beneath her feet, a chandelier of glowing crystals above, and a vast circular bed more than three meters across. Surely, this must be the duke’s chamber.

The maids departed respectfully, leaving her in a daze. Their words went unheard. Sitting alone on the cloudlike bed, her thoughts swirled in chaos.

Was she truly expected to sleep with the duke? Why else would she have been bathed and brought here? The notion left her both nervous and shy, yet with a flicker of anticipation.

But as night passed and no one came, sorrow welled in her chest. How could a noble duke possibly desire a wretched girl cursed by the gods?

She buried her small face in the pillow, soft as a cloud, and felt the ache of disappointment.

Knock, knock, knock.

Suddenly, a rapping came at the oak door. Before she could respond, the door creaked open.

Mo Chen, carrying new clothes for Sona, had come early in the morning. But when he pushed open the door, he was met with an alluring sight: Sona lay draped on the edge of the white bed, her long legs lifted, her thin moon-white nightgown slipped up to her hips.

Her feet were as pale and flawless as jade, her slender calves gleaming like porcelain. Between her tightly pressed thighs, he glimpsed the faint curve of her hips.

“Well then… did you sleep well last night?” He reluctantly tore his gaze away and spoke gently.

Hearing the door, Sona hadn’t yet risen when she heard that warm, familiar voice—the duke’s voice!

Startled, she leapt up like a frightened fawn. But the bed’s softness betrayed her expectations; her feet found no solid ground. She stumbled and pitched forward.

Mo Chen froze as the girl’s delicate body toppled toward him—her reaction far more dramatic than he could have imagined.

In an instant, she was upon him. Her ample chest pressed squarely against his face, driving him backward with irresistible force.

Thud.

The two crashed to the carpeted floor. If not for the thick velvet cushioning, he might have been bedridden for days.

Even so, Mo Chen struggled. Sona’s bosom smothered his face, cutting off his breath, while her soft hips pinned his chest, crushing the little air he had left.

Panicked, he pushed her off, gasping for breath, his face flushed red.

At that moment, he truly realized—being smothered to death by a large chest was no joke!