It was deep into the night.
Inside the palace.
In King Jarvan III's bedchamber.
Having just finished dealing with state affairs, Jarvan III slowly returned to his room. A servant stepped forward and gave a cord a gentle pull. With a click, the entire room lit up.
"Call for me if you need anything, Your Majesty."
With that, the servant bowed slightly and withdrew outside.
Jarvan III looked at the brightly lit chamber. Even though the electric lights had been installed in his rooms some time ago, he still had not fully gotten used to them.
If there was one thing he was not used to, it was probably how bright they were.
Far, far brighter than a single candle flame.
He had always been fairly good at accepting new things, and when he thought back to Wenward's confident assurances that "the path of science will open a better future for Demacia," a faint smile appeared on his face.
Then, inevitably, he thought of his youngest son.
It seemed that ever since that boy had arrived, the capital had undergone quite a few changes.
These flourishing new developments really had shown him a better future.
Though it was already late into the night, Jarvan III did not go to bed. Instead, he walked to his desk and sat down.
Several newspapers lay on it, already turned to the comic pages.
He liked this comic very much.
As he looked at it, the story had reached the point where the hero had been trapped in a place called the Valley of Evil.
The reason it had come to be known as the Valley of Evil was tied to events from many years ago.
The people now living there were the descendants of those who had once served the evil dragon.
Because of their ancestors, they had been driven there by humans and forced to remain in that place for generations.
Conditions in the Valley of Evil were poor, but the descendants had still managed to survive with grit and determination. They lived by their own labor, cut off from the outside world, and had no intention of reconnecting with it.
Yet when the hero fell into danger, those people still appeared. They joined forces with him, defeated the dragon's followers, and showed him the road forward.
The hero suggested that they could leave the Valley of Evil and return to the kingdom with him.
But they refused.
The village chief of the Valley of Evil said just one sentence, then led his wounded and fallen people back home.
"Prejudice in people's hearts is a mountain. No matter how hard you try, you'll never move it."
After all these years, those descendants were no longer the same people who had once followed the dragon. They had lived in that barren place, and over the years they had helped who knew how many people.
And in the end, they still could not be accepted.
The story ended there, with the hero watching their backs as they left, silently clenching his fists.
"Prejudice in people's hearts is a mountain..."
After reading it through once more, Jarvan III murmured the words to himself and lifted his eyes toward the window.
The night was so beautiful, yet beneath that beautiful night there lived no one knew how many villagers from the Valley of Evil.
He had tried to move that mountain before, but every time he raised his hand to push, the resistance had grown heavier.
His gaze slowly shifted to the wall, coming to rest on a painting.
Looking at the woman in the portrait, smiling at him so brightly, Jarvan III's expression softened.
"I believe what I'm doing is right."
His gaze gradually turned firm.
Over all these years, he had wavered more times than he could count, but he had never once given up.
The next day.
Luke had the distinct feeling that something heavy was pressing down on him so hard he could barely breathe.
The moment he opened his eyes, he saw that the duelist had draped half her body across him as if he were some kind of body pillow. One slender arm lay over his neck, and one long, smooth leg was bent and resting across his stomach.
Her head was pillowed on his shoulder, her warm breath brushing against his chin, and even in sleep, her face still carried a trace of exhaustion.
That was certainly one hell of a sleeping posture.
After all these days, it was Luke's first time seeing Fiora sleep like this.
Maybe he really had worn her out.
Then again, after a whole night like that, Luke had not exactly come out unscathed either.
The final result of that duel had, in truth, been mutual destruction.
He glanced outside. Dawn was only just beginning to break.
Then he stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, and when he felt his drowsiness starting to fade, he reached out and hauled the octopus clinging to him off his body.
Fiora slowly opened her eyes, still heavy with sleep. After one glance at Luke, she rolled over, stole the blanket along the way, and wrapped herself up tight.
Clearly, she had no intention of getting out of bed.
Just then, a gust of cold air slipped over him. Luke shivered at once and immediately sat up to get dressed.
Once he had changed, he rose, yawning as he stepped out of the room.
His legs felt so light and weak that he seemed to barely have the strength to walk.
By the time he made it downstairs, Yurna was already awake and feeding wood into the hearth. The fire had only just caught and was not very strong yet.
No wonder Luke had felt cold.
Still, the living room had already warmed somewhat from the fire, and he lay down on the sofa, planning to get a little more sleep.
But after closing his eyes, he found he was no longer sleepy.
So instead of forcing it, he got up and headed outside.
The morning air was fairly cold. It looked as though rain might come later, and everything was wrapped in a gray haze. The whole world was very quiet.
Luke rather liked mornings like this. Without meaning to, he found himself settling into a calm mood.
Having nothing better to do, he began practicing his Vitality Arts.
After going through one full set of movements, he had worked up a bit of sweat and his body had warmed noticeably, enough that the cold no longer bothered him as much.
Just then, a set of light footsteps approached from outside.
