The inn they found sat across from a row of steam vents that hissed softly through the night. Warm light spilled from its windows, cutting through the mist that never seemed to leave the streets of Coria. The rooms were modest, clean sheets, iron basins, rune lamps that flickered whenever a generator refired, but the smell of real food from downstairs was enough to pull everyone back to the common room after they’d unpacked.
The tavern below was lively but contained. Workers in soot-streaked coats and young scholars in ink-stained robes drank from the same tables, their laughter drowned beneath the ever-present hum of the city. Golems weren’t allowed inside; that alone made the place feel human.
Ludger and his group claimed a corner booth away from the crowd. The food arrived fast, stew thick with grain, spiced root mash, and strips of charred meat served on metal plates that kept the heat steady through a mild enchantment.
Linne and Dalan had left after escorting them there, off to file permits and prepare their “lesson schedule.” Once their chatter faded, Maurien leaned back in his chair and flicked two fingers in a subtle gesture. The air around them warped slightly, the faint pressure of a muffling ward settling into place. The tavern noise dulled, leaving only the quiet scrape of spoons and the distant hum of the city’s rune grid.
Maurien stirred his drink once, then looked at Ludger. “You’ve been quiet today,” he said. “Even for you.”
Ludger didn’t look up from his bowl. “That’s normal.”
“Too quiet,” Maurien countered. “You didn’t care for sightseeing, but you also didn’t shoot them down the way you usually do. You let them talk. That’s not like you.”
Kharnek snorted. “Maybe the boy’s finally learned to be polite.”
Kaela smirked over the rim of her mug. “Or maybe he’s plotting something, and politeness is the bait.”
Ludger sighed through his nose, setting his spoon down. “I just didn’t want them thinking we came here to steal anything,” he said simply. “They’re already protective enough. Acting too eager to see their workshops would make them suspicious.”
Maurien’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And you think keeping your distance helps?”
“It did,” Ludger said. “Now they’re the ones insisting I stay and learn. Easier that way.”
Kaela raised an eyebrow. “You really think you’ll get something useful out of a few academy lectures?”
Ludger gave a small shrug. “Probably not in their eyes. They don’t believe knowledge like theirs can be taught quickly. Most of them think true mastery takes decades, rigid systems, certifications, ranks.” His lips twitched faintly, almost a smirk but not quite. “They underestimate how fast someone can learn when they don’t have to follow the rules.”
Maurien leaned back, his tone thoughtful. “So you’ll play along. Watch their lessons, nod when they talk, and see what falls through the cracks.”
“Something like that.”
Kharnek tore into a piece of bread, crumbs scattering across the table. “All this sneaking around for ideas and classes,” he muttered. “In my tribe, if you want to learn, you challenge the teacher and take the knowledge by force.”
Ludger glanced at him. “That method doesn’t work in a place where everyone hides behind paperwork.”
Kaela laughed. “He’s right. Here, the most dangerous weapon isn’t a blade, it’s a signature.”
The ward hummed faintly around them as Maurien finished his drink. “Good,” he said finally. “Because if you’re going to dig into their secrets, better to do it under their invitation. Just don’t underestimate them, kid. These people didn’t build this city out of charity.”
“I know,” Ludger said, his tone even. “But if they’re as proud of their knowledge as they claim, then they won’t notice when someone learns just by watching.”
Kaela leaned back, grin returning. “You really can’t resist poking at things, can you?”
Ludger picked up his spoon again, calm as ever. “Not when the lessons are free.”
Maurien chuckled low. “Then we’ll make sure the price doesn’t come later.”
Ludger pushed his empty plate aside and leaned back, arms folded loosely. He glanced across the table. “What about you?” he asked.
Maurien raised an eyebrow. “What about me?”
“You said it yourself,” Ludger said, tone steady. “These people didn’t build this city out of charity. So what’s your plan? Stay behind, make sure Dalan and Linne hold up their end of the investigation? Or head back to the Empire once the lessons are done?”
