Three days passed in the blink of an eye.
July 1—supposedly a lucky day for making wishes and hitting the road.
With the calendar rolling into July, the morning sunlight had softened a lot, and the temperature wasn't nearly as harsh.
In the capital that morning, the streets were packed and lively.
And the hottest topic on everyone's lips was the newspaper that had been making waves lately.
"Hey, did you hear? Tomorrow's the first day the paper goes on sale."
"I heard. I also heard there's a short story written personally by the second prince."
"And I heard tomorrow's issue is going to feature a big-name hot topic figure as the main story."
"You didn't pre-order? If you pre-order in advance, they'll have someone deliver it right to your door."
"You can pre-order?"
"Of course. Tomorrow morning I won't even have to step outside—I'll be reading the paper at home."
"…."
With Lady Crownguard spending the last few days giving speeches all over the capital, word about the Royal City Bulletin spread like wildfire—one person telling ten, ten telling a hundred.
By now, it was hard to find anyone who didn't know about it.
And naturally, people in the capital found this kind of publicity incredibly novel. They were full of anticipation for a brand-new way to get information.
Most importantly, it wasn't as expensive as everyone had expected.
One paper cost only two copper coins. And if you paid two more each day, someone would deliver the paper straight to your doorstep.
How thorough. How considerate.
Even though there was still a day to go, people were already looking forward to tomorrow.
At the Crownguard estate—
Luke sat in the living room, smiling casually at the man sitting across from him with perfect posture.
"Garen, you've heard what the capital's been saying about this newspaper lately, right?"
Garen was Jarvan IV's close friend. He was four years older than Luke, so calling him casually like this wasn't a big deal.
Still, hearing the odd way Luke addressed him, Garen's mouth twitched slightly. He nodded with a steady expression. "I've heard."
How could he not? His own sister had been promoting it all over the city—who hadn't heard by now?
Luke took a sip of tea and kept smiling. "Then do you know who founded the paper?"
Garen couldn't stand the circling anymore. "Your Highness, just say what you want to say."
He didn't believe his sister had the brainpower to create something that had the entire city buzzing like this.
And with a few overheard conversations, plus the prince's behavior today, if Garen still couldn't guess the truth, he might as well slam his head into a wall.
He just didn't know what Luke was aiming for, dragging the conversation around like this.
So Luke went straight to it. "I'm planning to make you the featured figure of the first issue. I want to know whether you're willing."
"You're a rising star of the Dauntless Vanguard in the capital right now—there's a lot people want to talk about. I'm planning to publish some of your growth and background in the paper."
Garen paused, slightly surprised. After a second of thought, he answered in a low, firm voice, "If Your Highness needs it, I'm willing to do what little I can."
"That's perfect!" Luke grinned. "Then it's settled."
The man in front of him—handsome in a sharp, rugged way, calm and mature beyond his years—was an ideal choice for the first issue's spotlight.
Luke had decided it long before the printing press was even finished.
Garen had entered the Dauntless Vanguard while still young, purely on his own strength.
And what did the Dauntless Vanguard represent?
Demacia's strongest legion—wherever they went, enemies trembled at the name.
It was also Demacia's hardest unit to qualify for.
But Garen had shattered every assessment record during selection, proving his ability beyond any doubt.
Back then, he'd been the same age Luke was.
And now, he was already a captain in the Dauntless Vanguard.
His achievements weren't just because of House Crownguard. More than anything, they came from his own talent and relentless work.
These days, when people thought of Garen, the first thing that came to mind was his strength—not the name Crownguard behind him.
That was the result of his effort.
So whether it was fame or hype, Garen had it all.
Luke interviewed Garen with a few questions. Once he had all his answers, he stood to leave.
But after taking a few steps, he stopped. Turning back, he gave Garen a warm, harmless smile.
"You wouldn't mind if I… flesh out your 'public image' a little in your growth story, would you?"
Garen didn't think much of it. A smile appeared on his resolute face. "Do as you see fit, Your Highness."
After their talk, he understood what the newspaper was—essentially a way to publicize him, to help Demacia's citizens know him better.
But Garen had never cared about reputation. No matter how others saw him, his resolve to defend the nation would never change.
So he left it to Luke.
From these brief interactions, he'd formed a fairly good impression of the prince.
Luke was easy to get along with. When he smiled, he showed bright white teeth, and his clear eyes looked gentle and warm—he seemed like a good person.
Garen simply didn't know that this opinion would be completely destroyed within the next day.
Luke kept that kind smile. "Good. Then I'm relieved. I wish you a pleasant day. Farewell."
After saying goodbye, Luke left the Crownguard estate under Garen's gaze.
Outside, Lux was leaning against the wall, waiting with boredom written all over her.
When she saw Luke come out, she asked, "How'd it go?"
"He agreed," Luke said, already walking toward the carriage.
