The owner walked over with a smile and invited them. "Prince, and the two ladies—would you like to play a few rounds?"
What he was thinking was simple: he'd just opened today. If he could get the prince to play a round or two, wouldn't that draw in even more people?
Luke didn't refuse. He smiled. "Sure."
The grand prize here was only worth fifty gold. For ordinary people, that might be a windfall dropped from the sky, but for Luke and them, it wasn't that big a deal.
Still, since they were already here, leaving without trying it would feel like a waste.
"Who's going first?" Luke glanced left and right, asking the two girls.
Lux looked eager, but after losing face earlier, she didn't want to be the first one up. She looked at Fiora instead.
Catching Lux's gaze, Fiora gave a small nod. "I'll go first."
She was genuinely interested.
The three of them stepped into the inner area. Fiora's entrance immediately drew a lot of attention.
People unconsciously quieted down, anticipating how this cold, stunning beauty would perform.
The owner, meanwhile, stood off to the side, completely unhurried.
Following the standard posture, Fiora spun fifteen times in place. When she stopped, even she felt the world tilt and spin.
She raised the bow, aimed briefly, and released purely on instinct.
The arrow whistled out—and its direction didn't drift at all.
The owner's heart jumped.
The next second, the arrow struck the target at twenty meters. The crowd erupted in surprised cheers and applause.
Among all the challengers so far, Fiora was the only one who'd hit a target that far out.
"Congratulations, miss. You've won a porcelain doll worth five gold," the owner said, finally relaxing. He produced a box with a porcelain doll inside.
He claimed it was worth five gold—what it actually cost was anyone's guess.
Fiora hadn't come for prizes anyway. She wasn't very satisfied with that shot.
But she didn't try again.
She understood herself clearly. She'd trained with the sword endlessly, but with the bow she'd only learned the basics.
With her ability, just hitting was already good. Beyond that, no matter how many tries she took, it would come down to luck—there wasn't going to be some sudden breakthrough.
"My turn!" Lux stepped forward, looking very confident.
She took two steps, accepted the bow Fiora handed her, then took an arrow from the owner.
After examining it, she asked a strange question. "Can we swap this arrow for a real one?"
The arrows they were using had rounded tips with a sticky pad—no lethality, just enough to cling to the target.
The owner shook his head. "If someone gets hurt, that's trouble. This is for entertainment."
"Fine." It wasn't clear if she was disappointed or not.
Lux started spinning in place. After fifteen turns, she looked dizzy, wobbling as she aimed in a random direction.
Then, in the next second, she suddenly turned—and released straight at Luke.
Luke: "?"
Seeing the arrow flying at his face, he immediately dodged aside.
When he looked back at Lux…
That brat stuck out her tongue sheepishly and acted cute. "Hehe. I missed."
That sentence had layers.
Did she mean she missed Luke… or she missed the target?
The blatant act of retaliation made Luke raise an eyebrow—especially since she'd just asked to swap for real arrows.
She was obviously trying to mess with him.
"So you want to play, huh?" Luke sneered.
Lux dropped the act. Her lips curled up, and she gave Luke a contemptuous look. "That arrow just now—your luck saved you."
Mask off.
My archery is strong, Luxanna Crownguard style.
She'd always been confident about one thing: her archery could consistently beat Garen's.
With an opportunity this perfect, if she didn't reclaim her pride from earlier, could she even call herself Lux?
Today, she was going to make Luke experience what it meant to be utterly crushed!
As for Luke, he already had a bow in hand. He looked at Miss Crownguard, who hadn't even started yet and was already smug, and he smiled faintly.
A battle began.
The spectators, seeing that the two of them weren't shooting targets anymore but were shooting at each other, watched with relish.
One was the prince, the other was Miss Crownguard. Seeing them draw bows and trade shots like this was rare.
Fiora stepped back helplessly, though there was amusement in her eyes.
The owner's grin stretched wider than before.
