"A thousand years of life, within arm's reach!"
Jax muttered the effects of the potion under his breath, his tone carrying a strange weight.
"This is the second path to ascension for the people of Shurima, aside from the Rite of Ascension itself."
His gaze lingered on the vial of Uroa's potion in Duke's hand. To him, this was more than a relic, it was a reminder of memories buried in the sands of history. Everything he had once loved, hated, and fought for had long since vanished, forgotten by the world. Forgotten by all, except him.
"So that's how it is. Truly a peerless treasure!"
Duke slipped the potion back into his inventory. He had been hesitant about whether to use it, fearing its potency might have diminished over time, whether it might bring unpredictable changes, or even death by poison.
But with the confirmation of Jax, a creature who had endured for over a millennium, his worries eased. He resolved that once he returned, he would consume the potion to patch up his greatest weakness.
Once a flaw is recognized, it must be mended quickly, otherwise the longer it drags on, the worse it becomes.
"What are you planning to do next?" Duke asked, fingers idly spinning the neck of his wine bottle.
Jax's reply was low and steady: "I have only one wish now, to find warriors strong enough to stand by my side, to fight against the Void, and to rebuild Kohari."
"For that, I wander across Runeterra."
"Kohari… if I recall correctly, that was once part of Icathia a thousand years ago."
Duke remembered the name well, an order as formidable as today's Dauntless Vanguard, bold and unyielding. Back then, when Jax had struck down the divine warrior, it had been only with the aid of his fellow Kohari that such a feat was possible.
"That's right. But now, I'm the only one left."
A note of desolation threaded through Jax's voice. Then realization struck him: he had never spoken of his past aloud, so how did Duke know?
Especially Uroa's potion. In this era, hardly anyone could even recognize it. Other than himself, perhaps none remained.
Duke, of course, had simply seized the opportunity. If not for running into Jax, he would have waited for the likes of Nasus to reemerge and sought verification from him instead.
"Tell me, how did you know I could identify this?" Jax studied Duke with a piercing gaze.
Duke only shrugged, lips curving into a mysterious smile. "There are always some who can peer across the veil of time and glimpse truths buried in history."
He gave no straight answer, slipping easily into the role of the cryptic "riddle-sayer." Jax heard it and let it go, every man carried his secrets, himself included.
A man who knew of the Void, who knew Icathia's fall, that was hardly surprising.
"So, what's your next goal?" Duke pressed.
"I plan to head north, to Freljord," Jax answered, eyes drifting toward the horizon. "Perhaps there I might find the warrior I seek."
"And if you do?"
Duke tipped the bottle to his lips, already plotting how he might steer Jax otherwise.
"Then I'll bring them back to Icathia. Together, we'll rebuild Kohari and reclaim its former glory!"
"Will they really agree to that?" Duke spread his hands, his tone matter-of-fact. "Every man has ties. Some to wealth, some to love, some to family. Do you truly think that once you find your ideal warriors, they'll abandon all that to follow you to Icathia?"
"I will persuade them," Jax insisted.
He reached for a boiled egg, only to set it back down untouched. The years had already shown him the truth: despite his searching, he had yet to find even one who fit his vision.
"Very well. Let's say you succeed. You convince them, and they agree to return to Icathia with you." Duke leaned forward, counting off on his fingers. "What about the cost? The travel expenses, resettlement, provisions, how will you fund it? Where will the money come from? Swim across the sea, perhaps?"
Jax's silence deepened. Behind his mask, his face darkened. He had never considered such things.
"You've lived like a wanderer, traveling on foot, shouting for communication, sleeping wherever you end up. Your only indulgence, boiled eggs." Duke's words were sharp. "You may have lived for millennia, but wealth? Planning? You've never thought about it."
"I'll find a way," Jax muttered.
"Fine. Say you do. Then once you're in Icathia, what about supplies? What about medicine when your people are wounded? What about food, water, shelter? What happens when weapons wear down? When comrades fall and must be replaced? You have immortality, but they do not. When age claims them, will you scour the world again to find replacements?"
"And tell me, Jax, what effective means do you even have to counter the Void?"
One question after another rained down like hammer blows. Even a master like Jax could not maintain his composure under such relentless pragmatism.
After all, no matter how strong, every man still needed to eat, drink, and bleed. Immortal or not, he was no exception.
"Enough!"
The egg cracked sharply against the table in Jax's hand. These questions gnawed at him, stirring a frustration he could not shake. He had never truly thought so far ahead. His journey had been fueled by passion alone.
"Stop!"
Ripping away his mask, Jax revealed his scarred, fearsome visage. Clutching at his chin in frustration, he admitted, "You're right. I never considered any of that. But time is on my side. I will find answers, one by one."
"By then, it may already be too late."
Duke spread his hands, then outlined the Hexgate Project. When he finished, his voice was firm: "Hexgates will shrink the vast distances of the world. Runeterra will become like a single village. Whether Demacian, Noxian, Freljordian, or Ionian, they'll be only steps away from each other. The world will change forever."
"And when convenience rules the world, what then, Jax?"
"I… you…" Jax faltered, struck speechless. Closing his eyes, he leaned back in silence, then opened them again, glaring at Duke. "Enough games. What's your real aim? Speak plainly."
"Heh, so you saw through me, did you?"
"Of course. You wouldn't go on like this without a reason. Out with it."
"I want us to work together."
"Work together?" Jax's brow furrowed over his ruined features. "What exactly are you asking?"
"I want you to work for me. In return, I'll give you everything you desire, the warriors you long for, the homeland you wish to reclaim, the Void you dream of defeating."
"And what power do you have to make such promises?"
Duke touched the bandages on his right arm, voice calm. "I possess the power of science."
"Science?"
Jax scoffed. "I've seen Shurima's divine warriors march, floating citadels in the sky, and the earth itself collapsing into ruin. What can your so-called science compare to that?"
"To everything."
Duke opened his palm, his voice steady. "What you want, comrades in arms, is only because one man alone cannot achieve much. But I can give you an army. A mechanical army."
"They'll never falter. They'll know no fear, require no food, never tire. They will obey. They will fight."
"If you work with me, every year I'll provide you with one hundred units. Serve me for ten years, and you'll command two thousand."
"Two thousand machines… enough to crush a kingdom."
"Hah. If that's all you offer, then there's nothing more to discuss."
Jax rose abruptly, hefting his lamppost. Without another word, he turned toward the door.
Duke didn't stop him. He only said coolly, "I'll be in Demacia for a while. Think it over."
Jax snorted, slung his weapon over his shoulder, and left the tavern.
Left alone, Duke peeled a boiled egg, slowly eating it with a swig of wine, sinking back into his own thoughts.
Then, the sound of hooves outside.
A figure entered the tavern. The innkeeper hurried out from behind the counter, bowing low. "Lady Fiora!"
"I'm here to find someone. Pay me no mind."
Fiora brushed him off and scanned the room, her stride purposeful as she made straight for Duke's table.
Watching the proud, striking woman approach, Duke arched a brow and said with a faint smile, "Well now, beautiful, care to share a drink with me?"
End of chapter....
IRONBOUND PATRON
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