A moment later, the ever-energetic Miss Crownguard walked into the courtyard. When she saw Luke, she could not help saying, "You're up pretty early today."
"So are you," Luke replied casually.
"Don't compare yourself to me. I get up this early every day!"
Lux gave a huff, clearly refusing to be lumped in with him.
And that was true.
Lately, this little blonde's routine had been getting healthier and healthier. She got up early every morning and went straight to bed after heading home.
The reason was that she also had to go to the Church of the Illuminators in the mornings now, and she did not want sleeping late to get in the way.
To be fair, on that point alone, Miss Crownguard had real determination.
Lux then asked, "Where's Fiora?"
"Still asleep," Luke replied.
Lux clearly did not think too deeply about the meaning behind that answer. Hearing it, she looked rather smug. "Then that means I'm the first one here today!"
Luke gave her a strange look. "Why are you even competing over that?"
Lux huffed again, planted her hands on her hips, and grinned. "Because I'm going to be the biggest overachiever here!"
That genuinely surprised Luke. He had not expected such ambition to be hidden inside that tiny little frame of hers.
After thinking about it, he said, "Then you should thank me."
Lux immediately shot back, baffled, "What would I thank you for?"
"Without me, you'd never become the queen of overachievers."
Luke looked at her. If he were not holding back the real number-one grinder, then with this little blonde's current strength, her grand dream would be hard to achieve.
"Listen to you bragging like that."
Lux rolled her eyes at him and went straight inside.
By the time Luke finished his Vitality Arts and returned to the living room, he found Lux had dragged a small couch over close to the hearth and was sitting there, looking utterly comfortable as she ate a bowl of ice cream.
Ice cream had not disappeared from the market just because the seasons had changed.
Even now, it remained one of Lux's, and all the girls', favorite desserts.
Still, eating it this early in the morning clearly meant she had gone and snuck some again.
Luke glanced at her. "When your stomach starts hurting later, don't come looking for me."
"It absolutely won't!" Lux huffed, then scooped up another spoonful and popped it into her mouth, her eyes squinting shut in bliss.
And this morning, Miss Crownguard really did escape ice cream's vengeance.
But if she kept this up, that day would definitely come sooner or later.
Luke found himself looking forward to it.
As he prepared breakfast, Sona, Kahina, and the others arrived one after another, and the courtyard grew lively with the sounds of morning again.
Soon enough, the girls gathered in the back courtyard and began their usual morning training.
In the end, the noise was what woke Fiora. After changing clothes and coming downstairs, she found that Sona was the only one left in the living room.
When Sona saw her descend the stairs, she took one glance, thought of something, then flushed and quickly looked away.
In the kitchen, Luke was busy making breakfast when Yurna walked in and said, "Your Highness, someone from the palace came earlier. They said you're to go there after breakfast."
Luke nodded. "Got it."
Generally speaking, when the palace specifically sent someone to summon him, it was either because something had happened or because some kind of meeting was about to be held.
So after breakfast, Luke got straight into a carriage and headed for the palace.
Once he arrived, he first went to greet Jarvan III and Tianna.
Inside the office, Tianna said conversationally, "Was making that printing technology public your idea?"
"Yes." Luke nodded. "Do you have a problem with it, Aunt?"
"Not really." Tianna smiled. "It was a good decision. Technology only grows faster when it has competition."
She had already heard yesterday that the Royal City Bulletin had released the printing press blueprints.
Naturally, she also understood that sooner or later, a technology like that had been bound to become public.
At first, when this boy had first created the original printing press, Tianna had thought all he wanted was to make money.
But now, after all this time, she had suddenly realized that the boy had quietly done quite a lot.
The small talk continued until the meeting was about to begin.
Someone from the meeting hall came to interrupt Luke and Tianna's conversation.
The two walked side by side to the main chamber.
By the time they arrived, almost everyone was already there.
Once Tianna took her seat at the octagonal table, the meeting formally began.
The opening portion was, as usual, filled with the kind of material that made Luke want to doze off.
That was not to say it was all empty talk. It was just that, from Luke's personal perspective, it was rather boring.
After all, anything that made it to this meeting table was no small matter.
"Your Majesty, I have something to say regarding the Royal City Bulletin."
At that moment, Tourt slowly raised a hand and spoke.
Jarvan III looked toward him. "What is it?"
Luke, who had nearly drifted off again, also refocused and looked over.
Tourt took out a newspaper and set it on the octagonal table, turning it to the comic section. "I support this new comic format introduced by the Royal City Bulletin. However, the contents of this comic involve mages."
"The artist has portrayed a mage as an old-generation hero, someone who guides the protagonist. Though the character does not appear often, he does appear, and I believe this creates an unhealthy influence."
Inside the chamber, the ministers began murmuring among themselves as they listened to Tourt.
Quite a few people present had originally opposed the Royal City Bulletin.
But in reality, not a single issue had escaped their notice.
So naturally, they were all familiar with the contents of the comic in question.
Jarvan III withdrew his gaze from the paper and asked in return, "Can mages only ever appear in a negative role?"