Lux fell into step beside him. "So where to next?"
Luke thought for a moment as he climbed in, then said to Yurna, "To the palace."
"Yes, Your Highness," Yurna replied.
Once Lux climbed in as well, Yurna started the carriage and they headed toward the palace.
After a while, they arrived at the base of the palace grounds.
The two of them got out and went inside, walking straight through until they reached Jarvan III.
"Father," Luke said, bowing slightly.
Lux greeted him with a bright smile. "Uncle Jarvan, good morning!"
Seeing them, Jarvan III's face softened into a kindly smile. "What brings you here?"
Lately, he'd often heard about Luke from Tianna.
Thinking of how Luke had moved out of the palace barely over a month ago—and yet had already accomplished so much—Jarvan III felt intensely proud.
At first, he'd thought Tianna's decision was too rushed.
But now, it was clear she'd been right.
Letting his youngest son roam free was the correct choice.
Recently, he'd also heard the Crownguard girl got along very well with Luke.
That was a good thing.
Jarvan III had watched Lux grow up. He'd always been extremely pleased with her—at one point he'd even considered making her his goddaughter.
It never happened, but over the years he'd still treated her no differently than a daughter.
Looking at the two young people in front of him now, Jarvan III's eyes were gentle.
Luke spoke up. "You still remember the newspaper matter I mentioned when I came to you recently, right?"
Jarvan III nodded with a smile. "I do. It goes on sale tomorrow, doesn't it?"
"Yes," Luke said. "I'd like to ask you to give a brief comment for the first issue."
"My comment…" Jarvan III considered for two seconds. "I believe newspapers are part of a new tide of the times. I hope people will treat them with greater importance."
Setting Luke aside, that truly was his honest view.
A new model that could change the very way information traveled—its significance was immense.
Even the entire government now had to rely on Luke's printing press.
Thank goodness this talent belonged to his own son.
The thought made Jarvan III grin wider.
Thirty minutes later—
"Then, Father, I'll be going," Luke said.
"Goodbye, Uncle Jarvan!" Lux added.
"Mhm. Take your time on the way," Jarvan III said.
He watched them leave, smiled, then lowered his head and returned to his work.
After leaving the palace, Luke and Lux got back into the carriage and headed to their next stop.
This time, their destination was Jarvan IV's residence.
The carriage rolled for a while before stopping in front of a fortress.
It was much smaller than the palace, but it was still more than ten times the size of Luke's home.
Jarvan IV lived here—and trained himself and his personal guard here as well.
Now that Luke was an adult, he could also go to the army and pick a group of personal guards of his own.
But he'd always been too lazy.
Once chosen, those guards would follow him out of the army. Wherever Luke went, they'd go.
Too much hassle—and Luke hated hassle.
So he'd decided he'd deal with it whenever he actually felt like it.
The two of them stepped down from the carriage. A few soldiers who had already noticed it approached.
One of them bowed. "Second Prince. Lady Crownguard."
Luke glanced at him. "Go tell my brother I'm here to see him."
"Yes!" the soldier answered, then turned and sprinted through the gate.
"Second Prince, Lady Crownguard, please come in," another guard at the entrance said, guiding them inside.
They followed him into the fortress. Luke looked around as they walked.
Even here, he could hear the blood-hot shouts of men training on the drill grounds.
They passed through a corridor and reached an open area.
In the distance, Luke spotted Jarvan IV in training clothes, striding toward them.
From far away, Jarvan IV's face had already broken into a smile that came straight from the heart.
Luke hadn't seen him in a long time, and a surge of excitement hit him. He quickened his pace.
They walked toward each other, and halfway there both threw their arms wide like they were about to hug.
"Brother!!"
"Little brother!!"
"Brother!!!"
"Little brother!!!"
"Lend me some money!!!"
"Farewell!!!"
Jarvan IV slammed on the brakes mid-walk, spun around without hesitation, and started leaving.
Luke hurried after him. "I'm kidding! I'm kidding!"
Only then did Jarvan IV stop. He turned back, exhaling in relief like he'd just survived a disaster. "Little brother, don't joke like that next time."
Luke stepped forward, grabbed Jarvan IV's arm, and put on a pitiful look. "Actually… it wasn't a joke. I really am here to borrow money."
Jarvan IV's expression froze. He looked down at Luke's iron grip on his arm, sighed, then wiped at imaginary tears.
"If there's anything in this fortress you want, just take it."
Last time they met, his little stash had been completely cleaned out. What money did he have left?
But then another thought followed: even if he had to suffer, he couldn't let his brother suffer.
If he sold some things in the fortress, he could probably scrape together a little.
Luke looked around.
Honestly, there didn't seem to be much in here worth selling.
His brother really was pitiful—living such a hard life.
Luke released his arm and smiled. "Alright, no more joking. Last time I took a bit of money from you. This time I'm here to pay you back—double."
