Arcane: The Gods Want Me to Pick a Route-Chapter 137: Hextech Cannon, Singed’s Daughter

Chapter 137: Chapter 137: Hextech Cannon, Singed’s Daughter

Two days later, the first Hextech cannon in the Twin Cities was finally developed.

Jayce had dragged a whole crew of craftsmen into an all-night rush, grinding for more than forty hours straight to forge the very first Hextech cannon.

The entire cannon was a vivid azure-blue, its body resembling crystal. The outer shell was made from an extremely tough mineral, while the inside of the barrel had a layer of iron plating added to help it cool down quickly after firing—so it could shoot repeatedly and turn into a true barrage weapon.

This first model was a smaller cannon, designed to be easy to disassemble and mount onto Hextech airships, so the weight wouldn’t overload the craft.

And Logan calling it "small" wasn’t wrong—because in Logan’s mind, a "real" cannon was the kind of steel monster that weighed hundreds of tons, had a barrel over ten meters long, and a bore hundreds of millimeters wide.

He’d watched plenty of World War II documentaries—he wasn’t just making stuff up.

But the Hextech cannon Jayce built was only about as tall as a person. Its barrel was only a few dozen millimeters wide, the body was roughly 1.2 meters long, and once you loaded it with specially-made chem-bombs and used a Hextech gemstone as the propulsion core, it could strike a target five kilometers away in five seconds—with terrifying accuracy.

Past five kilometers, the accuracy dropped sharply. And at ten kilometers... you were basically just firing and praying.

Looking at this thing, Logan didn’t know what the Noxians would think when they saw it. But right now, the Twin Cities were ecstatic—because what Jinx had said had kicked open a brand-new door in their minds.

Weapons that hadn’t been used much before—things that weren’t even "weapons," just mining or forging tools—were all being dragged out, studied, and reimagined for what they could do on a battlefield.

A weapon was simply something that could harm the enemy.

A rock you picked up was a weapon. A wooden club was a weapon. So naturally, if you used these tools the right way, they could become excellent weapons too.

What mattered was learning how to use them.

That was the philosophy the Twin Cities’ "weapons master," Jinx, had hammered into them.

Piltover also set aside a portion of its airships and began installing Hextech cannons onto them.

They used Hextech gemstones engraved with acceleration runes as the core, chemtech powder charges as shells, and kept all kinds of biochemical gas bombs as backup—though that stuff...

Silco thought it was extremely effective.

Vander thought it was inhumane.

Logan’s view was closer to Vander’s.

The things Singed made really were inhumane. Some of them weren’t even designed to kill—they were designed to torture. A lot of the biochemical concoctions he developed were meant to alter human genetics.

That kind of weapon couldn’t be used.

If you carpeted a battlefield with that stuff, you wouldn’t just kill people—you’d create a horde of warped half-human, half-monster abominations. And after that, how would the other city-states look at the Twin Cities?

Who would even dare trade with them?

Magic was mysterious, and on Valoran—aside from Demacia—most places didn’t fear magic. But dark magic was different. "Darkness" was a word people rejected on instinct.

So if busybodies spun the story and framed biochemical agents as demonic power or dark magic... the Twin Cities would spend forever trying to explain themselves.

Besides, chem-bombs were already more than enough.

Noxian soldiers didn’t wear armor as refined as Demacians did. Sure, Noxus possessed runesteel technology—but clearly, runesteel wasn’t something every soldier could afford.

Only Noxians with battlefield merit, with honor to their name, could earn runesteel equipment.

Noxus having the craft didn’t mean they had endless runesteel.

Otherwise, Riven wouldn’t have ended up fleeing to Ionia to live as a farm girl—only to be dragged back. A big reason LeBlanc sent people after her was for the runic greatsword in her hands. Even in Noxus, that blade was extremely precious.

Which meant: ordinary Noxian soldiers without runesteel protection?

One volley of chem-bombs, and they wouldn’t have any outcome besides being turned into ash.

So Logan couldn’t help thinking—okay, even if they do have runesteel... can runesteel actually withstand a chem-bomb?

Because chem-bombs weren’t magic.

On Ambessa, Logan had seen "Magebane" gear forged from runesteel—stuff that truly could absorb magic—but it only worked against magic.

Hextech rifle rounds couldn’t harm Noxians wearing Magebane gear.

But Zaunite chem-guns could punch straight through them.

Which meant runesteel—at least Magebane—only countered magic. The effect was a lot like Demacia’s petricite, wasn’t it?

Damn... thinking about it like that, the Twin Cities really didn’t need to fear Noxus that much.

What they should fear was Demacia.

Demacia had aerial forces. With their dragonguard cavalry, Demacians wouldn’t be afraid of airship dogfights. And the heavy war-armor they wore would let them withstand far more of the Twin Cities’ weapons.

And there was also... Demacia’s elite. Especially the Dauntless Vanguard.

That unit’s soldiers had the best physical conditioning on Valoran. Calling them "everyone’s basically a mini Vander" wouldn’t even be exaggerating. Logan had once watched a Demacian cinematic—Garen joining the Dauntless Vanguard, training up step by step—and a few scenes had left Logan speechless.

