"Because this contract revolves around you as the primary host," Janna replied calmly.
"There is no need for that. I prefer that we be partners with shared interests and goals, rather than a relationship of master and servant or superior and subordinate." Gazing at the serene Janna before him, Faen realized to some extent that Janna's emotions were not as rich as those of an ordinary human. She was closer to the so-called 'kuudere' archetype—silent, stoic, and expressionless. Her words were sparse, her phrasing refined, and she often lapsed into a quiet stillness.
But after thinking it through, Faen sensed that Janna's calmness might not be as simple as it appeared. It was likely related to her current state. Piltover and Zaun were originally one city; now that the city was split, it naturally affected Janna's own condition. Coupled with her continuous weakening over the long ages, her ability to express herself had likely been impacted accordingly.
After all, within the Spirit Realm, apart from primordial demons or primal spirits like Ashlesh and Fiddlesticks—who represented the most fundamental, ancient emotions—any other spirit could face death.
However, some spirits refused to die or be forgotten, so they constantly manufactured specific emotions to sustain themselves. Thus, they became the so-called evil spirits or demons.
As for Janna... her essence was that of the ever-changing wind. Logically, her emotions should be more volatile. But as things stood, her state was clearly dire. She might need to wait until the two cities achieved mutual understanding and integration within the Spirit Realm before she could return to her perfect, complete form.
In many accounts, Janna seemed to have been in seclusion for a long time. In reality, during Nilah's legendary journeys in the Legends of Runeterra lore, it was with Janna's assistance that Nilah successfully crossed the great oceans to reach the Freljord and challenge the Volibear, the Unrelenting Storm.
In that timeline, the Twin Cities developed separately, each evolving its own distinct civilization. It differed significantly from the worldview of Arcane and the core League of Legends game, representing different timelines within the same universe.
Beside him, hearing Faen's words, a flicker of confusion crossed Janna's brow, but she quickly returned to her calm state and said, "If this is your requirement, then I shall comply."
"I would much rather the answer be that you agree," Faen corrected.
"As you wish. I agree."
Faen gave up on persuasion and directly reached his hand toward Janna. Seeing this, Janna nodded. A moment later, upon Faen's hand, the runic sigils representing Ashlesh's concept began to twist violently, radiating a brilliant cyan-blue light. As the light flared, everyone present could clearly feel an inexplicable surge of "joy" beginning to circulate through the air.
It was no longer a gentle emotional soothing. It had transformed into a literal, physical storm of aphrodisiac power, thick with the scent of heavy male musk.
Zeri, being at the forefront, let out a high-pitched, piercing scream. Her petite body jerked and bounced as if hit by a massive electrical charge. Under the detonation of the "Source of Joy," her body—which had already been thoroughly broken in and developed by Faen—instantly burst its banks. Her nipples, constricted by her tight lingerie, became as hard as pebbles, rubbing frantically against the fabric. Between her flushed thighs, the thick, white concentrated milk that had been pumped into her lower abdomen that morning and had not yet been fully drained came gushing out with a messy "squelch," drenching her inner thighs in a muddy, lewd slurry. The girl's eyes instantly lost focus, dilating into dazed heart shapes, and the green electric arcs shooting from her hair even took on a decadent, slutty pink hue.
Even the ethereal Janna was not spared. As the contract deepened, her pure spiritual form was forcibly invaded by the domineering demonic power within Faen. This "ultimate bliss," originating from the most primitive impulses of life, forced the patron goddess to let out the most wanton, lewd moans since her birth. Beneath her snowy-white veils, her originally illusory spirit form actually began to gain physical density due to the sheer intensity of the pleasure. One could clearly see her proud, towering peaks heaving violently, with two crimson points appearing semi-visible behind the white gauze. Deep within her sacred valley, crystal-clear spiritual fluids began to seep out, dripping onto the ancient altar.
Seraphine, standing nearby, felt her legs turn to jelly as she collapsed to the ground. In her senses, the melody of the entire world had turned into the lewd, heavy panting of sexual intercourse. She discovered with horror that her private parts were already a soaking mess. Sticky love juices overflowed from the edges of her panties, causing her youthful body to instinctively rub against the hard floor, desperate for some form of rough, brutal filling.
The air was saturated with enough dopamine and pheromones to cause suffocation. In this feast of the Spirit Realm, everyone's reason was completely demolished by the flood of primal carnal desire. Only Faen remained amidst the mud and the sounds of squirting fluids, coldly and proudly sensing the sublimation of his power.
This joy was not merely the "Joy Factor"; it was pure joy itself. This first spark of joy, produced by the very first consciousness of Runeterra, allowed those present to clearly feel the ancient history and the long-forgotten past contained within it. However, the vast expanse of time and change within it was far too immense. Those without sufficient mental strength could only glimpse fragments of the past they were familiar with.
Whether it was Silco, Jinx, Soona, or anyone else present, within that primordial joy of Runeterra's birth, all they could see were the most beautiful memories hidden in the depths of their hearts. Before they could experience it further, the power quickly dissipated with a gust of wind. On the back of Faen's right hand, a new mark of a storm had appeared alongside the seven-handed sigil of Ashlesh.
In Faen's perception, the power within his body now included the joy of Ashlesh and a portion of the storm belonging to Zaun itself.
