Luke noticed a small detail.
Demacia's gold, silver, and copper coins all carried a special anti-counterfeiting mark, and they even used engraved minting techniques. That meant this country's typesetting and printing crafts had already reached a certain stage.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have randomly come up with the idea of making a newspaper.
Because for something like that, if it were just him alone… who knew how long it would take before it actually became real.
After hearing Luke out, the three of them didn't immediately voice any opinions. But from the look in their eyes, they seemed to want to give it a try.
At this moment, Kahina thought of something and looked up. "What you're talking about… I think I've heard a friend mention a similar, vague idea before."
"Who?" Luke looked at her, a little curious.
"Navis Durand Menck."
Kahina said the name out loud.
Hearing it, Luke paused.
He had no memory of it at all.
But that didn't matter—because he did recognize the name Durand.
Durand Menck: since the founding of Demacia, the greatest sculptor and master artisan-scholar, and also one of the earliest people to discover petricite and understand what it could do.
You could say he had rendered Demacia services paid for in blood.
That enormous petricite statue outside the city had been crafted by his own hands.
Unfortunately, in his later years, Durand was assassinated by agents from an enemy nation, bringing his brilliant life to an end.
But he left descendants behind. To honor him, they kept "Durand" as part of their names.
Nowadays, House Menck took pride in Durand, and stood as one of the pillars of Demacia's industrial might.
Just hearing that name made Luke want to go meet them.
But it was already getting late, and tonight clearly wasn't the right time.
After agreeing to gather again tomorrow morning, Luke planned to head back, eat a late-night snack, and then sleep like a king.
The bright moon hung high in the sky, and night had fully fallen.
On the small road, the chirping of cicadas rang out without end, disturbing what should have been a rare moment of quiet.
Pushing open the front door, Fiora walked toward the sitting room.
The house's style was a classic brown, old-fashioned palette. At the corner of the hallway stood a suit of armor, a cold gleam flashing from the blade gripped in its hand.
Every time she came home, she had to face it.
Entering the sitting room, Fiora found the lights still on.
Her mother, Elma, sat there—Fiora could only see a straight-backed silhouette, and then came a harsh interrogation:
"Fiora, where have you been all day?"
Fiora stared calmly at her mother's back. "Do I need to report my entire daily itinerary to you?"
That seemed to ignite Elma's temper.
Elma stood and turned around, anger on her face and a few more degrees of authority in her eyes. "As your mother, don't I have the right to know where my daughter has been all day?"
Fiora sighed. "Nowhere. I sat in the library all day."
Even giving ground didn't cool Elma down much.
Elma pointed at Fiora, irritated. "You're wasting time on meaningless things again! How many times have I told you—go socialize with noble ladies, attend more gatherings, expand your connections."
Fiora answered without much emotion, "I can't talk with them."
She'd heard these lines so many times she could practically guess what her mother would say next.
"Even if you can't, you still have to! You're a girl—there isn't that much expected of you!"
Elma said sternly. "I've arranged for you to meet a few noble ladies tomorrow. Go and get properly acquainted with them."
"I'm not going."
"You're going whether you want to or not! What can you do all day besides provoking me?"
"Tomorrow I already made plans with someone."
"Then the day after. Or the day after that. You'll go eventually!"
Elma's voice grew louder and louder, nearly a roar, her tone uncompromising.
Fiora fell silent. "…"
"If you won't speak, I'll take that as agreement."
Elma's voice returned to calm as she turned and sat back down.
Hearing that, Fiora turned and walked toward her room.
Just then, a door opened.
A middle-aged man stepped out—black hair streaked with gray. He walked with a limp, coughed twice, then sighed. "She's already an adult. Stop making her plans for her."
"I'm her mother. Everything I do is for her own good. Do you think I'd harm her?"
Elma sounded like she still hadn't cooled off, her mouth continuing to mutter complaints. "Look at her—day after day she does nothing but anger me. If you ask me, we'd be better off finding her a husband as soon as possible…"
Faced with the ranting, Sébastien gave a helpless smile and didn't say anything more.