They were hauling multi-ton statues like it was nothing.

And later on, when Garen became a frontline officer—Sword-Captain of the first shieldwall—he had an iron chain tied around his waist, and he was running while dragging a multi-ton statue behind him.

Logan genuinely didn’t understand it.

Garen didn’t use magic. He hadn’t been reforged by any magical ritual. So how was his physical ability that monstrous?

No—forget Garen. Every elite Dauntless Vanguard soldier was monstrous.

Well... the good news was that Demacia didn’t wage wars of conquest. Even when they marched out on the offensive, like when they fought Noxus, it was to reclaim land Noxus had seized. In the end it was still a defensive war.

Demacia was wealthy. They didn’t need to survive the way Noxus did—feeding war with war, fighting for territory and population. Demacia had never wanted to rule Valoran. What they wanted was peaceful coexistence and protecting their homeland.

So when the Twin Cities dealt with Demacia in the future, it wouldn’t be the same kind of situation as Noxus.

And after Jayce developed the Hextech cannon, he looked like he’d been reborn.

He handed the blueprints over to others and immediately started working on new Hextech cannons with different traits.

Jinx’s words had reshaped how he defined "weapon," so naturally, different terrains demanded different weapons.

Right now, Jayce planned to develop two more new Hextech cannons—both too heavy to mount on airships. In Jayce’s mind, each of them would weigh around a hundred tons.

But they could be stationed in Piltover as defensive weapons.

The first cannon would focus on range—Jayce wanted it to strike enemies dozens of miles away, with pinpoint accuracy.

The second would focus on raw destructive power.

Because didn’t Noxus have some "Immortal Bastion"?

What Jayce wanted... was a Hextech supercannon that could punch through the Immortal Bastion in a single shot.

Lately, he’d been working in the lab like a man possessed.

But after Logan heard the idea, he couldn’t help wanting to complain.

Because Logan had seen the kind of supercannons Jayce was dreaming about—the classic German siege guns from World War II. Their power was downright insane. Walls and fortresses that "could never be breached" would just get pulverized by a single shell. No matter how many soldiers you sent, the position couldn’t be held.

But the problem was...

Could the Twin Cities actually afford the development time, money, and manpower required for something like that?

And even if they could build it—those guns needed hundreds, sometimes thousands of personnel just to operate. Assembly and transport alone were a nightmare. Sure, Logan could be a human draft animal and help pull the thing around...

But what about the crews?

Where were the Twin Cities going to find thousands of people whose entire job was "serve the supercannon"?

Still...

Logan was excited too.

If Jayce really developed a weapon on that level, the Twin Cities would be truly unstoppable on Valoran.

Some people might say Piltover and Zaun were opening Pandora’s box—that nobody could predict what Runeterra would become once such weapons existed.

But living on Runeterra meant living inside Pandora’s box to begin with.

The power of demigods was immeasurable. During the Noxian–Ionian War, Karma casually fanned out a simple strike and sank Noxian warships, sending thousands of Noxians into the sea. Shuriman Ascended could erase hilltops with a lazy backhand. And above the sky there were the Aspects... and beings who could crush a planet with a mere gesture.

Compared to them, a Hextech cannon wasn’t even a toy—it was less than a toy.

So unless someone rolled up with a planet-killer warship...

Damn. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Who said only magic had no ceiling—only magic had a future?

Technology...

Technology also had a future, and a ceiling no one could measure.

Logan was thinking that, thrilled, when—

"BOOM!"

At Hoskel’s instruction, the Enforcer operating the Hextech cannon loaded another shell and fired. Hoskel raised his binoculars toward the sea.

A towering plume of water exploded upward. Spray surged into the air—along with countless fish.

Logan didn’t need binoculars. His vision made the scene a little blurry at that distance, but it was more than enough.

And right then, Singed walked up beside Logan.

He held a pocket watch in his hand.

The moment Logan saw him, he knew what Singed was here to ask.

Ever since Logan returned to Zaun, Singed had been showing up every few days, asking about a way to bring Orianna back. But because Logan didn’t have enough energy points, he’d made Singed wait.

But Singed had personally witnessed Logan come back from the dead.

How could he possibly wait calmly after that?

The longer he waited, the more afraid he became—afraid that hope was fading. The waiting turned into wind and rain in his mind, battering that tiny flame of hope until it grew dimmer and dimmer.

So Singed stepped up beside Logan, about to beg again.

Even Singed knew it was annoying—showing up every few days to ask the same thing—but he truly had no choice.

Everything Singed had done in the Twin Cities—abandoning his professor position at Piltover University, going down into the Lanes, working with Silco—had all been for his daughter.

In a way, it was almost funny.

The middle-aged men in the Twin Cities conflict... all of them had been trapped by something.

Silco was.

Vander was.

Singed... was too.

Maybe even Ambessa, in her own way?

Before Singed could speak, Logan beat him to it.

"Perfect timing, Singed. I’m going to ask about Orianna right now. Don’t worry—there will be a way."

Singed froze, then his face lit up. "Really?"

He blurted eagerly, "Then—what do I need to do?"

