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The nobles and merchants of Zaun had long since gathered in Piltover, while the common folk remained in Zaun.
Piltover controlled land and sea trade routes across both sides of the continent. With its strong foundation, it grew increasingly prosperous, and its culture and technology flourished.
Zaun, on the other hand, was populated only by commoners, with no real means of wealth. Their only path was through chemical industries and alchemy, selling their labor for cheap wages in the factories built by Upper City merchants.
Thus, the Upper City remained forever civilized, prosperous, and clean, while the Lower City was plagued by the factories' wastewater, garbage, and alchemical fumes—tormented constantly by pollution and disease.
The pollution was so severe that whenever guards from the Upper City descended, they had to wear gas masks, and even then, they seldom came down to inspect.
Because of this, the Lower City developed an extra source of income: the black market trade of contraband.
Many visitors who came to Piltover for its prosperity would also sneak into the Undercity alleys to buy contraband before leaving.
Six years ago, the people of the Lower City, unable to endure the Upper City's exploitation any longer, decided to rise in revolt and seize control of the Upper City.
Their hope was that their children would no longer have to live amidst toxic fumes, but instead enjoy the same life and education as the children above.
The leaders of that uprising were Vander and Silco.
But the technological gap was too vast. Cold steel stood no chance against firearms. In the end, after sacrificing countless lives, they were forced to retreat in despair.
They never managed to cross that chasm-like bridge of Piltover and set foot in the Upper City.
But today—they succeeded.
Led by Vi and George, they not only stormed across the bridge, but also fought their way through every defense, charging straight into the Council Hall, capturing the six high-ranking councilors, and seizing complete control of the Upper City's armed forces.
"Dispel!"
Seeing the entire Upper City already under Vi's control, George finally feigned drunkenness, collapsing onto a long bench in the council chamber.
At the same time, he secretly lifted Vander's coma spell from afar.
In the underground cellar of the Last Drop tavern, Vander slowly opened his eyes, sitting up as he held his aching head and muttered:
"That boy really can drink… I, Vander, after all these years, actually got taken down by him. They'll never let me live this down."
"Vander, you're awake!"
Powder, who had been keeping watch by his side, burst into tears of relief and threw herself into his arms.
"Big sister and the others are fighting the Upper City guards—please, go save her!"
"What!"
Vander's heart sank. After quickly learning the situation from Powder and the others, he grabbed his gauntlets and rushed out.
He never imagined that in just a few hours of drunken stupor, things could escalate this far.
As one of the leaders of the uprising six years ago, he knew all too well how such conflicts ended. It could only be the same as last time—another tragedy. He had to stop it before it was too late.
He sprinted madly, but when he reached the place where three factions had once stood off, he froze in shock.
The ground was littered with unconscious Piltover guards, as well as Silco's men—but Vi and most of the Undercity fighters were nowhere to be seen.
"Boss, you're here!"
The few injured and those left behind to guard the area rushed over, excited to see Vander. Without waiting for him to ask, they eagerly recounted everything that had happened.
"Who exactly is this George?"
After hearing the story, Vander was stunned once again.
Drunk and bare-handed, George had taken down the majority of Piltover's guards—and even knocked out Silco's faction.
That kind of power was like a celestial being descending to earth!
And yet, in all the legends of the Celestials, none were known for their ability to drink like this.
Perhaps it was his own ignorance. He had heard rumors that in distant cities, countless powerful individuals existed. Maybe they were true after all.
Crossing the Piltover Bridge—where countless of his brothers and sisters had once fallen without success—Vander's eyes grew wet.
"I hope everything goes smoothly…"
Seeing no corpses of his Undercity comrades along the way, he breathed a little easier and pressed on toward the Upper City.
He had never truly wanted to keep bowing to the Upper City's exploitation. He wasn't content to be their slave.
The only reason he had endured was because of the countless deaths six years ago—so many children had lost their parents, so many had become orphans.
He hadn't wanted anyone else to die, so he compromised.
But if there was truly a chance to take the Upper City—fulfill the old dream—without further sacrifice… why would he hesitate?
As he ran through the streets, seeing most areas already under Undercity control, his heart gradually steadied.
Finally, when he reached the council chamber and saw Vi safe and sound, he felt true relief at last.
"Vi, you're safe… thank the heavens!"
"Vander, you're awake! We've taken the Upper City! Never again will they look down on us!"
Seeing Vander, Vi threw aside her bloodstained gauntlets and rushed forward, hugging him tightly.
No matter how strong or brave she was, she was still only a fourteen-year-old girl. After enduring so much slaughter, it was impossible not to feel fear.
"Vi, you are my pride."
Vander patted her back. His eyes then shifted to George, who was sprawled across a chair, snoring drunkenly, and his thoughts turned to the challenges ahead.
The Upper City had been seized by brute force, but to truly hold it, to realize his dream of a united Zaun—that would be far from easy.
Piltover was a trade city, its Upper City brimming with immense wealth.
Rumor had it that in Piltover, one could find a gold coin every five steps.
Though an exaggeration, it showed how the outside world recognized Piltover's riches.
Previously, the Enforcers' advanced firearms had provided deterrence, and the councilors and merchants had strong ties with powerful factions abroad. With money and connections, they barely fended off foreign greed for Piltover's wealth.
But now, with all the Enforcers defeated and the city's leaders captured, without sufficient power to resist, Piltover would soon be devoured by outside forces.
And the closest threat was none other than Noxus—the war-hungry, plundering madmen. Would they let such a fat prize slip away?
The only reason Noxus hadn't struck Piltover before was because one of the city's councilors, Mel, was the daughter of Clan Medarda's patriarch—one of the most powerful families in Noxus.
Therefore, Vander had to find a way to secure enough strength to defend Piltover. Only then could the newly united Zaun develop stably.
"Perhaps… I must find a way to keep him here."
Even drunk, George's power was monstrous. If he was that strong intoxicated, then sober—he would be even more terrifying.
The future of Zaun needed that strength.
(End of Chapter)