In this world, nothing is given, only taken by those with the power and the will to do so. Today, we honor a man who embodied what it is to be Noxian, a man who would never be denied victory, even by death.

I remember clearly the day he died. Our hated enemy had marched on us in force. They stood at our walls, ten soldiers fielded for every one of our own, their craven king hiding behind his army to witness us scoured from the face of Valoran with his own eyes. While others counseled me to bar the gates and force our foes to fight for every inch of Noxian soil, this man demanded we march out and face them. He would not cower behind the city walls while Noxus's enemies still drew breath. With our warriors at his back, he strode as a giant through the Demacian rabble with one clear purpose: to cut their army's head from its body.

Jarvan's royal guardsmen believed they could halt his charge. They were wrong. He cut them down, one by one, until only he and the king remained. Battered and fatigued, any lesser man would have given up the attack, but he was a true son of Noxus. He battled Jarvan beyond the point of breaking and was finally bested… but not beaten. With his dying breath, he locked his fingers around the king's throat and broke the will of a nation.

Every Noxian should look upon this memorial and know this is what I demand of you: If you die, do so gloriously. Make the world falter at your loss.