"Please wait a moment, sir!"
The Mage-Hunter Malnos approached Duke, his palm never leaving the staff at his side. From beneath his bronze-forged mask, only his eyes were visible, sharp and probing.
"I don't recall seeing you around here. Do you have any identification papers?"
"So now even travelers must suffer interrogation by Mage-Hunters?"
Hearing Malnos's voice, Duke sighed helplessly and stopped walking. He spread his hands, showing he carried no threat.
"Traveler?"
Nevas gave a cold snort. His vulture-like eyes gleamed with a strange light as he circled Duke. Slowly, deliberately, he drew his weapon, pacing like a predator. Every step was measured, every muscle tense and released, ready to strike the instant Duke showed any sign of resistance.
If Duke made even the slightest motion of attack, Nevas would pounce without hesitation.
"Yes, I'm traveling in preparation for the upcoming Grand Tournament of Glory. Before the competition, I wanted to refine my skills, hone myself to the peak."
Sliding a hand into his pocket as if reaching for something mundane, Duke instead pulled his identification document from his inventory and handed it to Malnos.
Malnos took the papers, studying them carefully. Nevas, however, never took his eyes off Duke. To see a traveler without any baggage appearing in a remote mountain village was suspicious enough.
Even a hermit-warrior living in seclusion would bear the weathering of hardship on his body. But this young man's clothes were far too clean, untouched by the roughness of the wild.
Highly suspicious.
After a thorough check, Malnos gave Nevas a nod, indicating nothing was amiss.
Yet Nevas moved toward a boy standing nearby, resting a hand on the youth's shoulder. He spoke in a low voice:
"Can you sense anything?"
"I…" The boy hesitated, glancing at Nevas. Malnos, in a softer tone, encouraged,
"It's alright. We uphold order. We enforce the law."
"Everything we do is for Demacia. Just tell us what you see."
Bolstered by their words, the boy nodded slightly. His trembling arm lifted, finger pointing directly at Duke.
"He… he's a mage!"
"Tch." Duke clicked his tongue, meeting the boy's gaze with reproach, as if to say, You shouldn't have said that.
"I knew it!!"
With a roar, Nevas swung his staff, the strike aimed directly at Duke's skull with lethal force, showing not the slightest intent of mercy.
The whistling rush of air warned Duke as the blow descended. He felt the chill of murderous intent.
This Mage-Hunter had never intended to arrest or banish a mage. His first and only thought was execution.
Boom!
Duke's fist, now clad with five vibrating metal rings, clenched tight. He caught the staff mid-swing, sighed, and muttered,
"I should've gone straight to Fosbyro instead of coming here."
The villagers gasped in shock. The seemingly well-born youth before them revealed himself to be a dangerous mage.
Though their village already had one such mage, that man had at least taken the burden of suspicion off them.
A young man with wild hair shrank back in fear, retreating behind the protective wall of villagers. His gift of nurturing plants, even in the dead of winter, was invaluable to their survival.
He could not be risked.
As for this stranger, the villagers could only pray for his soul. If fate allowed, they would gather his remains.
"Well, well. Didn't expect you to know martial arts too!"
Nevas gritted his teeth, his muffled voice distorted by the mask, his hawk-like eyes burning with malice.
Duke lifted a hand in a placating gesture.
"How about we make a deal? You pretend you never saw me, and I'll pretend I never saw you. If it's money you want, I can pay. We'll go our separate ways. How does that sound?"
"I only want one thing," Nevas snarled, "your life!"
"I really don't want to kill you…"
The staff retracted and lashed forward again, the other end striking for Duke's abdomen. But Duke slid backward across the dirt as if gliding on ice, vanishing from the strike zone.
"Malnos!"
Nevas pressed forward without pause, his movements relentless. Duke's body, smooth as oil on water, slipped effortlessly across the earth.
"Got it!"
Malnos drew his hooked staff, flanking Duke in perfect sync with Nevas. The hook shot toward Duke's ankle to sever his tendon while Nevas's staff came crashing down at his head.
One aimed to cripple, the other to kill. Their teamwork was seamless, clearly seasoned partners.
"Fist-Gun Technique, "
Duke's left leg braced behind, his right leg bent forward. His body coiled like a bowstring, building tension.
"Flintlock Shot!"
