A Villain's Guide to Saving the World-Chapter 59: The Great Villain! Encounters Yet Another Group of Misfits...?
Lucian reappeared once more, this time in a narrow, forgotten alley tucked between towering stone buildings. The thick smell of fresh bread wafted from a nearby bakery as he took in the capital city around him, planning to explore before heading back to train the soldiers and speak with Ivan.
"Been a while since I lounged for a bit."
He said, smirking as his eyes scanned the street beyond the alley. A moment later, a notification appeared in the corner of his vision. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮
[Dominions Unlocked]
-Merchants
-Wealth
-Fear
-Fire
Lucian raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smile. The sudden influx of new powers caught him off guard. His curiosity piqued, but the grin stayed in place as he mused aloud.
"Either my goblin army or the cult’s doing, either way, glad they’re useful while I’m out here."
With a flick of his wrist, he swiped the menu away, the interface vanishing as he stepped into the vibrant chaos of the city. The streets were alive with activity—buildings towering over him, stores crowded with shoppers, adventurers bantering over recent conquests, and the constant hum of carriages clattering over cobblestones.
The sounds of bustling chatter, the haggling of vendors, the rhythmic grunts of horses pulling carts, and the calls of street workers filled the air—so much louder, so much more chaotic than the stillness of Greywood.
Then, as if summoned by fate, a voice boomed across the street, cutting through the noise.
"Hey! You’re Prince Ivan’s new follower, right?"
Lucian glanced over, spotting a group of adventurers seated around a large wooden table outside a cozy inn, their laughter and chatter blending with the sound of clinking mugs and the sizzling of food on the grill. The warrior—a burly man with a thick beard and a broad chest—waved enthusiastically. His comrades included a robed wizard, a hooded archer with pointy ears, a rogue with skin like amethyst, and, of course, the warrior himself.
"Come join us for a bit!"
The warrior bellowed, slamming his chest with a hearty laugh before chugging down a mug of ale in one smooth motion. Lucian noted the man’s remarkable resilience. A dwarf’s capacity for alcohol in a human’s body, he thought with a small chuckle.
He stepped forward, narrowly dodging a carriage that sped by, a group of knights on horseback in pursuit. The sound of hooves and shouting filled the air, and Lucian couldn’t help but chuckle at the spectacle. A few passersby cheered on the knights, adding to the chaotic scene.
"That was fun..." Lucian muttered with a smirk, his eyes gleaming in amusement. He continued toward the adventurers’ table, hands casually slipping into his pockets.
He reached them and leaned against the table, eyes scanning the group. "So... what now?"
The wizard—a young woman with black hair and glasses—laughed lightly and pulled off her pointed hat, revealing a face that screamed academic. She was younger than Lucian had expected, her sharp eyes betraying her studious nature.
"I’m surprised you’re so calm after almost getting run over like that!" she remarked, chuckling as her codex—a tome thick with pages—lay faintly glowing on the table beside her.
"That wouldn’t even harm me, even if it did hit," Lucian replied coolly, his tone nonchalant. As he spoke, he noticed the lack of an extra chair. A slight flick of his wrist, and a shadowy tendril reached out to grab a chair from a nearby empty table. He pulled it over with a fluid motion before sitting down, legs stretched out lazily. His eyes never left the group.
"Back to my question... what now?"
The rogue, a male dark elf with sharp features, huffed loudly, clearly irritated. His piercing, amethyst skin seemed to pulse with his annoyance as he glared at the warrior. His voice dripped with disdain.
"Why call this person over? He clearly isn’t worth our time."
Lucian’s grin twitched at the insult. His gaze hardened, his fingers tapping against the wooden table in slow, deliberate beats. Each tap was sharp and commanding, the sound almost cruel in its precision.
The rogue clicked his tongue audibly, clearly unfazed by Lucian’s attempt at intimidation.
"Did this... common rogue just think I’m not worth his time?" Lucian thought, his eyes narrowing.
The warrior sighed loudly, clearly used to the bickering between his comrades. He reached for another mug of ale, taking a deep swig. The air seemed to thicken as the dark elf and Lucian exchanged stares, but before it could escalate, the archer—another elf, this one a high elf with blonde hair and striking green eyes—spoke up. Her expression was unbothered, her pale skin almost glowing in the sunlight.
