"Damn this so-called Forbidden Stone Forest, who the hell drew this map?!"
Staring at the location marked on the parchment, Duke gazed at the beast-ridden riverside before him. Where exactly was this Forbidden Stone Forest?
It didn't exist at all!
Where did those two Seeker-hunters even get this map from?
So unreliable!
Duke cursed under his breath as he flipped the map over and over, checking it carefully. It was filled with numerous markings, yet after a closer comparison, he realized that many of them were flat-out wrong.
"These two must be insane, carrying around a faulty map on their journey!"
Rolling his eyes, Duke shredded the parchment into dust and released his drone to recalibrate direction. These Seeker-hunters truly were unreliable. It was one thing that they had attacked him on sight, but even the things they carried around were worthless.
On a mountain path not far away,
"Nivas, have you seen the decoy map I was carrying?"
"No. Why?"
"It's missing!"
Marcenno checked his belongings, then ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "That was the bait map I spent days crafting after studying this terrain!"
"You mean the one you bragged about at the tavern, the map that could lure those mage-scum into ambush posts and dead zones?"
"Yes, that very one!"
"You probably lost it that night you got drunk."
Nivas knew exactly which map his comrade referred to. The thing had been designed as a trap, misplacing the Forbidden Stone Forest, which only existed on Greenfang Peak, onto a beast-ridden zone near Fosbarrow. Only an outsider would fall for that.
No true Demacian would fail to know where the real Forbidden Stone Forest lay.
Anyone foolish enough to follow that map would likely be torn apart by the beasts gathered there.
The young boy trailing behind his uncle twitched his lips. If his memory served, wasn't it Duke who had taken that very map?
Seeker-hunters never carried proper maps anyway, their routes were committed to memory.
Marcenno had prepared the decoy merely to cause his killer trouble even in death.
From such details one could see the hunters' hatred for mages. Even if they were to die at a mage's hand, they still made contingencies to trouble them afterward.
"Ugh, what a headache."
After dispatching a beast that had conveniently delivered itself for supper, Duke left the roasting to Wally. He found a flat patch of ground and began piecing together the geography from memory of Demacia.
Fosbarrow lay to his southeast. If he went north, he would trespass into Freljord territory.
So southeast it was, to Fosbarrow. There, he would rest, then turn toward Mithril City, and from there head westward to reach the grand capital of Demacia.
It wasn't that Duke had no maps at all. Camille had provided him with one, but it lacked the detailed terrain around Fosbarrow's mountain ranges. Borderland maps were never shared lightly, who would so easily expose them?
The one he had taken from the Seekers turned out to be fake, slowing his progress. When he finally arrived at the marked site, he discovered nothing but a communal watering spot for wild beasts.
"I can't just take maps off strangers anymore."
"Even the wisest falter once in a thousand schemes. I'll remember this lesson."
Closing his notebook, Duke glanced up as his drone's warning pinged.
Something large was approaching from the east.
"What's this…?"
He studied the feed, switched the drone to optical camouflage, and quietly dismissed Wally back into storage. Sitting by the firepit, he calmly turned the spit of roasting meat.
Before long, three small dots circled overhead, drawn by the flicker of firelight in the forest. They wheeled in the air, then descended.
The heavy beat of wings grew louder. Duke looked up, three massive beasts descended slowly, each carrying an armored rider.
These mounts were among the apex predators of the skies, found only in Demacia, Dragon Avians.
They nested among cliffs, unrivaled hunters. With powerful wings and sleek bodies, they soared with grace yet dove with lethal precision upon prey.
Their appearance matched their name, shaped like savage wyverns, yet covered in the feathers of great birds.
Claws tipped their wings, letting them climb sheer cliffs and doubling as weapons in battle.
A long, serpentine neck connected their bodies to the head of a mighty eagle, fierce and majestic. Their eyes radiated predatory menace and innate authority.
When the three beasts landed, the knights astride them cast their gazes toward Duke. Yet their eyes lingered not on him, but on the slain beast by his fire.
A Fangbeast, cunning and ferocious, the forest's most dangerous predator.
Ordinary hunters could hardly kill one. Most fled at the mere sight.
"Greetings, traveler!"