Bang!
His fist shot forward, shattering the air with a sonic crack. Nevas's staff splintered under the blow. Duke dropped low, twisted, and snapped his leg like a whip, slamming Nevas across the waist and sending him flying.
Without pause, Duke slid forward again, his right fist tightening.
Malnos barely had time to raise his staff in defense. Too slow.
Thud!
The blow landed squarely, blasting him off his feet. He skidded across the ground, tumbling in a heap.
Flexing his knuckles, Duke glanced at the vibrating metal rings. They were his crafted trigger-rings, essential for the Fist-Gun Technique. Without them, many of his advanced moves, like the devastating "Carpet Bomb", would be impossible.
Especially against armored foes, the rings allowed him to transform shockwaves into firepower. Without them, breaking through would be near impossible.
Within a minute, the two Mage-Hunters lay defeated. Duke let the rings' chain clink as he folded them away.
"You're not going to kill them?"
The boy from earlier spoke up, trembling, moving to shield the fallen Malnos. Duke tilted his head, curious.
"How did you know I was a mage?"
"I… I can see the aura of magic in others. They made me help them find mages."
"A natural Mage-Sensor?"
Duke scratched his chin. A memory surfaced, someone with the same gift, though they were still imprisoned in the Black Cells. Impossible to be here.
"Where are you from?"
"Zhenxi County."
Duke muttered to himself,
"Right, the one I know is from Biangou Town, and the timeline doesn't match anyway. Not many with that kind of gift…"
He looked back at the boy. "And who is he to you?"
"I…" The boy glanced nervously at Malnos. "My superior officer."
"Doesn't sound right."
"My uncle…"
"Heh. Dragging your own nephew into Mage-Hunting? How noble."
Duke gave Malnos a cold snort before glancing at the villagers. The boy, torn between family and justice, stepped forward.
"If you want to kill my uncle, then kill me first!"
"Before you act tough, look at your legs."
Duke patted the boy's head. Only then did the youth notice his knees trembling uncontrollably. Killing the two Hunters would be easy enough, but it would stir greater trouble.
Leave them alive, and they would hound him like sharks scenting blood.
"Boy, how about a deal?"
"A… deal?"
"You agree, and I'll spare them."
"I won't break the law!" the boy blurted out, making Duke roll his eyes.
"Relax. I'm not asking you to."
"You just need to do one thing."
"What is it?"
"If you ever make it to the Capital, find the Piltover branch there. Tell them you were sent by someone from House Ferros. Show them your gift."
"That's… it?" The boy looked doubtful.
Duke chuckled.
"You don't understand how valuable your gift is. In Piltover, the great families would compete to claim you."
Mage-Sensors were indispensable for monitoring Hextech Gates, their ability to perceive magic flow making them perfect for maintaining such constructs.
If he brought this boy to Piltover, Jace wouldn't let him slip away for a second.
The boy's eyes widened. For the first time since being branded a "tainted one," he felt… wanted. A glimmer of hope flickered in his heart.
"Really?"
"Try it for yourself." Duke shrugged. "If you want a new life, go to Piltover's trade district. Look for a man named Wolef. He'll give you a future."
The false veil over Duke's left eye slipped away, revealing the God-Eye beneath. With a single glare, every villager and Hunter present fell under its influence.
Their memories… rewritten.
Moments later,
Malnos sat under a tree at the village entrance, clutching his bruised face. He spat blood and cursed,
"These villagers are too violent. We just stopped to resupply and they attacked us outright!"
"Enough. You know how mountain folk are, suspicious of outsiders. Rest up, then we'll continue patrol."
Nevas passed him a waterskin. Malnos nodded, while the boy watched silently.
They remembered nothing. Neither Duke, nor the battle.
The boy, however, trembled with a new and nameless fear. What was that man?
How could anyone wield such terrifying power?
On a mountain trail elsewhere,
Achoo!
Duke sneezed, rubbing his nose as he examined the map he'd lifted from Malnos and Nevas.
"Let's see… to reach Fosbyro, I need to pass through…"
"Hm, the Anti-Magic Forest?"
His eyes lit up. "Didn't think one existed here. I thought it was only in Greenfang Peaks? Why is it marked on this map?"
"Whatever. I'll take a look and find out."
End of chapter....
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