What an incredibly confusing road…
Lucien muttered it under his breath as he walked, his gaze drifting ahead while he made his way north through the maze-like streets.
This road, apparently called Shadow Lane, served as a main north–south route through the eastern district. Its width shifted unpredictably between three and six meters. Some sections were wide enough for carts to pass, while others narrowed into tight, cramped stretches.
The ground was mostly dirt and mud, left deliberately unmaintained. Potholes, scattered trash, and shallow puddles made movement slower than usual.
Certain walls bore chalk markings that looked like random scribbles to outsiders, while the buildings on either side leaned inward in places, blocking much of the sunlight and leaving the lower levels dim for most of the day. Instead of light, a layer of ambient miasma hung in the air, visible to him as a faint reddish fog, thicker than he would've liked.
At a glance, the street looked quiet, but people moved in and out of side paths often. It wasn't empty, just not openly busy.
Before the Eclipse, and even now to some extent, the district had functioned as a lower-class residential zone, a vice district, an immigrant quarter, and a hub for criminal activity. The Twilight Covenant operated here.
As he continued north, the road gradually widened until it eventually opened up to a bridge.
A river cut across the district, its dark surface moving slowly under the dim light. The water carried a faint murkiness, not exactly clean, but noticeably better than what he had seen deeper in the slums.
The bridge spanning it was a rickety wooden rope structure, roughly sixty meters long and about three meters wide. The planks creaked under even light pressure, and the ropes along its sides sagged slightly, swaying with the wind. It didn't exactly inspire confidence.
Beyond the bridge lay a more structured area. Wooden docks lined the riverbank, with small boats tied along them. Storage warehouses stood nearby, their doors reinforced, and farther along was what looked like a fishmonger's wharf.
A few men lingered near the entrance of the bridge, their attention loosely fixed on anyone coming or going.
When he approached them, one of them immediately noticed him.
"Ah, Lucien," the man—Mordecai, he recalled—greeted with a grin. "Haven't seen you around for a while. Heading across to buy something?"
“Yeah,” Lucien replied, returning a small, easy smile as he slowed to a stop near them. “Figured I’d check out Edric’s shop.”
His gaze flicked between the two men absentmindedly, tracing the faint reddish tint within their bodies. Their Corruption levels were low, around the same as Lyla.
“…I was out on an expedition in the Southern Ruins and the Contested Zone for a bit,” he added, tone casual as he shifted his weight. “What about you two? Feels like I always see you standing guard instead of fighting on the front lines.”
The second man—Lazarus—snorted, his expression souring.
“I was supposed to head into the Contested Zone today,” he said, voice edged with irritation, “but the merchants pulled their forces back last minute. So now I’m stuck here.”
Lucien tilted his head slightly, brows lifting.
"Isn't that a good thing? You could get killed by another district or even by the Hollow."
“If you ask me,” Lazarus said with a long sigh, dragging a hand through his hair, “I’d rather deal with Hollows than rot from boredom here. But you probably wouldn’t get it. Your kind of work plays it safe, Lucien.”
Lucien let out a quiet huff of amusement, the corner of his mouth lifting.
“I’m just not in a hurry to die,” he replied lightly.
Lucien was the cautious type, which contrasted with the usual image of the Inferni, who were known for indulging in chaos. It worked out well, though, since the current him had no intention of being reckless either.
Mordecai gave a small shake of his head, his grin softening into something more thoughtful.
“People like you are necessary,” he said. “Without someone gathering information, idiots like us who rush in headfirst wouldn’t last long.”
Lucien raised a brow slightly, then chuckled under his breath.
“Don’t worry, I’m not fishing for compliments,” he said, lifting a hand in a lazy shrug. “If we were in a group, I’d probably be the first one to bail.”
Lazarus snorted at that, while Mordecai just shook his head again, amused.
They lingered for a few more moments, trading a couple of idle remarks before Lucien eventually stepped past them, giving a casual wave over his shoulder as he moved on.
On the other side of the bridge was the eastern section of the Consortium's Merchant Quarter. From what he knew, this was the warehouse district, where grain stores, medical supplies, and weapon caches were concentrated. He didn't head into the inner areas, which were restricted anyway, and instead kept to the riverside paths.
After about ten minutes of walking, he reached the residential tier.
The difference was immediate. Townhouses lined the streets, with apartment units built above small shops. The roads were actually swept, the water lines seemed to be functioning, and the lanterns looked maintained rather than barely hanging on.
Lucien slowed slightly, taking it in, his expression settling into quiet observation.
Even the ambient miasma was thinner here. Using his Corruption Sense, he could tell the Corruption was around 15%.
Compared to the 30% Corruption in Warrens, where he lived, this one felt almost civilized.
To put it into perspective, he thought, glancing down the cleaner stretch of road, it would take about half a year of constant outdoor exposure in a fifteen-percent zone just to reach that same level of Corruption.
In the Warrens, you’d be pushing fifty percent or more just by staying outside that long. Being indoors helped—cutting the exposure roughly in half—but it wasn’t enough to offset it completely.
After fifteen percent, the accumulation rate increased rapidly. Seventy-five percent marked the point where a person effectively became a Hollow, but the symptoms had already worsened long before reaching it.
There were defined stages—six in total, though they branched into nine when broken down further. Stage 1 was divided into A, B, and C, Stage 2 into A and B, and by Stage 3, a person was already considered Hollow. Everything beyond that was simply further deterioration.
Lucien exhaled quietly, his gaze drifting across the street as his expression settled into something more focused.
…This should be a good place to test the system.
It was still early in the morning, so there were barely any people in the streets. Thanks to that, he didn't get many strange looks.
He wandered along the stone-paved Coppergate Lane, his pace unhurried as his eyes moved methodically over the buildings lining the street. After a while, he stopped in front of a three-story shop with a hand-lettered sign hanging beside the door:
Aldrekvel & Calvar — Magical Sundries, Alchemical Components, Weave Instruments. Est. 1483 A.R. — Honest Weights, Fair Prices.
He knocked on the solid oak door a few times.
"Lucien Mordren."
It didn't take long for someone to answer.
The man who opened the door looked to be in his early fifties. His black hair was cut short, paired with a thick beard and mustache. His skin was darkened by years under the sun, with deep lines across his forehead and heavy circles under his eyes. His gaze looked dull and lifeless. His Corruption level wasn't high, only around twelve percent, so that wasn't the cause. Either way, he didn't seem happy to see him.
"Edric… wow. You somehow look worse than usual."
“What do you want?” Edric shot back, his frown deepening.
"No need to be so hostile," Lucien replied with a light chuckle, glancing past him into the shop. Display cases and shelves lined the interior, most of them noticeably empty. "So, what, you're actually planning to leave the city?"
Edric's gaze dropped slightly, his jaw tightening.
“Waiting for purification from the Lifebringers is just waiting for my daughter to die slower,” he muttered. “And going to the Illuminators are suicide. I might as well take my chances outside.”
The Lifebringers were followers of the Progenitor of All-Living—one of the major gods in Valdris, holding authority over creation and life. As far as Lucien knew, they were the only ones capable of reducing Corruption in any meaningful way.
The Illuminators, on the other hand, were extremist followers of the Herald of Dawn—another major god who held authority over light and knowledge. Their methods were questionable at best, often involving the removal of limbs.
Lucien's smile sharpened, if only a little.
"Yeah? And here I thought slow death had its charm," he said lightly. "Well… what if I told you I've got a way around that problem?"