Knock, knock, knock...
The sound of knocking rang out abruptly, echoing through the courtyard. Inside the bedroom, Duke grumbled in annoyance.
"Who's pounding at the door so early in the morning?"
"I don't know."
Vayne shrank deeper into the covers, eyes closed, looking as if she had no intention of getting involved. Seeing her like that, Duke sighed helplessly.
"Fine, I'll go take a look."
Climbing out of bed, Duke hastily pulled on a couple of clothes and headed downstairs to the entryway.
The moment he opened the door and saw the visitors, he clicked his tongue. Day after day, could Jarvan III not give him any peace?
But this time, besides the royal chamberlain Xin Zhao, there was another unexpected guest
The Prince of Demacia, Jarvan IV!
And behind them stood a cloaked figure in black. Duke sniffed lightly; the faint smell of sulfur reached his nose.
No doubt about it—Shyvana, the half-dragon.
Still, the attire of both the prince and Xin Zhao seemed a little out of place.
Xin Zhao had abandoned his usual battle garb in favor of white armor that protected most of his vital points. Jarvan IV too was dressed in dark golden armor.
"You're dressed for war?" Duke asked flatly.
"My apologies, Master Duke."
Jarvan IV bowed slightly. Duke stepped aside to let them in.
"Come in and talk first."
Once the prince, Xin Zhao, and Shyvana were seated in the living room, Duke busied himself with preparing tea. He drew a tea set from his inventory, lit the stove, and set the kettle on to boil.
"What's happened this time?"
Jarvan pulled a crumpled urgent dispatch from his cloak and placed it before Duke.
"There has been an outbreak of Argo black locusts along the southern border. Pingze Town has already fallen under their assault. Considering their destructive power and terrifying rate of reproduction, we seek to borrow your flying machines to support the south."
Duke picked up the dispatch. The handwriting was messy, but still legible. After a moment, he set it down and looked at Jarvan.
"You want to borrow my flying machines?"
"Yes."
"And how many men do you intend to send against this swarm?" Duke asked, noting that the dispatch had been sent last night at nine. Nearly twelve hours had already passed, plenty of time for the swarm to multiply several times over.
"I plan to lead a thousand men to the south. Xin Zhao and Shyvana will accompany me."
"A thousand..." Duke tapped the table as steam began to whistle from the kettle. Before he could move, Xin Zhao deftly poured the water, ever efficient.
Duke calculated aloud, "One aircraft can carry twelve people, but with full armor, that drops to ten. For a thousand men, you'd need a hundred flying machines."
"That's right," Jarvan confirmed with a nod.
Duke sighed. "But I only have three."
Large transports weren't worth building—Duke usually only made smaller models. Most of his fleet had been left in Ixtal; only three remained in his possession.
"Three?"
Jarvan and Xin Zhao exchanged troubled looks. Shyvana finally spoke, her voice low. "Could you build more on the spot?"
"Not a chance. Your craftsmen can't match my level, your industry lags far behind Piltover, and you lack proper factories. Even if I started right now, materials aside, building a hundred aircraft would take me at least a full day."
"And by then, the locusts will have multiplied again."
Duke did have mechanical helpers, so the crafting itself wasn't an issue. But the transport of raw materials would take time, and by the time the machines were ready, southern Demacia would already be stripped bare.
The locusts' breeding speed defied imagination. The southern plains, richer than the north, with lush grasslands and crops, were nothing less than a paradise for them. And these weren't picky eaters—they devoured anything, beast or plant alike.
A thousand miles of barren land wasn't unthinkable.
Jarvan's expression darkened. Three flying machines could carry only thirty soldiers. Against tens of thousands of locusts, thirty men were meaningless.
"Do you have another solution?" the prince pressed, hope flickering in his eyes.
He thought of the stories Shyvana had told him of Duke, and of what Garen had shared about the man who once drove demons from Fosbarrow. His regard for Duke's ability only grew.
"You certainly think highly of me," Duke muttered, rolling his eyes. He clipped the end of a cigar, lit it, and inhaled deeply before exhaling a perfect smoke ring.
"There is one way."
"What way?" Jarvan leaned forward urgently.
"The Argo locusts aren't individually strong. Alone, they're easy prey. But in swarms, they follow the command of a single locust queen. Under her direction, they fight as one terrifying organism."
"But if you can find and kill the queen, the swarm collapses into chaos and poses little threat."
The simplest method—yet the hardest.
Jarvan glanced at Xin Zhao, who subtly gestured for him to stay calm and listen.
"My suggestion," Duke continued, "is to form a special strike team. Small, elite, fast. Their mission: cut into the swarm and slay the queen. Meanwhile, dispatch cavalry south. Once the queen falls, the rest of the swarm can be mopped up."
Silence stretched until Jarvan finally raised his head. "Duke, I must ask something of you."
"You want me to lead the strike?" Duke flicked his ash, unimpressed. "I would, but I'm signed up for the Grand Tournament."
"I can make arrangements for your matches. You could accompany us, help resolve this crisis, and return in time for the competition," Jarvan insisted earnestly. "Of course, you will be handsomely rewarded. Whatever you ask."
"Whatever I ask, hm? Aren't you afraid I'll demand too much?"
Jarvan's reply was steady. "Wealth can be regained. But if Demacia loses her people and her land, nothing can bring them back."
Duke studied him carefully, then nodded. "You see things clearly."
But still, what could he gain? Promises alone weren't enough.
"I want rune-steel and anti-magic stone, your entire stock," Duke declared.
"No problem," Jarvan replied without hesitation.
"Don't be hasty. I'm not done." Duke raised one finger. "I also want tax exemption for my family's trade."
"Tax exemption?" Jarvan frowned. Even Demacia taxed imports and trade. A kingdom needed wealth to stand strong.
"How long?"
"Ten years."
"Too long. Five."
"Eight."
"Five and a half. That is my bottom line."
Duke exhaled smoke slowly, meeting the prince's steady gaze. Not bad—he didn't lose his head even now.
"Very well. Five and a half years, tax-free."
That alone would bring Duke and the Feros family a fortune beyond measure. Truly, the Demacian nobility had money to burn.
"In that case," Duke said, extending his hand, "choose your men and set your plans. I'll be ready when you are."
"I'll arrange it immediately," Jarvan promised. "Please prepare and report to Dawn Castle."
"No problem."
Duke escorted them to the door. Shyvana followed silently, speaking little as always.
But just as they stepped outside, Duke spotted Jax approaching, Fiora Laurent at his side.
The duelist's eyes lit up as she saw Jarvan in his armor. She quickly stepped forward to bow. "Your Highness."
"Laurent," Jarvan greeted her politely. Fiora's name had spread through every noble circle in Demacia by now.
"And what brings you here today?" the prince asked curiously, his eyes flicking toward Jax behind her.
"I came seeking Duke's assistance," Fiora replied.
End of chapter....
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