Ludger followed at a distance, staying low between dunes, using the sea breeze to cover the sound of his steps.

When they stopped for the night near a cluster of boulders off the main road, he finally approached.

The guards—his own guildmates—had set up a small perimeter. They stood motionless in their heavy armor, torches flickering against steel, their faces hidden behind those ridiculous helmets.

Ludger stepped into the light, hood still low, scarf drawn high. The nearest warrior raised a hand, then froze as the firelight caught the green cloth.

A long pause.

Then Arslan—his father—lifted his helmet just enough to reveal his face.

“…You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Ludger stopped a few paces away, arms crossed. “What the hell was even that?”

Arslan blinked, half-smiling despite himself. “Define ‘that.’”

“The armor. The helmets. The whole silent entourage routine.” Ludger’s tone was low, annoyed but edged with disbelief. “You looked like some cult’s escort detail.”

Arslan rubbed a hand through his hair and sighed. “It’s called not drawing political attention, Luds. Torvares wants to inspect without showing who’s actually guarding her. If the Empire’s agents see Lionsguard insignia, it complicates things.”

“So you decided to play mysterious knights.”

“Worked, didn’t it?”

Ludger gave him a flat look. “You realize you confused the workers more than you impressed them, right?”

From behind the carriage, a familiar voice—Selene’s—snorted. “Told you the helmets were stupid.”

“It was a new experience,” Harold grumbled from somewhere in the dark.

Arslan shot them both a look, then turned back to Ludger. “What are you doing here anyway? You weren’t supposed to be anywhere near this coast for another week.”

“Plans changed.” Ludger stepped closer, lowering his hood but keeping his voice down. “Ironhand’s not just behind schedule—they’re experimenting. They’re using something in the water. Mana cores.”

Arslan’s expression hardened immediately. “You’re sure?”

“I’ve seen the crates. Opened the monsters. Same cores, same signature. Eighty percent sure.”

Selene leaned against the carriage, her helmet under one arm, expression sharpening. “And you didn’t think to tell us sooner?”

“I didn’t know you’d be here sooner,” Ludger said dryly. “You’re ten days ahead of schedule.”

Viola appeared at the carriage door, arms crossed, eyes sharp under the fading moonlight. “Good thing we were.”

Ludger sighed, half relieved, half resigned. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

The wind picked up, tossing sand across their boots. The distant sea whispered against the cliffs.

Arslan studied his son for a long moment. “All right,” he said finally. “Tomorrow, we move carefully. You’ll brief us on everything you’ve seen. Tonight—return, rest, and try not to cause more trouble.”

Ludger raised a brow. “Can’t promise that.”

His father smiled faintly. “Didn’t expect you to.”

The wagon creaked into motion, wheels groaning as it rolled down the moonlit road. The sea wind followed them inland, carrying faint of the waves. Inside the covered cart, the air was close, heavy with the scent of leather, oil, and faint tension.

Ludger sat across from Viola, arms crossed, hood still up. The others—Selene, Harold, and Aleia—rode their mounts alongside, keeping a slow pace. Cor dozed against a crate near the back, helmet tilted forward like a sleeping statue.

The silence stretched.

Finally, Ludger spoke. “So where are we staying?”

Arslan hesitated just a little too long. He adjusted the reins, eyes on the road. “The Hakuen manor.”

Ludger raised a brow. “Makes sense. They’re the hosts, after all.”

“Right,” Arslan said quickly. Too quickly.

Ludger squinted. “Why do you sound like you’re hiding a corpse in the basement?”

Arslan gave a tight smile, still staring straight ahead. “Just… logistics.”

“Uh-huh.”

The wagon bounced over a rut. Neither of them spoke for a few moments. Then Ludger sighed. “Drop the bombshell already.”

Arslan’s shoulders sagged like a man about to confess to something criminal. “Your mother came.”

Ludger blinked. Then stared. “No. Way.”

Arslan winced. “Way.”

“She wouldn’t have come without—” Ludger stopped mid-sentence, realization dawning. His voice dropped an octave. “The twins. You brought the twins to the coast?”

Arslan looked like he wanted to jump off the wagon and keep running until the sea took him. “She insisted. Said fresh air would be good for them. ‘Southern climate strengthens the lungs,’ she said. She also didn’t want not to see you for a year or two.”

Ludger pinched the bridge of his nose. “How the hell did she convince you of that?”

“She didn’t,” Arslan said flatly. “She told me. I just obeyed. I know my place in the household”

Ludger groaned. “You let the most terrifying woman bring two babies into a region crawling with mana-mutated fishmen.”

