Nemobrosus
patreon
Redemption Arc 3
🕑 Added 2025-10-07 06:53:52 +0000 UTCLucian exited his apartment in Verne. After pulling at his ostentatious deep purple outfit bearing the house colors of Villamar, he cast one glance back at Walter.
“I’ll ensure that the room is cleaned by the time you return, Lord Lucian,” Walter promised. “Just focus on registering for the Collegium. Perhaps you can make some friends?” His words were clearly skeptical. “Or… at the very least, settle some enmities. Whatever the case, good luck.”
Lucian turned his back to the door as it shut behind him. He looked around the area. He felt like a person dropped in the middle of a foreign country. It was even worse than that: he was in a country with a lot of people that knew him, and hated him. His father—his real father, not Duke Cyril Villamar—always told him, ‘if you can be rich and famous or just plain rich, choose rich.’
His problems were worse. Lucian Villamar was formerly rich, and extremely infamous.
Lucian’s father, Duke Cyril Villamar, had just cut him off the family’s funds to attempt to reform his behavior before it was too late. The only thing he had was protection from reckless killing.
And his protection even that isn’t certain. It isn’t like I have a guard, Lucian reflected.
He set off walking into a city, trying to orient himself. He’d spent a lot of time in this place and knew it pretty well. Despite circumstances, he couldn’t help but be struck by the beauty of the city in his new reality. What it lacked in vegetation it made up for in grandiose architecture, fountains, monuments, and picturesque canals with sapphire-blue waters. Verne was like a Roman Amsterdam. As Lucian walked toward his destination, he pondered this place.
Verne was an independent city state that remained perpetually neutral, and was thus the meeting point for the diplomats of the four great powers. The Empire of Riverra, the Kingdom of Vantz, the Confederation of the Veen, and the Republic of New Riverra had designated Verne a neutral zone by treaty. Its purpose was to ensure peace between the four great powers by settling diplomatic disputes in the Concord of Verne, and educating the next generation in the Collegium of Verne.
It’s a pretty typical Academy-esque setting.
Naturally, all kinds of things were going to happen to disrupt the peaceful school life that many were expecting. Although… most people probably weren’t expecting a peaceful life. This place was created to train the next generation how to defend from frequent monster raids, banditry, and all the like. Combat was expected.
As Lucian walked, he figured out where he was. I’m in the Riverran Canton, Lucian recognized. Then… yeah, I’ll go this way.
He came to a stop where people were supposed to wait for gondolas, waiting for an empty one to come past. One did, eventually, its gondolier gently steering the boat to align itself parallel to the canal’s walls. Lucian felt a little uneasy stepping onto it, but the gondolier kept it from rocking by holding his oar against the canal.
The gondolier wore a peculiar iron helmet with a bowl atop it, and stayed totally silent while staring at Lucian. These were public servants employed by Verne.
“I’d like to go to the Fourth Canton,” he said.
The gondolier raised his finger and snapped. The flame in the iron lantern dangling from the front of the gondola turned gold. That indicated their destination. Then, the man gestured toward the seat. Once Lucian had settled, the gondolier pushed away from the canal’s wall with his oar, and set to rowing toward the Fourth Canton.
Verne as a city was divided into three residential cantons. Each of the three had a different style of architecture. Riverran architecture was stately, dignified marble—the oldest, and the base from which all others derived. Vantz maintained more ornamental, grandiose, and earnest styles. Veenish architecture was square and practical without excessive ornamentation.
This city had actually developed this way organically. Verne was located at the mouth of a river delta. The rivers feeding it wound through three of four great powers—the fourth power was an island nation, not far away from the city by ship. Verne had been where many disparate exiles converged. It had been built up over the centuries to become a city that was distinctly separate from the other three cultural identities on the continent. They were traders, using the grand river as a highway for commerce. The fact that the Vernish people had managed to build this from the sea spoke much of their ability.
There was one non-residential canton that was separated from all three, and quite distant from the main city. It hosted the Collegium and the Concord. Lucian was headed there now. He opened up his Evercodex, reading through it once more to remind himself of what he’d planned out. In particular, he flipped to his segment detailing the sequence of events for the story.
In three days, there’s an attack on the Concord, Lucian reflected. Introduces the game’s primary enemies, provides a tutorial for the player. Lucian wasn’t there, originally… but the enemies are weak, and I might be able to earn some goodwill. Lucian swallowed as he reflected on what battle entailed. Not to mention… I can cut my teeth. At some point, I’ll have to learn to defend myself.
The mere prospect of it felt overwhelming, but Lucian rubbed his neck to remind himself of his lack of options. One way or another, he had to fight. More than cutting his teeth, maybe he could get in the main character’s good graces, use him like a human shield. He paused as that thought came to him.
Are these real people?
Lucian’s throat tightened as he thought of it. Everything was only becoming more complicated, less certain, as he spent more time thinking about it. It was easy to be callous with his units when he was playing a game, but… he didn’t think he could be some detached strategist if these were real people. He couldn’t count how many of his units he’d killed to keep Lucian alive in the run. That was with the benefits of saving and reloading, which seemed a bygone reality.
Lucian heard a retching noise, and thought for a moment it came from him. He turned his head to see a vagrant puking into the canal, clutching a bottle. Lucian narrowed his eyes at the sight. A guard stepped out and picked the man up, hauling him away.
Yeah, these are definitely real people, Lucian decided.