Maurien didn’t answer right away. He poured a bit more of the bitter brown drink into his cup, swirling it absently as he thought. The lamplight caught faint lines at the corners of his eyes, not age, just the habit of someone who’d spent too many years watching others make mistakes.
After a moment, he exhaled. “I’ll stay for a while,” he said. “A week or two, maybe. No longer. If I linger too much, people will start asking why a foreign mage’s shadow keeps crossing their records.”
Kaela tilted her head. “You don’t think you could blend in?”
Maurien snorted softly. “I could. But I’m not here to play scholar. My job’s to keep certain promises breathing, not to drown in lectures. Once I’ve made sure Linne and Dalan are cooperating, that they actually pass what they find back to Yvar and Torvares, I’m gone.”
Kharnek grunted in approval. “Good. Cities like this rot you if you stay too long. Air’s too thick with tricks.”
Ludger nodded once, expression neutral. “Fair enough. At the very least, we need to see how things run here before we judge them. No point building plans off secondhand reports.”
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Maurien’s gaze flicked toward him, curious. “You really mean to sit through those lessons?”
“Every one they’ll let me into,” Ludger said. “If I’m lucky, I’ll learn something useful. If not, at least I’ll see what they hide between the lines.”
Maurien smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Just don’t start thinking like them, kid. The League believes understanding something means owning it.”
Ludger’s reply was a dry murmur. “That’s fine. I’m only borrowing.”
The table went quiet after that. The others finished their drinks, the tavern’s background hum swelling again as the night deepened. Beyond the window, the city’s blue veins pulsed steady, a mechanical heartbeat under the fog.
For now, they would watch, listen, and learn. And when the time came, they’d decide whether the League’s brilliance was worth the chains it hid behind.
Kharnek slammed his empty mug down with a booming laugh that earned a few wary glances from nearby tables. “Enough talk of lessons and secrets,” he declared, the grin splitting his face wide. “I’m going tavern-hopping!”
Kaela perked up instantly. “That actually sounds like a great idea.”
Ludger blinked. “…What.”
Kharnek leaned back, proud as if he’d just announced a grand campaign. “I’ll go around and challenge all the best drinkers in the city! See if these scholars can hold their liquor better than they hold their breath!”
Ludger slowly dragged a hand down his face. “We’re here to secure trade routes, track smuggling networks, and investigate missing people—and your idea of fieldwork is getting drunk in every bar within walking distance?”
Kaela grinned into her mug. “Think of it as cultural research.”
“Yeah,” Kharnek added with a nod. “If we learn how they drink, we learn how they think!”
Ludger just sighed, muttering something about regretting every decision that led to this conversation. “Fine,” he said finally. “Just don’t start a diplomatic incident before breakfast.”
The northerner thumped his chest proudly. “You have my word! I’ll win every contest peacefully.”
“Wonderful,” Ludger said dryly. “That’s what worries me.”
He turned his attention back to Maurien, who had been quietly finishing his drink and pretending to be invisible. “You,” Ludger said, pointing at him. “I’ve got a better idea for you.”
Maurien looked up, one eyebrow raised. “Oh?”
“You should work with the delivery team for a while,” Ludger said. “Keep close to Dalan and Linne. You’ll get information straight from them, see how their operations run, and you’ll be in a good position to watch for anything suspicious. And if the League’s got anything worth hiding, their logistics lines will show it.”
Maurien leaned back, thoughtful. “Not a bad plan. They already think I’m harmless enough. I’ll tag along, help them inspect shipments, make sure nothing ‘accidentally’ goes missing. Easier to dig when they think you’re just doing paperwork.”
“Exactly,” Ludger said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Besides, everyone knows you’re only interested in bandits. That’ll keep suspicion off your back.”
Maurien’s mouth curved in a crooked grin. “You’re not wrong. If anyone asks, I’m here chasing raiders.”
Ludger’s smirk sharpened. “Perfect. Then it’s time for the Lone Terror to make a name for himself here too.”
Kaela raised her mug with a laugh. “I’ll drink to that!”
“Don’t you start,” Ludger said, pointing at her, but she was already clinking her cup against Kharnek’s.
