The runic carriage rolled to a smooth stop outside the familiar inn just as the moon reached its peak. Midnight.

  Ludger stepped out into the chill air, his boots crunching against the cobblestone road. The lamps outside the inn burned low, their runes flickering lazily, almost asleep themselves. It was quiet. Too quiet, even for Coria at this hour. The usual noise of mana pumps and clattering gears was distant, dulled by the heavy night fog.

  He approached the front desk, where the innkeeper was half-dozing over a ledger. The man blinked, then straightened when he recognized the scarf, the coat, and the unbothered stare.

  “Ah—Vice Guildmaster Ludger, wasn’t it? You’ve been here before with the Lionsguard shipment.”

  Ludger gave a short nod. “Some of my acquaintances are staying here again. I’ll find them myself.”

  The innkeeper hesitated for a moment, then smiled faintly and gestured down the hall. “Of course. They checked in two weeks ago. Third floor, second hallway on the right.”

  Ludger didn’t waste a word. He climbed the creaking stairs, each step echoing through the stillness. The faint hum of the city’s runic grid bled through the walls, distant, steady, almost like a heartbeat beneath the stone.

  When he reached the hallway, he noticed it immediately: one door slightly ajar, a faint glimmer of mana leaking through the crack. His fingers brushed the handle on instinct, but before he could open it,

  “...Took you long enough.”

  Maurien’s voice came from the shadowed doorway.

  The master mage leaned lazily against the frame, hair slightly disheveled, eyes sharp despite the hour. The faint ripple of wind mana curled around him like smoke.

  Ludger didn’t flinch. “You always wait in the dark?”

  Maurien’s smirk was tired but genuine. “Only when the people I’m expecting arrive late.”

  Ludger stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You found something.”

  Maurien’s grin faded. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “And you’re going to want to hear this inside.”

  The door creaked wider as he gestured for Ludger to enter. The air beyond carried the faint metallic tang of mana residue and burnt incense, signs of wards recently used. Whatever this meeting was about, it wasn’t going to be a short one.

  Ludger stepped inside the room, the soft click of the door behind him cutting the hallway silence. The air inside smelled faintly of steel and ozone—signs of a mage keeping wards active for too long. Maurien gestured for him to sit, but Ludger remained standing.

  “Where are the others?” he asked, voice even.

  Maurien ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. “Kaela’s with the prisoners. Dalan and Linne arranged a private holding cell beneath one of the foundries, it’s sealed with enough runes to hold a dragon, so she volunteered to… ‘supervise.’”

  Ludger raised an eyebrow. “Supervise,” he repeated flatly.

  Maurien’s mouth curved in a humorless grin. “Her version of it, yeah. The others, Derrin, Mira, Taron, Rhea, and Callen, are asleep. They’ve been running errands across the city for days. Figured they earned some rest.”

  Ludger crossed his arms. “And you didn’t think to send something useful through the tunnels? A letter, report, anything?”

  Maurien leaned back in his chair, expression cooling. “I wanted to. But this isn’t something I could put on paper. Too risky.”

  Ludger frowned. “Risky how?”

  Maurien’s gaze sharpened. “Because the prisoners aren’t the usual low-life smugglers or hired blades. They’re connected, well connected. Some of the names Kaela pulled from them have ties straight to the Imperial Capital.”

  The air between them seemed to tighten.

  Ludger’s eyes narrowed, his tone dropping a shade colder. “As expected,” he muttered. “Nobles.”

  Maurien nodded grimly. “Yeah. And not the kind that play politics from a distance. These ones are bankrolling operations across both borders. Weapons, potions, information, things that shouldn’t move without official approval. And they’re moving a lot.”

  Ludger’s jaw flexed slightly as he processed that. “So that’s why you kept it quiet.”

  Maurien gave a slight nod. “The moment this leaks, half the League starts asking questions and the Empire starts denying everything. We needed you here first.”

  Ludger exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable. “Good call,” he said. “Let’s see just how deep this hole goes.”

  Morning came slow, filtered through the gray mist that always hung over Coria’s skyline. The runic veins in the streets hummed softly as the city stirred awake, their glow bleeding faint blue through the inn’s windows.

