Family Business 59 (Patreon)

Family Business

Chapter 59

-VB-

Life was supposed to return to normal.

When I returned home after another visit to the royal capital, I misunderstood one passing woman’s intent, for which I apologized with a letter and monetary compensation. Sure, that’s cold comfort for someone who’s been in a jail cell, but it was the least I could do. The majority of my peers might not think so; even Lux had been confused as to why I was offering compensation.

“It has to be Fiddlesticks…” I muttered to myself while looking over reports from the western provinces. The Freljord Marches, the domain of the Marquis Bronzemoon, was under an insidious attack, but this was one that I could not solve, despite the fact that reports were being handed to me, my academy, and the ministry.

The reason?

Fiddlesticks.

Despite the fact that he looked like a simple possessed scarecrow in the game, he was anything but. He was the First Demon. Sadistic, powerful, and unreasonable. He was not like Tahm Kench or Evelynn. No, if I went half-cocked into this, then I would die. If I went fully prepared, then I would still die.

There was no winning against Fiddlesticks. He was closer to a fact of reality, a curse scrawled into the fabric of existence.

So what was I to do? I got this report because people expected me to be able to take care of this problem. Except this was not a problem but an unstoppable catastrophe. All I could do was manage the issue. It did not, however, change the people’s expectations about what I was supposed to do, and I didn’t make it easier on myself by lauding my achievements of the past year.

This … was going to be a problem.

One way or another, I would lose.

Fuck.

… Actually, I might have a way. I mean… there was no guarantee that he would win, but he was also the one who was the least likely to die in the entire kingdom. The only other person who might even be close to him was … well, he was the crown prince. I wasn’t in the habit of putting the crown prince in line of duty.

(Unless, maybe, possibly, I’m trying to get them killed when I might be advancing a scheme in the distant future?)

-VB-

Garen looked down at the letter he’d just received from his brother.

It was his little brother’s first call for help, something he’d expected to receive at least a year ago when he first set out to be on his own.

This was good!

Marris was depending on him when he knew he couldn’t solve his own problem. Garen would be sure to tell thor parents about this.

… But the reason for help was very ominous; Marris needed help against a new demon. He was not unfamiliar with them. After all, a demon did prey upon the people of Demacia often: Evelynn, the Demon of Agony.

Something like that thing was now roaming across the Freljord Marches, and according to Marris, it was stronger than Evelynn, which was known to overpower a dozen fully armored and armed elite soldiers by itself. In the letter, Marris told him that he was maybe one of four people in all of the kingdom who could take down the beast, or at least temporarily drive it away.

Of course, the letter explained that if he could not help, then he would have no choice but to ask the Noxians for help.

The goddamn Noxians.

Garen knew that Marris had little to no personal feelings about their rivals to the East. Why would he care? Marris had never been on the battlefield. Never had a friend die to Noxian magic or blade.

… it made Garen wonder if the situation was serious enough for his little brother to say something so inflammatory, knowing that it would spur him on, maybe reject him on sheer principle.

Was that what he was going for …?

Ugh. Having a little brother who could run circles around you with words was horrible. They would always find something to make him act like he wanted. It wasn’t … too terrible. At least with Marr, Garen knew that he wouldn’t act selfishly or recklessly.

He decided.

He was going to go see Marr, but he needed permission from the commander of the Dauntless Vanguard.