The Insane Regressor: Throne of Pride

’He looks exactly as I remember him,’ Ravian thought.

Patrick noticed the way Ravian was studying him.

”Have we met before?” Patrick asked.

”No, my lord.” Ravian shook his head.

Patrick glanced around the small reception room before looking back toward the corridor.

”This isn’t the right place to discuss a project that might require digging up half the capital. Come to my study.”

Earl Patrick already had some idea of the project from his earlier conversation with Shmichael.

...

A page Shmichael had prepared after returning from the river, once he’d grasped the preliminary shape of Ravian’s project, was already lying on Earl Patrick’s desk.

It contained nothing but the broad strokes of Ravian’s proposal: separate systems for clean water and waste, underground drainage, treatment facilities outside the city, and a financial model of Shmichael’s own design that could turn the construction into a profitable venture.

Patrick sat down behind the desk while Ravian took the seat facing him. Larette and Shmichael remained nearby.

”I’ve read the outline several times,” Patrick said. ”Shmichael believes the idea is worth considering, and my daughter has hardly spoken about anything else—except whenever she remembers that she’s supposed to be annoyed with you.”

”Father,” Larette murmured in irritation.

Patrick ignored her.

”The outline is promising, but an outline costs nothing. Explain how you intend to build it,” Earl Patrick said, settling back in his chair.

Ravian reached for the blank paper and ink pen Shmichael had laid out.

”The first thing you need to understand is that this project will completely reshape the capital’s underlying infrastructure over the years to come,” Ravian said. ”And the way I see it, what happened a few days ago—regrettable as it was—is also an opportunity to create a remedy, something that pulls the capital out of its grief and gets people focused on the future instead of the past.”

Patrick’s gaze sharpened slightly at the direct mention of the disaster.

”You want to begin with the areas near the Ninth District? Why?” Patrick asked.

”Because the initial disaster is over, but its consequences are still killing people.”

Ravian sketched a simplified map of the damaged areas surrounding the crater.

”The shockwave shattered the water conduits, damaged the wells, blocked the roads, and set fires burning throughout the surrounding districts. Thousands of displaced people are now packed together inside temples and warehouses that were never designed to house them. Waste is piling up faster than it can be carried away, while the damaged conduits allow it to mix with the water people drink.”

Ravian tapped the map with the pen.

”I passed through one of those warehouses this morning. The relief operations are keeping people alive, but the overcrowding and contaminated water will eventually lead to an outbreak of disease. The disaster struck once. Poor infrastructure will continue adding to the death toll unless the capital acts differently.”

Patrick leaned back slightly.

”You’re using a tragedy to force the capital into investing heavily in your project,” the Earl said.

Ravian raised his eyes to meet his.

”I’m here to turn a profit, my lord, not to share in your grief, and I’m also telling you what will happen to the survivors if no one builds it.”

”As for the investment or anything else, I’m certain anyone would look at this project and see an opportunity, whether to make money or gain power,” Ravian said calmly.

Patrick held Ravian’s gaze for several seconds, then gestured for him to continue.

Ravian drew two separate networks beneath the streets.

”Clean water and wastewater must never share the same conduit. At present, the various districts dispose of their waste through open gutters, old drains, and sometimes through the very same channels that are later used for washing and drinking. That has to end.”

He traced the first system toward the low ground beyond the city.

”The sewage network will rely primarily on gravity. Every conduit will be built with a calculated downward gradient, allowing the city’s natural slope to carry the waste without continuous magical assistance. Inspection shafts will be placed at fixed intervals so workers can clear blockages and repair damaged sections,” Ravian said, having reworked his project this time to make it somewhat more advanced—both to offer the capital an extraordinary opportunity and to strike while the iron was hot, since everyone would now be focused on pulling the capital out of its despair rather than questioning where the idea had come from.

”And where does all of it go?” Shmichael asked.

”To treatment basins outside the walls. The heavier waste settles out first. The remaining water then passes through layers of gravel, sand, charcoal, and selected magical filtration materials before being released downstream or reused for purposes that don’t require drinking water.”

”You’ll need mages?” Larette asked, her eyes shining.

”Yes, but not to move every drop through the system. Mages will seal the critical joints, reinforce the weak sections, regulate the magical filtration materials, and respond to emergencies. Using them for work that gravity can do on its own is an unnecessary expense.”

Patrick examined the map.

”Even a single network beneath the capital would cost a fortune.”

”Which is exactly why we don’t begin with the entire capital.”

’The same conversation again...’ Ravian still remembered it perfectly, even though some things had changed.

Ravian drew a circle around one of the severely damaged areas outside the zone the Gray Guard had sealed off.

”We start with a trial district. The streets here already need rebuilding, which means the cost of opening them up is unavoidable either way. We build one complete system, record the construction costs, then compare disease rates, maintenance expenses, land values, and commercial activity before and after completion.”

”And who pays for it?” Patrick asked.

”The nobles and the capital first—they’ll be the ones running to us for the chance to take part in this development project at the earliest opportunity,” Ravian said.

Then he continued.

”Households and businesses that request private connections pay an installation fee and a recurring maintenance fee. Workshops that produce large volumes of waste pay according to volume. Public access points remain funded by the district and the project’s commercial revenue.”

Ravian added several marks along the streets.

”The value of the surrounding land will rise as well the moment the district has reliable water and open waste no longer runs through it. House Viola can buy or secure the development rights before construction is announced,” Ravian said, a small smile appearing on his lips.

A faint trace of approval entered Patrick’s eyes.

”And what about the displaced?” Larette asked. ”Most of them can’t afford connection fees.”

”They don’t need to. The project needs labor, and the shelters are full of people who lost their homes and livelihoods at once. Pay them for digging, hauling stone, laying the ordinary sections, clearing the rubble from the damaged streets, and rebuilding whatever can be restored. Skilled engineers and Awakened laborers will handle the specialized work.”

”So the reconstruction effort provides the project’s workforce,” Shmichael said.

”And the project gives the displaced wages instead of forcing them to live on relief indefinitely,” Ravian answered. ”It eases the pressure on the shelters, brings commercial activity back, and gives the Crown a clear recovery program.”

Shmichael began raising practical questions: where the excavated soil would be taken, how construction would continue through the winter, and how they would prevent the officials collecting the fees from stealing a share of the revenue.

Ravian answered each one.

The excavated soil could be used to reinforce the flood embankments and fill in the damaged ground outside the crater’s perimeter. Deep excavation could continue through the cold months, while surface construction would be scheduled around the weather. Payments would be recorded through numbered tokens and verified by separate clerks who didn’t answer to one another.

Patrick listened without interrupting until Shmichael’s immediate objections ran out.

Then he looked at Ravian.

”The outline Shmichael brought me already contained most of this idea. You said something else had been added after the disaster.”

Ravian pulled a second sheet of paper toward himself.