"Dark elves," she muttered, shaking her head, "always so arrogant. This is why your kind aren’t liked, you know?"
She shrugged casually, resting her arms on the table as she leaned her head against her hands.
"Keep that up, and I’ll slit your throat," the rogue growled, the venom clear in his tone.
The wizard interjected before it could spiral, her codex flickering with an arcane pulse. Both the rogue and the high elf fell silent, their mouths moving, but no sound came out. The wizard rubbed her temple in exasperation.
"These two..." she sighed, "They never get along."
Lucian watched the exchange with a bemused expression. He leaned back in his chair, his grin twitching once more—this time tinged with both confusion and annoyance.
What the hell is up with them?
The warrior spoke once more, his voice more serious this time, the jovial tone fading just enough to reveal a hint of purpose behind his words.
"Elves and their disputes—an average day with our party."
He leaned forward, his fingers drumming once against the heavy wooden table, the casual energy shifting. His eyes locked onto Lucian’s, firm and resolute.
"Now for my real concern. We are interested in the royal selection and wish to join it."
Lucian raised his eyebrow, mouth slightly agape as he blinked once, taken aback.
"Huh...? It isn’t really something you can just join..."
The warrior laughed, the sound hearty but edged with confidence, his hand resting on the ornate hilt of his longsword. The worn leather of its sheath creaked beneath his grip before he let it go and placed both hands flat on the table, leaning in slightly.
"Don’t worry, we know all about the requirements of having to swear fealty to one of the three princes. And since you’re with the third prince—what about it?"
He shrugged casually, as if proposing a weekend plan rather than a political alliance.
"We’ll be willing to join his cause. He seems nice enough."
The wizard added, her voice light and enthusiastic as she raised her hand in mock ceremony. She tugged her pointed hat back onto her head, adjusting it with a flourish. The sun glinted off her glasses, casting a brief flare as her face lit up.
"Yeah! We might not look like it, but we’re Gold-ranked adventurers. We even took down a dragon before!"
She beamed, her tone filled with pride, and her eyes practically sparkled with excitement at the memory. There was no arrogance in her voice—just a bright, youthful exuberance that made her claim all the more compelling.
Lucian gave an audible "hoh," his expression shifting as a flicker of genuine intrigue crossed his features. He tilted his head slightly, studying them anew.
Now that’s what you call a hook.
"Oh? I think I’m starting to listen."
Lucian’s eyes sparkled, narrowing with consideration. If what she said was true—if they really had slain a dragon—then these adventurers could prove to be more than just loud tavern companions. They might be the kind of powerful allies the Third Prince would need.
Lucian leaned forward, folding his arms over the table as he studied each of them in turn. The rogue was still glaring at him with an edge of disdain, though the silencing spell kept his mouth mercifully shut. The high elf archer, now toying with one of her silver-tipped arrows, watched him from beneath long lashes—expression unreadable. The warrior, however, had returned to his relaxed demeanor, sipping his drink while tossing a bone from a finished roast onto a nearby plate.
"So you want in on the royal selection," Lucian muttered, tapping a finger against his chin. "Do you even know what you’re walking into? This isn’t some heroic quest or fame-hunt. It’s politics, blood, and old grudges dressed up in golden banners."
The wizard tilted her head slightly, her smile dimming, though not disappearing.
"We’ve seen worse," she said with quiet certainty. "The Guild doesn’t hand out Gold ranks to just anyone. Every one of us has bled for it."
The rogue snapped his fingers, the spell finally fading. He rolled his shoulders with a grunt, eyes narrowing.
"And we’re not here to play dress-up with noble fools," he said, voice low and clipped. "We want influence. Power. Enough to shape something in this damn realm. If backing your prince gets us there, then so be it."
Lucian stared at him for a moment, unmoved by the blunt delivery. "Honest. I’ll give you that much."
He leaned back in his chair, the legs creaking under the motion. The sounds of the street continued around them—merchants hawking wares, metal clanging from a distant forge, a dog barking somewhere nearby—but the conversation at the table had fallen into a quieter rhythm, more focused.
