"The price still isn't enough!"
"You brat, don't push your luck! A moment ago you said it was too valuable to accept, and now you're playing this game with me?"
Luel slammed the table, beard bristling, eyes bulging in fury. "Are you toying with me?"
"No, Elder, you misunderstand."
Duke shook his head, his gaze falling on the Durand family's notes and the Galio blueprint. They were undeniably precious. The notes had been compiled by their ancestor, with generations of annotations added over centuries. And with the blueprint, Duke could theoretically build another Galio, an anti-mage weapon without equal.
Yet… it still wasn't enough.
The technology of null-magic stone was enticing, but Duke was in no rush. Time was on his side. Eventually, he would unravel every secret himself. Longevity meant patience was a resource he had in abundance.
Hextech, however, was different.
Hextech wasn't merely a tool. It was the future, the axis upon which the world's transformation would turn.
Luel thought he was bargaining cleverly, offering a family's accumulated wisdom in exchange for a spot as Duke's apprentice. On the surface, it seemed Duke was the one gaining. But once he accepted a disciple, he would be obliged to teach without reservation, passing on everything the student could absorb: not just Hextech, but his perspective, his judgment, his vision… knowledge centuries ahead of its time.
That was why Duke said it wasn't enough.
"Elder, do you even understand what Hextech represents?"
He ignored Luel's bluster, instead setting a cigar case and flask on the table. Luel, without the slightest politeness, took a cigar, clamped it between his teeth, and lit it.
"Hah. Bilgewater box cigars, you know how to enjoy yourself, boy."
"I stocked up during an expedition there. If you like them, I can send some your way."
"No need. What I need from you is answers." Luel slammed the table again, eyes blazing. "My family's centuries of research, our ancestor's manuscripts, even the blueprint of the Colossus itself, and still you refuse to grant us one apprentice slot? Today you don't leave until you explain yourself clearly!"
"Elder Luel," Duke replied evenly, "your family's mastery of null-magic stone is unmatched, I admit that. But Hextech is not just about powering Galio. Hextech is the future. It can reach into every field, touch every aspect of life.
Take our latest project, the Hex Gate. With it, one could cross the Conqueror's Sea in moments, linking Demacia and Piltover directly. You know what that means."
He leaned forward slightly. "Applied to everyday life, Hextech could transform travel, shelter, food, clothing, everything. It represents the future of human civilization.
And you would trade me your past in exchange for that future? That is not an equal bargain."
Duke spread his hands, laying bare his reasoning.
At his words, Luel fell silent, lost in thought, staring down at the knuckles of his own hand. Duke didn't interrupt, allowing him the space to think.
After a long pause, Luel muttered, "Prove it to me. Boy, prove it to me once more. If you can show me something that convinces me, I will agree to any condition you set."
Duke met his gaze, then nodded. With a sharp whistle, he summoned Pride, and released Gluttony as well. The moment Gluttony hit the ground, she shifted into battle mode, stretching languidly.
"Mmm… what a good nap. But I'm hungry again…"
The instant she appeared, Luel's eyes locked onto her, transfixed.
"This… this is, " He dropped his cigar and rushed forward, trembling. "Did you create artificial life… with your own hands?"
Boom!
The wall burst open as Pride roared in, motorcycle wheels skidding before transforming into its combat form. Its eyes gleamed red as it scanned the room for enemies.
"Another one…"
Luel gasped, words tumbling out in disbelief. "You actually created two?"
"So this… this is the future you spoke of, brought by Hextech?"
"They're built with Hextech, yes," Duke said calmly. "Though other disciplines are woven in as well."
Luel was too entranced to care. Ever since Durand himself had built Galio, his descendants had dreamed of recreating that miracle. For centuries they had studied, chiseling away in vain.
Now, here it was before his eyes, artificial life born of mortal hands. Humanity touching the very domain of the gods.
Shaking with excitement, Luel burst out: "Name your conditions! Any condition, so long as our family may glimpse Hextech, glimpse the future! Anything you want!"
By then, the noise had drawn others outside the workshop. A few stonemasons arrived clutching hammers, faces tense, suspecting an intruder.
"There's a delegation from Piltover in town right now, Elder," Duke remarked casually.
Of course, Luel caught the implication. "You mean…"
"I can arrange for your younger kin to study Hextech at the Academy. I can even take one as a personal apprentice. But there is one condition you must agree to."
Duke raised a single finger.
Luel's eyes narrowed. "Say it."
"Unconditional support. From this day forward, your family stands with me, with Ferros, no matter what happens."
"…"
Luel studied Duke in silence, then slowly nodded. "Fine. I'll wager everything on this."
"Then I'll show you a brand new future."
Duke extended his hand. Luel gripped it without hesitation.
Just then, a crunching sound drew their attention. They turned to see Gluttony sheepishly shoving one of Luel's freshly-carved statues into her mouth, chewing noisily.
"Father… I'm hungry…" she said timidly, shrinking under Duke's glare.
Smack!
Duke rubbed his temple with a sigh. "My apologies, Elder. Please excuse her."
"No matter, no matter," Luel waved it off, chuckling. "Let her eat. Stones we have in plenty."
…
Night fell.
In the streets of Mithril City, a pair of glowing cyan eyes flickered in the darkness. Evelynn drifted soundlessly through the shadows, her form melting seamlessly into the night.
Her eyes glimmered faintly, sharp enough that even the keenest watchman would never notice her presence.
Sailors, drunks, and singing girls bustled in the lamplight, none aware of the predator watching them. Evelynn, however, saw everything, scrutinizing them with the practiced precision of a housewife picking cuts of pork at a market, seeking only the choicest piece.
Her gaze lingered on a man sprawled in a gutter, clutching a bottle of beetwine. She dismissed him immediately.
She was not yet so desperate as to feed on that.
No, what she craved was the young, the lively, the full of fire.
She needed prey that would feel every stab, every bite, every strip of flesh torn by her claws. That agony was her feast.
The drunkard couldn't even notice a rat crawling over his face. He was worthless.
Moving on, Evelynn slipped past a tavern window, the candlelight inside barely pushing back the gloom. A fat woman staggered out, belching, clutching a half-eaten turkey leg. Evelynn's lip curled. Disgusting.
If not for the mage-hunters swarming the city, she would never have descended into such a barren hunting ground. Here there was nothing but stale, lifeless prey.
She didn't just like to feed, she liked to create pain. And here, there was nothing worthy of her attention.
Until she saw him.
A young man in a white coat, hands shoved in his pockets, walking lightly with a satisfied smile. He looked as though he'd just experienced something wonderful.
At first glance, Evelynn was ensnared.
This one.
This was the prey she wanted.
The whips trailing behind her swayed eagerly, trembling with anticipation. Even at a distance, she could taste the calm delight radiating from him.
She flitted through the shadows at his back, careful not to lose him, careful not to be seen.
"Oh yes…" Evelynn whispered to herself, eyes gleaming. "Another happy soul for me to ruin."
End of chapter....
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