"First," Logan said, "take me to see Orianna. I need to be very close to her and observe her condition. Then I can tell the existence behind me the exact situation."

To bring Orianna back, Ahri had to see her condition—and for that, Logan needed direct contact so Ahri could read his memory.

Singed nodded without hesitation. Seeing how anxious he was, Logan called out to Silco:

"Silco, Singed and I have something to take care of. We’re leaving for a bit."

Silco didn’t ask what it was. He simply nodded, then smiled at Singed.

"Congratulations, doctor."

Singed looked at him, eyelids lowering, and nodded once.

"Let’s go, Logan. I’ll take you there right now."

"I kept Orianna in my lab," Singed explained on the way. "Her condition is... unusual. To keep her body stable, I built a cold room. Inside, I placed preservative solution."

Logan nodded.

But when they returned to Zaun, Logan told Singed to wait a moment—he needed to prepare something. Singed agreed, and Logan ran alone to the market at the Entresol.

When he came back, he had two large bags.

One was stuffed with snack packages.

The other was packed with books—old ones, judging by how worn they looked.

"This...?" Singed narrowed his eyes. Instinctively, he assumed Logan meant to give those to Orianna—maybe to celebrate her rebirth.

Logan just smiled and said casually, "Gifts for the spirits."

"Let’s go, doctor."

Soon after, Singed led Logan to his private laboratory.

He obviously wasn’t living in a cave anymore, but his location was still classified as a Zaunite restricted zone—citizens were forbidden to enter.

There were simply too many dangerous substances here.

He took Logan up to the second floor, into his room.

Then, inside the room, Singed walked to a bookcase and felt along its surface. After a moment, he pressed down hard.

Click.

The bookcase shifted, revealing a hidden chamber.

Singed looked at Logan. "Please."

Logan stepped closer, curious, and looked inside.

And what he saw was pretty pink wallpaper.

This hidden room was nothing like Singed’s usual space—messy, harsh, reeking of chemtech fumes. This room...

Smelled good.

A faint floral scent lingered in the air. Beautiful dolls were arranged along both sides. In the center stood a princess bed. On top of the bed was a large tank—its glass fully transparent.

Inside the thick fluid, golden hair drifted and fanned out like a waterfall.

And the owner of that hair...

Was a girl with her eyes closed, cheeks still a little round, unbelievably cute.

"..."

Logan stared, utterly speechless.

So Riot really was retconning its own lore in the shadows.

After Arcane aired, plenty of people had guessed that the chemtech man was Orianna’s father—but...

The Orianna in the tank was way too young.

She looked, at most, one or two years older than Isha.

Orianna was a kid?

In the original lore, Orianna absolutely wasn’t a child. She should’ve been a young woman around Jinx’s age—gentle, kind. And to save her, Corin Reveck had modified her body.

That was why, in the game, Orianna’s appearance looked eternally youthful—around twenty or so.

But the girl in front of Logan looked barely twelve.

Riot, what are you even doing to the universe?

This wasn’t "bending the lore."

This was straight-up swapping the character out.

Forcing down his complaints, Logan stood beside Singed and watched as the man reached out, gently touching the tank like he was afraid even a breath might disturb her.

Logan asked softly, "Doctor... how old is she?"

Singed murmured, "Twelve. Her time stopped on that day forever. If that accident hadn’t happened... she’d be about your age now."

Then Singed looked at Logan, sorrow filling his eyes, and said in a low voice, "So I’m begging you. Logan—please. Bring Orianna back to me."

"Yeah," Logan said, voice steady. "Don’t worry. Even if my method doesn’t work, there will be another way in the future. Orianna will come back to you. I promise you that."

From what Logan could see, Orianna’s body had lost all signs of life. And unlike Ahri, Logan couldn’t sense souls—so he didn’t know whether Orianna’s soul was still inside that body.

If it was, that was one thing.

If it wasn’t... then it was going to get complicated.

Because in Orianna’s original story, it was clearly written that after she became the Clockwork automaton, she gradually lost her humanity and emotions—gradually becoming a cold machine built to kill.

If someone was "alive," but had no emotion, no thought, and only moved on instinct...

Did that person still have a soul?

Logan didn’t know.

But if he had to answer...

He’d say no.

Because memory and emotion were what carried the soul. Without feeling, without a heart behind the mind, the inner world became a blank sheet of paper—empty, with nothing written on it.

Logan lowered his gaze to Orianna, then looked back at Singed.

"Alright. I’m going to do it now."

"How long will it take?" Singed asked reflexively.

"Don’t worry," Logan said with a small smile. "For me it might take a little while—but for you, it’ll only be a minute or two. You can stay with your daughter. I’ll be right back."

Singed heard that and remembered something Logan had once told people in Zaun—that during the past year, Logan had stayed somewhere for a very, very long time.

So... was Logan going back to that place now?

Logan didn’t say anything else.

He tied the two bags tight, sat on the edge of the bed, and closed his eyes.

Right in front of Singed, Logan opened his mouth and murmured softly:

"Descend..."

[Welcome back to Spirit Blossom, Summoner.]

//Check out my P@tre0n for 10 extra free Chapters //[email protected]/Razeil0810.