Arcane: Mage from Noxus

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"Mr. Colin, as you're aware, Councilor Talis has been recruiting workers recently. I wanted to hear your thoughts on the matter."

Mel offered a polite smile, though a subtle tension lingered at the corners of his mouth. Aware of Colin's frail health, he gestured for the butler to assist Colin to a nearby stone bench, ensuring he could sit comfortably.

"Thoughts?" Colin coughed twice, his voice thin but resolute.

"Councilor Talis's intentions are admirable. Piltover does need revitalization, but..."

He trailed off, his expression conflicted. Hesitation gripped him, and for a moment, he seemed reluctant to continue.

"Could you elaborate?" Jayce asked, leaning forward earnestly.

"If I'm missing something, I need you to tell me. I remember back when I was just an apprentice—you and Orianna were never shy about pointing out my mistakes."

Colin studied Jayce's face, sighing at the younger man's sincerity.

"Piltover has been through a lot recently," Colin began.

"First, Zaun declared its independence. While ordinary citizens might not feel it directly, Workshop Street has certainly been hit hard. After all, most of our suppliers come from Zaun."

He paused again, his gaze flickering with unease before continuing.

"Then I heard that a councilor was killed—a tragedy attributed to a Zaunite terrorist attack. But..." Colin hesitated before lowering his voice.

"Many of us don't truly believe that."

Jayce's expression darkened.

"Why not? The attack was orchestrated by Zaunites."

Colin met Jayce's eyes, his tone grave.

"Councilor Tallis... have you ever truly been to Zaun?"

"Call me Jayce," he replied.

"And yes, I've been there a few times with Viktor. It's chaotic—lawless, even. Frankly, no one wants to linger there longer than necessary."

"Exactly," Colin muttered.

"It's chaotic and grim. It used to be Piltover's slums, you know. I've worked there plenty of times and seen how they survive. But they don't lash out at councilors without reason."

"Why?" Jayce demanded, incredulous.

"The Council has never lied to its people."

Colin offered a faint, sad smile. "Perhaps not directly, but think about it. What could have provoked them to such violence? Many of us believe that someone—perhaps a counselor or someone else influential—did something to infuriate Zaun."

Colin's voice dropped further, his words careful.

"Even Ms. Camille tried to clarify the incident, but..."

He averted his eyes, his discomfort evident.

"So you think we're lying? Or worse, that we provoked this intentionally?"

Jayce let out a frustrated laugh, his disbelief growing.

"Zaun is a threat, and yet there are always those who fail to see it!"

"I don't claim to know everything, Councilor Tallis," Colin replied, his tone weary.

"But most of us don't want war. In fact, we're puzzled by the escalation. Zaun has already declared its independence. Why would they attack us further if their goal was to break away? It doesn't make sense."

He coughed weakly, his voice softening as he finished.

"Zaun has its hands full managing their affairs. Why would they expend resources on attacking Piltover? What would they gain?"

Jayce froze, momentarily lost for words as Colin stood, his frail figure retreating into the distance.

"Do you understand now?"

Mel's voice broke the silence as she placed a reassuring hand on Jayce's shoulder. Her gaze was sharp, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"No matter how Zaun might feel, it seems our people don't want war at all," Jayce murmured, his expression clouded.

"It's not just fear—it's mistrust. They think we're the source of the problem."

A bitter realization dawned on him as Colin's words replayed in his mind.

"The truth is, they don't see us as protectors of Piltover. To them, we're the ones stirring up trouble."

In other words, the people of Piltover didn't care about the consequences of Zaun's rise. They didn't care whether Zaun wanted independence.

They didn't want to get involved in the war, nor did they want to fight to protect the city.

"War is not glory, Jayce. This is not Noxus," Mel said, her hand resting gently on Jayce's shoulder, her tone understanding.

It was like she still couldn't agree with her mother's philosophy.

She remembered when she was a child, how her mother had taken her on an expedition to a small city in Shurima.

After the Noxian army had slaughtered the town's population in the sands, her mother had asked her a question:

"What do we do with the nobles and royalty of this small town, death or mercy?"

She vividly recalled that moment. At the time, she chose mercy, thinking it would be the right choice for the empire.

But the outcome was the opposite. Her mother had taught her a lesson—she had killed everyone with her own hands.

Looking at the blood flowing on the ground, Mel had known, in that instant, that she didn't belong in Noxus.

For Noxus, blood meant merit, and war meant glory.

Only through constant conquest and bloodshed could one earn glory and rise to a higher position.

As for the current commander of the Northern Front—Darius, the Iron-Blooded General of the Empire, known as the Hand of Noxus—Mel had grown up hearing stories about him.

He came from humble beginnings, even more humble than the average citizen.

But step by step, he had climbed the mountain of corpses, rising from the unknown to the highest ranks. Each scar on his body was a testament to the victories he had earned in battle.

Then, she had been assigned to Piltover, a city where peace and progress thrived.

It was in Piltover that Mel realized not every place was like Noxus. The weak had their means of survival; even without war, the people of Piltover could live well.

The price they paid wasn't much, but compared to a life where bloodshed was ever-present, this way of life was far more fulfilling.

"Do you know why Ms. Camille went to Zaun that night to carry out the beheading mission?" Mel asked suddenly, snapping Jayce from his thoughts with a smile.

"Why? Because the Ferros family's crystal mines are in Zaun?"

Jayce immediately thought of the councilors as only interested in their gain.

Mel shook her head with a bemused smile.

"Her reasons are far more complex than that. It's because she understood it was the last chance to unite Piltover."

"Last chance? Why?" Jayce's eyes narrowed slightly, his curiosity piqued.

He wasn't fully convinced by this idea.

If the mission had succeeded that night, it would have undoubtedly strengthened the confidence of Piltover's people.

That confidence would have helped them face any new challenges.

But even if they had failed, there would always be another opportunity.

Piltover had always been a city of progress, and that wouldn't change.

Jayce was eager to understand why Mel thought this was their final chance.