When the wagon crossed into the Torvares state, the change in atmosphere was immediate.

The roads were smoother, the fields carefully tended, and the banners of House Torvares fluttered proudly along the stone watchtowers. Even Kharnek, who’d seen his share of grandholds, gave a low whistle.

“So much polish,” he muttered under his breath. “Makes my campfires look like royal feasts.”

Beside him, Kaela leaned forward, her eyes scanning the elegant architecture and busy markets of Meronia, the city of the Torvares domain. The city was livelier than Ludger remembered, merchants shouting prices, children chasing through the cobblestone streets, and armored guards patrolling with a sense of order that spoke of wealth and stability.

Kaela whispered, “Guess the labyrinth trade’s doing wonders for their economy.”

Ludger nodded slightly. “Froststeel, mana cores, and the southern shipments. Torvares has been growing fast.”

She smirked. “And I thought Lionfang was impressive.”

The wagon rolled through the outer gates, past manicured courtyards and white-stone terraces. It stopped before the familiar estate, polished marble, lush gardens, and a training field where the sound of steel echoed in rhythmic bursts.

In the middle of that garden, Viola Torvares and Luna, her ever-composed retainer, were in the midst of a sparring session.

Luna moved like a shadow, twin knives slicing through the air with precision and calm efficiency. Viola, by contrast, was all aggression, her sword singing through the air with fiery momentum, her footwork sharper but charged with raw determination.

When the wagon rolled to a halt, both women turned toward the noise. Viola rested her sword on her shoulder, breathing lightly, her eyes narrowing as the Lionsguard banner came into view.

Then she spotted Ludger stepping out, calm, collected as ever, followed by the towering Kharnek, who gave a wave so casual it looked out of place in such a refined setting.

Luna blinked. Viola frowned. And then they both noticed Kaela stepping down from the wagon, brushing the dust from her cloak, her golden hair glinting in the sunlight. She smiled sweetly, waving with perfect poise. “Hello~”

Viola’s expression turned suspicious immediately. “…Ludger,” she said slowly. “Who is that?”

Ludger didn’t hesitate. “Kaela,” he said dryly. “A homewrecker who recently moved to Lionfang.”

“Hey!” Kaela protested instantly, spinning toward him. “That’s slander!”

“Then it’s accurate slander,” Ludger replied without missing a beat. “She also happens to be the one who taught me wind magic.”

That made Viola pause, eyes flicking from Ludger to Kaela, then back again.

“Wind magic, huh?” she said, voice skeptical. “And I assume she wasn’t wearing that much clothing when she taught you?”

Kaela’s face turned crimson. “I’ll have you know I dress very appropriately when teaching!”

Kharnek burst into laughter so loud the birds in the nearby hedges scattered. “Aye, she was dressed differently, I’ll give her that!”

“Not helping,” Kaela snapped.

Ludger sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is going to be a long visit.”

Luna, still standing beside Viola, gave a faint smile. “It usually is, whenever you’re involved.”

Viola folded her arms, her eyes still locked on Kaela. “Homewrecker or not, I’ll be keeping an eye on her.”

Kaela put on her best innocent smile. “Wouldn’t dream of disappointing you, Lady Torvares I won’t take your little brother from you. His mother would kill me at the thought alone…”

The tension between the two women was almost visible in the air, the calm before a storm Ludger very much wanted to avoid.

Kharnek leaned closer to him and muttered with a grin, “You should charge for tickets next time, lad. This is better than the arena.”

Ludger’s sigh deepened. “Remind me to regret inviting any of you.”

Ludger was halfway up the steps toward the manor when the heavy front doors opened and Lord Torvares himself stepped out.

The old lord looked far better than the last time Ludger had seen him. The sickness that had once kept him weakened had faded, replaced by the solid, commanding posture of a man who’d ruled through decades of storms. His silvered hair was combed neatly, and he wore a formal travel coat lined with subtle runic threads, protection against both the elements and politics. Even his expression carried that same calm gravity that had once silenced entire guild halls.

“Ludger,” Torvares greeted with a faint nod. “You made good time.”

Ludger stopped at the bottom of the stairs, offering a respectful incline of his head. “Lord Torvares. I didn’t expect you to be traveling yourself.”

