"Little girl, do you want to become stronger?"
Jax's gaze fell on Fiora. In his eyes, she was like an uncut gem—raw, but full of brilliance waiting to be revealed. Even he felt a flicker of interest in her.
But more than that, he wanted to use her as a measure—to test Duke.
To see if Duke truly lived up to his expectations.
Fiora didn't answer him. Instead, her eyes shifted toward Duke. Compared to the strange, almost monstrous Jax, she still trusted Duke a little more.
Even though every encounter with him ended in humiliation.
"Don't look at me." Duke shrugged, then added, "But if I were you, I'd agree. Jax is the last surviving Kohari in all of Runeterra."
"A three-thousand-year-old monster, and a true master of the martial path!"
"Calling me an old monster hurts, you know," Jax muttered, peeling another eggshell without missing a beat.
After parting ways with Duke that day, he had originally intended to head north for the Freljord. But Duke's words had lingered, circling in his mind, refusing to leave.
The more he thought about it, the less at ease he felt. So he had returned to the capital, following Duke's trail. By sheer chance, he had stumbled upon this scene.
Fiora's potential caught his eye. He couldn't help but feel a pang of appreciation. So he decided to point her in the right direction—and in doing so, get a closer look at Duke himself.
"Kohari?"
Fiora frowned slightly. She didn't know much about Icathia's history. But hearing Duke say Jax had lived for three millennia… that much was enough to shock her.
"You mean this creature who once seized my family's bridge has lived three thousand years?"
Her eyes widened, her face pale with disbelief as she looked at Jax.
"Yes," Duke nodded, and explained, "You might not know the Kohari, but you've heard of Shurima's legendary Ascended warriors, haven't you?"
"Of course. They were the mightiest warriors of the ancient Shuriman Empire!" Fiora said firmly.
Duke pointed at Jax. "And this man once slew an Ascended warrior."
"That's the weight the name Kohari carries."
This time, when Fiora looked at Jax, her expression had changed completely.
Duke stepped closer and draped an arm over her shoulder. "If I were you, I'd run over there right now and call him Master. A living grandmaster, three thousand years old—any casual guidance from him could benefit you for life."
"Then maybe you'd stop pestering me."
He muttered the last part under his breath. Fiora's stubbornness was exhausting. The Fiora before him hadn't experienced the tragedies of her story; her father still lived, her family's weight was not on her shoulders.
Which meant her growth would take far longer.
Fiora glanced at the arm around her shoulder, then lifted her rapier and aimed it at Duke's throat, forcing him back.
"Do we know each other that well?"
"Well, it was just friendly advice. And honestly," Duke raised both hands in mock surrender, retreating a few steps as his tongue stayed sharp, "you don't even strike me as a woman. Not a trace of femininity."
"You bastard!"
Her teeth clenched, Fiora swung down hard. But Duke's figure blurred, flickering ten meters away in an instant.
"Alright, you two keep chatting. I'm heading home."
His form shimmered, vanishing step by step into the distance as the Force and his fist-cannon footwork carried him away at impossible speed.
Jax watched him leave, grinding his teeth. "That brat really does get under your skin sometimes."
Turning back to Fiora, he asked evenly, "So, what's your choice?"
"I don't believe in free lunches. What price do I have to pay?"
Her voice was steady now, her composure fully restored once Duke was gone.
"Price?" Jax raised an eyebrow, glancing at the peeled egg in his hand.
"Do you have any boiled eggs at home?"
"One cart full. Is that enough?"
"That'll do."
Before dawn, Castle Dawn.
"Urgent report!"
A dragon-rider swept across the night sky, his mount's wings stirring the air as his cry echoed over the castle. The guards snapped to attention immediately.
Xin Zhao was summoned at once. Having risen early, he arrived swiftly at the landing grounds reserved for dragon-riders.
Seeing the exhausted mount, he issued quick commands: "Bring the beastmasters at once, prepare feed for the dragon, and provide quarters for the knight. See that they're properly cared for!"
"Yes, Grand Marshal!"
As his orders were carried out, the dragon-rider strode forward, unfastened a message tube from his side, and handed it to Xin Zhao.
"Urgent news from the southern town of Pingze!"
"The Argo locust swarm has crossed Pingze. The town and surrounding lands have fallen. Local forces are insufficient. Requesting immediate reinforcements from the capital!"
"You've done well."
Taking the message, Xin Zhao returned the salute of Demacia. The knight struck his chest with a fist. "For Demacia!"
Without pause, Xin Zhao rushed toward the palace, delivering the urgent report to King Jarvan III. Prince Jarvan IV was already present.
"Your Majesty, an emergency dispatch!"
He offered the sealed tube. Jarvan III's face darkened as he read the letter.
"What's happened?" the prince asked, unable to wait.
"The Argo locust swarm has crossed the border," the king said grimly. "Pingze has fallen. The local garrison fought to the last man. There is no force left to oppose them."
The name alone was enough to make him shiver. The Argo locusts were no ordinary pests but a breed of magical beast. Individually, they were no larger than a hound and easily dispatched by even raw recruits.
But when they gathered in numbers, a queen would be born. Under her command, the swarm gained a terrible, unified will. Their destructiveness multiplied many times over.
Worse still, once they swarmed, their breeding accelerated beyond reason. With food aplenty, they bred endlessly. Eggs hatched within an hour, larvae grew in three, and by five hours they were fully grown adults.
And Pingze—the largest town of the southern borderlands—was already lost.
The south was fertile, Demacia's breadbasket. If left unchecked, the swarm would strip the land bare, turning lush plains into barren wastelands of dust and ash.
A famine like no other would follow. Demacia would be at its weakest. If enemies struck from without—or civil strife broke within—the kingdom could fall.
"Father, this cannot wait!" Jarvan IV's voice rang with conviction. "I'll take the Dauntless Vanguard south at once. Mounted, with double horse relay, we can reach Pingze in a week."
Jarvan III paced heavily. He could not leave the capital—not now, with reform looming. Only his son could go.
But a week? By then, the south would already be gone. The swarm would have grown beyond imagining.
"No… that won't do," he muttered, anxiety pressing in.
"Then what should we do?!"
Xin Zhao, who had been silent, spoke carefully: "Your Majesty, do you recall the flying craft Master Duke used when we went to greet Lady Morgana?"
Jarvan III froze. Of course! Duke's flying machines had carried them in hours over distances that normally took days.
"Yes… yes, we must seek Duke's aid again. With his help, perhaps this can be contained!"
He slammed the decision down, though a trace of guilt flickered in his face. They had already asked much of Duke these past days.
But now, Demacia itself was at stake.
"Jarvan IV!"
"Father!"
"Find Duke at once. Beg his aid."
"Yes!"
The South, Pingze.
Once the pride of the borderlands, Pingze now lay in ruins. Dog-sized Argo locusts ravaged every street. Bloodstains marked the ground, but not a single corpse remained.
Among the endless flutter of wings, a shadowed figure walked casually through the devastation.
Leblanc.
She cut through the swarm with ease, until at last she reached the queen. The creature was the size of a calf, pulsing with unnatural strength.
A thin smile touched her lips.
"Feast well. Soon, the task of holding back the Dauntless Vanguard will fall to you."
She turned away, her form dissolving into the shadows. The pieces of her scheme were in place.
All that remained was for the play to begin.
End of chapter....
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