Redemption Arc

“What happened here? Are you all right, Rowan?” Christoph fussed over his son unnecessarily.

“I’m fine.” Rowan looked over to Lucian. “He saved me. This is Lucian.”

Christoph turned his eyes to Lucian. A known villain showing up right when demons do—he could predict the thoughts running through the man’s head. He’d rehearsed what he needed to say long in advance.

“It’s my father that saved you,” Lucian deflected. “He gave me some scrolls to use in self-defense. I used them against the ogre, that’s all.”

“Yes… I saw the purified essences from the ogre go to you.” Christoph swallowed as he stared at Lucian. “You have my thanks, Lord Lucian Villamar.” He bowed his head.

Lucian had been expecting an interrogation, but it seemed his gratitude came first. Christoph was a good man. He was also the protagonist’s father. That meant that he didn’t stay alive long in the War of Four. From his experience playing games, protagonist’s parents typically don’t last a long while, unless they’re bad parents—then, they’re villains.

“I do have some questions, but… we shouldn’t stay here,” Christoph said. “Come on.”

Christoph walked toward the door that the ogre had shut. He held his hands out as he walked, and two windy apparitions yanked the door open just as in the game.

“So… your father gave you five scrolls, a pre-loaded crossbow, and a strange ice potion for self-defense?” Rowan asked as they followed behind Christoph.

Lucian turned his head toward Rowan. One of the defining characteristics of the protagonist was his perceptiveness. It looks like that bit was holding true.

“I never leave home without them,” Lucian said dryly.

Rowan chuckled. “Well, whatever the case, I’ll say it again—thanks for saving my life.”

“Do mention it,” Lucian said. “Mention it often and everywhere. I don’t have the best reputation.”

Christoph smiled once more, then patted Lucian’s shoulder. “I’ll try and pay you back someday, save your life, but if you always leave home with scrolls like that, I don’t see how it’ll be possible.” He shook his head. “What a nightmare. Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

Lucian wondered how much he should say. Typically it was Christoph that explained things. He didn’t think it would hurt to assume that role.

“If I had to guess… they were targeting the treaty specifically,” Lucian said.

Rowan looked at him incredulously as they started to advance up the stairs. “All this for some old paper? They can just redraft the treaty, can’t they?”

“There’s a lot of unsolved political disputes that have arisen over the years. Redrafting the treaty means reopening the terms. It was easy enough to renew it every year—the terms were old, their ancestors had signed it before them, and tradition dictated it. If they refused to sign such a storied document, it’d be almost indefensible.” Lucian sighed. “Now, each of the four great powers are going to view this as an opportunity. They’ll push their own agenda, and accuse the other nations as having orchestrated this attack to change the terms of the agreement.”

Christoph stopped briefly and looked back. “He’s right. That’s a good analysis. It might seem like an insignificant piece of paper, but this could be disastrous if it’s not handled properly.” He shook his head and advanced further up the stairs. “In other words, it depends on the chancellors. Do they want to redraft the Treaty of Verne without changes? And the chancellors… well.” Christoph trailed off, saying nothing further.

“…I guess I can see that.” Rowan shook his head. “I grew up here in Verne. Guess I take the international politics for granted. And Villamar… that’s a house in the Empire of Riverra, right?”

“Yes,” Lucian confirmed.

Rowan acknowledged that with a nod. They didn’t have time to talk much more as they came to the top of the stairs. The guards had been absent before, but now they were actually interfering with people going to investigate. The dean arrived just as Christoph made it to the top.

“Christoph!” the dean shouted. “What—”

“We need some healers down there immediately,” Christoph interrupted. “I’ve stabilized them as best I can, but Chancellor Clemens Metterand and Chancellor Sibylle Vantz are incapacitated,” he declared, and the crowd gasped in alarm. Their reaction was nothing compared to what he said next. “The other two chancellors are dead, along with all their guards.”

Lady Lorenna immediately rushed past the guards and went down the stairs, trailed after by several others.

“What happened down there?” Dean Mortimer demanded.

“Demons,” Christoph said simply.

Lucian wished he could just slink away from this quietly. He could tell that a lot of people were already looking at him accusatorily. He hoped that this wouldn’t make his reputation worse. The aftermath almost promised to be more exhausting than that battle against the ogre.

“All of you…” the dean looked between them. “I’d like you to stay here. I want to talk with you, in time.”

Lucian rehearsed his story once more.

***

“Why did you go down there?” Dean Mortimer asked him.

After a long and exhaustive examination of the area, Lucian, Christoph, and Rowan had been taken to be questioned separately. He wasn’t going to try and play any mind games to wiggle his way out of the situation. The dean, with his sharp eyes and firm features, stared at Lucian with a merciless expression. He appeared every bit the ruthless interrogator. He wore a neat suit, unbuttoned so he could sit.

“I heard the noise, felt that tremor,” Lucian said.

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“And then you went down there,” the dean continued, and Lucian nodded. “The guards didn’t stop you?”

“There weren’t any guards,” Lucian said.

“Are you sure?”

“Sure as the sun rises.”

The dean stared at him and kept staring at him for a period that felt like an eternity.

“What happened inside?” the dean eventually pressed.

“An ogre appeared from a sigil inside the Concord,” Lucian began. “It shut the doors, sat down, and then threw out a bottle, which…”

Lucian explained the whole story from beginning to end. He didn’t say anything that Rowan could contradict.

“Why did you have those scrolls on you?” the dean asked, tapping his finger against his temple.

“To do what I did,” Lucian said. “Defend myself.”

“Five scrolls for self-defense?” the dean raised a brow.