  Downstairs, the recruits, Derrin, Mira, Taron, Rhea, and Callen, were gathered around the breakfast table, half awake, half proud that their last mission had gone so smoothly. The mood lifted further when they spotted a familiar figure stepping out of the hallway.

  “Vice Guildmaster!” Rhea said, grinning as she nearly tripped over her chair. “You’re here already?”

  Ludger gave a small nod, expression calm but distant. The faint circles under his eyes suggested he hadn’t slept long.

  Mira leaned forward, relieved. “So it’s true then—Maurien and Kaela really found something?”

  “They did,” Ludger confirmed. “They’re dealing with it now.”

  Taron’s eyes brightened. “Good. I was worried when we didn’t get word for days, they are so secretive. It is about the stuff from the last time, right?”

  Ludger glanced across the table, meeting each of their faces in turn. “You won’t have to worry much longer,” he said evenly. “Because you’re heading home.”

  That earned him a few blank stares.

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  “Wait—what?” Callen asked, frowning.

  “You’re done here,” Ludger said. “Pack your things, gather the empty containers, and return to Lionfang. Tell Yvar and my father to start preparing the next shipment. I’ll handle things here with Maurien and Kaela.”

  Rhea slumped back in her chair, groaning. “You mean we come all the way here just to get sent back?”

  Ludger’s tone stayed dry. “You came here to deliver the shipment. You did. Now it’s time to do it again.”

  Taron sighed, already realizing there was no point arguing. “Figures.”

  Mira shot him a faint smile. “At least it’s home. And better air.”

  Ludger crossed his arms, watching them with that quiet authority that ended most protests before they started. “Be ready within the hour,” he said. “The sooner you leave, the better.”

  As he turned to head upstairs again, Rhea muttered under her breath, “He comes back, says hi, and immediately kicks us out…”

  Mira chuckled softly. “Welcome back to the Lionsguard.”

  Ludger heard it, of course, but he didn’t slow down. There was too much to do, and far too many questions waiting beneath Coria’s polished surface.

  None of them argued. They respected Ludger too much for that.

  The five recruits exchanged quiet looks before nodding in unison. They had fought beside him enough times to know when to keep their mouths shut. The Frost Labyrinth had tested them all, its freezing corridors, the endless waves of frost skeletons, the moments where one mistake meant someone wouldn’t come back. Ludger had saved their lives more times than any of them could count.

  If he said it was time to go home, then that meant it was the best option. Taron started gathering their things first, the others following his lead without another word. Even Rhea, who normally had a smart remark ready for everything, stayed quiet as she tied her gauntlets back on. There was no resentment, just trust, solid and earned the hard way.

  Ludger watched them from the corner of the hall as they prepared to leave. Their movements were clean, coordinated, efficient. Trained. They weren’t the green recruits he’d first drilled into shape months ago. They were professionals now, Lionsguard through and through.

  A faint, almost imperceptible smile crossed his lips. Not bad, he thought. They actually learned.

  That quiet pride settled in his chest as he turned away, heading back toward the stairs. He’d done right by them so far, no losses, no disasters, no broken promises. Then, halfway up the steps, he caught himself frowning.

  ...Maybe I shouldn’t think like that.

  The last thing he needed was to tempt fate by assuming he had everything under control. In his experience, the world loved to punish confidence with irony, and the more certain he felt, the nastier the surprise waiting ahead tended to be.

  He sighed softly, muttering under his breath as he reached the landing.

  “Yeah… I definitely just jinxed myself.”

  Then he straightened his coat and kept walking, because whether he had or not, there was still work to do.

  Once the recruits were gone, boots fading into the morning streets and wagon wheels rolling toward the West, Ludger turned his attention back to business.

  Maurien was waiting near the end of the hallway, arms crossed, a faint smirk on his face. “They’re on their way?”

  Ludger nodded once. “Yeah. Back to Lionfang.”

  “Good,” Maurien said. “Less noise around here. Come on. You should see what Kaela’s been doing.”

  Ludger raised an eyebrow. “You sound almost proud.”

  Maurien snorted. “Proud’s not the word. Impressed, maybe. She’s good, terrifyingly so.”

  The two left the inn and moved through the quiet morning streets of Coria, their steps echoing against the metal-and-stone mix of the city’s architecture. Steam curled up from vents in the roads, the air carrying that faint metallic tang of mana combustion.