Bang.
Fiora shut her door, cutting off the voices outside. The world instantly went quiet again—rare peace, yet it didn't ease her mood at all.
Her room was pitch-black. She leaned against the door in silence, a wave of exhaustion surging through her body.
In the darkness, when she lowered her head, it felt as if she could see chain after chain, wrapped tightly around her.
A carriage stopped at the Crownguard estate.
"See you tomorrow!"
After saying goodbye, Lux hopped down happily, hugging the ice cream she'd picked up from Luke's place. She hummed an unknown tune under her breath and walked home with a spring in her step.
In the sitting room, the lights were bright.
Augatha sat on the sofa, chatting with Tianna.
Hearing footsteps outside—and seeing it was Lux—Augatha immediately put on a stern face. "Why are you back so late? Where have you been running around all day?"
Lux blinked mischievously. "Guess!"
Augatha smiled, curling her fingers in a beckoning motion. "Come here. Guess if I'm going to guess."
In her other hand, the feather duster was ready at any moment.
Lux instantly behaved, sat on the sofa, set her ice cream down, and chattered away, spilling all the fun things that happened today.
"I don't know where you get that much energy," Augatha said after listening, giving Lux a look of disdain. "It's this hot and you can still run around. Go wash up—look at you, filthy. And don't forget you still have homework tomorrow."
"Got it."
Lux had just stood up, then sat back down again.
She glanced at the ice cream on the table, then put on a serious face as she looked left at Tianna and right at Augatha. In a solemn tone, she warned them:
"Don't steal my ice cream."
Augatha snorted. "Don't compare us to you. As if anyone would even want to eat it."
Tianna nodded in agreement.
Only then did Lux leave, satisfied.
Thirty minutes later.
Lux came back after washing up, delighted and ready to enjoy her ice cream.
But after she opened the box, she froze.
The ice cream that had been full was now only half left.
She immediately looked up in disbelief, staring at Tianna and Augatha—both of whom acted like they knew absolutely nothing.
One was reading, the other was busy with something in her hands, as though neither had noticed Lux's gaze at all.
After being stared at for too long, Augatha finally looked up, glanced at the box, and said with complete seriousness:
"It melted."
Lux: "?"
Are you both treating me like an idiot?
This was such a low-level lie that even Tianna awkwardly shifted a little to the side.
Lux slammed the table, both unhappy and furious. "Didn't you say you wouldn't eat any?! I demand an explanation!"
"Ahem." Augatha coughed guiltily and sighed. "You just don't understand a mother's careful intentions. I was worried you'd get a stomachache like last time, so I helped you eliminate some of it."
Lux looked at her with a face that screamed: Yeah, sure—tell that to a ghost.
Does your conscience not hurt when you say that, Mother?!
Then Lux turned to Tianna.
Tianna couldn't even be bothered to come up with an excuse. She cleared her throat. "Not bad. Your aunt tasted it for you. Pretty good."
Lux: (╯‵□′)╯︵┻━┻
At that moment, footsteps sounded from outside again.
Garen, finished with a full day of training, returned home. The moment he entered the sitting room, he felt like the atmosphere was… off.
"Mother. Aunt."
He greeted them, then looked toward his sister.
He only gave the box a quick, instinctive glance—
And immediately got hit with Lux's fierce glare, and her angry warning: "What are you looking at?! Don't look!"
Garen: "…"
He was completely baffled and innocent.
What was happening?
How did he just get home and get yelled at for no reason?
The Buvelle estate.
"So His Highness helped you again," Lady Lestara said kindly, smiling at her daughter, Kahina.
"Yes!" Kahina nodded repeatedly. "He was really attentive. If it weren't for him, the church business might've stayed a headache for who knows how long."
Lady Lestara had only seen Luke twice, so she didn't have much of an impression. Most of what she knew came from Kahina.
Hearing it like this, that "annoyingly smug prince" Kahina used to complain about actually seemed like a pretty good kid.
Lady Lestara smiled. "Since he helped you so much, you should prepare a proper gift of thanks."