Every arrow fired, he counted in his head.
Three silver… six silver… nine silver… in no time at all, one gold coin in the bag.
This felt amazing.
It really was the noble young masters and ladies who knew how to spend.
He'd only just opened today, and he already had VIP customers delivering money straight to him.
But the duel didn't last long—because Miss Crownguard surrendered very quickly.
"I give up!"
Lux had two arrows stuck on her head like horns. She looked ridiculous.
Now she stared at Luke with teary, aggrieved eyes and chose to surrender.
Luke, on the other hand, was calm and unbothered, as if nothing had happened.
At that moment, Lux was utterly baffled. She couldn't understand why.
Her archery was supposed to beat Garen's!
So why, against Luke, she couldn't find even a shred of superiority—why she was being treated like a practice dummy?
Unacceptable!
How is this guy's archery this strong too?!
At this rate, when am I ever going to get my revenge?!
Seeing Lux yield, Luke lowered his bow and returned her contemptuous smile right back. "That's it?"
Lux, who deeply understood that winners write history and losers swallow it, lowered her head silently—only her fist clenched again.
Demacia Year 679: Luke humiliates me again. Fortune turns—don't bully a poor girl. I, Lux, am writing this one down!
Lately, Miss Crownguard's little grudge notebook was nearly full of Luke's name.
"The prince's archery is impressive," the owner praised from the side, then asked, "Want to keep playing?"
"Of course." Luke had just gotten interested, so naturally he wanted to try the actual game.
Perfect timing—he still hadn't tested the Godspeed Tracking Arrow he'd just learned.
Following the standard, he quickly spun fifteen times. The dizziness hit right away.
But Luke didn't care. The moment he stopped, he raised the bow and loosed an arrow.
Godspeed Tracking Arrow—once it leaves the bow, it hits.
The next second, the crowd exploded into shocked cries.
"It hit!"
"Grand prize!"
"The prince is insane—grand prize in one shot!"
The owner's grin froze in place.
His mind screamed a single, horrified curse.
Hit?
It hit?!
He stared hard.
That arrow was stuck firmly in the moving target.
At forty meters.
It really hit.
The owner's heart went cold.
First day open, and he could basically declare bankruptcy on the spot.
The grand prize was a necklace worth a real fifty gold.
In that moment, he wanted to slap himself twice. If he'd known, he never would've run his mouth and asked if they wanted to keep playing.
He hadn't believed anyone could, while that dizzy, precisely nail a moving target.
Lux blinked and suddenly felt… not quite as angry.
Because like this, it did look like this guy's archery was genuinely terrifying.
Even she wasn't confident she could hit a moving target right after spinning.
The rules weren't just "spin." You had to spin and shoot immediately, and the target was forty meters away and moving. Add it all up, and the difficulty was absurd.
Fiora lifted her gaze as well, her beautiful eyes fixed on Luke's back.
More and more curious.
How many skills was this man still hiding?
"Your Highness… this is your prize."
The owner forced a smile and handed over the grand prize in an exquisite wooden box.
His heart felt like it was bleeding.
This kind of business wasn't meant for humans.
Luke accepted the prize, a satisfied smile tugging at his mouth.
Some people liked to claim that a mature person was supposed to be beyond "low pleasures," that showing off had long lost its charm.
That was pure nonsense.
Emotions and desires are part of being human. They follow you for your entire life.
Naturally, you enjoy the feedback certain things give you.
Like showing off.
Otherwise, what was he collecting all these skills for?
To have babies?
If nothing else, the "high-tier" prefix on Godspeed Tracking Arrow really lived up to it. Even at only LV3, it had pushed his archery to this level.
If he raised it another couple levels… wouldn't he be able to hit every shot?
After taking the grand prize, the three of them didn't linger and continued toward the next street.
Along the way, Luke had nothing to do, so he opened the wooden box.
The owner hadn't lied. Inside was a delicate necklace, and it looked legitimately high quality.
