Hearing Riven's words, Faen shook his head.
"Though both are prophets, in Ionia, the greatest prophet is known as the Enlightened One, Karma."
Riven raised an eyebrow in surprise and asked bluntly, "The Enlightened One, Karma? What kind of thing is that?"
"If those old pedants in the Placidium heard you say that, they'd definitely frown and roll their eyes at you. Then, once they realized you're a Noxian, they'd likely explain it to you in a gentle, harmonious tone, trying to make you grasp the profound meaning of 'Balance.'" Faen shook his head with a trace of helplessness.
In a sense, Ionians were "lenient to outsiders but strict with their own"—not out of a desire to flatter foreigners, but because their traditions were deeply entwined with the many layers of the spirit realm. Much like people in cold regions are fond of stews, Ionians became extremely peace-loving due to the nature of the spirit realm, rather than out of self-deprecation or simple submissiveness.
Riven frowned, still not quite understanding. But Faen didn't say more; instead, he sat on the bed and patted the space between his spread legs.
Seeing this gesture, a look of profound disgust surfaced on Riven's face. Although she was his guard and servant in name—even his slave—after spending time with him, she had come to understand certain aspects of his personality. Faen wouldn't get angry at someone's reaction, even if that reaction was one of resentment or repulsion.
According to Riven's understanding, this was likely because Faen preferred his bed partners to possess their own unique, shining souls.
That way, during the act of coupling, he could strip away their glamorous outer shells one by one, twisting their love and dependency until it reached the very marrow of their souls. He wanted them to be unable to refuse his demands even in public, eventually reaching a state where they would tirelessly enjoy the humiliation and degradation he provided.
He took pleasure in training these leaders, representatives, stars, and idols—women worshipped by thousands—into creatures who would lose all reason with a single thrust of his "baguette." He wanted them to kneel on the ground like female dogs, swaying their hips and begging for his entry, craving to be pumped full like cream puffs, praying to conceive his "children of love" in their wombs... maximizing his own twisted sense of possessiveness and conquest.
From this perspective, Faen's character was as vile as it could possibly be; calling him the world's most loathsome enemy of women, a lust-demon, or a great lecher wouldn't be an exaggeration.
But on the other hand, the help he provided was undeniable. The transformation of Piltover and Zaun was plain to see, and the rebirth of Bilgewater was close at hand. The fact that she could see the truth behind all of this was, without a doubt, entirely due to Faen.
Though she hated to admit it, Riven couldn't deny that the quality of the women around Faen was incredibly high... and that "quality" wasn't just about their looks—though they were certainly all beautiful.
Faen's aesthetic taste was quite refined, and he was exceptionally skilled at "developing" the female body. Take Vi, for example; her once-hard body lines had become significantly softer and rounder under Faen's care. As her femininity increased, her tomboyish charm became even more intense. At times, even Riven could clearly perceive that alluring mix of handsomeness and beauty. Especially when Vi was arching her back and moaning beneath Faen, her body molded into his shape—even as a bystander, Riven could feel the raw impact of their union.
Aside from their looks, the talent, ideals, and ambitions of these girls... honestly, Riven sometimes felt inferior. Compared to the grand visions of Zeri and Caitlyn, who aimed to change the lives of entire city-states, Riven's own ambition had only ever been to fight, accumulate military merit, and climb the ranks. And recently, she had lost even that ideal.
A weapon without a target, not knowing why it fights or if it even fights for itself... does such a thing truly have value? Did she even have the right to stand beside those girls?
Thinking this, Riven exhaled a heavy breath and knelt before Faen with a low spirit. She bowed her head, opened her plump red lips, and unzipped Faen's trousers, taking the not-yet-expanded "baguette" into her mouth to slowly massage and toy with it.
Though she hadn't surrendered her virginity yet, back in the Twin Cities, Riven had been driven into a daze by her spiritual resonance with Seraphine while the singer was being thoroughly taken by Faen. Afterward, Faen had grabbed her by her bunny ears and shoved his rod deep into her esophagus for a "cleaning," before forcing her to lick his wrinkled, hairy "ping-pong ball" sac.
While Riven's logic told her that memory was humiliating and infuriating, her body and emotions felt otherwise. Constrained by her status as Faen's slave and potential "breeding bag," she had helped him clean up more than once... even helping clean the other girls, licking away the nutritious "milk" that overflowed from their bodies while they were too exhausted to move.
Through this silent endurance, Riven's skills with her mouth had become quite remarkable, even if her other techniques were still lacking.
Faen, however, was a bit helpless. "I never said you were my slave or a future breeding bag, alright? Don't belittle yourself like that, and don't pin false accusations on me."
Riven didn't speak; she just continued her silent work and gave him a sharp roll of her eyes to express her attitude.
Faen didn't get angry; he just stroked Riven's head and silently enjoyed the female warrior's service. As the rod began to expand under the perfect temperature and friction, Faen said unhurriedly, "You really don't need to devalue yourself. Conviction and ideals don't have a hierarchy of 'high' or 'low.' A brief period of confusion is merely a step toward finding the true meaning of your life."
Riven glanced up at him in surprise and took the opportunity to spit out the baguette, which had already expanded to its limit in her throat. She wiped away the trailing saliva, then pressed her face close again to give it light kisses, humming, "That sounds nice, but you're probably only saying it to get me into bed, right?"
"I can get you into bed whenever I want; I don't need to make things up for that," Faen shook his head helplessly. "I truly hope you can find your own path and realize your value in life."