Arcane: Mage from Noxus

Read up to 15 chapters ahead on Patreon - patreon.com/Light_lord

-----

"I will take responsibility for what happened last night. Whether it's the loss of the Ferros family or the death of a councilor, I will bear it all."

Camille's voice was cold and resolute as her sharp gaze swept across the room, landing on Stevan for a moment before moving to the other members present.

Many councilors lowered their heads, avoiding her piercing blue eyes, but a few dared to meet her gaze. Camille took careful note of them.

Medarda, Ferros...

"Camille..."

Caitlyn's voice was soft, laced with guilt and concern as she looked at her. This wasn't Camille's burden alone. Last night's disaster had been a collective failure, yet now Camille was shouldering it all.

If only they had the strength Camille possessed, they wouldn't have ended up in this position.

Jayce's expression mirrored Caitlyn's—his head hung low, a deep frown etched on his face. Frustration and self-reproach were clear in his demeanor.

They were supposed to lead. To protect. Instead, they had retreated like cowards, powerless to act when it truly mattered.

Why... why does doing the right thing so often come with such unbearable consequences?

"The people's grievances have been addressed," Mel interjected, her voice cutting through the tense atmosphere.

"Let's move on to the final topic: Zaun."

Sensing the volatile mood in the room, Mel took the initiative to steer the conversation. Today's council meeting was anything but ordinary.

On the surface, it seemed to be about Piltover, but beneath that veneer, it was clear that various factions were at odds.

The ambassador's demands, the Ferros family's fall, Camille's fiery determination—it was all a battlefield of agendas.

Mel herself had received a quiet warning from an influential visitor last night, and now all she could do was observe, carefully playing her part as a spectator.

"Yesterday, you went to Zaun. How long will it take for us to deal with them?" a blonde councilor asked impatiently, his tone cutting through the room.

"No matter the cost, it must be done today. Hesitation will lead us nowhere," Camille said, her voice icy and authoritative as her unflinching gaze moved across the council chamber.

"That… the price is too high," Jayce interrupted, his voice tinged with unease.

"If we go to war now, they'll fight back with everything they have. At least half of the members here could die. We need more time."

"Time?" A short, stout councilor scoffed.

"One day? One month? One year?"

"At least three months," Heimerdinger replied, his voice calm yet firm.

"Rigorous science and preparation require time, especially when applied to military operations."

"And that's exactly why I've said all along that we should consider peace talks," a female councilor sighed, holding her head in frustration. Her exhaustion was evident in every word.

Ding!

A spotlight illuminated the female councilor as she raised her right hand and spoke with a measured tone:

"I propose we negotiate with Zaun to buy ourselves time. If they agree to our conditions, we can discuss further, hold a vote, and then share the burden among ourselves."

Almost immediately, voices followed.

"Agree!"

"Agree!"

Two more spotlights lit up, highlighting two male councilors who raised their hands in approval.

The sight made Caitlyn's blood boil. Her fists clenched at her sides as anger surged within her. Her mother was still bedridden, her father's remains still missing. And yet, this was how the council chose to respond?

Ding!

Two more spotlights lit simultaneously.

Mel and Jayce exchanged a brief glance before raising their right hands, simultaneously announcing the inevitable.

Heimerdinger raised his hand, almost symbolically. The room fell silent as everyone turned their attention to Camille, anticipating her rejection of the proposal before it inevitably passed.

But Camille surprised them. Without hesitation, she raised her gloved right hand. Her voice was cold and unyielding:

"I will go to speak with Viktor personally. Furthermore, to take responsibility for last night's events, my council seat will be transferred to Stevan starting today. I will remain at the Enforcers moving forward."

Mel tilted her head slightly, a polite smile gracing her lips.

"That is your choice, Ms. Camille. You are more than qualified to represent the Council."

The other council members—save for Jayce, Heimerdinger, and Caitlyn—smiled and nodded in agreement.

Their expressions were amicable, but Camille could see through the thin veneer.

With the matter settled, Camille stood. She cast one final glance at her brother, her expression unreadable, before walking out of the council chamber without looking back.

As the heavy doors closed behind her, she could still faintly hear Stevan's voice speaking inside. But Camille paid it no mind.

Her footsteps echoed through the quiet hall as she made her way toward the Noxian embassy.

Everything in today's council meeting had been orchestrated. Camille suspected her naive younger brother had aligned himself with Noxus, or perhaps he was coerced by their agents.

No matter the reason, she knew one thing: Meredith was behind this. And with him, she would find the answers she sought.

"Am I the one you're waiting for? Viktor and Meredith."

The Noxian embassy. The reception room was the same as the day before, but the atmosphere felt heavier.

Camille entered, her head held high, her tone icy and deliberate.

"Ms. Camille, it's been far too long," Ryan greeted from the main seat, his demeanor calm yet unreadable.

Viktor stood behind him, giving her a small nod of acknowledgment.

"A pleasure to meet you again, Ms. Camille."

Camille's sharp gaze flicked between them, her lips curling into a faint sneer.

"I didn't come here to indulge in pleasantries with you or Meredith. You two are certainly well-informed. Yesterday, you were speaking to a councilor. Today, you're addressing a lady," she said, the mockery in her tone unmistakable.

Taking a seat on the same sofa as before, she crossed her legs, her piercing dark-blue eyes locking onto Ryan.

"Meredith, people are always eager to bow to strength, yet so few stop to consider the cost," she said, her voice cold and biting.

Ryan met her gaze with practiced calm, understanding the pointed accusation in her words.

She was referring to certain members of the council who had likely aligned themselves with Noxus.

Camille's purpose was clear. She had come seeking answers—answers about the Ferros family and, perhaps, a solution to the growing tensions between Piltover and Zaun.

Taking a measured sip of tea, Ryan replied evenly:

"Ms. Camille, the pursuit of strength is a natural instinct. The strong may not always wish to exploit the weak, but even the smallest actions can set off a chain reaction."

Camille's expression didn't waver. "That's it? Are the so-called strong merely creatures without ambition?" she asked, her tone carrying a trace of bitterness.

"Sometimes, the weak are crushed like ants beneath the feet of monsters, without ever understanding why."

Ryan leaned back slightly, his posture relaxed. "People become strong for a reason. The strong rarely have time to deal with small troubles—they have greater goals. Take Viktor, for example. He sought strength to save Zaun from Piltover's oppression. But even he cannot focus solely on his goals if he's constantly being pulled into petty conflicts. That's why others handle those matters for him."

Camille turned her gaze to Viktor, studying him before shaking her head slightly.

"That's a fine justification. But if he needs subordinates, they must be competent, not a pack of fools."

Ryan smiled faintly. "Even the least capable individuals have their uses, Ms. Camille. Noxians are adept at finding potential in the overlooked, and we ensure that their contributions are worthwhile."

Camille chuckled humorlessly. "How very Noxian of you. More pragmatic than Demacia, more grounded than Ionia. I must admit, your approach is effective. Fine. Let's stop dancing around. What does Zaun want?"

Ryan's demeanor shifted, the faint humor leaving his expression.

"A three-month ceasefire, with all overt hostilities paused. That is Piltover's request," Ryan said calmly.

Viktor gave Ryan a brief look of gratitude before adding his own demand.

"And as for Zaun," Viktor said, his mechanical voice steady, "we demand formal recognition of Zaun's independence. Nothing more, nothing less."