"Of course," Tourt replied at once. "Since ancient times, mages have always been Demacia's enemies. Because of them, who knows how many of our citizens have suffered. For this comic to present a mage in a positive light, I believe the artist's intentions are questionable."
"As enemies we must defeat, we ought to remain firm in our stance at all times. Any content that stirs public sentiment in the wrong direction should be firmly opposed."
"I believe we should stamp out this sort of thing as early as possible."
"To a certain degree, this comic has even made the Mageseekers' work more difficult."
Tourt continued speaking until, at last, he turned to look at Eldred.
Hearing that, Eldred rose and looked toward Jarvan III. "I agree. I also believe that a public platform open to the entire nation should not be used to promote mages in this way."
And elsewhere in the chamber, many other ministers also began voicing their opinions in low discussion.
After one round of comments, there were indeed many voices opposed to this sort of comic.
At any time, mages were Demacia's enemies.
Content that weakened that stance should be firmly prohibited.
Those voices piled up layer by layer like resistance itself, making the neutral hesitant and causing the opposing voices to grow smaller and smaller.
"Even after all these years, your eyes still cannot tolerate even a grain of sand?"
Faced with all of those voices, Jarvan III suddenly smiled. "And yet they are not grains of sand. They are flesh and blood, just like us."
"Your Majesty, mages are not the same as us. Even if they are made of flesh and blood, the dangerous magic inside them can easily destroy everything."
Tourt's expression was grave.
"This is precisely what I intended to address in today's meeting."
Jarvan III spoke calmly. "Demacia has existed for nearly seven hundred years. Throughout all that time, we have steadfastly regarded mages as enemies. Yet for seven hundred years, when have those mages ever truly disappeared?"
"Have none of you realized that mages cannot be fully driven out or fully captured? They live on this same land with us. They face life just as we do."
"At this point, I believe we should seek a different way to coexist with them."
The moment those words fell, at least half the ministers present changed expression.
"Your Majesty must not make such a decision!"
Tourt immediately spoke up, remaining firm in his position. "The fact that mages cannot be fully driven out or arrested only proves that they are vermin that can never be eradicated. And for that very reason, for the safety of Demacia's countless people, our stance must never waver!"
At that point, another noble representative, Josie, stood up as well. "I support Tourt's view. Mages must always remain our enemies. We must remember the teachings of our ancestors and never permit ourselves any soft-heartedness toward them."
The legal representative Giovanni also spoke. "Your Majesty, this is a decision that should be considered very carefully."
And outside the octagonal table, another minister added, "If we change our stance, then we are yielding to mages. We are showing weakness. Sooner or later, these people who wield such terrifying power will bring disaster to Demacia."
"I agree!"
"Your Majesty, please reconsider!"
"We absolutely must not yield to mages!"
As more and more voices rose around the room, the one person who ought to have spoken most strongly against the idea, Mageseeker representative Eldred, merely sat there in silence.
The moment mages were brought up, everyone seemed to discover exactly where they stood.
There were some who remained neutral, but very few.
There were some who supported Jarvan III, but very few of those as well.
All the rest were opposed.
This was the deep resistance before him, the mountain that could not easily be moved.
Over the years, Jarvan III had tried more than once to improve the conditions under which Demacia's mages lived.
Yet every time, the resistance he encountered had left him with a deep sense of helplessness.
And in the end, the one who always yielded had been him.
But this time, Jarvan III had no intention of yielding again.
His gaze, calm as still water, swept across the entire room. The quiet authority radiating from him made the chamber fall instantly silent.
"I think the ones who need to think carefully are all of you. Demacia needs a better future, and a better future begins with change."
Jarvan III's voice sank lower. "After all these years, has the greater harm truly come from mages to us, or from us to mages? I want all of you to think about that carefully."
The chamber fell silent.
At that moment, Tourt continued, "Your Majesty, according to the ancestral laws of our forebears, matters concerning mages should be decided by vote."
Those ancestral laws were a difficulty Jarvan III could never avoid.
Listening to Tourt's words, Luke fell into thought as well, remembering that rule.
When Demacia had first been founded, it had been for the sake of fleeing terrible magic.
And after the kingdom was established, as its laws gradually took shape and mages kept appearing again and again, the founders created a rule.
That rule was that decisions on how to deal with mages were to be made through a collective voting system.
And what did that mean?
It meant that power in such matters was to be concentrated in the body of ministers, and once more than half voted one way, the rest were required to obey the side with the greater number of votes.
As king of the nation, Jarvan III could decide many things himself.
But on the matter of mages, he could not ignore the consequences of forcing the issue through by himself.
There was no need to push this matter all the way to the bitter end just yet. Jarvan III let his gaze travel across the room and said, "That will be all for today. Dismissed."
There was no need to hold a vote at all, because from the state of the room alone, the result was already obvious.
This time, Jarvan III had merely wanted to test their attitude.
At the very least, he needed to make that clear in his own mind first.
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