After getting the news out, Hill City immediately began making preparations.
In the council chamber, Luke asked Shyvana, "How long until that dragon gets here?"
Shyvana closed her eyes and carefully felt for it. When she opened them again, she answered, "At the latest, one day."
At the latest, one day. As for the soonest, there was no telling.
A dragon could cross a huge distance in no time if it truly pushed its speed.
Luke knew he had to move fast.
From the day he met Shyvana outside Hill City, he had known that dealing with this dragon was only a matter of time.
So he had seen today coming and made preparations in advance.
From the very beginning, he had never intended to let Shyvana leave on her own.
"Come with me."
He finished speaking and walked outside.
Shyvana followed behind him.
The two of them went back to Luke's residence one after the other.
Then he opened the door to a storage room.
Light spilled into the room and immediately illuminated a puppet inside.
It was a humanoid puppet in the shape of a woman, and on closer inspection, its build was remarkably similar to Shyvana's.
Luke poured mental force into the puppet. The next second, something incredible happened.
The puppet stood up on its own.
Even Shyvana was startled by the sight.
She hadn't sensed any trace of magic, and couldn't help but wonder how Luke had done it.
This was actually Luke's first time controlling a puppet as well, but as an LV7 puppeteer, even on his first try, the experience carved into his bones told him instinctively what to do.
"Next, I want you to pour as much of your magical aura into this puppet as possible."
Using his thoughts, Luke guided the puppet to Shyvana's side and spoke at the same time.
The puppet stopped in front of her.
Though Shyvana didn't know why he wanted this, she still nodded, raised a hand, and placed it on the puppet.
The next second, she began continuously circulating her magic. A glow spread across her hand, and the puppet slowly started absorbing it, shining with a faint red light.
The temperature in the storage room began to rise with the release of Shyvana's magic.
Seeing that, Luke said nothing and waited patiently.
He had added petricite to the puppet's materials, allowing it to absorb magic.
That point was crucial. Petricite's true effect wasn't sealing magic, but absorbing and storing it, so even after an aura was absorbed, it would still remain.
And there was no need to worry about the puppet being destroyed by Shyvana's fire magic.
"That's enough."
About ten minutes later, Shyvana withdrew her hand. She could tell the puppet had reached the limit of how much magic it could take in.
"Good. Now drink this."
Luke took out a pale green potion and handed it to her. Seeing the confusion in her eyes, he explained, "This will temporarily hide your aura. At least for a while, that dragon won't be able to detect you."
Shyvana nodded, accepted the potion, pulled out the stopper, and drank it without hesitation.
Fruit flavored. Pretty sweet, too.
After drinking it, she didn't feel anything special happen, so she looked to Luke and waited for his next instruction.
Luke glanced at her and felt like her whole presence really had changed a little.
Still, since it came from the system, the effect was trustworthy.
"Now stay in Hill City and wait for me to come back."
As he spoke, Luke headed outside.
When he returned to the council chamber, he began making arrangements. Around dusk, he left Hill City with the puppet.
Night fell.
At the Gates of Mourning, some Noxian soldiers stood watch on the walls while others patrolled. Under such tight surveillance, even the slightest disturbance outside the city would draw immediate attention.
Luke's figure appeared among the trees. He studied the Noxian soldiers on the wall without hurrying, patiently waiting for the right moment.
Second by second, time passed.
Under the night sky, the torches on the wall burned steadily.
Then suddenly, a sharp-eyed soldier spotted dragonbirds racing in from the distance and immediately shouted, "Alert! We've got enemies incoming!"
The next second, blurred silhouettes rapidly approached from the sky, a formation of dragonbird riders closing in fast.
In the blink of an eye, they were already attacking the top of the wall.
At the front, Cithria wielded a thrusting spear. With a single sweeping strike, she knocked a soldier off the battlements.
Her silverwing carried her through a tail sweep, sending another charging soldier flying.
The other dragonbird riders launched straight into the attack as well.
The guards on the wall reacted quickly, immediately gathering together and striking back. Battle erupted at once between both sides.
Arrows flew, shouts rang out, and amid all of it, no one noticed that a lone figure had already vaulted over the wall.