Arslan gave him a helpless shrug. “You try arguing with her when she’s already packed three bags, two cribs, and half the kitchen. Some people were loading the carriage before I even finished saying ‘no.’”

Ludger leaned back, covering his face with one hand. “You’re supposed to be the Guildmaster.”

“I am. And that’s why I know when I’m outmatched.”

Selene’s voice called from outside, muffled through the canvas. “Did you tell him yet?”

“Yes,” Arslan muttered.

“Good,” she said. “He was going to find out anyway when she starts ordering the Hakuen staff around.”

The wagon hit another bump, rocking slightly. Arslan adjusted his grip on the reins, eyes glinting with the ghost of a smile. “You’re taking this better than I expected.”

“I’m in shock,” Ludger said dryly. “Give it a minute.”

Arslan chuckled, but there was something weary in it. “It’s good she came, though. She wanted to see how we’re doing. And with everything happening, having her nearby… isn’t the worst thing.”

Ludger stared out through the flap at the moonlit horizon. “Unless she finds out what Ironhand’s actually doing.”

Arslan didn’t argue. He didn’t need to.

The wagon rolled on through the quiet night, its wheels whispering against the dirt road. In the distance, the lights of Hakuen manor flickered faintly on the cliffs—a beacon, and maybe a warning.

Ludger sighed again, already dreading the conversation to come. “If Mom brought the twins into this mess,” he muttered, “then the sea monsters better pray she doesn’t find them first.”

Arslan smiled faintly. “Trust me, son. So should Ironhand.”

Viola took her helmet off, hair tied back but messy from the day. She had that sharp, assessing look her grandfather wore when he was trying to fit new information into a political map. While Ludger leaned against the side wall, scarf loose and exhaustion finally starting to seep through.

After a while, Viola broke the quiet. “What about Gaius?”

Ludger blinked once, then glanced her way. “What about him?”

“Is he alive?” she asked. “He went missing right? We heard rumors.”

“He was,” Ludger said simply. “Almost dead too.”

Selene, riding beside the wagon, leaned close to the canvas. “You found him?”

“Found him chained on a fifty meters underground hideout.”

The lanternlight flickered as everyone stilled. Viola frowned. “By who?”

Ludger’s voice stayed calm, but there was a steel edge to it. “Aaron. Third in command of. Iron Stave guild. Turns out he was running an underworld guild out of Meira, probably with noble funding. Gaius got too close.”

Arslan’s hands tightened on the reins. “Aaron’s name came up before.”

Harold’s muffled voice came from outside the canvas. “How bad was it?”

Ludger looked out the small slit of window at the road ahead, eyes unfocused. “They had him drained dry. Mana-sealing chains—rune-forged, very rare. I barely got him out.”

Viola’s tone softened slightly. “You convinced him to return with you?”

Ludger shook his head. “Didn’t convince him. He said he owed me.”

Her brows furrowed. “Owed you?”

Ludger nodded once. “Two years ago, when that ambush hit us outside Meira—he was the one who stayed behind to investigate who sent them. That’s what got him caught.”

For a moment, even Selene was quiet.

“Anyway,” Ludger went on, voice even again, “he said he’d come soon enough. He needs time to recover and close loose ends. He’ll join us once he delivers Aaron’s body back to the guild.”

Viola leaned back, crossing her arms. “So he’s alive. And furious.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

Arslan exhaled slowly. “When he gets here, Ironhand’s going to regret every nail they hammered into that bridge.”

Ludger smirked faintly. “That’s the plan.”

The wagon hit a smoother stretch of road, and the sound of the sea faded behind them. The night outside was clear now, stars scattered across the horizon.

Selene called through the canvas again, her tone lighter. “You know, you could’ve waited for us before fighting a guild and digging through a mountain.”

Ludger gave a lazy shrug. “Would’ve been boring.”

Arslan shook his head but couldn’t hide a small smile. Viola’s expression softened, just for a heartbeat. “You really are insane,” she muttered.

“That runs in the family,” Arslan said dryly.

Ludger leaned back, eyes half-lidded, the faintest smirk tugging at his mouth. “You’re welcome for the head start.”

“Head start?” Viola asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “I handled the hard part. Now we just need to stop a syndicate, calm the sea, and keep Mom from getting too involved in this.”

That earned him a tired laugh from Selene and a groan from Arslan. The kind that said: this is exactly how trouble starts.

The wagon rolled on toward the faint glow of the Hakuen manor lights in the distance. And for the first time in days, Ludger let himself relax—just enough to pretend, for one night, that everything wasn’t about to explode again.

