Arcane: Mage from Noxus

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At noon the next day, Ryan, still seated at the dining table, received news from Piltover.

As of today, the number of Piltover Councillors had increased from seven to eight. Jayce Talis had officially become the first-ever 8th Councillor in Piltover's history.

When Jayce took office, he vowed to ensure the safety of Hextech, protect the property of Piltover's citizens, and safeguard its people from danger.

"After the turmoil yesterday, he came out as the biggest winner," Katarina remarked with a slight raise of her brows.

"Word is that Mel and the Medarda family are behind this."

She seemed more interested in Mel's maneuverings than in Jayce becoming a Councillor. Like Mel, Katarina was an exiled daughter of her homeland.

However, Mel appeared to wield more political cunning, a sharpness Katarina begrudgingly noted. Though she could easily end Mel in mere moments if it came to that, her time following Ryan had taught her something invaluable—

Brains often matter more than brawn.

"It's not particularly surprising," Ryan said, his tone neutral.

"This gives the Medarda family two permanent seats in the Council. Add to that their deep connections with two other Councilors, and they've effectively secured control of nearly half the Council's voice."

Ryan's expression remained calm. Mel securing four out of eight seats was hardly her endgame. Her ambition likely aimed for a fifth seat—or perhaps for the number of Councillors to revert to seven once more.

Katarina set down her knife and fork, her brows furrowing in thought.

"That woman is undoubtedly talented, but I can't shake the feeling that she'll overreach and destroy herself in the process."

"An assassin's intuition?" Ryan asked, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"I just don't like her," Katarina replied bluntly.

"Jayce Talis is the pride of Piltover," Ryan teased.

"Wouldn't it be entertaining to see him caught in the fallout?"

Katarina scoffed coldly. "When a woman succumbs to the blindness of love, she always ends up doing something incredibly foolish."

"Only time will tell," Ryan replied.

"As long as Jayce doesn't betray Noxus or his own principles, he'll remain an ally. For now."

Ryan didn't believe Mel would ever abandon her family's interests for Jayce. The Medarda family had given her everything—wealth, status, and power. These were gifts that neither Jayce nor Piltover could hope to match.

Just then, a soldier from the embassy approached Ryan respectfully and whispered, "Your Excellency, a visitor is requesting to meet you—a gentleman with impaired mobility."

"Bring him in," Ryan said calmly.

"He is a friend of Noxus, a man of wisdom and talent, deserving of respect."

The soldier's expression grew serious upon hearing this. He nodded firmly before hurrying back to the door.

In Noxus, any individual with talent—regardless of its nature—was admired and respected.

Shortly thereafter, Viktor entered the dining hall, aided by the soldiers.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Viktor," Ryan greeted.

"Would you like the staff to prepare lunch for you?"

"No… I've already eaten," Viktor replied.

"Apologies for interrupting your meal, Your Excellency."

As Viktor attempted to sit, his crutches wavered for a moment. A soldier quickly placed them in the ideal position for support, allowing Viktor to sit down with ease.

Watching the soldier step back respectfully, Viktor seemed slightly uncomfortable.

"Are all Noxian soldiers like this?" he asked.

"Not all of them," Ryan replied with a faint smirk.

"The soldiers stationed in Piltover are trained in diplomatic etiquette. In Freljord, however, they're selected for their strength and ability to drink copious amounts of strong liquor. And in Shurima, adaptability and endurance are their most prized traits."

Ryan could tell this was Viktor's first time receiving such treatment. In Noxus, however, respect for talent—no matter the form it took—was ingrained in their culture.

To survive in Noxus, you must possess a skill—something that ensures you won't be dismissed or looked down upon.

In Noxus, "serving others" is not a derogatory term. For many among the lower classes, it is a valuable craft, a way to secure respect and purpose.

Viktor digested Ryan's words thoughtfully before posing a question:

"What about Zaun?"