Jarvan IV blinked. "Truly?"
Luke directly pulled out two money pouches and placed them into Jarvan IV's hands.
Jarvan IV weighed them twice. The crisp, bright clatter of coins inside made his eyes turn emotional when he looked at Luke.
"Little brother… why go through the trouble? Your brother doesn't lack this money."
"Then give it back to me."
"…."
Jarvan IV calmly slipped the two pouches into his own pocket with dignified grace, then looked confused. "Huh? What did you say just now?"
"Give—"
"Stop!" Jarvan IV raised a hand solemnly, cutting Luke off. "We haven't seen each other in ages, and it's your first time here. Let your brother show you around."
With that, he warmly latched onto Luke's arm and started touring him through the fortress.
And along the way, Luke gradually abandoned his original thought of giving Jarvan IV a thousand gold coins as extra support.
A man with money tended to go bad. His brother was growing strong in this hard environment—working, training, staying diligent.
If Luke gave him money and Jarvan IV immediately turned into the same kind of laid-back slacker as Luke, what then?
That absolutely could not happen.
The harder Jarvan IV's life was, the more he worked, the more diligent he stayed—
the more Luke could laze around with a clear conscience.
If Jarvan IV started slacking off, and Luke also slacked off, then who would carry Demacia's future?
So yes.
His brother's hardship was Luke's happiness.
"This is where I usually handle my work," Jarvan IV said, stopping at a door and pushing it open.
Inside was only a wooden bookshelf and a plain, simple desk.
Stacks of documents were piled on the desk.
Jarvan IV already held a post in the army now, and he handled various matters on a regular basis.
Luke scanned the bare room and couldn't help admiring his brother even more.
The royal family's conditions weren't bad at all. But after leaving the palace, Jarvan IV had insisted on living independently.
Before adulthood, he'd enjoyed the highest royal treatment—food, clothing, housing, travel, everything.
But once he came of age, he moved out of the palace without hesitation and chose this kind of life.
If he wanted, even now, he could get his old life back with a single word.
But Jarvan IV had never once asked.
"By the way," Jarvan IV said as he walked into the room, seeming to sense Luke had another purpose. "Is there something else you came for?"
Luke followed him in. "There is."
As he spoke, he glanced back at Lux, who was about to follow.
Lux looked at him, confused. "What?"
Luke smiled. "This next part is private brother-to-brother conversation. Unrelated personnel, please avoid."
Lux pouted. "What private conversation could you two possibly have? Let me listen too."
Luke kept smiling. "Door. Left."
"Hmph. Fine. Keep your secrets," Lux said, turning away and strolling off to the right.
With a soft click, Luke closed the door.
Still smiling, he looked at Jarvan IV. "It's not a big deal. I came to ask you about Garen."
Jarvan IV and Garen had known each other since childhood in the army. They were as close as brothers—real ironclad friends.
Hearing Luke wanted to ask about Garen, Jarvan IV perked up with interest. "Sure. I know way too much about that guy."
"Then—"
Luke started from the beginning.
To flesh out someone's image properly, you needed a lot of background.
And as Jarvan IV said, there probably wasn't anyone who knew Garen better than he did.
When Jarvan IV learned Luke planned to feature Garen as tomorrow's headline figure, he had endless stories to tell.
Garen wasn't that old, but the things he'd lived through were enough to fill an entire book.
So for the next stretch of time, Jarvan IV talked nonstop.
Luke listened carefully.
Only when Jarvan IV's mouth went dry did he finally stop and ask, "That should be enough, right? Can your paper even fit that much?"
"It can't," Luke replied, frowning slightly. "And not everything needs to go in. I'll just pick the best parts."
Then he added, carefully, "It's just that… all these stories are a bit too spotless. They're missing some realism."
Even though he phrased it gently, Jarvan IV understood immediately.
"Oh, I get it," Jarvan IV said, realization dawning. "You want some of Garen's little secrets—things people don't know."
Luke smiled and nodded. "I'm sure you know plenty."
"Plenty," Jarvan IV said, puffing out his chest. "I even know the guy's got a mole on his butt."
Luke's eyes gleamed with expectation.
Jarvan IV's expression turned righteous as he refused on the spot. "But if you think you're getting those secrets out of my mouth, that's basically impossible."
"Garen and I have been closer than blood since we were kids. We've been through life and death together more times than I can count. Calling him my brother wouldn't be wrong at all. So there is absolutely no way I'm betraying him!"
Luke spoke calmly. "Two hundred gold."
Jarvan IV froze, then clenched his resolve. "I don't know what you're talking about. He's my beloved friend, my brother in arms!"
"Two hundred fifty gold."
"Back then, he took a fatal arrow for me. He still has the scar on his shoulder."
"Three hundred gold."
"Our bond—"
"Five hundred gold."
"…Which story would you like to hear first?"
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