Torvares gave a low chuckle, dry but steady. “If the Empire wants to speak with the Lionsguard, it should hear from the man who helped build it, not just its banners. And besides,” he glanced toward the stables, where servants were preparing horses and carriages, “—I’ve been resting long enough. It’s time I remind the capital that I’m not dead yet.”

Ludger’s lips twitched faintly. “They’ll remember.”

As Torvares adjusted the clasp on his cloak, Ludger asked, “Why not send Viola again this time? It would be a good experience for her.”

The old man paused, then gave him a sidelong look that carried both fondness and iron. “Experience, yes. But she’s still lacking something vital.”

Ludger raised an eyebrow. “Which is?”

“Presence,” Torvares said simply. “In the capital, strength alone means little. One’s aura, how they stand, speak, and silence others, matters far more than their blade. Viola’s progressing well, but her fire still burns too bright, too young. The nobles there would smell that weakness and pounce.”

He looked back toward the training field, where Viola and Luna were talking in the distance. “She’s not ready to stand among wolves yet. Let her sharpen her edge here a little longer.”

Ludger nodded. It was a fair assessment, even if he knew Viola would hate hearing it. Torvares turned back toward him, the faintest ghost of a smirk forming. “In the meantime, you can make yourself useful. Those notes  about your Overdrive experiments?”

Ludger handed over a small, sealed packet. “I sent them, what about it? She can use them to refine her style.”

“Good,” Torvares said, tucking the notes under his arm. “Her control has improved, but she’s still relying too much on instinct. Structured power will serve her better than raw emotion.”

He turned his gaze toward the city walls, where guards were already gathering under his command. “We’ll depart as soon as I’ve spoken with the captains and confirmed the escort schedule. Keep the carriage ready. You can use the meantime to teach Viola whatever insights you didn’t fit in those notes.”

Ludger nodded once. “Well, I should have put in all the necessary insights…”

Torvares’ expression softened slightly as he looked back at him. “You’ve grown more reliable than most men twice your age, Ludger. Keep it that way, the Empire will test that soon enough.”

Then he strode off toward the gate, his stride brisk, his presence cutting through the bustle like a blade through silk. Ludger watched him go, then exhaled quietly. The old man was right, the capital wasn’t a place for passion or pride. It was a theater of masks and daggers. And they were about to step right onto its stage.

When Lord Torvares headed off toward the gates with his entourage of guards, the air in the courtyard relaxed just a little. Viola exhaled, rolling her shoulders before planting her sword tip into the ground with a thunk. Luna stood nearby, silent as ever, cleaning her knives with calm precision.

Ludger crossed the garden toward them, his hands tucked behind his back. “So,” he said, voice as even as ever, “did you forget how to read already?”

Viola shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass. “The notes were perfectly clear,” she said, tone clipped. “But reading and seeing are two different things. Not everyone teaches like you, you know.”

Ludger nodded once, completely unfazed. “Fair point.”

Viola smirked, satisfied that she’d scored at least a small victory, then held out her sword. “I did manage to make progress with the fire version. Want to see?”

Before he could answer, she ignited her Overdrive. Her mana flared around her like rippling heat, the air shimmering with compressed energy. The flame’s pattern wasn’t wild, not anymore. It danced in measured bursts along her arms and shoulders, reinforcing her strikes without wasting mana.

“Not bad,” Ludger said, watching the glow fade. “Your control’s improved. Less flare, more focus. Far from Dad’s level, though.”

Viola grinned. “Told you I’d figure it out.”

“But the others?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Her grin faltered. “The others aren’t cooperating. The water version just… fizzles. And wind,” she waved her sword halfheartedly, “doesn’t even respond. Feels like I’m trying to move air that doesn’t want to move.”

“That’s because you’re forcing it,” Ludger said. “Fire responds to passion. Water flows with balance. Wind answers movement, not control.”

He looked to the side. “And you, Luna? Have you tried applying it yet?”

Luna finished cleaning one of her knives before glancing at him with that unreadable expression of hers. “I don’t use warrior skills. I have other tricks.”

Ludger gave a faint, knowing smirk. “I’m sure you do.”

Viola sheathed her sword, crossing her arms. “Alright, Professor. Since you’re here, why don’t you show me how the rest of these ‘tricks’ are supposed to work?”

“Fine.”