“Six, actually. I didn’t use one.” Lucian smiled sardonically. “I’m not particularly well-liked.”

The dean stared once more. Then, he took a deep breath and sighed. “I apologize if my questioning and came off as intense. This is simply the largest security breach that we’ve ever had in this facility, and I have to consider every angle.” He rose to his feet and buttoned his suit jacket. “You might be called upon again if anything further comes up.”

“What, no reward?” Lucian joked, but then rose up as well. He stood eye-to-eye with the dean, and shook his hand. “It’s fine, I get it.”

He didn’t want to say too much to the dean in case he came under suspicion. The more that he revealed to others, the further the course would get twisted. Maybe there was something that he could do to change things in the future, but right now come he didn’t have enough power, either in terms of influence or stats. Survival came first.

“I could give you a public award, but our budget is already stretched thin as it is,” the dean said honestly. “I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that your appointment as student auxiliary came after a donation from the Villamar family. I’m sure the budget’s going to get thinner, considering we have to up security,” he muttered bitterly.

“A public award for killing an ogre?” Lucian shook his head. “That’s a big deal for a weakling like me, but for a lot of people, it’s what you should be doing without pay. Enough people hate me. Just a mention in your speech, maybe, wouldn’t hurt. Sprinkle a little sugar.”

“Didn’t need to ask for that.” The dean finished the hand shake. “Once again, I apologize this happened. We will get to the bottom of it, I promise you.”

Empty promises, thought Lucian, but he said nothing of it. The dean’s more concerned about the Collegium’s reputation than the demons.

***

Dean Mortimer’s office overlooked the majority of the school campus on a high tower. Internally, it was homey and comfortable, with dark wood, soft carpets, and a hearth ever-blazing in the corner. Only two were in the room now.

“Chancellor Metterand is conscious but wounded, and Chancellor Sibylle is stabilized—I’m sure she’ll wake up within the next few days. We have her under heavy protection, in case someone tries to silence her as a witness,” Lady Lorenna reported to Dean Mortimer. “The guards… they’re all dead, I’m afraid.”

The dean looked out the window of his office. “They were definitely attacked by demons?”

“Quite powerful ones,” she confirmed. “Or… one, if Metterand’s story is to be believed. He only saw one demon before being struck. Sibylle encased herself in an ice coffin, which it appears they couldn’t break. They definitely tried.”

“Why is Metterand alive?” the dean questioned, looking back.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “Could be dumb luck. In the case that it isn’t… vigilance wouldn’t hurt. I purified him quite thoroughly with holy magic—if there was any demonic influence, it’s gone now. But…”

“Metterand is generally the person I’ve been using to spy on people,” the dean said. “If he’s compromised…” the dean cradled his forehead. “What a disaster. Unparalleled disaster. If we can’t staunch the bleeding this will cause…”

Lady Lorenna fell silent, looking to the fireplace.

“Would you say that holy magic is ideal for self-defense against people?” The dean looked back.

“Mmm…” Lady Lorenna pursed her lips. “As the Head Instructor for holy magic, I am a bit biased.”

“Be unbiased,” he commanded.

“Even against people, it’s very solid,” Lorenna praised. “Not as powerful as fire, ice, all the others, but it’s accurate, fast. And the lack of power is good if you’re not trying to kill—not to mention the fact that most holy attacks heal the caster, as well.”

“Hmm.” The dean looked back out the window. “Thank you, Lady Lorenna, for your service today.”

“Of course,” she said, dipping her head.

***

Lucian sat at his desk in his room with the Evercodex open before him. That battle had been utterly terrifying. Even now, his brain hadn’t fully quieted. The slightest noises made him jump quite a bit. But all of that served as further confirmation that what he had learned still had value. The enemies, their skills, their abilities—every detail about them was still true.

But I was only able to do that because I sold every bit of jewelry that the heir to a dukedom had in his apartment, Lucian reflected. Now… I’m flat broke. I won’t get a windfall like that again.

Still, Lucian couldn’t deny that it was a windfall. The opportunities to raise his stats like that would be few and far between. After all that he’d gained from that battle, he’d edited his stats in his Evercodex.

HP: 13

STR: 13

CON: 11

DEX: 14

SPD: 13

MAG: 14

Compared to just about every Student Ambassador he could think of, those stats weren’t worth much at all. He had STR and CON similar to most playable mages. His health was still the lowest among any playable characters. Lucian had been worried that keeping track of this was a waste of time, but after that fight…

Everything I’ve tried holds true, Lucian thought. The blessings, all of that—they’ll be there, I hope. That’s going to be a major advantage, provided I can seize it. Not only that, provided things don’t go off-course, the enemies that appear, the bosses—I can plan out how to beat them long in advance. That’s an unimaginable advantage.

That brought him to a rather complicated dilemma that he’d been pondering. Should he try and intervene and save the lives of those he knew were in danger? Logically, the more he changed, the more the world would change. Let’s say he saved someone who was fated to die—Christoph, Rowan’s father. Lucian was pretty sure he could save him. Because he’d saved his life, Christoph remained a fighting force the demons needed to consider. Lucian might be planning to fight four ogres, but because Christoph yet lived they sent three ogres and five vampires. What the hell would he do?

Lucian’s strengths—his only strengths, by his estimation—was his knowledge of the future, and the ability to develop robust strategies. Facing down that ogre had been terrifying, but he’d managed because he had a plan he could stick to. He always had some flex in his plans—he still had one scroll left in case things had gone sour—but if things deviated too much, he’d be killing his only advantage.

It’ll take a while for things to heat up to that point. Lucian leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. I have some time. But this is a question that needs to be answered eventually. Do I do what’s right… or do I make sure that I can survive?