Swish!
A cold flash split the air, like water bursting from a shattered silver flask, forming a seamless curtain of blades aimed straight for Duke's neck.
Daggers rained from all sides. From the front, another slash of steel hurtled toward him. Duke's eyes narrowed slightly.
The attacker comes with deadly intent.
But—
All of it was useless!
A sharp cicada's cry rang out. In the blink of an eye, every dagger shattered into dust. Duke flipped his left hand, locking a peculiar gauntlet into place, and pulled the trigger toward the assailant.
Buzz!
A sudden suction burst forth, like an endless black hole in the void, pulling everything inexorably toward it.
The attacker, springing from the shadows, was dragged helplessly toward Duke's palm by the gauntlet's magnetic pull.
Yet instead of panic, the assassin swung his blade forward with ruthless precision, trying to use the momentum to cleave Duke's head clean off.
But—
The blade splintered in his hand, shattering into fragments that crumbled into dust, scattering into the void. At that very moment, Duke's left hand clamped down on the man's throat.
A slick, slippery sensation slid beneath his fingers—it felt like gripping a writhing eel, straining to escape.
The man's body flickered, half-dissolving into shadow.
"Shadow magic?"
Duke raised an eyebrow. So that was how this assassin had slipped past his perception.
He could merge with darkness itself, hiding in the folds of shadow. Bold, though. Wasn't he afraid of drawing Nocturne's wrath?
Wait!
Duke's face stiffened.
Nocturne had long since been captured, sealed in a bottle, bound by Duke's magic, and sent out on an errand.
With no predator lurking in the soul-realm to stalk shadow-users, it was no wonder this assassin had dared to show himself.
Still—shadow magic? No one had wielded that in ages.
The only group Duke knew of was Ionia's Order of Shadow.
But Zed and his disciples should be waging guerilla war against Noxus right now.
So where had this assassin come from?
Clutching the man's throat, Duke forced a surge of raw magic into his body, violently rifling through his memories.
In the past, he'd had to taint his targets with magic before prying memories from their souls.
But ever since reaching the Soul-Quenching Realm, that hassle was no longer necessary.
It took only moments. Duke's expression shifted as the assassin's life unfolded before him. Demacia's nobles truly were reckless beyond belief.
The man was no rogue. He was a trained killer, owned by a powerful noble house. Duke's actions had threatened their interests—so they had simply sent an assassin.
"You've got guts, I'll give you that."
Duke muttered under his breath, then began to rewrite the assassin's memories.
Soon after, he tossed the man to the ground, saying coldly, "Go. You know what to do."
The assassin staggered, nodded, and slipped back into the shadows.
If they refused to play by the rules, Duke would show them no mercy either.
Tucking away the gravitational gauntlet, Duke flexed his hand. The device could create localized gravity fields, drawing enemies in. A prize from his last lottery draw.
If he dug deeper, it might even yield a Black Hole Annihilation Bomb.
But he didn't have the time. That could wait.
"You've been watching long enough. Come out."
Duke turned toward a patch of darkness, folding his arms with an exasperated sigh. "Using gear I gave you to tail me—does that make you confident, or just stupid?"
"Shauna Vayne!"
At his words, the shadows rippled. The air shimmered, forming into shifting blocks of color until a tall figure emerged—Vayne.
"Something's wrong with the gear you gave me?" she snapped.
"You think I wouldn't leave a backdoor in my own designs?" Duke blinked slyly. "I make sure no one turns my own inventions against me."
"As for tonight—" he spread his hands, "I knew you were on me the moment you started tailing me."
"Did no one ever tell you, your stealth is pathetic?"
Vayne's ice-blue eyes glared at him through her visor. She said nothing.
Duke smacked his lips. "You mind not staring holes into me like that? About last time—actually…"
Thunk!
A silver bolt embedded in the ground at his feet, quivering with the force behind it.
"You say one more word, I'll end you here," Vayne said, her voice like ice.
Duke shrugged. "Well, in that case, I'll take my leave."
He turned toward the alley's mouth, but Vayne's crossbow aimed squarely at his back.