“Too late,” she said cheerfully. “Fieldwork starts tonight.”
Ludger shook his head, half amused, half exasperated, and leaned back in his chair. “Great,” he muttered. “One chasing drunks, one being chased by them, and one infiltrating the League. I’m surrounded by professionals.”
Maurien chuckled under his breath. “You wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Ludger didn’t answer, but the faint smirk at the corner of his mouth said everything.
Morning came with the faint hum of runic engines outside the inn — the same steady pulse that never seemed to stop in Coria. The sky was the usual pale gray, light filtered through mist thick with mana smoke.
Ludger sat across from Maurien in the small dining hall, both working through a simple breakfast of dark bread, boiled eggs, and something that might have been coffee if one ignored the faint metallic aftertaste. Two untouched chairs sat at their table.
Kharnek and Kaela were nowhere to be found.
Maurien arched an eyebrow as he buttered his bread. “Think they made it back to a bed?”
Ludger didn’t even look up. “Doubt it.”
He took a sip from his mug, expression flat. “They’re probably still drinking somewhere, or passed out under one of the tavern tables.”
Maurien chuckled quietly. “Should we worry?”
“No,” Ludger said. “Kharnek’s too stubborn to lose a fight, and Kaela’s too unpredictable to start one she can’t win. If anyone tried to pick a fight, they’d regret it before they hit the floor. We would have heard about it.”
He set his mug down and added dryly, “Besides, Dalan and Linne are well known around here. People will avoid causing problems for anyone traveling with them. Influence is a better shield than armor in this city.”
Maurien grunted in agreement, finishing his meal. “Fair point. Still, I’d pay to see a League drinker try to outlast a northerner.”
Ludger smirked faintly. “That’s not a bet. That’s a body count.”
Once they finished eating, they stood and gathered their things by habit, coats, gloves, the faint sheen of readiness that came with never feeling completely at ease in foreign territory. Outside, the streets were already alive: scholars moving in clusters, apprentices hauling crates, and rune carts gliding silently along embedded rails.
They stopped at the corner, where the roads split, one toward the workshops near the academy, the other toward the main foundries.
“I’ll go check in with the delivery lines,” Maurien said, adjusting the strap of his pack. “See what Dalan and Linne’s assistants are moving today, maybe catch a hint of what they aren’t talking about.”
Ludger nodded. “Good. I’ll handle the lectures.”
Maurien gave him a sidelong look. “You mean sit through them.”
“Handle,” Ludger repeated flatly.
Maurien’s smirk showed briefly. “Try not to terrify the professors.”
“No promises.”
They split paths without another word, Maurien fading into the early bustle of the industrial quarter while Ludger turned toward the Academy’s shadow.
When he reached Dalan and Linne’s workshop, the copper roof gleamed faintly in the mist, and the two engineers were already waiting by the loading platform, surrounded by assistants hauling crates of demonstration gear.
“Ah, Vice Guildmaster!” Dalan greeted, voice carrying the practiced warmth of a man running on excitement instead of sleep. “Right on time. We were just preparing to head out.”
Linne handed off a bundle of schematics to a young apprentice before turning to him. “You’re in luck. Today’s our rotation day. We’re covering a full spread of disciplines for visiting scholars.”
“Mechanics,” Dalan listed, counting on his fingers, “rune theory, mana synthesis, and cross-discipline systems. A proper crash course in how the League keeps the world running.”
Ludger rubbed his chin, eyes flicking between them. “One lesson for each… sounds like a good start for the day.”
Linne grinned. “Efficient thinking. You’ll fit right in.”
“If you say so,” Ludger said, but his tone held that faint edge of amusement.
They led him through the academy’s archway and into the inner corridors, where the walls pulsed faintly with embedded sigils and the air smelled of oil and ozone. Ahead, the day’s first lecture was already beginning, the sound of gears clanking in rhythm with spell chants echoing down the hall.
As the doors opened, Ludger stepped into the light of the lecture hall, ready to see what this city’s pride in progress was really worth.
