A day and a half later, they reached the jagged mountain range that marked the natural border between the Velis League and the Empire. Cold winds whipped down from the cliffs, carrying the smell of pine, familiar, grounding, and a stark contrast to the suffocating smoke that had hung over Coria.

The moment Ludger stepped onto the rocky plateau overlooking the valley, he pressed a hand to the ground. Mana flowed, not smoothly, not cleanly, but enough. 

Stone cracked in a widening circle, dust rising in gentle plumes as layers of rock shifted aside like parting doors. Within seconds, an entrance opened, an angular tunnel mouth leading into the vast underground network Ludger had carved months ago. The air that wafted out was cool and stale, untouched since his last passage.

Kaela stared at it with a sour grimace.

“Ugh. Here we go again.” She crossed her arms. “I swear, every time we travel underground, my stomach gets confused about where ‘up’ is. And the air tastes… earthy. Too earthy.”

Ludger raised an eyebrow. “It’s literally earth.”

“That’s the problem!”

Maurien hid a small smirk as he stepped toward the entrance. “You get used to it.”

“No,” Kaela retorted immediately. “No, I don’t.”

They descended into the tunnel anyway, Kaela muttering under her breath about “stone coffins” and “unnatural digging children,” while Ludger pretended not to hear her.

The deeper they went, the quieter it grew. Only the echo of their footsteps and the distant hum of Ludger’s runic lighting stones broke the silence. After a minute, Maurien finally asked the question that had been hanging in the air since they left Coria.

“What’s our next move?”

He didn’t ask casually. He asked because he already knew the two obvious answers. And he knew Ludger wasn’t going to choose the safe one.

“The sensible path,” Maurien continued, voice echoing off the stone, “would be to call reinforcements. The Lionsguard. Torvares. Even your father. With Verk fleeing into the Empire and the Rodericks preparing for damage control, we need numbers. Influence. Support.”

Ludger stayed quiet for a few steps, expression unreadable in the dim bluish light.

Kaela glanced sideways at him. “We aren’t calling them, are we?”

Ludger exhaled softly. “No.”

Maurien nodded, unsurprised but not pleased. “Explain.”

Ludger slowed his pace slightly, not hesitating, but choosing his words. “If we involve the Lionsguard now, they’ll be dragged into a political war. Not patrol work. Not border skirmishes. A noble house, one tied to the imperial family, will retaliate hard. I won’t risk my family… or the recruits… or Lionfang.”

He paused, the tunnel lights catching the faint shadows beneath his eyes, the strain, the exhaustion, the stubborn resolve.

“And if we wait for reinforcements,” he added, “the Rodericks will bury everything. Verk will disappear deeper. Their allies will scatter. We’ll lose our lead.”

Kaela tapped a finger against her dagger hilt. “So instead of bringing help… we stay a tiny, suicidal group that pokes the Empire’s most corrupt noble family in the ribs.”

Ludger gave her a flat look. “Yes.”

She grinned. “Good. Was hoping you’d say that.”

Maurien sighed, though there was no surprise in it. Only acceptance, and a flicker of approval. “Then we’re agreed. We move quietly. We follow the trail. And we strike before they know who we are or what we want.”

Ludger nodded once. The tunnels ahead stretched into darkness, toward the Empire, toward the Rodericks, toward the real war waiting for them. And none of them slowed as they walked into it.

The stone flowed smoothly through the tunnel, carrying the three of them deeper toward the Empire. The rhythmic grind of shifting stone should’ve been comforting, familiar, even, but Ludger barely noticed it. His body moved automatically, his mana guiding the Stone Surfing technique without conscious effort, while his mind churned through far more complicated terrain.

He didn’t want to drag his family or the Lionsguard into this mess. Every instinct told him to keep them far away from the Rodericks, the capital, and whatever hidden forces had empowered Verk. His tunnels, his guild, the fragile stability of Lionfang, all of it could become targets in an instant if anyone traced this shadow war back to him. And yet the thought pressed against him like a weight he couldn’t shrug off:

Some battles can’t be fought alone.

Verk had nearly killed him. If Maurien and Kaela hadn’t been nearby, if a few things had gone differently, Ludger would’ve been nothing more than a smear in a crater. Facing the Rodericks and their allies alone was reckless. Eventually, he would need help. But asking for that help would mean exposing friends and family to risks they weren’t prepared for.

His gaze drifted to the tunnel ahead, lit only by faint runic stones he’d planted months ago. The quiet gave him space to think. His mind flicked to the runic suit Dalan and Linne had crafted, the one he had used to disguise himself as an anonymous assassin. It had been powerful, effective, and crucially, it had hidden every trace of who he really was. That idea stuck with him.

If I need others involved… I need a way to protect them completely. Not just their names, not just their faces. Everything.

Masks weren’t enough. Cloaks weren’t enough. Anyone skilled could identify a fighter by their stance, their rhythm, the shape of their mana, the way they favored one side over the other. If he wanted to bring trusted allies into these dangerous operations without exposing them, they would need entire alternate identities.

Runic suits with concealed mana signatures. Voice filters. Altered stances and training to mask their true styles. Magic that distorted their presence. Disguises detailed enough to fool even someone like Verk. And not just for one person, enough for a handful of operatives, if it ever came to that.

