Bang!
The moment the door closed, Duke also left the reception room, leaving Vayne alone with a tableful of equipment. Yet she didn't so much as glance at the gear spread before her. Her eyes stayed fixed instead on her battered exosuit.
"It really can't be repaired…"
She let out a quiet sigh, then carefully returned the damaged armor to its case, setting it gently to the side. Picking up the night-vision device Duke had left on the table, she studied its futuristic design, its sci-fi sheen, before falling into silence.
…
Leaving the reception hall, Duke turned down a corridor. Outside, twilight was gathering, and he found himself still replaying the meeting with Vayne in his mind.
It was her, Vayne, who had ambushed the half-dragon girl. There could be no doubt. She loathed shapeshifters with a passion. The moment she laid eyes on a creature like Shyvana, such a reaction was inevitable.
Of course she would "greet" her with a crossbow bolt first.
But Vayne's attitude toward her exosuit… that left Duke puzzled.
In his impression, the Night Hunter was not the sort to cling to material things.
"Forget it. It doesn't matter. Vayne's just here to do a job. I should focus on my own business."
"I'll watch how she performs. If things go well, maybe I'll see if she's willing to work for me."
Duke shook his head, brushing away those thoughts. Vayne had been invited here to hunt down the demon haunting Mithril City. With her skill, and the equipment he'd just gifted her, there should be no problem.
What mattered now was preparing for the coming disciple-ceremony.
He would need to get closer to the dragon girl, coax more of her blood for his research.
As for the grudge between Vayne and Shyvana, that was theirs to settle.
Sometimes, in the quarrels between women, it was wiser for a man not to interfere.
Turning away from the corner, Duke returned to his own chambers. As he approached, he spotted Augsa waiting at his door, an invitation card in hand.
"Ah, Duke, you've come back just in time."
"What is it, Aunt Augsa?"
"The Durand family has extended an invitation. They wish to discuss certain matters of technology with you."
"Technology?" Duke frowned. "Don't tell me they've set their sights on the manufacture of Hex gemstones. The craft may still be crude, but it's already incredibly valuable…"
And Duke had already improved the process, making the gemstones more stable, their energy more refined.
"That, I don't know," Augsa said with a shake of her head. "But you know the Durands, they're stonemasons, stubborn as rock itself. Once they set their minds on something, not even ten oxen could drag them back."
She handed him the card. "And the one inviting you is the current head of the house, Luel Durand. You've met the old master before."
"Yes," Duke recalled with a chuckle. "When Galio awakened, he was so excited he nearly fainted on the spot."
He tore the envelope open, scanning the contents. Augsa's lips curved into a smile as she added, "By the way, Duke, I truly must thank you for your help earlier. Without you, I would've had to trouble someone else, and it might have stirred up all kinds of gossip."
"It was nothing, Aunt Augsa. Hardly more than lifting a finger."
After finishing the letter, Duke folded it away again. The Durands' invitation intrigued him, and he had no intention of refusing.
"So, about their invitation?"
"I'll go. And conveniently, old man Luel still owes me a promise."
"Then I'll arrange a carriage for you."
"No need. I'll make my own way."
Declining her offer, Duke chatted with Augsa a little longer before returning to his room, packing up what he needed, and leaving the Crownguard Manor for the Durand estate.
Riding his proud mount, Duke needed less than ten minutes to reach the gates of the Durand family.
As master stonemasons, the Durands had built their estate at the foot of the Silver-shard Mountains, where Galio could be seen towering in the distance upon the Path of Monuments, and where quarries lay conveniently close at hand.
Unlike the elegant snow-rock arch at the gates of Crownguard Manor, the Durands' entrance was flanked by stone sculptures on both sides. At first glance, it felt less like a noble estate and more like a museum of stone carvings.
And not a single guard at the gate.
Dismounting, Duke showed the invitation card and walked inside. The sound of chisels striking stone echoed ceaselessly through the grounds.
Following a long stone-paved path, he entered the front hall. There, he was greeted by a smaller, but still imposing, statue of Galio.
The golden-winged colossus stood with arms crossed before him, fists clenched, frozen in a stance ready to deliver a mighty blow.