The Hakuen manor rose out of the coastal cliffs like something carved from moonlight. White stone walls gleamed faintly beneath the night sky, their edges softened by salt and wind. Thin lines of silver runes shimmered along the outer arches—defensive wards and climate stabilizers humming quietly against the sea breeze. The estate stretched across a series of terraces overlooking the water, its gardens dotted with lanterns that burned a calm, ocean-blue flame.

Even for a coastal noble house, it was too pristine. The sort of place that looked expensive simply by existing.

Ludger stepped off the wagon, boots crunching against the polished gravel. The air smelled faintly of jasmine and sea spray, and the low roar of waves echoed far below the cliffs.

“Guess this is home for now,” he muttered.

Arslan gave a grunt that sounded halfway between agreement and exhaustion. Viola was already walking toward the manor doors, two servants rushing ahead to announce their arrival. The Lionsguard followed in disciplined silence, helmets gleaming under the lantern light.

Ludger adjusted his scarf and stepped through the open entryway—and immediately felt the weight of her

presence.

Elaine didn’t need a title or aura to command attention. She simply was.

She stood at the base of the grand staircase, arms folded, wearing a travel gown that looked like it had been tailored to move in and fight in if necessary. Her hair caught the lanternlight. The calm on her face didn’t fool Ludger for a second; her eyes were sharp, appraising every face as if she’d been running the entire manor since she arrived.

Beside her sat Kharnek, looking utterly defeated. The hulking northerner’s braids were undone, his expression a perfect blend of fatigue and quiet suffering. Freyra wasn’t much better—slouched in her chair, armor half off, staring blankly at a cup of tea that had long since gone cold.

Ludger stopped at the threshold, trying not to laugh.

“Oh no,” he murmured. “She broke them.”

Elaine’s gaze flicked toward him instantly. “Ludger.”

“Mother,” he said, tone flat but careful, as though addressing a predator.

“You’re late.”

“You arrived early,” he countered. “And I arriver even earlier, so how I am late?

That earned the faintest twitch at the corner of her mouth. “You look terrible.”

“Thanks. You, on the other hand, seem to have destroyed the northerners’ morale in record time.”

Kharnek groaned from his chair, rubbing his face with one massive hand. “Your mother… is something else.”

“Guarding is a tough job, when the person you have to protect complains so much.

” Freyra muttered, eyes glazed. “She said discipline builds character.”

Elaine didn’t even blink. “It does.”

Arslan winced behind him. “I see she’s been productive.”

Elaine shot him a knowing look. “You’re welcome.”

He moved closer, bowing his head just slightly. “Good to see you, Mom.”

“You too, dear,” Elaine said, her voice softening a fraction. 

Behind them, Arslan coughed quietly. “We’ll discuss the mission details once everyone’s rested. For now—rooms, food, and whatever peace we can manage before dawn.”

Elaine turned toward him, expression unreadable. “Peace depends on whether my children remember how to behave.”

“Define behave,” Ludger muttered.

Elaine’s eyes narrowed, but her lips curved faintly. “Exactly.”

The manor staff hurried to prepare chambers, the sound of footsteps and clinking dishes echoing through the marble hall. Outside, the waves crashed against the cliffs below, steady and rhythmic—like a warning that calm never lasted long in the Lionsguard’s orbit.

Ludger glanced once more at Kharnek and Freyra, both still slumped in silent defeat, and murmured under his breath, “Welcome to the family.”

Freyra groaned without lifting her head. “You didn’t warn me she was worse than your father.”

Ludger smiled faintly. “That’s the point.”

Dinner came sooner than expected.

The Hakuen manor’s great dining hall was vast—white stone, high ceilings, and broad windows overlooking the moonlit sea. A chandelier of carved coral hung above the long oak table, glowing faintly with embedded mana crystals that pulsed in rhythm with the tide outside. The air smelled of roasted fish, lemon, and faintly of salt carried in by the evening wind.

Servants moved quietly, setting silver dishes before them—grilled fish, bread brushed with oil and herbs, a few southern fruits Ludger didn’t recognize. They worked with the same precision as soldiers, all quick glances and bowed heads, careful not to draw attention.

It took Ludger only a few minutes to notice what wasn’t there.

No host. No member of House Hakuen.

He ate in silence for a while, but curiosity eventually won. “So,” he said, glancing down the table toward Viola, “where’s the family whose house this is?”

Viola looked up from her plate, tone calm but clipped. “Lucius was here this morning. He left before noon.”

“Left?” Ludger asked. “Just like that?”

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