Elaine’s lecture lasted one full hour, and by the end of it, Ludger felt as if time itself had been weaponized against him. She didn’t merely scold, she unleashed a steady, relentless torrent of motherly disappointment that hammered at him with pinpoint precision. Every sentence landed like a strike from a master martial artist: sharp, controlled, and devastatingly accurate.
She reminded him of his age. She reminded him of the rumors she’d heard. She reminded him that fighting a runic warrior capable of leveling a manor was not something any sane twelve-year-old should be doing. She reminded him that she had raised him better than this.
Halfway through, Ludger’s ears began to ring. Not metaphorically, actually ringing, as if his eardrums were staging a rebellion. By the forty-minute mark, he had already resigned himself to fate, leaning back in the chair like a prisoner awaiting sentencing. By the full hour, he found himself wondering how Verk’s thruster-fueled fists were somehow less painful than this continuous verbal barrage.
And then Elaine stood up, which was never a good sign.
“Come here,” she said.
Ludger lifted both hands, backing up a step. “Mother, let’s talk about th—”
No use. She seized him with the same grace and inevitability as a natural disaster.
Bear-Hugging, Rib-Breaking Three Thousand. Her special technique.
Her arms tightened around his torso in a crushing embrace that only a woman with terrifying physical conditioning, and deep maternal affection, could deliver. His ribs creaked so loudly he thought Maurien might hear them from Meronia. He wheezed out something resembling a breath as she pressed his head against her shoulder, voice soft and trembling with relief beneath the steel.
“I heard everything,” she murmured, fingers tightening in his hair. “All the rumors. Every terrifying detail. And I was worried… but I knew you’d come home. Somehow, I always know.”
Ludger managed to gasp out between strangled breaths, “I—was doing—better—back there—than I am—right now—”
Elaine ignored that and squeezed harder before finally releasing him. Ludger stumbled back, clutching his ribs like a wounded soldier. She took a sip of her tea as if nothing unusual had happened.
“Don’t exaggerate,” she told him. “I didn’t break anything vital.”
He muttered something unflattering under his breath. That was when the twins returned, Arash and Elle, bursting into the room with enough energy to power a runic carriage. They threw themselves at him once again, this time climbing him like a tree they intended to conquer.
“LUDGIE!”
“PLAY!”
They wrapped their little arms around him, pulling at his sleeves, hanging from his waist, tugging at him with the enthusiasm only toddlers possessed. Ludger shot them a betrayed look.
“Traitors,” he said flatly, even as he reached down and hooked his fingers around their tiny sides.
Then he started tickling. The twins shrieked in laughter instantly, wriggling wildly as they tried to escape and cling to him at the same time. Their giggles filled the room, bouncing off the walls like tiny fireworks of joy.
Elaine, despite everything, watched with a small, warm smile peeking through her attempt at stern dignity. And as Ludger found himself kneeling on the floor with two hysterical toddlers hanging off him, even the bruised ache in his ribs couldn’t fully mask the sense of relief settling inside him. He was home. And for the first time in weeks, he let himself relax.
Dinner was already simmering when Arslan pushed open the door to the house, shoulders sagging and eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. His cloak was damp with sweat and dust, and he carried the unmistakable aura of a man who had wrestled with paperwork, logistics, and bureaucratic nonsense for far longer than any sane person should.
He stepped into the dining room, then froze the moment he spotted Ludger sitting at the table, alive, intact, and casually feeding Arash a spoonful of soup like nothing had happened.
“…So,” Arslan said slowly, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “are you done playing spy in another country, while making enemies of powerful people left and right?”
Ludger shrugged. “Hey, they picked a fight with me first. Probably jealous of my good looks. Inherited that from Mother, you know.”
Elaine didn’t even look up from her ladle. “Butter me up all you like, it doesn’t work anymore.”
Ludger held up a finger. “…Yet.”
Elaine flicked a pea at him. Arshan sat down with a long groan, elbow on the table as he reached for a cup of water. “I swear, every time you leave, the guild turns into a madhouse. One month without you and I’m solving twenty tiny crises a day. Do you know how fast paperwork piles up when nobody’s around to blame problems on?”
Ludger blinked. “I… didn’t think that was my job.”
“It isn’t,” Arslan said, gesturing tiredly, “but everyone assumes you’ll fix magical problems, logistical problems, structural problems, interpersonal problems, and occasionally emotional problems. When you’re gone, they realize I’m the one stuck with everything.”
Ludger gave a short, unsympathetic nod. “Sounds rough. I was fighting a runic murder-machine, by the way.”
“Yes, yes, I heard,” Arslan muttered, waving a hand. “And thank you for not dying, but that doesn’t clear you from the paperwork you created.”
Elaine set the last dish on the table and sat down with a serene smile, which somehow made Arslan straighten his posture like a student caught slacking.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Ludger leaned back. “So, guild was really that bad while I was gone?”
“Oh, the guild was the same,” Arslan said. “Problems come in, problems go out. But you weren’t here to solve minor issues left and right, so they stacked up like mad. Also—”
He sighed again, heavier this time.
“Viola’s birthday is next month. And I need everything in the territory stable before then. No monster outbreaks. No trade disruptions. No nobles causing a mess. Nothing. I have to make sure everything is as secure as possible.”
Ludger raised an eyebrow. “Even more now than usual?”
Arslan gave him a pointed look. “Yes. Especially now. With the Rodericks gone and half the Senate pretending they never existed, tensions are rising. Viola deserves a peaceful birthday. I intend to make sure she gets one.”
Ludger exhaled, nodding slowly. “Alright. I’ll help. Just give me a week to recover.”
Arslan snorted. “You’ll get two days.”
