"Ionia is in trouble, Duke!"
The moment Camille appeared on screen, she cut straight to the point. Duke scratched his chin, utterly unimpressed.
"No matter what happens to Ionia, it doesn't have much to do with me. I already have more than enough problems on my plate."
With a long sigh, Duke leaned back into his massage chair again, rubbing at his temples as he muttered, "And if I remember correctly, didn't we stop doing business with Ionia for a while?"
"As the First Lands, Ionia produces materials you can't find anywhere else. After Gangplank robbed our merchant fleet, I considered the long-term situation. Instead of cutting our trade routes, I strengthened our ties with them."
Camille was as decisive as ever—every word sharp and precise.
"If we give up the entire game because of a single setback, then next time? More jackals will smell weakness and pounce on us!"
"We cannot show even a hint of softness."
"I get the logic, but I'm really tied up right now. I can't just walk away."
Duke spread his hands helplessly. He truly had mountains of issues waiting for him to resolve.
Forget the distant ones—just the ones right in front of him:
A tribe, and a warband, both waiting for him to manage. Pride and Rage weren't going to stay out there forever. Eventually everything would fall back onto his shoulders.
"I can tell you're troubled," Camille said gently.
She shifted the communicator aside and calmly picked up a kettle to boil water. Her movements were natural, serene, each gesture filled with effortless grace and aristocratic poise.
"Tell me about it."
"Aren't you here to talk about Ionia?" Duke raised an eyebrow, staring at her on the screen. "Why are we suddenly talking about my problems?"
"Darling." Camille placed the kettle on the stove, turning on the heat. Her lips curved faintly, her voice soft with unspoken warmth. "There is always time for tea."
Seeing that expression on her face, Duke finally let out a long, heavy exhale. "Things have been insane lately."
"I'm listening."
"Pride and Rage… you know what happened when we got separated earlier."
"Mhm. Did something happen to them?"
Camille lifted a brow slightly, placing tea leaves into her favorite teapot while waiting for the water to boil.
"Rage built a tribe and is serving as their totem god. Pride gathered a warband and has been hunting down sand bandits—basically using them for combat training."
"Well… that is surprising."
Camille covered her mouth, laughing lightly. Duke only shook his head helplessly. "I'm not surprised—just exhausted. Because ultimately, the responsibility will land on me."
"So you're struggling with what to do with all those people?"
"Partially."
Duke scratched the back of his head, then looked at Camille. "Shurima's ancient emperor rising again—it's real. And Zaun used to be a Shuriman port city. You know exactly what that implies."
"Of course. That's why you're there."
Camille knew the situation. Only she and Duke did. Duke took out a cigar and trimmed it slowly with a cutter. "You're not wrong."
"But as more things pile up, everything's becoming a headache. I mean, there is a sequence to follow—I can solve each problem one at a time."
"And then I bring bad news, so you get irritated." Camille chuckled softly. "Darling, you always complicate simple things."
"That's just the nature of a scientist—but you shouldn't try to shoulder everything alone."
She lifted the kettle and poured hot water into the teapot. A thin stream fell elegantly, steam rising from the spout. Duke only needed a glance to imagine the aroma as the leaves awakened in the heat.
"This is your one flaw, Duke."
Camille closed the kettle and said without lifting her head, "I don't know what's causing your sense of urgency—but haven't you noticed how anxious you've become? Hidden beneath the surface?"
"Really?"
"The Seven Deadly Sins." Camille looked up at him, eyes full of perceptiveness. "I understand a scientist's desire to perfect his creations. But the Original Sins are terrifying weapons."
"Nation-destroying weapons. And you still have four left to create."
"What are you wary of? What are you preparing for? What is it you don't want to say?"
Duke looked away, giving an awkward laugh. "Is that so?"
"You don't have to tell me. Just remember—you still have us behind you, darling."