Ryan paused briefly, momentarily stunned by the question, but he quickly collected himself and responded:

"It depends on Zaun's direction and leadership. There's no reason for separate embassies in the upper and lower cities. Viktor, I don't think your vision is meant to be confined to being a mere assistant."

"Your Excellency Ryan..."

Viktor clenched his fists, then relaxed them. A moment of silence passed, and when he finally spoke, his voice carried unshakable resolve:

"I've always had a distant dream. What I want is for Zaun to stand as an equal to Piltover. For Zaunites to have the same rights and representation. Not like today, where Councillors treat Zaun's people as less than human."

The compromises of Jayce Talis and the unyielding arrogance of Piltover had made one thing clear to Viktor: handing Hextech to Piltover's ruling class would not lead to prosperity for Zaun.

Instead, the chasm between Zaun and Piltover would only grow wider. One day, the elites of Piltover would decide the fate of Zaunites with a mere wave of their hand, reducing the downtrodden to nothing more than pawns.

This grim reality was something Viktor had come to understand, largely due to the man sitting before him.

In truth, Viktor had known even before arriving that Ryan had his own motives. Whether those motives aligned with Zaun's interests or simply his own was unclear.

And yet, this didn't trouble Viktor. He had grown tired of Piltover's hollow words, their empty promises that offered nothing of substance.

"Even if it means turning your back on your colleagues? Even if it disappoints your mentor? Even if it costs you the future of Hextech itself?"

Ryan's voice was calm but unyielding. Slowly, he wiped the corners of his mouth with a handkerchief, each word landing like a sharp blade cutting into Viktor's resolve.

"I..."

Viktor opened his mouth to respond but faltered. Memories flooded his mind in a rush.

The excitement of working alongside Jayce, envisioning the future of Hextech. The wisdom imparted by Professor Heimerdinger, who had inspired him as a student.

The countless nights spent immersed in the wonder of his research.

These memories clouded his thoughts, leaving him torn and uncertain. His once-steeled resolve began to falter, and his hands rose to cover his face, shielding his anguish from Ryan's piercing gaze.

He had expected Ryan to press him on these matters, but now that the moment was here, it felt infinitely more painful than he had imagined.

The memories of Piltover—the good and the bad—were too deeply entrenched to easily let go.

"Viktor," Ryan said firmly.

"Look up."

Hesitantly, Viktor raised his head. What he saw in Ryan's expression surprised him: encouragement, but also something darker—an invitation, almost devilish in its allure.

"Humans often act out of passion, believing the choices they make are simple, certain, and absolute," Ryan said.

"But true success is anything but simple. It demands time, energy, and sacrifice. And even then, failure is all too common."

"You mean..." Viktor began, his voice trailing off in surprise.

"Don't let your ideals blind you, Viktor," Ryan continued.

"You must have a clear plan for your future. This afternoon, I have a meeting with someone from Zaun. Would you like to join me?"

"Zaun..." Viktor whispered.

Then, with a faint, bitter smile, he added, "Thank you, Your Excellency Ryan."

In truth, he was conflicted. A part of him felt vulnerable, knowing Ryan could have easily manipulated him into betraying Piltover with mere words.

But Ryan hadn't. Viktor couldn't help but wonder why.

"How about disguising yourself for the meeting?" Ryan suggested suddenly, his lips curling into a faint smile.

"Pretend to be a Noxian for a while. Experience your homeland through a different lens."

Viktor hesitated at first, instinctively wanting to refuse. But after a moment's thought, he realized it might not be such a bad idea. Perhaps stepping into another identity would give him a new perspective.

"I think," Viktor said finally, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his lips, "that Your Excellency simply wants a follower for the day."

Ryan chuckled lightly. "The soldier you met earlier will help you prepare. See you later, Viktor."

"See you later, Your Excellency Ryan," Viktor replied.

As Viktor watched Ryan leave, he couldn't help but feel a quiet curiosity growing in his heart.

What lay ahead might challenge everything he believed in—but perhaps, in that challenge, he would find the answers he was looking for.