"Wait."
Duke scratched his head. "What now? Want me to make you a suit of armor as compensation? One that can fly, maybe?"
"I came to settle things."
Her voice was cold, but her eyes burned. "What happened last time—I can't forgive it. I will have this out with you."
"You mean, a fight?"
Duke arched an eyebrow, gave her a quick once-over, then shook his head. "Forget it. You can't beat me."
Thunk!
Another bolt struck at his feet, her weapon automatically reloading, the arrowhead glinting as it hovered toward his throat.
"I said, I want this settled."
Duke sighed. "Here, or…"
"Follow me."
She lowered her weapon, turned, and strode out of the alley.
Duke plucked the bolt from the ground, twirled it in his fingers, and followed without hesitation.
They walked through the capital's shadows, out of the bustling streets, until they reached a small two-story villa.
Duke stroked his chin. "And this place is…?"
"My home."
Vayne's voice was hard. "Here, before my parents' spirits, I'll wash away my disgrace."
"Well then—come at me."
Duke spread his arms, letting her make the first move.
"You'll regret this," Vayne hissed.
Whoosh!
Three silver bolts shot out in unison. Duke didn't even bother to dodge. With a flash of Cicada's Song, all three disintegrated into dust midair.
Vayne's eyes narrowed, but she pressed on, unleashing a rapid volley while drawing her composite crossbow.
Boom!
An alchemical charge ignited, the night echoing with its blast. Dozens of bolts filled the sky, forcing Duke into a storm of steel.
Vayne leapt back, vanishing soundlessly into the shadows.
Cicada flitted through the void, knocking every bolt harmlessly aside.
Duke looked toward the darkness and sighed. "You know I leave backdoors in my gear, yet you dare use it against me? Really?"
Her answer was a grenade. The freezing bomb burst midair, filling the courtyard with a cloud of icy mist.
Duke plucked a sonic screwdriver from his pocket and tapped it lightly. The frost dispersed instantly.
"Freezing grenades are deadly—crippling legs, stopping foes cold. But they're useless against Freljordians, and can be scattered with the right frequency."
"Shut up!"
Vayne's voice cut through the dark, followed by another storm of bolts.
This time Duke didn't even let Cicada move. He simply stood and let the arrows strike.
Clang, clang, clang
They bounced off his skin like steel on stone, leaving not a scratch. His flesh was as hard as petricite.
Hidden in shadow, Vayne faltered. None of her attacks so much as grazed him.
"You can't hurt me. You can't kill me. Let's end it here."
Duke checked the time, turned, and began to leave. "I'll send you a suit of armor as an apology. It's late—you should rest."
"Stop!"
Vayne burst from the shadows, casting aside cloak and visor, lunging at him with a bolt aimed for his throat.
Duke sidestepped, seized her wrist, and with his other arm caught her around the waist.
"Enough already!"
He let out a weary sigh. "Fine, it was my fault before. But when it comes down to it…"
His words trailed into silence as his eyes met hers.
He released her and stepped back. Vayne stood frozen, bolt still in hand, staring at him without a word.
Duke sighed again. "What do you want from me?"
Her gaze was unyielding, flickering with hatred, humiliation, resentment—and something more uncertain.
For a moment, Duke's heart softened. Looking at her, his eyes drifted to her lips, crimson like fire. Memories of that night flared back, igniting a flame in his chest.
"I hate women like you the most—clingy and impossible," he muttered, covering his face with his hand.
Vayne's lips curled into a mocking smile. "What, are you going to kill me now?"
"Kill you? No." Duke stepped forward, placing his hands firmly on her shoulders. "But tame you? That's another story."
"Tame me?"
Vayne laughed coldly. "And how will you do that? Whisper sweet nothings? Tender devotion? Or win me over with heartfelt sincerity?"
"I don't waste words where action will do."
Duke leaned close, his face filling her vision. "Want to find out?"
Her eyes reflected his. Then, slowly, she closed them, her voice trembling just slightly.
"Prove it."
"With pleasure, my lady."
End of chapter....
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