It would take time. Cooperation. Runes. Engineering. Training. Maybe even forging new combat habits. But if he prepared all of this now… then when the next crisis came, and it would, his allies could act without putting their real lives at risk.

Maurien, noticing his silence, glanced over. “You’re thinking hard.”

Ludger gave a short nod. “Trying to plan ahead.”

Kaela nudged him lightly with her boot. “Planning ahead or planning stupid? There’s a difference.”

He didn’t rise to the bait, his eyes still narrowed in thought. “If things escalate… I might need help. But I can’t let anyone’s identity be exposed. Not my family. Not the Lionsguard. Not even Torvares.”

Maurien considered that, his expression unreadable. “If you can make that possible, it could shift the entire balance.”

Kaela snorted. “You’re seriously creating secret personas for everyone? That’s so dramatic. I approve.”

Ludger didn’t respond to her teasing. His mind was already fitting pieces together. Tools, training regimens, enchantments, runic disguises, everything that could allow people he trusted to fight alongside him without ever revealing who they truly were. He hoped he’d never have to use such measures. But he would prepare them anyway.

Because the road ahead wasn’t getting safer, and the enemies they faced were only growing in number and power. If he wasn’t ready, if he didn’t lay the foundations now, then next time, they might not survive at all.

The closest underground checkpoint near the capital appeared as a small alcove carved into the side of the tunnel, one of several resting spaces Ludger had built during the long months he spent expanding the underground network. It was simple but practical: a smooth stone bench, a flat slab that served as a table, and a few lanterns that filled the space with a soft blue glow. A place meant for short respites, quiet planning, or emergency stops.

They decided to rest there before making the final push toward the capital.

Kaela was the first to flop onto the bench, stretching until her joints cracked loudly. Maurien stood near the entrance, eyes scanning the mana currents in the tunnel to ensure no one had passed through. Ludger moved toward the stone table, intending to sit for a moment and ease the lingering aches in his body.

But something caught his eye. A single folded parchment lay in the center of the table. He froze. No one but a handful of trusted people even knew these checkpoints existed. For a message to be here… someone had come specifically to find him.

Ludger picked up the parchment, the weight of it already setting a cold stone in his stomach. Unfolding it, he scanned the neat, deliberate handwriting, each word concise and efficient. He recognized the style. One of Torvares’s healer-informants. The ones trained to blend into crowds and collect quiet whispers while working as traveling healers..

As he read, his chest tightened. His fingers curled. The edges of the parchment crumpled in his grip. Then he slammed his fist into the table.

CRACK—!

The reinforced stone split cleanly down the center, fragments scattering across the floor. Kaela jerked upright. Maurien turned immediately, posture shifting as he assessed Ludger’s expression.

“What happened?” Maurien asked, voice steady but sharp.

Ludger’s breath came tight, controlled only by sheer stubborn will. He forced his fist to unclench, though the tremor running through his arm betrayed him. “A healer-informant left this message for me. Someone Torvares trained to monitor the capital.”

Maurien stepped closer. “What does it say?”

Ludger swallowed hard, jaw tightening until it hurt. “Derrin. Mira. Taron. Rhea. Callen.”

Kaela’s eyes widened slightly, all trace of amusement gone.

“That squad,” Ludger continued, voice low and cold. “They were captured in the capital.”

Maurien’s brows furrowed. “Captured? For what reason?”

Ludger crushed the parchment fully and let the pieces fall to the ground. “They’re being accused of espionage… in the Velis League.”

The air in the room thickened, the silence heavy enough to choke on. Kaela’s expression sharpened into something predatory. Maurien’s calm exterior hardened into calm calculation. Ludger stared at the broken table, his pulse pounding in his ears.

“They were taken two days ago,” he said quietly. “And if they’re being accused of spying for the Velis League…”

He closed his eyes for a moment, drawing in a slow, steadying breath.

“…then we don’t have time.”

His hand curled again, not in pain this time, but in fury.

“We’re going after them. Now.”

Maurien stepped forward before Ludger could take another breath. His voice wasn’t raised, but it carried a weight that stopped the air itself.

“Ludger. Calm down.”

Ludger stiffened, but the command wasn’t harsh, it was steady, anchored, the kind of tone that could pull a drowning man back to the surface. Maurien’s eyes narrowed slightly as he studied him.

“I can feel your aura from here,” he continued. “It’s nothing but anger. If you move now, if you act on that, this will end badly. For you. For them. For all of us.”

Ludger clenched his jaw, but he forced himself to inhale slowly. The breath shook, but it went in. Maurien nodded approvingly.

“This is exactly what the Rodericks want. They captured your squad to force restraint.” Maurien’s voice dropped, cold and analytical. “It’s a shield. If we strike now, if we make even one wrong move, they’ll turn it into a political spectacle. They’ll point to the Lionsguard immediately and call it retaliation. They’ll paint your people as spies and us as criminals.”

Ludger’s hands curled into fists again, but this time, he controlled it. He lowered his head slightly and exhaled.

“…I know.”

Maurien watched him for a moment, then nodded. “Good. Hold onto that clarity.”

Kaela crossed her arms, one eyebrow raised. “Okay, but how did the Rodericks even connect the dots this fast? We moved quietly. No one should’ve—”

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