Fiora hadn't lied.
She really had suppressed her strength, keeping herself as close as possible to Luke's level.
Even so, it was still a challenge for her.
After all, it wasn't easy to take power you'd honed through countless battles and force it back down to a stage you'd already left behind.
But it wasn't a big problem. Fiora liked challenges.
Luke thought that if they were truly on equal footing, he wouldn't necessarily lose.
Facing Fiora's assault, he pushed his Wind-Control Swordsmanship as far as he possibly could.
From the crowd's perspective below the ring, the two of them were using entirely different styles—yet neither seed inferior. Attack and defense wove together on both sides, blades colliding again and again in a dizzying, brilliant exchange that left people's eyes struggling to keep up.
"Didn't expect this. That newcor is actually trading blows with Fiora."
"To fight her to this extent, the rookie's already incredible."
"That sword style really is sothing… but don't forget Fiora is suppressing her strength."
"True. Holding herself back definitely affects her offense to a degree."
"Man, I really want to see them fight when they're actually equal."
The audience buzzed with excitent.
Below the ring, Bear Mask stared at Luke and raised a hand to wipe sweat from his mask—despite the fact there wasn't any.
Seriously… this rookie is that strong?
Back when he fought him earlier, Luke clearly hadn't gone all-out!
Thinking about it carefully, back when Fiora had first entered the training camp, he'd also been blind enough to try and "teach her a lesson."
And then he'd been hung up and beaten senseless.
Up on the platform, Luke could feel his stamina draining faster and faster. He could practically feel the sweat soaking his face beneath the mask, and even gathering the wind around him was starting to take real effort.
Then, right at that mont, Fiora's offense suddenly stopped.
Luke, puzzled, halted his blade mid-swing and asked, "What's wrong?"
"Your swordsmanship is very good."
Fiora rarely praised anyone's technique, but Luke truly qualified. Then she continued, "There's no aning in continuing like this. I win by sheer endurance—while you're already running low. Even if I win in the end, it would be an ugly victory. This ti, let's call it a draw."
Their strength had never been equal to begin with. In the short term, she simply couldn't run out of stamina.
But Luke was only a late-stage trainee. Under the pressure of her suppression, he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer.
"Then doesn't that an I'm the one getting the better deal?" Luke grinned.
"Train your blade well. When you've fully mastered this style, I'll fight you again."
Her voice remained cool and distant.
She could tell: what Luke was using right now was only the beginning.
This sword style had far more potential than what it currently showed.
In the future, he could beco much stronger.
Her sharp duelist's intuition made her certain of it.
After speaking, she gave a light hop down from the ring and said, "Bunny, transfer him three hundred points."
"Are you sure you want to do that?" the bunny-uniford attendant asked.
"I'm sure."
After Fiora nodded, she left without looking back, leaving only a lone, arrogant silhouette—difficult to approach, and even harder to draw close to.
"Three hundred points?!"
"As expected of Fiora—so generous!"
"I'm insanely jealous."
"Jealous 1."
Luke watched Fiora's retreating back and asked curiously, "What can points be used for?"
"Points? Oh, there's a lot you can do with those," a helpful spectator answered. "You can rent a private training room in this camp, or buy food, drinks—services too. You can even exchange points for cash. The rate is five to one."
Luke did the math.
Three hundred points… that was sixty gold coins?
That wasn't a small amount at all.
No wonder Bear Mask had looked so shocked earlier—beating him in a match was basically winning six gold coins in one go.
Luke and Fiora weren't close at all. And yet just because Luke had shown this Wind-Control Swordsmanship, she'd rewarded him with three hundred points?
Thinking about it that way… Fiora really was generous.
Was this what a big shot's kindness to a newbie looked like?
The swordsmanship training camp really was interesting. Luke, having spent a fair bit of energy, rested inside for a while and watched a few other matches.
After resting for about long enough, he got up and left.
If he had the chance later, he'd co back to play around so more.
But for today, he still had other things to do.
Leaving the alley, Luke wasn't worried about anyone recognizing him. He simply took off the mask.
Next, he was going to see Miss Crownguard.
As he walked, Luke suddenly thought—
If he was going to thank Miss Crownguard, was it really appropriate to show up empty-handed?
And that led to a new problem: what gift should he bring?
Just as he was thinking that, his gaze landed on a cake shop along the street.
He walked up to the storefront and saw all kinds of cakes displayed inside.
Given Demacia's feudal atmosphere, a scene like this shouldn't really exist.
But in reality, Demacia was only semi-isolated. Local rchants still did business with outsiders, so so foreign things still found their way into the country and beca localized over ti.
From the background stories alone, you could tell that Lady Lestara Buvelle—of Demacia's greatest rchant house—had once traveled all across Runeterra and brought back many useful things.
During the cold war between Demacia and Noxus, she had even taken her daughter, Sona, to perform in many places.
Cake was one of those imported products—originally brought in from Piltover.
Then Luke saw the price tags under the cakes.
Five silver coins… for a slice?
That expensive?!
He patted his pocket. If he'd known, he would've exchanged so points for money back at the training camp.
Luke thought for a mont, then turned and looked around. After confirming a spot, he walked over—
and stopped in front of a mannequin statue.
"Give another gold coin."
From behind the statue, a white-clad bodyguard—perfectly aligned with the statue's pose—slowly stepped out and stared at Luke seriously. "Your Highness… are you sure you found by luck?"
"It's you again." Luke hadn't expected it to be this perfect of a coincidence—three tis in a row, finding the sa guy.
The white-clad bodyguard practically wanted to cry. He wanted to ask the sa thing—why him again? There were so many guards following along to protect His Highness. Why was it always him who got found every ti?
He was starting to suspect his hiding technique was just terrible, and that was why he kept getting caught.
"Ahem. It really was luck." Luke took the gold coin the guard handed him, then patted his shoulder in consolation.
"…"
The bodyguard said nothing, but his eyes had changed in that instant.
He didn't believe Luke anymore.
Yeah right. Your Highness is absolutely lying to .
What kind of "luck" finds the sa person three tis in a row?!
It's not luck—my stealth is just too weak!
Clenching his fist in silence, the white-clad bodyguard swore that once he got back, he would train his stealth technique in secret!
Until he reached mastery, he would not leave the mountain again!
Many years later, Runeterra would see the rise of a terrifying infiltrator—one whose victims never even knew where he was when they died…
But that was a story for another ti.
For now, Luke walked into the cake shop, the image of Miss Crownguard's face flashing through his mind.
He had no doubts: the gift he'd chosen was absolutely the right one.
No matter how you looked at it, she was the type to be easily won over by sothing like this.
Still, Luke himself also liked sweets. He looked around the shop for a bit, then chose two strawberry cakes—his favorites.
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