Then the young man’s lips curved into a smile as his gaze found Ludger.

“Well,” he said, voice smooth and amused, “it’s been a while. You look stronger than before.”

Ludger’s posture stiffened, though he didn’t rise. He knows me. His mind flicked through memories, fights, negotiations, the academy duel arena four years ago, the crowd roaring while nobles wagered on their children’s pride.

That was it. The so-called Imperial Exchange Tournament, the capital’s twisted version of a noble training exercise.

And this boy… this boy had been one of Viola’s opponents, or was supposed to be in the semi finals.

Ludger didn’t return the smile. He just met the young man’s gaze and said, evenly,

“…I don’t recall your name. But I remember your face.”

The young man chuckled, unbothered. “Ah, I see. You remember the feeling then. That’s good enough for me.”

Torvares’s eyes flicked between them, his tone calm but edged. “I take it we’re skipping introductions, then?”

The young man turned to him, still smiling faintly. “Not at all, Lord Torvares. I’m Rufas Dalmoren, second representative of the Velis League’s envoy council.”

He gestured toward the engineers beside him. “These are my associates, Technomancer Linne and Rune Architect Dalen. We’re here to discuss… cooperation.”

The word hung in the air like a blade wrapped in silk.

Maurien folded his arms. “Cooperation,” he repeated, tone dry. “That’s a generous way to describe selling us weapons that end up in slavers’ hands.”

Rufas’s smile didn’t falter, but the glint in his eyes sharpened. “Oh, this will be fun,” he said softly. Ludger could already tell: the real negotiation hadn’t even begun.

The two engineers exchanged a look as soon as Maurien finished speaking, both visibly taken aback, though their reactions were different. The woman’s brows knit together in confusion; the man’s mouth tightened in irritation.

“Excuse me,” the woman said finally, her tone clipped but controlled. “What was that about slavers? We came here to negotiate a resource exchange with the Lionsguard, not to be accused of criminal trade.”

Her companion nodded sharply. “If this is how the Empire opens diplomacy, perhaps the rumors about its instability are true.”

Ludger raised a hand calmly, his voice cutting through the tension. “Sit down first.”

The firmness in his tone made both engineers pause. After a heartbeat, they obeyed, taking their seats across from the group. The younger envoy, Rufas, remained standing, arms folded with a faint smirk that didn’t reach his eyes.

Ludger continued, tone level but clear. “Maurien isn’t throwing wild accusations. He’s a veteran mage and a bandit hunter. More importantly, he’s part of the Lionsguard, my guild. His work often overlaps with mine.”

That caught their attention. Maurien inclined his head slightly, confirming it without words.

Ludger folded his hands on the table, gaze steady. “I can’t share all the details yet, but we’ve found evidence of Imperial citizens being traded through black market networks. Those same routes tie back to certain League merchants. That’s not a claim, it’s a lead.”

The engineers exchanged another glance. Ludger’s tone sharpened just slightly. “So, let me ask this directly: are there Imperial slaves in the Velis League?”

The man frowned. “Of course there are,” he said carefully. “But not in the way you imply. Most are debt-bound, criminals, or refugees who sold themselves into servitude to survive. We don’t need to kidnap anyone, and the League doesn’t do business with underworld guilds. That would undermine our own economy.”

The woman added, “Our laws allow indentured service, but it’s regulated by contract. Whatever illegal traffic happens beyond our borders isn’t sanctioned by the League.”

Ludger studied them closely, noting their body language, their micro-expressions. Both seemed genuinely confused, not evasive. “Then,” he said quietly, “if what you’re saying is true, you’d have no issue cooperating with an investigation into where those slaves are coming from?”

The two envoys hesitated, then slowly nodded.

“If we reach a suitable agreement today,” the woman said, “we’ll cooperate. We have no interest in being tied to trafficking scandals.”

Ludger leaned back in his chair and gave a small nod. “Good. Then we’ll leave that for after the meeting. The business comes first.”

He turned his head toward Maurien, who met his gaze and gave a slow nod of approval.

“Alright then,” Ludger said, refocusing on the envoys. “Let’s talk about the trade deal before we move to the darker part of the ledger.”

The tension in the room eased slightly, but only slightly. Beneath the polished words and the polite smiles, everyone knew that once the negotiations were done, truth would be the next thing on the table.

Linne, the silver-haired engineer, reached into her satchel and pulled out a stack of parchment bound by brass rings. The sheets shimmered faintly with rune-ink, diagrams, contract seals, and market tables written in a League-style shorthand.

She laid them out neatly on the table, her movements precise. “Then, if we may proceed with the primary reason for our visit,” she began, voice crisp and professional. “The Velis League seeks to establish a formal trade accord with the Lionsguard. You’ve become, in a very short time, the Empire’s largest independent producer of froststeel and raw mana cores.”

Her partner, Dalan, took over smoothly. “We’re already in contract with the Ironhand Syndicate to handle ground distribution and transport across our southern ports. Their caravans are secure and equipped for containment of volatile materials. What we lack,” he said, meeting Ludger’s gaze, “is a reliable long-term supplier.”

Linne flipped to another page, a map of the northern trade routes, lines of ink crossing the mountains and rivers between the Empire and the League. “Our proposal is simple. The League will purchase both froststeel and mana cores directly from the Lionsguard, bypassing imperial intermediaries. We want consistency, not quantity bursts.”

Torvares’s expression didn’t change, but Ludger could see the way his hand tightened slightly around the head of his cane.

