Maurien rubbed his chin, thinking. “We don’t know for certain. But we’d be fools to assume they’re blind. Noble houses with political ambitions always have intelligence networks. Informants, patrollers, spies, servants. They monitor arrivals and departures, movements through the city, border shifts… even rumors.”

He gestured toward the crumpled parchment on the ground.

“And after the manor explosion in Coria? Every major house in the Empire started sniffing for leaks. The Rodericks would have noticed immediately.”

Kaela clicked her tongue. “So someone tipped them off, or they’ve been watching the squad for a while.”

“Exactly,” Maurien said. “And that means one more thing.”

Ludger lifted his gaze, eyes narrowing. Maurien’s voice dropped to a quiet certainty.

“It confirms Verk made it to the capital.”

Silence settled over the checkpoint, not the calm kind, but the heavy, oppressive weight of a truth that fit too perfectly.

Ludger inhaled once more, slower this time. “Then we’re not just rescuing them.”

Maurien nodded. “No. We’re walking straight into enemy territory.”

Kaela grinned, rolling her shoulders. “Good. I was getting bored anyway.”

But Ludger wasn’t smiling. His squad was in chains. Verk was hiding in the capital. The Rodericks had made their first move. And Ludger was ready to answer it.

The underground tunnel network was vast, branching beneath mountains, forests, and even most sections of the Empire…  but it had never connected directly to the capital’s sewers. That was intentional.

Ludger could’ve carved a straight path years ago, he had the strength, the mana, the precision. But a direct, hidden route from his border network straight into the capital had always been too risky. Better to allow some visibility: caravans arriving openly at the city gates, goods offloaded in public, then disappearing later beneath the veneer of midnight.

That illusion of normal movement kept suspicion low. But today wasn’t normal. Today, they needed to move unseen. Ludger placed both hands on the tunnel floor, mana spreading outward like a silent ripple. The stone cracked and parted under his will, extending into new territory. The tunnel bent downward, then curved sharply, burrowing until the scent of stagnant water crept in. A final push split the last layer of stone, and the smell hit them immediately.

Kaela gagged. “Ugh. Why is every plan lately forcing me near sewers?”

Maurien ignored her, stepping carefully as Ludger reshaped part of the wall to keep the water away from them.

“We’re beneath the outer ring,” Ludger muttered. “From here, Torvares’s estate is two kilometers east and thirty meters up.”

Without waiting, he dug. The earth parted. The sewers faded behind them. Within minutes, they were back in dry stone, in silence. He placed a hand to the wall, fingertips sinking slightly as mana spread into the ground. Seismic Sense.

The world unfolded in a silent map, echoes of footsteps, heartbeats, the shifting of cloth. Ludger scanned the estate layout, recognizing familiar vibration patterns. Torvares’s servants. Guards. Two distant presences he didn’t recognize, possibly visitors. And deeper still…

A cluster of people far larger than what should’ve been inside if Torvares and Viola were away. Which meant one thing:

One of them is here.

Probably Torvares himself. Ludger allowed the stone to rise again, sealing the tunnel behind them, and shaped a small opening into one of the unused guest rooms above. They slipped inside silently, Ludger closing the wall behind them so seamlessly it looked untouched.

Kaela glanced around, hand on her dagger. “We move through secret tunnels, pop out in people’s bedrooms, and sneak through hallways like ghosts…” She raised an eyebrow. “If anyone sees us, we’re going to look suspicious even by criminal standards.”

Ludger shrugged. “Then we don’t get seen.”

Maurien nodded once, already focused. “Study should be just down the hall.”

Without further comment, Ludger moved first, slipping through the dim corridor with the controlled precision of a trained assassin. Maurien followed with quiet, deliberate steps. Kaela grinned and padded behind them, clearly enjoying the theatrics despite her complaint.

They were inside Torvares’s estate. Hidden. Unannounced. And about to bring news that could shake the Empire.

It was late, well past midnight in the capital, but Torvares’s estate was still alive with activity. Lanterns burned in nearly every hallway, guards moved in rotating patrols, and servants hurried with documents or trays of refreshments. Whatever was happening in the capital had the entire household running like a sleepless engine.

