Watching the awakened Syndra and hearing her say "happy millennium"—though it was a simple phrase—Faen raised an eyebrow in surprise as he met her gaze.
"You... came over?" Faen asked in astonishment. "From the other side of the Spirit Realm?"
"There has always been only one Syndra, just different choices." Hearing Faen's question, Syndra simply blinked and smiled. "This time, I won't let Teacher slip away so easily."
Hearing Syndra's words, Faen nodded.
Through her smile and gaze, Faen could feel that while the Syndra before him was indeed the girl he met in the Dreaming Pool's illusion, unlike him—who returned straight to the Material Realm upon leaving—Syndra had experienced something different.
Through the shifting light in the girl's eyes, Faen could tell that she had gone through much more after he left.
But now was not the time to deal with that.
He exchanged a glance with Syndra. Though no words were spoken, sensing Faen's gaze, Syndra nodded peacefully, clearly understanding his intentions.
After that, Faen turned his gaze to the surrounding crowd. He opened his hand, and a massive amount of water vapor began to gather at an astonishing speed.
In the blink of an eye, it transformed into a surging torrent swirling around his fingertips.
Meeting the suddenly relaxed gazes of Irelia and the others, Faen felt a trace of emotion.
While to Irelia and the rest, Faen might have only been gone for a few hours, to Faen, it had been a solid dozen years since he last saw them.
However, Faen didn't rush to catch up. He manipulated the flowing water to lift his body high into the air.
"Let's clean up Fae'lor first."
Having successfully unsealed Syndra and being on Fae'lor Island, where he didn't have to worry about damaging the Spirit Realm, Faen wasted no words.
He maximized his control over the water, sweeping it across the entirety of Fae'lor in an instant.
Saying it "swept across" made it sound fast, but it was actually a slow and methodical process.
Faen had no intention of letting a single fish slip through the net, nor did he plan to leave behind any hidden marks, traps, or contingency plans set by LeBlanc.
To the Noxians' perception, this wasn't immediately obvious either.
At first, they only felt the moisture in the air suddenly thicken.
When the dense water curtain spread, it felt as if they had just been licked from head to toe by a cow's tongue.
It sounded weird, but to the elite Noxian legions, such a damp environment wasn't enough to shake their will to fight.
But in the very next moment, above the chaotic battlefield of Fae'lor, countless fine water droplets became visibly suspended in the air.
These crystal-clear drops refracted the light of the stars and the moon, as well as the cold glints of their blades, hanging in the sky like countless jewels.
This bizarre sight caused the Noxian soldiers to look up in shock, their faces filled with vigilance and confusion.
After all, since arriving in Ionia, they had already witnessed far too many bizarre meteorological phenomena.
Unfortunately, before these soldiers could comprehend the meaning behind this strange weather...
In the next second, the silence was shattered.
Under Faen's control, what broke the silence wasn't a deafening explosion, but the deep, rumbling roar of billions of gallons of rushing water.
First, a thick, impenetrable fog rose from the surface of the sea. Then, this fog surged toward Fae'lor from all directions!
Around the isolated island, the crisscrossing waterways and the vast expanse of the ocean seemed to be seized by an invisible giant hand in that moment, transforming into roaring, azure water dragons that shot straight into the sky!
Hovering above the ruins of the sanctuary, Faen slightly opened his arms, the glow of magic shining in his eyes.
On his arm, the Seven-Hand Curse Mark of Ashlesh let out a silent, shrill shriek of laughter.
The next moment, the flood was no longer just flowing; under Faen's control, it became solid, physical violence.
As Faen swung his arm, the surging water transformed into a moving, towering azure wall dozens of meters high, bulldozing through the narrow mountain passes with unstoppable momentum.
Caught within it, the Noxian battle formations and siege engines were instantly swallowed and torn apart in the face of this natural might, like children's toys.
Warships were smashed into splintered wood before they could even hoist their sails.
The roars of the soldiers charging forward were drowned out by the sound of shattering war machines, and they, along with their commanders, were reduced to blurry foam in the water.
Heavy suits of armor were scoured by the currents. Even the most physically resilient warriors could only curl up helplessly under the torrent and be swept into the sea.
The armor that had once brought despair to their enemies now became their iron coffins as they plummeted into the oceanic abyss.
Yet, this seemingly barbaric and brutal water displayed astonishing sentience on the other side.
In Irelia's sight, as the water rushed toward her, she initially thought that no matter how much her Senior Brother controlled the force, she would still feel some impact.
But when the water touched her, forget impact—it wasn't even cold. It was warm, like a spring breeze brushing her face.
Under Irelia's amazed gaze, the water bypassed the carved Ionian pillars and flowed over the fortress walls that the Noxians had continuously broken and excavated.
It delved deep inside, precisely hunting down every single invader.
Once locked on, a violent whirlpool would drag them underwater, or the immense water pressure would smash them directly against the walls, grinding flesh and bone into a bloody smear before washing it all away.
In everyone's eyes, the massive army that had nearly exhausted them was wiped out in an instant.
As the mist cleared, Fae'lor had been completely transformed.
All the clamor was gone; only the distant sea remained turbulent, struggling to accommodate the massive influx of water and corpses.
On the slightly murky surface of the water, dotted with driftwood, Noxian legion banners and wreckage floated densely, but not a single figure remained standing.
The moonlight pierced through the moisture, landing on the gradually calming sea. Before long, it reflected a shimmering, tranquil peace.
Only then did Faen slowly lower his arms, the aquamarine light in his eyes fading.
He clapped his hands, looked at the group around him, and said, "Mission accomplished. It's time for a good drink."