"Hmm…"
Duke arched a brow. "I wonder what expression Galio would make if he saw this version of himself."
Admiring the statue for a moment, he moved deeper into the reception hall, only to find yet another statue of Galio.
"This family really is obsessed with him…"
He smacked his lips at the sight, but before he could continue his thought, a voice spoke from a corner:
"My grandfather has been obsessed with Galio ever since he witnessed his awakening in his youth."
Following the voice, Duke saw a young girl with long brown hair seated on a bench. Noticing his gaze, she hurried to her feet and introduced herself:
"Hello, Master Duke. I'm Shirley Durand. My grandfather, Luel, asked me to wait here for your arrival."
"You don't even have a servant to greet guests?"
"They're all hauling stone." Shirley scratched her temple, embarrassed. "In our family, most of the servants spend their days moving rocks. Everyone's a little… obsessed."
"As expected of stonemasons," Duke said with a laugh.
Shirley stepped forward. "Please, follow me. My grandfather is waiting in his workshop."
"Lead the way, then."
"It's no trouble."
Before long, Shirley brought him to an iron door. Rhythmic hammering rang from within, like music played on stone.
"My grandfather is inside. I'll prepare tea. Master Duke, please, go in."
She nodded politely and departed.
Duke raised his brows. "Efficient people, these stonemasons."
Pushing open the door, he found Luel, his muscles taut beneath his shirt, working a chisel and hammer against a block of white stone. He struck with his left hand, apparently a southpaw.
Sensing Duke enter, Luel said without looking up, "Give me a moment. I'm almost done."
"No rush, old master. Take your time."
Duke didn't disturb him. He knew artisans disliked being interrupted mid-flow. With someone more temperamental, barging in like this could have earned him a hammer to the head.
He also refrained from wandering around. In another craftsman's workshop, touching things uninvited was taboo.
So he simply stood at the door, observing the sculpture taking shape, a Galio frozen in mid-dive, just like the moment of his awakening yesterday.
Half an hour later, the steady clanging ceased. Luel wiped sweat from his brow with a towel, then carefully set aside hammer and chisel.
Turning, he produced a book and a rolled sheet of aged parchment, motioning Duke over.
"Master Luel, what is it you've called me here for?"
"First, take a look at this."
He handed the parchment over. Duke unrolled it, his eyes widening. A heartbeat later, he snapped it closed and thrust it back.
"This is far too precious!"
"Keep it, boy."
But Luel pushed it back toward him and gestured for him to sit. "I'm not giving it for free. I want to make a trade."
He placed the book on the table with a solid thump. "This is my ancestor's private journal, recording all his insights on null-magic stone. It also contains the notes and annotations our family has added over the centuries."
"As for the parchment, you saw it yourself."
Luel nodded slowly. "Yes. Galio's original design blueprint."
"This… this is too valuable. It's a family heirloom. You can't just hand it over."
"I told you, it's a trade!" Luel barked, eyes flashing. "Why so hesitant? Where's that boldness you had when you woke Galio?"
"This is different." Duke smiled bitterly. Awakening Galio had been a calculated gamble to gain leverage for his journey in Demacia. But this, accepting a family's ancestral secrets? Any craftsman would hesitate. If such knowledge ever leaked, the blame would fall squarely on him.
"There's nothing different about it. The journal and the blueprint, in exchange for one thing: a place as your apprentice."
Duke blinked. "An apprentice?"
"Don't think I didn't notice. The device you used to awaken Galio, it ran on a gemstone brimming with arcane power. I don't want its schematics; that would only bring me trouble. All I ask is for you to take my granddaughter as an apprentice. Let her study under you, even if she learns only a fraction."
"You mean… Hextech?"
Duke's gaze dropped to the journal and blueprint. The Durands' ancestral knowledge of null-magic stone, paired with Galio's design…
With these, his work would leap forward. He could not only refine Hex gemstones but perhaps even reproduce, and surpass, the legendary ones of the original timeline.
"That's what you call it?" Luel stroked his beard and nodded. "Yes. I want you to teach my granddaughter Hextech."
"And for that, I offer you the journal and the blueprint."
"…It's not enough."
Duke shook his head slowly, eyes locking onto Luel's. "The price isn't enough."
End of chapter....
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