Listening to the sounds of combat behind him, Luke didn't waste any time. He removed the masked man's cloak from his body. The cloak also helped conceal his aura to some extent.
Combined with his concealment technique, it made the word infiltration feel like it had been carried out to perfection.
Beneath the cloak, he was wearing a full set of Noxian armor. Then he put on the helmet and jogged naturally toward the city.
He had only just turned a corner when he ran straight into a squad coming to reinforce the wall.
The officer at the front asked, "What's going on over there?"
Luke replied urgently, "A squad of dragonbird riders hit us. They've already killed several of our brothers."
"Keep going and call for more reinforcements." Hearing that, the man kept rushing toward the wall. "The rest of you, with me!"
Just like that, Luke brushed past the squad.
And that was only the first one.
The Gates of Mourning were packed with Noxian soldiers now. Altogether, their numbers likely exceeded a hundred thousand.
Noxian armies had always held the advantage in sheer numbers.
With that many people around, Luke didn't find it all that strange.
Dozens of windwing riders flew overhead toward the wall.
Once the number of soldiers around him increased, Luke no longer looked out of place on his own.
"I have to say, this smell really is brutal."
The helmet Luke wore covered his nose and mouth, but as he walked through the streets, that lingering stench still drifted into his nostrils, making him instinctively hold his breath.
"I swear, if I catch the bastard throwing shit, he's dead!"
"Seriously, my nose hasn't worked right for days, but somehow I can still smell this crap."
"Don't even start. I haven't slept well in almost ten days."
"What's going on at the gate?"
"Who knows. Probably those dragonbird riders again. Damn it, they're really hooked on dumping that stuff now."
"Which genius came up with throwing shit in the first place?"
The soldiers stood around in little groups of three or five, and once they heard the dragonbird riders had come again, they immediately started cursing.
"Hey, brother, got a light?"
As Luke walked, someone beside him suddenly spoke.
The man rummaged around on himself for a while and came up empty, so he looked at Luke.
Luke took a matchbox from his pocket, pulled one out, struck it, and with a sharp scrape, it flared to life.
He handed it over.
"Thanks."
The man wasn't wearing a helmet. He looked to be in his thirties, with a drooping mustache and a hand-rolled cigarette between his fingers.
After taking the match, he lit the cigarette, drew on it twice, and asked, "Want one?"
"No." Luke shook his head and asked curiously, "You can still smoke with this smell around? Doesn't it hit you?"
"Ha, this is nothing. The pigpen back in my hometown smelled worse than this, and I could still sleep in it just fine."
The man laughed, sat down on a wooden crate beside him, and asked, "Where you from, brother?"
Luke answered casually, "Trevale."
"So you're a local." The man looked at him, took a drag, and blew out a stream of white smoke. With some envy in his voice, he said, "Must be nice. Once this war's over, you can go straight home. My home's in Qualthola. No idea when I'll get back, or when this damn war's going to end."
Luke thought for a moment and said, "Unless something unexpected happens, probably soon."
"The sooner the better." The man smiled. "I don't want to fight another battle for the rest of my life. Let it end already. I still don't know what the people up top were thinking, picking a fight in the west for no good reason. After all these years and all these wars, I've figured out one thing, there's nothing good about war. It hurts people, drains money, ruins land, and every year plenty of people die because of this crap. Ours or theirs, what's the point?"
Luke asked, "Then why are you still fighting?"
"Because if I don't, I spend my whole life bowing my head to other people, raising pigs forever. Then after working my ass off to fatten them up, before I can even sell them at a good price, some noble takes a liking to them, tosses me a bit of money that isn't worth a damn, and walks off with a few nice plump pigs."
The man took a drag from his cigarette and sighed. "My dream's to be a chef. But how am I supposed to get the money to open a place in that kind of situation? And even if I did, thirty percent of it goes to taxes every year. After taxes, I'd still have to deal with local warlords and nobles. By the time it's all over, what I'd have left wouldn't even be enough to keep the wind out of my stomach. No way to live like that. So the only choice is to be a soldier. The only choice is war. Once this war is over, when I go back, I'll finally be somebody."
Luke nodded. "That's true."
The man looked at him. "You sound pretty young. Bet you haven't been in long, right?"
Luke neither answered nor denied it, which counted as agreement.