Elaine added, “And you’ll spend the first one cleaning the yard.”
Ludger stared at her. “…I literally just survived a catastrophic mana explosion.”
Elaine stirred her tea. “And the yard still needs cleaning.”
Arash and Elle nodded aggressively in agreement, mimicking their mother’s stern expression. Ludger slumped.
Dinner continued with laughter, warmth, relentless teasing, and the kind of comfort only home could offer. Despite everything, the war, the politics, the chaos, Lionfang felt like a safe place again. And Ludger, rib aches and all, finally let himself enjoy it.
Ludger tried, he really did, to give himself three full days of rest.
He made it a grand total of half a day.
By mid-morning of the first day, he was already sprawled on his bed, staring at the ceiling like it had personally offended him. His brain refused to shut up. Every time he closed his eyes, ideas started piling up in stacks: training plans, tunnel expansions, assassination contingencies, guild upgrades, layouts, merchant opportunities.
By the time his headache kicked in, he understood something very important: Resting was physically impossible. His brain simply wouldn’t allow it. With a groan, he got up, put on some decent clothes, and headed to the guild.
He walked along the stone path toward the training grounds, expecting to find his second group of recruits practicing Splash or drilling basic mana control…
Instead, he found them pelting each other with miniaturized versions of Splash like they were reenacting some bizarre water-mage version of dodgeball.
It seemed the assignment had been not only completed, but weaponized.
Ludger crossed his arms, watching them with mild disappointment and mild amusement. He let them enjoy themselves. They had earned it. And honestly, seeing them act like normal young brats for once made him feel strangely proud. After a few minutes, he walked past them and entered the guildhall.
The moment he opened the door, the smell of alcohol hit him like a hammer. Loud laughter echoed from the bar area. He didn’t even need to look to know who it was.
But he still did, just to confirm. Kharnek. Harold. Kaela. The legendary trio of terrible decisions.
They were neck-deep in what appeared to be their twenty-seventh “friendly drinking competition.” Kharnek was pounding the table and laughing so loudly half the guild shook. Kaela was already leaning back in her chair with a grin that promised future chaos. Harold, poor Harold, was slumped over the table, blinking at his cup like it had betrayed him.
Kharnek spotted Ludger and raised a massive hand. “Ludger! You return! Come take a drink! We celebrate your survival!”
Kaela saluted him lazily with her mug. “Welcome back, boss! Want in? Harold’s about to pass out in under ten minutes, new record!”
Harold let out a weak groan. “I, never learn…”
Ludger rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. He had tried to rest. He had tried to take it easy. But clearly, the world wasn’t going to let him. And honestly? He was fine with that.
Work was easier than thinking. The guild was home. And seeing familiar idiots doing familiar idiot things… somehow made the world feel normal again. Ludger took a seat at the bar, folded his arms, and said:
“What did I miss this time?”
Three sets of eyes sparkled with the promise of trouble. It was going to be a long day, but at least he wasn’t bored anymore.
Ludger rested his elbows on the counter, eyeing the three troublemakers. Then he turned to Kaela specifically, raising an eyebrow with the precision of a man who had been waiting for the perfect opportunity.
“So,” he began casually, “you doing okay? You were awfully quick to run away when we got home.”
Kaela froze mid-sip, eyes widening just a fraction.
“…She’s not here, right?”
Ludger blinked, expression innocent. “Elaine? No, she’s not tied to the house or anything.”
Kaela stared harder.
“She can move,” Ludger continued, leaning in, “anywhere she wants.”
Kaela slowly lowered her cup. “…Meaning…?”
“Meaning wherever the twins want to go,” Ludger finished.
The color drained from her face. She immediately ducked behind a chair.
“Why didn’t you say so earlier!? Where is she now!? Is she behind me!?”
Ludger watched her flail with mild satisfaction. “If she wanted to interrogate you, she’d already be here.”
Kaela whimpered. Kharnek roared with laughter and slapped the table so hard one of the mugs fell over.
Ludger left her to her panic attack and glanced at the northerner. “Speaking of people not around… where’s Aronia?”
Kharnek straightened, still chuckling. “The tree-woman? Working with Yvar, I think. Underground warehouse.”
Kaela peeked from behind the chair arm, recovering just enough to be nosy. “Why? You miss your healing teacher?” she teased, grin returning.
Ludger shook his head. “No. I wanted to ask her something.”
Kaela crawled out from her hiding spot—just enough to lean on the table. “Ooh? What is it? Another sculpture? Don’t tell me you’re planning on putting a giant statue of her in front of the guild.”
“…Actually, yes.”
Kaela blinked. Then frowned deeply. “Why Aronia? Are you giving special treatment to certain guild members now? Should I be jealous? Because I can be jealous. I’m very good at that.”
Ludger sighed and rubbed his temple. “It’s not favoritism. It’s a magical experiment.”
Kaela tilted her head, confusion turning into curiosity. “A magical experiment?”
“Exactly,” Ludger said. “And once you see the results… you’ll understand it.”
Kaela narrowed her eyes suspiciously but didn’t argue. Kharnek leaned forward, intrigued. Harold mumbled something into the table, possibly unconscious. Ludger stood up from the bar stool.
“Anyway,” he said, “I’m going to find Aronia.”
Kaela crossed her arms, still suspicious. “Hmph. Fine. But if you’re secretly building a giant Aronia shrine, I will complain to Elaine.”
Ludger didn’t slow his steps.
“I’ll take that risk.”
Behind him, Kharnek laughed again, Harold groaned into his spilled drink, and Kaela glared with renewed energy, already plotting how to get her own statue if Aronia got one. The day was picking up.