Dalan continued, “Specifically, we’re prepared to commit to a monthly shipment of one thousand mana cores and five hundred kilograms of froststeel. Which might renegotiated as the lionsguard increases in size”

Kaela’s brows shot up. Even Kharnek let out a low whistle.

“That’s a lot of froststeel,” she muttered.

Linne nodded without hesitation. “It is. But it’s also fair. In exchange, the League will offer one hundred diamond coins per shipment, paid on delivery, not credit.”

The room went quiet for a moment. Even Torvares blinked once, and for him, that counted as shock. Ludger, on the other hand, immediately started doing the math in his head. One hundred diamond coins per month… That was at least double what they’d get selling to the imperial markets. And yet, something didn’t sit right.

He crossed his arms, keeping his expression unreadable. “That’s…  pretty generous,” he said slowly.

Linne smiled faintly. “We value efficiency. The Empire’s tariffs and permits make trade painfully slow. The Lionsguard operates outside those chains. We want to make a deal fast since we already spent far too much time here.”

Dalan leaned forward slightly. “Your guild is efficient, disciplined, and capable of consistent output. We’ve done our research. Your current yield, between your frost labyrinth operations and the mana cores collected from the south, should easily meet our requested quotas.”

Ludger’s eyes narrowed just slightly. Easily, they said. But the truth was, they were asking for ninety percent of his monthly production capacity. They’d done their homework, down to the ton.

He didn’t call them on it. Not yet. Torvares spoke first, his tone cool. “A deal of that size would practically monopolize the Lionsguard’s exports. You’d be their only client.”

“Exactly,” Linne replied smoothly. “Which means fewer complications. And we pay well enough that the arrangement benefits both sides.”

Ludger stayed quiet, studying them, the calm precision of their words, the way the runic sigils on their sleeves pulsed faintly every few seconds, as if measuring reactions.

He wasn’t sure what bothered him more, the scale of their offer, or how confidently they already knew what he could deliver.

Linne turned another page in her ledger, her tone still crisp and neutral. “Of course, such a large-scale exchange comes with… logistical expectations.”

Dalan adjusted his gloves and leaned forward slightly. “To clarify: the Lionsguard will handle all matters of transport and security for the shipments. The goods are to be delivered directly to our receiving stations on League soil. We’re not interested in splitting responsibility with the Empire’s bureaucrats.”

Torvares’s eyes narrowed slightly. “So, no imperial caravans, no state inspection, and no escorts provided by the League?”

“Precisely,” Linne said smoothly. “It keeps things cleaner. Fewer eyes. Fewer unnecessary tariffs.”

Dalan nodded. “We’ll not pay the Empire’s taxes for crossing their borders either. If the Empire demands tariffs, that will be the Lionsguard’s problem to negotiate. Consider it… part of the business risk.”

That earned a faint scowl from Torvares. “You want to move imperial goods through the League’s gates while pretending neither government exists. That’s not risk, that’s insanity.”

Linne met his stare without flinching. “That’s commerce. The Empire takes its cut from every border crossing; the League prefers to pay directly for results. Our price reflects that convenience.”

The tension in the room thickened, and Ludger could feel Maurien shift behind him, not in protest, but like a wolf watching a trap being baited.

Torvares exhaled slowly through his nose, his voice cooling to something sharper. “Then let me ask the obvious question. What guarantees does the Lionsguard have in League territory? If the guild’s caravan is ambushed or stolen, will the League compensate us?”

Dalan spread his hands slightly. “The League is not lawless. Our trade routes are stable, our cities well protected. You’ll find no safer ground to move your materials.”

Linne added, “But should you encounter trouble from… criminal elements,” she gave a small, deliberate pause, “then you are free to eliminate the problem as you see fit. The League’s local laws will not interfere, if those attackers exist at all, as you claimed.”

That last phrase carried just enough emphasis to make it clear they were covering themselves.

Torvares’s brows furrowed deeper. “So, in short, we protect the shipments, we pay the tariffs, we handle the transport, and if something goes wrong in your country, we get to clean it up for you.”

Linne smiled faintly. “That’s one way to phrase it, Lord Torvares. But consider the upside: one hundred diamond coins a month for a product you already produce. You gain profit and reach, and the League gains reliability.”

Ludger kept his expression neutral, though his mind was turning fast. They’re not just buying froststeel and cores, he realized. They’re buying control.

He didn’t say it aloud, not yet,  but when he glanced at Torvares, he could tell the old man had reached the same conclusion.

Ludger leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the table, his gaze fixed now on Rufas Dalmoren, who up until that point had watched the exchange like a man observing an experiment he already knew the outcome of.

“Alright,” Ludger said evenly. “Let’s say we go along with this arrangement. The Lionsguard moves the shipments, keeps them secure, deals with the tariffs, and delivers them directly to your stations.”

He tilted his head just a fraction. “What, exactly, does the Empire get out of all this?”

Rufas smiled faintly, that kind of smile that belonged to someone who’d already rehearsed the answer. “The standard cut, of course. The Empire takes ten percent of all business dealings involving materials that cross its borders. It’s the law.”

He brushed a speck of imaginary dust off his sleeve and continued, tone as smooth as glass. “That would be ten diamond coins per shipment, paid directly to the Treasury’s trade commission.”

For a moment, Ludger didn’t move. His face stayed perfectly still, too still, but the vein just above his left temple began to twitch.

Ten diamond coins, he thought. For what?

They weren’t providing guards. They weren’t providing wagons. They weren’t even pretending to help.

Ten diamond coins,  roughly the equivalent of ten thousand dollars by his old-world measure, every month, just for existing on the map.

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