Fifty gold—an outright luxury for many households.
But it obviously didn't suit Luke to wear it.
His first thought was to give it away.
Two girls were right beside him, but it felt awkward no matter who he gave it to. After thinking a moment, he put it away for now, not yet deciding.
Just then, there was the sound of two people colliding up ahead—thunk-thunk-thunk—followed by many things spilling across the ground.
Luke glanced down and saw an apple roll to his feet.
He bent down and picked it up, intending to return it to its owner.
"Sorry, sorry."
The voice belonged to an elderly man. Squatting on the ground, he gathered apples and apologized repeatedly.
The person he'd bumped into didn't make a fuss, only glanced at him and left.
Lux and Fiora helped pick up the apples one by one.
Luke walked over and returned the one in his hand.
"Prince, thank you. You're truly a good person," the old man said, forcing a smile as he took the apple. His aged face was wrinkled and dotted with liver spots, and his gaze lingered on Luke's face for several seconds.
For some reason, Luke found that stare a little unsettling.
"Thanks." After collecting all the apples, the old man thanked them again, then turned and walked away slowly, step by step, clutching his bag of apples.
Luke stayed where he was, watching that retreating back with a slight frown.
Lux leaned in, her head blocking his view. She asked oddly, "What's wrong with you?"
"Something about that old man felt… strange," Luke said plainly, not bothering to hide the thought.
"You're being paranoid." Lux turned back and looked at the old man's figure, now farther away. "He's just a normal old man. You can see them anywhere in Demacia. Aren't you overthinking it?"
Fiora studied him for a few seconds too and didn't notice anything unusual.
Luke shook his head. "Probably. It's nothing—let's go."
It was just a vague feeling. He couldn't even say what was strange about him.
Because no matter how he looked at it, the man really did seem like an ordinary elder.
So Luke stopped thinking about it.
Two more streets later…
Luke and the two girls stood at the roadside amid a crowd of murmuring pedestrians.
In their view, two powerful horses approached slowly. On each sat a tall knight in white armor, helmeted with a visor that hid the entire face, a shield and weapon strapped across the back.
They looked solemn and severe.
Behind them was a cart being towed, carrying a simple iron cage. Inside knelt a man with unbound hair.
He was shackled: heavy white cuffs bound his hands to either side, thick and secure.
Behind the cart were two more horses.
But the riders' outfits were different.
They wore all-black uniforms of the same material, copper masks hiding their faces. A distinct, chilling aura clung to them—just looking at them made people instinctively keep their distance.
In their hands were chains extending from the cage.
"Mageseekers…"
Seeing those two, Lux shrank back, reflexively ducking behind Luke.
Luke caught her murmur, and more importantly, he sensed the fear rising in Miss Crownguard. He shifted left, taking a better view—while also completely blocking Lux behind him.
If those were Mageseekers, then the prisoner in that cart…
"Prince, greetings."
The two white-armored knights at the front noticed Luke. They dismounted respectfully and bowed.
"At ease," Luke said, waving it off. "The one in the cart is…?"
"A mage," one knight answered. Beneath the helmet, he seemed to be smiling as he spoke. "No need to worry. He's bound with petricite chains—he poses no threat."
"I see." Luke hadn't been worried anyway. He asked, "Where did you catch him?"
"Gehr Town."
"And how did you find him?"
"The Mageseekers did. His magic went out of control and set his own house on fire."
"And then you arrested him?"
"What else?" The knight sounded like he hadn't heard such an innocent question in a long time. He chuckled. "He's a mage. Isn't that enough?"
"Enough," Luke said, a single word, and looked into the cage.
At that moment, the mage inside happened to raise his head. Tangled hair hung messily over a face full of weariness and exhaustion. His eyes were unfocused, as if he'd already suffered plenty of abuse—his expression numb to the bone.
He looked weak. His gaze collided with Luke's.
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