Camille lifted her cup for a light sip. After exhaling a fragrant breath, she continued, "As for the people Pride and Rage gathered—Ferros can help you handle them."
"They can become a nail we drive into Shurima."
"The tribe—Ferros will fund them and help them transform into a roaming merchant clan. As for the warband—we can selectively recruit. The promising ones enter spy training. The average ones—we'll train them lightly and send them to Ixtal as a guard division."
"Don't forget, Duke—you have Ferros. You have us. You have many people at your back."
"Stop carrying everything alone."
Camille watched him quietly through the light screen, her gaze softening.
"Remember what Esilia once said?"
"For my family, I will give everything."
Duke spoke softly. Camille nodded, her voice honest and warm. "For you, we would give everything."
"Duke, you've already become irreplaceable to Ferros. You stabilized Zaun. Conquered Bilgewater. Expanded into Ixtal. Formed an alliance with Demacia."
"The people standing behind you are always more than you think."
"So don't try to handle all of it yourself. You have us."
"I know." Duke looked at the ruined cigar in his hand, tossed it aside, then placed a cigarette between his lips instead.
"We'll handle Rage's tribe and Pride's warband your way. I'll send Tahm to pick them up and arrange everything."
"And the Shurima situation—don't worry."
"I know exactly what I'm doing."
He flicked a small flame from his fingers, lighting the cigarette. After a deep breath, he slowly exhaled pale smoke.
"Now… let's talk about Ionia."
He flicked the ash away, grabbed the flask Idith had returned to him, took a long swig, and exhaled lightly. "What happened over there?"
"I heard Noxus has already started sending troops."
"Yes. Their ambition toward Ionia has always been obvious. For years they've been testing the borders, moving their forces step by step, trying to absorb Ionia into their territory."
"And then?"
Duke stared at Camille. "What happened that made you contact me while I'm on a mission?"
"Our long-standing ally in Ionia—an entire family—was massacred. Only one young daughter survived."
"That's… cruel. Though not surprising." Duke raised a brow. Noxians did horrific things on a daily basis. Especially now, with Darkwill and Swain locked in internal conflict—some officers were rushing toward Ionia hoping to earn military merit and secure their future.
Taliyah herself had once been tricked to Ionia for the same reason—some Noxian officer wanted to weaponize her.
"That family belonged to Ionia's traditional dancer lineage. They held high status in Presidian, and they preserved Ionia's ceremonial dance traditions. Their influence extended across multiple fields. Thanks to our deliberate relationship building, we've been allies for over a decade."
"Many of our supply routes were established through their recommendations. Without them, we could never have established such a solid foothold in Ionia."
"So what's your plan?"
"I already sent spies to locate the surviving daughter. The goal is to bring her to Piltover, wait until Ionia stabilizes, then send her back and support her in rebuilding her family."
"Sounds reasonable."
Duke approved. Cruel for the girl, yes—but this was reality.
"Then just—"
"But the girl has disappeared."
Camille poured more hot water. Duke rolled his eyes. "So you want me to find her?"
"No. Our spies already found her. But her situation is… different from what we expected."
"How different?"
Duke tapped his cigarette, waiting.
Camille ran her fingers over the teacup, inhaling the steam. Then she spoke softly:
"She's formed a resistance force. She intends to fight Noxus."
"And she wants our support."
"…Wait." Duke's eyelid twitched. Why did this sound so familiar?
"That family you mentioned… it's not the Zang family, is it?"
Camille paused, surprised that he knew. Then she nodded. "Yes. The Zang family."
"But only the youngest daughter—Irelia—survived."
Duke blinked. Internally, a stampede of a thousand wild horses trampled through his mind.
No wonder it sounded familiar.
It was the Blade Dancer — Irelia.
So according to Camille…
Her entire family's dead…
She's joined the resistance…
And is fighting Noxus?
Yeah. That tracks.
Irelia. Forever cursed by the narrative.
Some things never change.
End of chapter....
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