"I knew it." The man grinned, unsurprised. Then he said, "Speaking as someone who's been through it, let me teach you something. Call it advice from experience. When the fighting starts, don't go charging forward with your head full of military honors and glory. That's for people who actually have the skill to earn it. Men like us, what we need is seniority, and seniority only comes if you stay alive. You get that?"
Luke nodded.
"You've still got a long road ahead of you. Me, things are easier now. This is my last war. After this, I never have to swallow this kind of crap again."
The man took a deep, satisfied drag, his mustache twitching with the motion. Then, remembering something, he looked up and asked, "Got any dreams?"
Luke thought about it and said, "I'm a chef too."
"Well, would you look at that." Feeling an instant kinship, the man smiled. "Someday, you and I ought to compare notes in the kitchen."
Luke said, "If we get the chance."
"I've got time whenever." Maybe because they shared the same interest, the man felt even friendlier toward Luke. He beckoned him closer.
Luke stepped over and watched the man pull a folded sheet of drawing paper from inside his clothes. When he opened it up, it revealed a picture of a little girl with braided pigtails.
"My daughter." The man took a proud drag from his cigarette and showed it off. "Cute, right? She always says my cooking's her favorite."
Luke looked at the drawing and praised, "She is cute."
"Right?" The man's face filled with a smile and a trace of nostalgia. "But that was a few years ago. No telling how big she is now. Once this war's over, I'll get to go see her. Then I'll open a little diner in our town and make all her favorite food every day. If you've got time, come by. Just mention Furek's name, it'll get you through the door."
This time Luke didn't nod. He looked at Furek and said, "I have something to do. I should go."
"All right, come find me if you ever want to talk."
Furek stared at the drawing of his daughter as he answered absentmindedly. By the time he looked up to ask Luke's name, the young man had already disappeared.
He remained sitting there, slowly smoking his hand-rolled cigarette, surrounded by drifting smoke.
Luke headed toward the quieter parts of the city.
At least after coming to the Gates of Mourning, he now knew that Noxus was far from as glorious on the inside as it looked on the surface.
In an empire this vast, how many people were truly standing upright?
That wasn't a question he needed to think about. All he had to do was protect Demacia.
Before long, Luke found the entrance to the city's sewers. The drainage system here was the same as Demacia's, all connected to a waterway.
So after going down the steps, he naturally entered the sewers.
The stench inside was even worse, clearly not the kind of place anyone would visit for no reason.
Fortunately, Luke held his breath the moment he got in.
He found a concealed spot, took the puppet out of his system backpack, and set it in place.
Then he left without looking back.
At the very least, before Hill City had to deal with that dragon, a good thing like this ought to be shared with their good neighbors first.
Getting out of the city was much easier than getting in. Above the wall, the silverwing dragonbirds circled and tangled constantly with the windwings, keeping the attention of the Noxian soldiers on the battlements.
Luke threw the masked man's cloak back on, quickly vaulted over the wall, and headed toward Hill City.
About ten minutes after he left, the dragonbird riders in the sky started withdrawing as well.
In Patria's office, he slammed a hand onto the desk in fury. "Those damned dragonbird riders! Again and again!"
Whenever they had nothing better to do, those dragonbird riders would fly over to the Gates of Mourning and keep provoking Noxus.
Now they were even worse, coming whenever they pleased and leaving whenever they pleased.
They clearly didn't take Noxus seriously at all.
Patria had fought in several wars, but never had he suffered this kind of humiliation before.
The anger in his heart kept burning hotter and hotter, already nearing the point of eruption.
Around him, the deputy officers kept their heads lowered and didn't dare make a sound.
Even though the dragonbird riders had provoked them again and again, they really had no answer.
The enemy's advantage in the sky was absolutely overwhelming.
Only after venting for a while did Patria's anger calm down.
It continued until deep into the night, when many people were already asleep.
Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.
From high above, loud sounds kept coming from the sky, as if something enormous were beating its wings.
A few people who were still awake looked up instinctively.
Furek was staring at the picture of his daughter when he heard the sound and reflexively raised his head, only to see a massive black shadow drawing closer and closer.
Roar!
Accompanied by a deafening bellow, black flames surged down from the shadow.
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