Boom!
A howling gale swept through, stirring up clouds of gray smoke. Wherever the storm passed, the smoke clung like a shadow. Any plant touched by even a trace of it rotted and withered away in an instant.
"Mm."
Duke shook his head at the sight. He had no grudge against these people, nor did he intend to fight them. But since they had chosen to strike first, mercy was no longer an option.
The moment he raised his hand toward the oncoming storm, a faint light flickered in his eyes.
The Force within him burst forth.
In the instant that invisible, formless power spread outward, the air before Duke was compressed into a thin, translucent wall. The gale laden with gray smoke crashed against it like raging waves smashing into an indestructible reef.
There was no way forward but around.
The storm split against his barrier, rolling past Duke's sides. His palm pressed forward slowly, and the Force surged in response, flattening the air wall into a spearhead and driving it straight ahead.
The raging wind was torn apart as easily as cloth snipped down the middle with a pair of shears.
"Don't just stand there! Attack together!"
The voice was crisp, belonging to a woman, the one conjuring the gray miasma. The other three followed her lead, channeling their magic, bending the elements to their will, and launching their own attacks against Duke.
Sparse iron sand hidden in the soil was drawn out like filings to a magnet, rising into the air and forming sharp arrows that rained down from above.
Duke remained calm. With one strong push forward, he shattered the storm of smoke completely, then raised his left hand overhead in a gesture like supporting the sky.
Clang, clang, clang…
Every arrow of iron sand struck against an invisible wall and rebounded with sharp metallic clatters, scattering harmlessly.
Crack!
Electricity flared out of nowhere, purple arcs dancing like serpents across the air, twisting and snapping toward Duke.
He flicked his wrist, red lightning whipping out from his right hand like a blazing lash, lashing directly into the purple current.
Force Lightning!
The two collided and split apart on contact. But the purple bolts crumbled instantly, like loose sand meeting a raging flood. Red lightning surged forward, snaking through the air. A golden shield flashed to life above the group, descending like a great bell to cover them.
Dong!!
The resonant impact rang through the forest, startling flocks of birds into flight, and catching the attention of something else wandering within the woods.
The golden shield shattered under the red lightning. The mage who had conjured it was hurled back, vomiting blood, disbelief written all over his youthful face.
Since awakening his gift, he had never encountered a single foe capable of breaking through his shield. Yet here, in real combat, it had been destroyed as easily as paper.
When the other four saw their companion collapse under magical backlash, Duke stamped the ground. The Force sank deep below the surface, and with a one-handed lift he pulled again, unleashing its power.
The soil beneath the five suddenly writhed like it had grown a life of its own, climbing up their legs and wrapping around their waists in an instant.
The sudden change shocked them to their core.
What?! Defeated in mere breaths?
Even against twice their number of mage-hunters, they could hold their ground, even counterattack. Together, their synergy unleashed far greater power than alone.
And yet here, on the way to their secret gathering, a lone stranger had crushed them utterly?
"You all look surprised?"
Duke gestured, drawing the five before him. He tapped his fingers, and the soil beneath him rose into a crude chair under his command.
Sitting down, he extended his senses through the Force, reading their emotions. His brow lifted slightly, beyond shock, he felt fear, unease, confusion, and deep regret.
"Hm. Quite a swirl of emotions you've got there."
Though the Force let him sense their feelings, his grasp of it was too new. Barely a week since its awakening, it was already extraordinary that he could perform all this in real combat. He could only read their emotions, not their thoughts.
With further training, he might one day pluck thoughts from minds, or even glimpse the future.
"Forget it. I can't read your thoughts yet. Just tell me, why attack me?"
He drew a cigar, clipped it with calm deliberation. The five exchanged uneasy looks. They knew they had kicked an iron wall, but at least they weren't about to be slaughtered.
"You're a mage too?"
The woman who conjured the gray miasma asked softly.
"Yes, I am," Duke replied crisply. "But what does that have to do with our conversation?"
"You're heading to the gathering too?"
The metal-wielding mage's eyes flickered strangely.
"Gathering?" Duke's eyelid twitched. "You mean the Illuminators' one in the cathedral?"
"We're not those cowards." The shield mage spoke, his eyes burning with fanatic light, breath quickening. "We are the forerunners who will bring change to Demacia! We will overthrow those rotten nobles and erase the Mageseekers' tyranny once and for all!"
"When that day comes, those of us blessed with magic will stand openly, without fear!"
"…So that's it." Duke frowned. He had run into an underground mage faction, plotting to topple the Council and the King.
But what they didn't know was that soon, Jarvan III would abolish the ban on magic entirely.
They were playing at rebellion, blind to the tide of history. Pitiful.
Demacia was rigid and traditional, yes, but its people were brilliant, masters of anti-magic stone, mage-hunting arms, and suppression tactics. And they prized courage and honor, boasting warriors like Garen, Fiora, Prince Jarvan, and even the current Zhao Xin.
Their weakness lay only in high-tier might.
Aside from Galio, who guzzled mana like water, they had no true apex force.
Still, with Kayle and Morgana standing watch, the gap was filled.
In some ways, they surpassed Piltover.
After all, Piltover's only real powerhouse was Camille. The rest? Mediocre at best.
Ezreal wielded a priceless magical gauntlet, yet in the lore nearly lost to a mere mortal. Jayce forged Mercury Hammer to challenge Viktor, only to be beaten senseless by his machine army. The others hardly deserved mention.
And Janna? She was Zaun's guardian spirit since ancient times, nothing to do with Piltover at all.
Thoughts flickered through Duke's mind as he eyed the five. Their identities were clear now, underground mages bound for their gathering, panicked when they thought their cover blown, and rashly struck at him.
Only to be effortlessly crushed.
"One last question," Duke said, eyes on the woman with the gray miasma. "What's your magical gift?"
She hesitated, but with their lives in his hands, she finally confessed: "Alchemy. I can quickly grasp the essence of alchemical potions and reproduce them."
"So once you analyze a potion, you can mass-replicate it with magic?"
Duke arched his brow. What a treasure!
Bring her to Piltover and she'd be a walking alchemy engine.
"Yes, but my magic is weak. I can't copy many at once," she admitted.
Duke stroked his chin. "Interested in leaving Demacia? Your talents would shine elsewhere, you'd gain everything denied to you here."
She faltered, then shook her head firmly. "I'm Demacian. I'll stay."
"What a pity."
Duke planted a trace of his magic in their bodies, binding them with a cruel biological clock: every hour, they'd fart for ten minutes. Every half hour, hiccup for twenty. Every three hours, suffer an hour of diarrhea.
The curse would last three days.
Enough punishment without bloodshed. He wasn't a butcher, lessons would suffice.
"Alright, you're free. Take this as experience and learn from it," he said.
"You won't kill us?"
"I'm no murderer." Duke waved them off. "Now scram."
They glanced at one another, then hurried off. Once a few meters away and realizing he wasn't pursuing, they vanished into the woods, never knowing the curse already gnawed at them.
When they were gone, Duke turned back to Morgana's statue. He studied it, then reshaped it carefully, restoring it to the likeness in his memory.
Just as he turned to leave, black feathers drifted from the air, each one carrying an unsettling aura.
A figure materialized before him, twin eyes strange and piercing.
"Greetings, Outsider."
Duke arched a brow, glanced at the freshly restored statue, and his lips twitched.
Really? All I did was fix your statue, and you show up in person?
You're not usually this petty.
End of chapter....
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