"Mm." Kahina felt the same—then she frowned, troubled. "But I haven't figured out what to give him. It seems like His Highness doesn't really lack anything."
"That's something you'll have to think through yourself," Lady Lestara said, patting Kahina's head. "It's late. Get some rest."
"Mm."
Back in her room, Kahina didn't go straight to bed.
She sat at her desk, took out a box, and carefully removed the necklace inside.
She looked at it again and again—the more she looked, the prettier it seemed.
Suddenly, someone tapped her shoulder, and she jumped.
Turning her head, she saw her sister, head tilted, looking at her with a puzzled expression.
Sona made a few gestures: "What are you thinking about? You're so serious."
"Nothing," Kahina said, blushing as she put the necklace back into the box. "His Highness helped me with something. I'm thinking about what thank-you gift to give him."
Sona had noticed the necklace, but she didn't say anything. She sat down on a nearby chair.
First, she placed a hand over Kahina's chest, then made a few more gestures, offering a gentle smile.
"What matters isn't the gift. It's your sincerity."
"Mm."
Kahina seemed to understand. She lowered her head, lost in thought.
Seeing her sister like this, Sona couldn't help but think of Luke's face.
They'd only met once, but Luke had left a deep impression on her.
She didn't know whether what she'd heard back then was an illusion.
Maybe she should find a chance to confirm it.
Meanwhile, in Luke's courtyard.
He lay leisurely in a rocking chair, admiring the night scenery—bright moon overhead, stars sprinkled across the sky. It really was perfect.
Beside him, a water-powered fan spun with a steady whoosh.
Before long, Yurna brought over the late-night snack she'd made.
After tasting a few bites, Luke said in satisfaction, "Not bad, Yurna. Your cooking has improved a lot."
After all, she was his personal apprentice.
And honestly, Yurna's talent really was high—teach her once and she got it.
Yurna replied expressionlessly, "You praise me too much, Your Highness."
"Don't be modest," Luke said, shamelessly pleased with himself. "If you can earn my praise, that means you've already got solid skill in cooking."
This time, Yurna simply stopped talking.
After so many days, she had a decent understanding of Luke.
He was the sort of man who, if you gave him the slightest opening, could admire himself for a very long time.
Calling it arrogance felt a little strange, though—because he really did seem outstanding at everything.
That was exactly what made her curious.
How did Demacia end up producing someone like him?
With no one responding, Luke didn't keep talking either. He ate his late-night snack quietly.
For some reason, the face that flashed through his mind at this moment was the old man he'd run into that afternoon.
That was a bit strange.
He shook his head and stopped thinking about it.
Then Luke realized that for the next few days, he probably wouldn't get much peace either.
Outside the capital.
Several figures in black gathered together.
"Elder Dande, why did you call us here? Did you find something?" one of them asked first.
Among them, the man named Dande removed his hood, revealing an aged face mottled with liver spots. He grinned. "Just as I expected—the Fated One has been found. We can begin preparing to summon the Child of the Shadow God."
Another black-clad figure's breathing quickened. "You're serious?"
"Naturally. Do you think I'm lying?" Dande looked over at him.
"My apologies. I was just… excited," the man said, lowering his head. "I didn't expect the Fated One would be found so easily."
"You think it was easy?" Dande spoke, then suddenly coughed twice and spat out two mouthfuls of dark blood tinged with red. "After receiving the Shadow God's revelation, I used five years of my lifespan to divine the answer before I found the Fated One."
"Elder Dande…"
The people around him looked up, silent as they stared at him.
"No need to care," Dande said, grinning, his eyes burning with fanatical faith. "For the Shadow God, what does it matter if I offer up my life?"
Another black-clad figure asked again, "Then what do we do next? Do we go to the Fated One?"
"No need to rush." Dande waved his hand. "Calling you here was only to have you make preparations in advance. The time isn't right yet. For today, disperse."
"Yes."
They obeyed and departed in different directions.
Dande pulled his hood back up as well, and left with weary steps.
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