He stepped forward, dusting his gloves, and extended one hand. His mana flared, faint at first, then shifting colors in subtle rhythm.

“As you know, earth anchors,” he said, his tone calm and instructional. “It adds weight and grounding. Fire ignites, power in short and constant bursts. Water flows,  smooth, precise control. And wind…” He inhaled slowly, then exhaled, a faint rush of air swirling around his feet. “Wind rides momentum. It’s not about pushing, it’s about following.”

Viola’s eyes tracked every movement. When he stopped, she mimicked the stance, her Overdrive sparking faintly. The fire came naturally, but when she switched to water, her focus faltered. Ludger reached out, placing two fingers lightly against her wrist.

“Don’t force it,” he said. “Guide it. Water moves where it’s allowed to.”

She nodded, concentrating. Her mana softened, flowing more evenly this time. A faint shimmer rippled across her arm, not heat, not pressure, but a controlled current.

Her eyes widened slightly. “There. I felt it.”

“Good,” Ludger said. “Now keep it consistent.”

For the next few minutes, the two worked through the sequence, Ludger correcting her movements and occasionally stopping her from overcharging her mana. Luna watched silently from nearby, her expression unreadable, though the corner of her mouth twitched faintly every time Viola’s pride took a hit from another correction.

By the end of the lesson, Viola’s breathing was steady, and her control noticeably sharper.

“Better,” Ludger said finally. “You’ll need time to master the transitions between each element, but you’re on the right path.”

Viola smirked, wiping sweat from her brow. “Don’t think this means I’ll start calling you ‘teacher.’”

“Good,” Ludger said. “One of me is enough.”

Luna chuckled quietly at that, the rare sound earning a glance from both of them.

From the shade of a nearby tree, Kaela watched the scene unfold — Viola practicing under Ludger’s calm direction, Luna quietly observing, the garden filled with the low hum of controlled mana and shifting elements.

She rested her hands behind her head, leaning against the trunk, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “He’s something, isn’t he?” she murmured to no one in particular. “Smart, skilled, actually knows what he’s doing… and somehow not arrogant about it. It’s kind of terrifying.”

Kharnek chuckled beside her, the sound booming like distant thunder. “Aye, lad’s got his head straight. Doesn’t shout, doesn’t boast, just does. Reminds me of a chieftain I once knew. Only smaller.”

Kaela smirked. “And with better manners, I imagine.”

Kharnek barked another laugh. “Ha! Barely. But you’re right, he’s got control. More than most grown men I’ve met.”

Kaela tilted her head, watching as Ludger corrected Viola’s stance again, his usual faint smirk appearing when she tried to argue back. “Those smirks of his are irritating, though,” she said.

“That they are,” Kharnek admitted with a grin. “But you get used to it over time.”

“I doubt it,” Kaela said, crossing her arms now. “He has that look like he’s already five steps ahead of everyone else, and he knows it.”

“Exactly,” Kharnek said with a nod, clearly amused. “Drives people mad. Makes ‘em work harder just to wipe that look off his face.”

From behind the two, Darnell spoke up, arms crossed, tone dry as the dust on the road. “You’re one to talk, Kharnek. You were twice as rough before you started tagging along with Ludger. Now you actually laugh instead of yelling at people.”

Kharnek turned his head, snorting. “Bah. Don’t read too much into it, Captain.”

Darnell raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. I’m sure.”

Kaela grinned. “Oh, this is good. So he tamed the great chieftain?.”

Kharnek grunted, turning away toward the garden, his expression unreadable, but the faint flush on his face gave him away. “Don’t start with that nonsense.”

Kaela leaned forward, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Aww, is that a bit of northerner embarrassment I’m seeing?”

The chieftain gave a low growl of warning, but it only made her smirk wider. Darnell just shook his head with a small chuckle. “You know, I think the world might actually end if this group ever learns how to have a normal conversation.”

Kaela laughed softly, still watching Ludger from afar. “Normal’s overrated. Besides…” she smiled faintly, “I think he does better when chaos follows him.”

Kharnek grunted in reluctant agreement. “That much, I believe.”

And as they watched, the young vice guildmaster continued calmly shaping fire, water, and wind into disciplined arcs, completely unaware that half his traveling companions were quietly realizing how much of an anchor he’d already become.

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