"Well now, beauty, care to share a drink with me?"
Duke raised an eyebrow at the newcomer, lifting the bottle in his hand as if in invitation.
Fiora walked straight toward him, her purpose clear.
The proud and striking woman glanced at the table: a plate of half-eaten boiled eggs, one empty bottle, and another still sealed.
"Where did he go?"
"You mean Jax?"
Duke sipped from his bottle, picked up a boiled egg, and cracked it lightly on the table.
"Yes, him. He's taken over my bridge."
"But he's already left."
As Duke slowly peeled away the eggshell, Fiora's voice was cold. "And what difference does that make?"
"If you hurry, you might still catch him. Cloaked man, carrying a lamppost on his shoulder, that's him."
Duke studied the egg in his hand. Just as Fiora turned to leave, he suddenly said, "Do me a favor, tell him I'll be waiting for his reply."
Rising to his feet, Duke stepped closer and pressed the peeled egg into her hand. "And here's a word of advice: sometimes, charging ahead alone doesn't solve everything."
Stretching lazily, Duke strolled out of the tavern. Fiora frowned slightly at his departing figure, the egg still warm in her hand.
Had this man… seen through her?
She didn't throw the egg away. Instead, she handed it to the innkeeper's daughter, nodded curtly to the owner, then strode out into the night.
Mounting her horse, Fiora cast one last glance at the slow-moving carriage carrying Duke away.
"What a strange man."
That same night, at the Crownguard estate.
In the dining hall.
"You intend to enter the Grand Tournament of Glory?"
Hearing Duke's plan, Tianna Crownguard raised her brows in surprise. The Tournament was when all of Demacia's warriors contended for the highest honor. What business did a craftsman from Piltover have meddling in such an affair?
Not that foreigners were forbidden to participate, but still, one ought to consider one's own strength.
"That's right," Duke replied. "It's not every day such a grand event is held. I'd be a fool not to test myself. And from what I've heard, the Tournament has no special restrictions, so long as the matches are fair and just, anyone can take part."
At that, Tianna recalled the young man before her was the very inventor behind Piltover's most popular export to Demacia.
The exoskeleton, his creation.
If so, he might well have left himself a custom design.
"Since you've made up your mind," Tianna said, raising her glass, "I'll wish you success in earning a good rank."
Duke clinked his glass against hers with a smile.
After dinner, Duke and Lux each returned to their own rooms.
Lux's quarters here were always kept pristine, regularly cleaned and maintained, so that she could return at any time and settle in without delay.
Duke entered his guest chamber. The space was generous: a private bath, washroom, study, bedroom, even a parlor for games, and a wide balcony spacious enough for an outdoor barbecue.
Heading straight to his bedroom, Duke set his beast companions to rest: Ang was stored within the Beast Casket for regular maintenance, while Pride and Gluttony slumbered in his inventory.
He had once asked them what it felt like to rest in there. Pride had described it as drifting in a boundless blue grid, quietly asleep, without any particular sensation.
Closing the bedroom door and drawing the curtains, Duke released Pride and gave a firm order: "Stand guard. Don't let anyone disturb me."
"Yes, Father."
Pride bowed low, beginning his watch. Duke, meanwhile, drew forth the vial of Uroa's potion.
"This is the only way left to mend my weakness. Let's hope your power is as formidable as legend claims."
He struggled to pull out the cork, what had been effortless in Jax's hand proved troublesome for him. Then again, considering Jax's strength, it was understandable.
At last the cork came free. Within the bottle, the liquid gleamed like captured moonlight. Without hesitation, Duke swallowed it all in a single gulp.
The moment it slid down his throat, Duke's eyes flew wide. An unbearable heat erupted deep within his body, violent and merciless, like molten lava flooding through every vein.
Thud!
He collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath, every exhalation like fire spewed from a furnace. It felt as though his flesh was being seared away, leaving nothing but ash.
His hands clawed into the floorboards, gouging deep grooves as he fought against the agony.
Time lost all meaning. Just as he thought he would burn to cinders, a sudden chill surged from within, flooding his limbs, seeping into every vessel, and gathering in his heart.
His pupils, once constricted in pain, widened slightly. His fingers had sunk entirely into the wood, proof enough of his torment.
But now a new problem arose, the cold was fading too quickly, as though unable to sustain itself.
At that moment, his mana stirred, flowing of its own accord to feed the cold, bolstering it anew.
Visions flashed before his eyes, oceans rising and falling, ages shifting like sand. His very soul was undergoing transformation beneath the potion's power, like molten steel plunged into ice water, tempered again and again, stronger with each strike.
But Duke knew it still wasn't enough. He needed more mana.
"Pride!"
He thrust out his hand. "Give me your magic!"
"Yes, Father!"
Pride knelt and channeled his mana into Duke.
Empowered, Duke's body and soul underwent another round of metamorphosis, until at last he pushed Pride away with a firm voice. "Enough. That will do."
"You've done well, Pride. I owe this breakthrough to you."
"It is my honor to lighten Father's burdens."
"Good child."
Duke smiled warmly, then closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he felt it, an entirely new world.
His body now rivaled that of an Ascended, though he had retained his mortal flesh. Uroa's potion had tempered his very soul, and his physique had hardened as a fortunate side effect. His body was as resilient as null-stone, and his soul had reached the stage of true refinement.
The first step on the path of immortality.
A lifespan of a thousand years, within reach.
Even if his body perished, his soul alone could anchor him to rebirth. But Duke would never allow himself to fall so far.
And there was more, his affinity for magic had grown immensely. Where once he had needed to feed power again and again into a spell-seed, now a single thought sufficed.
Even his once-damaged right arm had healed completely under the potion's influence.
"My weakness has been mended. Now all that's left is to adapt to this new strength."
Flexing his fingers, Duke felt the surge of newfound power. If he were to face Kha'Zix again, perhaps this time he wouldn't need any aid at all to crush him outright.
End of chapter....
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