One of the knights raised her voice. Duke rose politely, offering a slight nod.
"Well met, noble knights. Care for some food? I've plenty to share."
"Thank you for your kindness, but we are on patrol and cannot linger."
The leader was a woman. Her voice rang clear and straightforward, a tone that inspired trust and betrayed her forthright nature, decisive, without pretension.
"Then may I ask what brings you here?"
Duke sat back down, never taking his eyes off her. She was clad in seamless silver armor, a full visor enclosing her face, designed for both resilience and protection against the cold winds of high altitude. It was light enough for movement yet strong enough to endure combat, crafted to avoid burdening her mount.
At the Dragon Avian's side hung a long twin-pronged trident, resembling the harpoons of Bilgewater, but built not for fishing, rather for killing.
To ride such a beast marked her as exceptional indeed, for Dragon Avian knights were rare.
Duke's eyes flicked calculatingly, if he used Cicada's Call, he could kill both rider and mount in less than a breath. Barehanded, without external tools, it would demand tearing the knight down before she could take flight, snapping the beast's neck in one swift strike.
"Routine patrol. You don't look like you're from around here, so we must inspect you."
"Fair enough."
Duke shrugged. His neat clothing, unsullied by the roughness of travel, was indeed suspicious. But he hadn't brought much else, just his trench coat and a lab coat in his inventory.
"Papers and identification."
Duke handed them over. The Dragon Avian gently took them in its beak and passed them to its rider. She stroked its head as she accepted the documents.
"A contestant in the Grand Tournament of Glory?"
Reading them, the knight's tone carried surprise. "If you're a participant, why waste time here? Shouldn't you be in the capital preparing?"
"I chose one final journey, to temper away arrogance and restlessness."
Duke took back his papers once the Avian returned them, untouched by drool, to his relief.
"You're quite the odd one," she remarked frankly. "Every competitor I've seen arrives at the capital months early, to study the arena, to gather information on rivals, to secure sponsorship. Yet you wander here?"
"There's time enough. I prefer to walk the road to the capital, to see more of the world on my way."
The knight studied him again, then suddenly pulled her trident free, thrusting at Duke without warning.
Duke slipped back in a swift step, fist drawing tight for a counterstrike.
But the blow never came, the knight stopped her weapon short.
Seeing her halt, Duke restrained his strike, tamping down the battle-hunger rising in his chest. He had thought his mage identity exposed.
"My apologies, traveler," the knight said firmly. "I mistook you for a mage."
His reaction, the retreat and poised counter, was proof enough. No mere spellcaster would fight like that.
"…And what about me seems mage-like?" Duke asked dryly.
She nodded. "Your attire, your calm and aloof bearing, it suggested otherwise."
"And now?"
"I retract my suspicion. Forgive me. Recently, raiding bands of Freljord berserkers have crossed the border, aided by mages. Without my Grey Seal wards, I may have overreacted."
She lowered her trident, then tossed him a small emblem. "This is my family crest. Should others question you, show them this, I stake my family's honor on your integrity. Take it as my personal apology."
"See that you don't repeat it."
Duke accepted the emblem, the anger on his face softening, though doubt lingered.
Were Demacians truly all muscle-headed? To assault someone simply because his appearance seemed "mage-like"?
Yet this confirmed one thing.
Their fear and hatred of mages was etched deep in their bones. At the faintest hint, they struck without hesitation.
If proven true, Duke had no doubt they would charge, shouting "For Demacia!"
"Has the situation truly grown so dire?"
He prodded for information. If things were so tense that even Dragon Avian knights were this jumpy, then his plan to spread Hex-gates might face major obstacles.
"Forgive me, I cannot say more. Only this: the mages are scheming again."
With that, she tugged her reins. The three knights prepared to depart.
But a sharp eagle's cry echoed from afar. At once, the riders spurred their mounts skyward.
"Leave this place quickly, traveler!"
With that final warning, they soared toward the sound.
"…So tense over a single eagle's call? Could it be Valor and Quinn?"
Duke rubbed his chin, idly playing with the emblem.
"Well, I was tricked by that fake map, but at least I gained something like a travel pass. Not a total loss."
Still, that cry had carried urgency.
End of chapter....
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