  Ludger walked with hands in his coat pockets, expression calm but thoughtful. “We got lucky she came with the recruits,” he said. “Would’ve taken twice as long to get any answers without her... unconventional skills.”

  Maurien’s smirk deepened. “Unconventional’s a polite way to put it.”

  They turned down a side street toward the lower foundry district. The sound of distant hammering and the low thrum of mana engines grew louder as they neared the holding area that Dalan and Linne had provided, a reinforced sublevel chamber beneath one of their workshops.

  Ludger slowed as they reached the stairwell entrance. “Remind me again,” he said dryly, “why did you agree to let her handle interrogations?”

  Maurien shrugged, his tone casual. “Because she gets results.”

  Ludger gave him a sidelong look. “And because you didn’t want to do it yourself.”

  Maurien didn’t deny it. “I don’t enjoy handling nobles underlings in denial,” he said. “She, on the other hand, thinks it’s fun.”

  Ludger exhaled through his nose. “Right. Fun.”

  As they descended into the dimly lit corridor, the air grew colder, cool stone mixed with the faint scent of alchemical herbs and ozone.

  He could already hear her voice from down the hall. Smooth, amused, and laced with that dangerous playfulness that never quite disappeared, even during serious business.

  Ludger rubbed his temple. “She’s gotten better recently,” he muttered, “but she’s still herself.”

  Maurien chuckled under his breath. “Wouldn’t have her any other way.”

  Ludger gave him a flat look. “You say that now. Wait until she decides to experiment with you next.”

  Maurien only grinned wider. “She wouldn’t dare.”

  Ludger didn’t bother replying. He knew better. And judging from the sharp tone of Kaela’s voice echoing down the hall, followed by a man’s muffled scream, Maurien was about to be proven wrong.

  When they reached the last door of the corridor, Maurien gave Ludger a brief nod before pushing it open.

  The air inside was thick with mana residue and the faint scent of herbs, something sharp, like crushed mint and copper. At the center of the dim room stood Kaela, her arms crossed, leaning lazily against the wall as a man convulsed on the floor of a reinforced cell.

  He wasn’t bleeding. No burns, no cuts, just sweat dripping from his temples and his body trembling uncontrollably. His eyes were wide but unfocused, and a strip of cloth was tied between his teeth to muffle the choked noises leaving his throat.

  The runes lining the walls pulsed faintly, feeding a soft breeze through the cell like a whispering heartbeat.

  Kaela looked up the moment they entered, and her lips curved into that trademark, mischievous smile. “Well, look who finally decided to show up.”

  Ludger stopped beside Maurien, his expression unreadable but his tone flat. “I see you’re keeping busy.”

  Kaela tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Don’t look so cold, Vice Guildmaster. You could at least say good morning before glaring at me like that.”

  He gestured toward the prisoner without changing his tone. “How exactly do you want me to act when there’s a half-naked man convulsing on the ground with a rag in his mouth?”

  Kaela’s smile widened, utterly unbothered. “Oh, that?” She waved a hand dismissively. “I’m not hurting him. Just… playing with his senses a little.”

  Ludger raised an eyebrow. “A little?”

  “Mm-hm,” she said sweetly, stepping closer to the cell as a faint breeze swirled around her. “He can’t tell the difference between sound and touch right now. Every word I say feels like thunder crawling through his skin. Harmless, really. Just very persuasive.”

  Maurien folded his arms, watching the display with mild amusement. “I told you she was efficient.”

  Ludger pinched the bridge of his nose. “Efficient isn’t the word I’d use.”

  Kaela glanced over her shoulder, smiling at him through the dim light. “Oh? Then what word would you use?”

  “Unsupervised,” he muttered.

  She laughed, clearly taking that as a compliment. “You wound me, Vice Guildmaster. I’ve already gotten him to talk about two of their routes.”

  Ludger’s frown deepened slightly as he studied the man on the ground. “And you’re sure he’ll survive this?”

  Kaela shrugged. “If he’s lucky.”

  Maurien snorted. “Told you she’s still herself.”

  Ludger sighed quietly. “Yeah,” he said, tone dry. “Unfortunately.”