This storm was not merely about controlling the wind. Similar to Ashlesh's flowing water, its essence was the yearning of the Zaunite people for a happy life. It was hope and revolution. Tracing this power deep into his senses, Faen was now able to communicate directly with Janna on a spiritual level. This communication bypassed the distance and physical barriers of the Material Realm, occurring directly within their Spirit Realms. It required no superfluous words; instead, it was a resonance similar to what Ionians advocated, allowing the other party to directly grasp the full meaning of what one intended to express, regardless of language or tone.
Closing his eyes to sense it, accompanied by the traces of the wind, Faen could clearly feel every inch of Zaun's land and the flow of every breeze. With a slight focus of his will, he could manipulate them. Although this control would fail once he left the region of Zaun, Faen did not mind—for his primary combat method still relied on the flow of water.
Just as Faen was reflecting on this, a violent, cyan-blue silhouette suddenly emerged within his vision. Accompanied by a riot of blue light, a distorted voice appeared in Faen's mind—"You bastard! How dare you take my blessing—"
This voice was likely Ashlesh, Faen guessed. Before the voice could finish venting its rage, another voice overrode Ashlesh's roar.
"Ha! I felt it! Beautifully done, little one! I was worried you'd be seduced by Ashlesh into walking an evil path, but you are even more excellent than I imagined! To actually make this stinking demon this furious!"
"Are you... Nilah?" Faen asked curiously.
Though Faen had been saved by Nilah once before, his abilities back then were still weak. Despite his diligent training in Ionia, he had only reached the level of a peak mortal expert like Riven or Darius. He had been knocked unconscious simply by the shockwaves of Nilah's battle. In the end, it was Ashlesh—refusing to give up and wanting to leave himself a backdoor—who had secretly completed the blessing upon Faen. There had been very little actual communication between Faen and Nilah.
"It's me!" Nilah's voice overflowed with an unceasing, exuberant joy.
"I'm not entirely sure what you've been up to, but I've heard the news! Many people have felt joy because of you! Even the city-states are constantly improving because of you—well, I should say they are becoming happier! It is a good joy, not the wicked joy of Ashlesh. Especially that little girl... I can hardly imagine how you made someone that happy! I felt it all the way in Camavor!"
Little girl? Joy? You wouldn't be talking about Zeri, would you?
Faen was suspicious but didn't dwell on it. Instead, he asked, "Where are you now? Regarding the matter of Ashlesh, I think we should have a good talk... I don't want this fellow escaping either."
"Haha! I'm relieved to hear you say that! No problem, but it will have to wait a while. I'm currently on a boat heading toward Camavor."
On the boundless sea, standing upon a broken skiff, Nilah—tall, with healthy wheat-colored skin and dressed in goose-yellow robes—carried an eternal, unfading cheerfulness on her face.
"Once I've finished off those wicked dragons that have caused so much suffering, I'll come find you! It'll be a good chance to study how you make people so happy! By the way, what was your name again?"
"Faen," he replied. "But the matter of how I make people happy is still up for debate..."
"We'll talk about it then! Ha, another sea monster has arrived. My legendary journey is about to gain another stroke of glory!"
Listening to Nilah excitedly charging into a new round of combat, Faen blinked and didn't continue the contact.
Wicked dragons in Camavor? That should be the ancestor of dragons there, the Camavoran mother dragon? Thinking of this, Faen shook his head. He could only say that Nilah was indeed formidable. An adult dragon could easily destroy cities, and a legendary dragon like the ancestor was not a bit weaker than a primal demigod like Volibear. Yet Nilah was willing to travel thousands of miles across mountains and seas just to become a legend by slaying it. Truly, she was a champion worthy of inheriting Ashlesh's power.
Though the exchange was brief, the information gained was sufficient. Ashlesh was constrained by his contract with Nilah, unable to move freely in the Material Realm. Even when faced with Faen selling out his essence to sign contracts with other Spirit Realm beings, the demon could only erupt in impotent rage, unable to make any effective countermove.
This made Faen realize one thing—he could never fully become Ashlesh. Because Faen was a hybrid life form, half Spirit Realm and half Material Realm. This prevented him from controlling Ashlesh's essence as easily as his own limbs. He could only use the concepts Ashlesh mastered to grow stronger by collecting joy.
However, by signing contracts with other pure Spirit Realm beings, Faen could act in Ashlesh's stead, giving away Ashlesh's essence in exchange for things Faen needed. To Ashlesh, this was undoubtedly unacceptable. You, Faen, signed a contract and can reclaim it whenever you want, but you're using my assets as collateral for your trades? I blessed you so you would fall into depravity and let me possess you for a rebirth. Look at what you're doing now! How have you ended up kidnapping me instead?!
But Faen? Faen didn't care at all. It was quite literally a case of the son selling the father's land without a hint of heartache.
A bird in the hand is worth ten in the bush. To Faen, trading away an essence of Ashlesh that he couldn't even fully master in exchange for Janna's cooperation and the stability of a major trade hub was a deal where he couldn't lose. Based on this, it didn't matter if he yielded some benefits to Janna. After all, in the absence of emotional bonds, the binding of interests could make a relationship even more stable and reliable.
Thinking of this, Faen cast his gaze toward Janna. With a simple exchange of looks, all the information was rapidly communicated. Faen then turned his attention to the others gathered around.