***
The gondola neared the Fourth Canton of Verne. It was quite far away from the other three, and had much larger buildings. The Fourth Canton had been built atop a small island distant from the main city, which allowed it to have much more open space. Many gondolas were heading toward it, each with golden flames lighting their lanterns. Lucian looked for familiar faces without success. There were a lot of students in the Collegium besides those the protagonist commanded.
At the entry to the Fourth Canton was a great triumphal arch which bore statues of heroes from the distant past. Despite the tight congestion of boats as they entered the Fourth Canton, not a single one of the gondoliers bumped into one another. The boats slowed as they filtered through the archway, and when they passed beneath, Lucian saw the Concord of Verne ahead. It was a dignified, circular marble building with four flames atop it, each representing one great power. The water branched around it. There wasn’t any place to dock to visit the Concord—it was reached by stairs leading up from beneath.
The gondola turned right and went around the Concord. Lucian felt a redoubled wave of anxiety as spotted the Collegium. It was a gargantuan campus, replete with a stadium, gymnasium, a small park, and a tremendous host of classrooms. This place on its own was definitely as large as the other residential cantons he had passed by on his way here.
I have to learn how to fight here, he reflected. Otherwise, I’ll experience something called natural selection.
Lucian supposed that he didn’t realize how good he had it in a society where wars between great powers had gone the way of the dodo. Add demons and monsters to the mix…
Don’t think about it. Just do what you have to do, he repeated in his head, time and time again. He opened his Evercodex and reread his plan of action to distract himself until the gondola came to the docks. Lucian stood, then reached up and deposited one of his few remaining gold coins in the bowl atop the gondolier’s helmet.
If you tip them one hundred times, you get a blessing, he reflected. Only counts the tip once per day, though. Can I even make it one hundred days?
After that, Lucian clambered out of the gondola and looked around. Grand buildings loomed like giants overhead. He walked toward the entry hall, following the crowd. The main courtyard was a simple place. There was a stairway that led down in its center. Those stairs led to a hallway that travelled beneath the ground, leading to the Concord. Guards were stationed at its entrance to keep people out; only a select few were given free passage. Among those were Student Ambassadors.
Student Ambassadors were the best of the best in the Collegium—the leaders of the next generation. They were chosen for the ambassador program to get hands-on experience in diplomacy and leadership. All of the playable characters in War of Four were Student Ambassadors. They were the core team the protagonist commanded. The main character himself—or herself, he supposed, given you could customize them—was the Head Student Ambassador. That role was always filled by someone from Verne itself.
Lucian wasn’t a Student Ambassador, he reflected as he walked past the stairs leading down. But he had his father pull strings to be appointed as an auxiliary for their outings. That alone was the source of a lot of the resentment people felt toward Lucian in the game.
By now, those strings had already been pulled on his behalf. The resentment wasn’t a good thing, but if he was going to get the blessings he needed to get stronger… it was almost necessary to join the Student Ambassadors.
As Lucian made his way toward where he would be registered, he heard a voice calling his name. Responding to it already felt natural.
“Lucian,” the voice called out again, inspiring some dread. He turned to see Metterand walking toward him.
“Metterand,” he replied evenly.
“How do you feel? Better?” Metterand asked, but before Lucian could even respond said, “Good, that’s good.”
Metterand was the Chancellor for the Empire of Riverra in the Concord. More importantly, he was one of the warmongers responsible for dragging the nations into war. He was being manipulated by a demon… but it was a lot like being drunk—the demon couldn’t manipulate him if the instinct wasn’t there to begin with.
Lucian supposed that it helped to know who the traitors were ahead of time, but this man was of equal rank to his father and the Chancellor in the Concord. Even if Lucian knew, there wasn’t much he could do against him right now.
“Come with me a moment,” Metterand commanded. “I’ll walk with you to registration. We need to let your lessers know you have the protection of a duke.”
Lucian, without much choice, followed as they walked into the Collegium’s entrance. Metterand was wed to Lucian’s sister. She was described a few times offhand, typically as the ‘feeble-minded Villamar.’ It was frightening to think that Lucian was the smarter one in the family.
“It’s good that you’re here. You’ll feel better. I promise that much.” Metterand looked over, eyeing him like food. “I have need of someone to do some things for me. Odd jobs inside the Collegium. In return, I can put in a good word with your father.”
Lucian glanced at him. “You will?”
“Indeed,” Metterand responded with a smile. “You see, Lucian… I’m trying to do you a nicety. In this place, I might be the only thing keeping the wolves from you. Cooperate, you could gain back something you’ve lost. Buck, and you might find out who was keeping the world at bay. You’ll find out how hard it is to keep a fire burning in the rain.”
Metterand did nothing but place his hand near Lucian’s neck, but the effect was conveyed. The duke was a midboss—not someone he could afford to clash with, simply put. He’d always wondered why Lucian hadn’t been killed in the early game of War of Four. A lot of people hated him. Perhaps Metterand was the answer.
Maybe Lucian wasn’t just a spiteful idiot, he reflected. Maybe he had a boot on his neck, pushing him forth.
The duke’s hand slid away as the registration desk neared. “Go ahead,” he said, brushing off Lucian’s shoulder. “You’ll hear from me again. And soon.”
Lucian watched him leave briefly, then looked back ahead. Like this wasn’t complicated enough…
<Previous Table of Contents Next>
Comments
WarStrider72
Thanks for the chapter!
