That afternoon.
In the arena.
Boom!
A deafening explosion split the skies as the dueling stage shook violently, the tiled floor shattered and flung into the air from the impact.
Duke exhaled slowly, calming his pounding heartbeat and breath. He lowered his guard, relaxed his body, and looked toward the arena staff, who were now entering in orderly fashion to rescue the injured and put out fires. He gave the audience a casual wave before leaving the stage.
He had advanced into the top sixteen.
A few more matches, and his time in the Glorious Tournament would come to an end, after which his real plans could finally begin.
His stay in Demacia was already entering its countdown.
"Duke!"
"Duke!!"
"Duke!!!"
The thunderous cheers rang across the arena as Duke slowly walked offstage, savoring this moment that belonged to him alone.
No wonder the Demacians placed such importance on martial valor and personal honor. In an atmosphere like this, even the most indifferent soul would be swept away by the fervor.
He found himself wondering what Noxus's Reckoning Pits or Ionia's underground wrestling halls might look like.
Someday, he had to see them for himself.
Leaving through the competitors' passage, Duke spotted Vayne and Lux waiting at the gate.
Both were seated in the wolf-drawn carriage, while Ang's two heads were reacting differently to the gathering crowd.
The brown eye glared menacingly at everyone nearby, while the blue eye studied them thoughtfully, calm and calculating.
Just as Duke approached, ready to climb aboard, a familiar figure caught his eye. With a resigned sigh, he muttered, "Looks like I won't be making it back for dinner with you two tonight."
"Why not, Big Brother Duke?" Lux asked.
He shrugged, tilting his chin toward the man in a blue-and-white martial uniform standing not far away.
"Grand Steward Xin has come. I'd wager he's here to summon me to the palace for an audience with your king."
"So that's it…" Lux's eyes dimmed with disappointment, though she forced herself to smile as if unconcerned. "Then go ahead, Big Brother Duke. Vayne and I will head back first."
Duke ruffled her hair. Such a sensible little girl.
"Don't stay out too late tonight," Vayne reminded him coolly as she tugged on the reins. Ang leapt into motion, carrying the two away.
Seeing Vayne's reaction, Duke could already guess—tonight he'd be paying a steep price.
He chuckled wryly as he watched them leave.
Xin Zhao approached, rubbing his nose with embarrassment. "Did I come at a bad time?"
"I was supposed to have a wonderful night tonight," Duke sighed, rolling his eyes. "A very wonderful night."
Cosplay, costume games—plans gone, along with the one hundred and twenty outfits he'd so carefully prepared in his inventory.
"My apologies," Xin said sincerely. "It was sudden. I could only find you here."
"Forget it, forget it," Duke waved it off with feigned generosity. "Let's just go."
"Please, this way."
Duke climbed into the carriage alongside him, and they headed straight for Dawn Castle.
"What's this about this time?" Duke pulled out a flask, uncapped it, and took a long swig, feeling the liquor burn down his throat like a line of fire before settling in his stomach. He exhaled with satisfaction.
"The Council moved even faster than we expected," Xin explained gravely. As the royal chamberlain, intelligence came easily to him.
The problem was, Xin Zhao was too honest.
If he didn't want to speak, any secret reaching his lips would vanish like a stone into the ocean.
"They've seized control of most voices in the city, tilted the fishing fleets to their side, and withheld vital resources bound for the capital," Xin continued. "The Piltover envoys have been left hanging. Their invitation has been stalled for ages."
"The Council's being that brazen?"
Duke exhaled another puff of liquor-scented air and calmly trimmed a cigar.
"And King Jarvan III?"
"His Majesty says the framework is already set. We must move faster."
"Meaning?" Duke lit the cigar, watching Xin.
"Invite the Masked One to reside in Dawn Castle, ready to meet the coming crisis," Xin said in a low voice.
Duke shrugged, smoke curling from his lips. "Guess I won't be home early tonight."
"Forgive me again," Xin bowed his head.
"It's fine," Duke said with a half-smile. "Just have His Majesty reward me with something later."
Xin lowered his head further, deep in thought. "Demacia must not let our foreign friends feel unvalued. I will report your words to His Majesty."
"Thanks, but it was only a joke," Duke waved carelessly. But Xin Zhao had already taken the promise to heart.
Soon after, the carriage reached Dawn Castle. Xin led Duke into a side hall where King Jarvan III paced with furrowed brows, Barrett watching silently by his side.
"Your Majesty, Master Duke has arrived."
Jarvan III stopped pacing, his face lighting with relief.
"Duke, you came just in time!" He grasped Duke's arm and drew him toward a seat.
"I already heard from Xin," Duke said quickly. "What's your plan?"
"Since you know, I'll be blunt," Jarvan said. "I want to meet the Masked One tonight and invite her to reside in Dawn Castle. But I'm watched from all sides. I can't slip away. Sending emissaries would be too discourteous."
Duke could only sigh. Morgana wouldn't care about such etiquette—but Demacia's king thought otherwise.
"What do you suggest?"
Scratching his head, Duke pulled from his pack something he hadn't used in a while: a trio of holo-projection drones.
"Use these."
He winked at Jarvan. The king eyed the floating spheres suspiciously.
This could really outwit his enemies' eyes?
The drones scanned Jarvan's form, replicating him in perfect detail. Moments later, a full-scale projection of the king shimmered beside them.
"This…"
"Alright, stop gawking. Let's move."
A snap of Duke's fingers cloaked them in the drones' illusions, vanishing their presence.
Awestruck, Jarvan and Barrett barely had time to marvel before Duke whisked them outside the castle, where he unfolded a passenger craft.
The craft soared eastward, straight toward the forest where Duke had once met Morgana.
Hovering above the trees, Duke retrieved her veil, channeling magic into it. The veil darkened to the color of midnight, violet flames flaring along its edges, pointing the way.
"Convenient enough," Duke smirked, steering toward the path revealed.
They landed before a plain cave mouth.
This was where the fabled Winged Guardian lived?
The veil slipped from his hand and floated inside. With no choice, they followed.
The cave was lit with candles, their flames dancing across dripping stone. Strange potions lined the walls. The air carried moss and grave-dirt, black feathers scattered across the ground.
The veil came to rest in the hand of a woman, back turned. She wore a long black gown, black wings folded at her back.
"You've come, outlander."
Morgana turned, her regal features softened by a faint smile.
"You look like you need help."
"Not me, but him," Duke said, stepping aside for Jarvan III.
Nervously, the king approached and bowed deeply. "I pay you respect, great Masked One."
"And what do you ask of me, mortal king?" Morgana's eyes bore into him.
Jarvan swallowed hard. "My kingdom is undergoing a great upheaval. I beg your aid. I ask you to reside in Dawn Castle, to help me through this change."
"Only to reside in your castle?" Morgana asked again.
Jarvan hesitated, then added, "I also humbly invite you to attend the day of the reform itself, to witness it with me."
Even as king, before such a being, his heart trembled. To the timeless, mortal lives passed like dust.
Morgana studied him silently, then finally smiled. "I see humility, compassion, and honor in you. I will help you."
"Thank you, great Masked One!"
End of chapter....
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