The study wing, however, was quieter. Not empty, just less chaotic. The three of them slipped through the shadows, keeping to blind spots and corners, avoiding the lantern light. When they reached the hallway leading to Torvares’s study, there were no guards posted directly in front of the door, but plenty moved through the corridors nearby. Enough that they knew this part of the estate was still under tight watch.

Ludger scanned the hall, then gestured for Maurien and Kaela to stop. He crouched slightly, looking beneath the study door. A thin strip of warm gold shone from the crack, someone was still inside, and awake.

He steeled himself, raised a hand, and knocked softly. A voice answered almost instantly:

“Come in,”

Viola’s voice.

Ludger exhaled through his nose. Of all the people he didn’t want to surprise in the middle of the night, Viola was near the top of the list.

“It would’ve been easier to keep this from Torvares,” he muttered under his breath, “than from her.”

Maurien smirked. Kaela snorted. Ludger pushed the door open.

Viola looked up from behind a mountain of paperwork stacked across the desk, documents, reports, maps, and ledgers forming a small fortress around her. She wore a dark blue tunic, sleeves rolled up, hair tied loosely and falling out of place. Her expression was exhausted but focused, eyes sharp despite the clear fatigue weighing them down.

Beside her sat Luna, quieter, calm, and methodically organizing sealed envelopes into categories, her hair tied back. She glanced up, eyes widening just a fraction at the sight of Ludger before relaxing. Viola rubbed her temples, let out a tired sigh, and leaned back in her chair.

“I was expecting you three,” she said, voice steady but undeniably worn. “But no one told me you were near the capital. Or even in the Empire.”

Ludger stepped inside, shutting the door behind them. “We didn’t inform anyone. We came without revealing ourselves to a single person.”

Viola raised an eyebrow. “You broke into my estate by tunneling under it again, didn’t you?”

Kaela grinned. Maurien coughed politely. Ludger only nodded.

Viola dragged a hand down her face and muttered, “Of course you did.”

Then she straightened, her eyes sharpening with understanding, worry, and expectation.

“Alright,” she said. “If you came in secret, and at this hour… tell me everything.”

Ludger didn’t soften or shorten anything. He stood in front of Viola’s desk and delivered a full, unfiltered report of everything that had happened in the Velis League. From the moment they crossed the border to the moment he blacked out in the sky above Coria, every discovery, every fragment of evidence tying the Velis council to House Roderick.

Viola remained silent through the entire recount. She didn’t interrupt, didn’t question, didn’t even shift her posture. Her eyes stayed fixed on him, sharp despite the exhaustion in their corners, absorbing every piece of information with the precision of someone trained to read battle reports like they were scripture.

But Ludger saw the subtle changes. The slight tightening of her jaw when he described the underground network of smuggling and corruption. The subtle tremor of her fingers when he explained the connection to purple mushrooms and berserker draughts. And especially the moment he revealed the name Verk and the role he played, working directly with House Roderick to destabilize the Empire from the shadows.

Viola’s eyes flickered at that. Not wide, not dramatic, but enough to show the shock landing deep. Coria wasn’t just another city. Its council mattered. Its officials shaped trade routes, influenced politics, and held leverage across borders. A councilor was not some disposable pawn.

And a councilor working with House Roderick… That was a revelation heavy enough to tilt the political axis of the Empire. Still, she held her composure until Ludger began describing the fight.

His infiltration into Verk’s fortified manor. The advanced runic soldiers and predictive armor. The exchanges that shattered his mask and bones. The overwhelming force of the mana blast that obliterated half the district. The self-destruction of Verk’s armor raining molten debris across Coria. And the fact that Ludger had come within seconds of being vaporized.

By the time he finished, Viola exhaled slowly and leaned back in her chair, fatigue momentarily giving way to raw disbelief.

“You’re completely reckless,” she murmured, rubbing her temples. “You fought a Velis councilor wearing armor built to counter elite guildmasters, and you did it alone, in his stronghold, without backup.” Her voice tightened slightly. “That shouldn’t have been survivable. For anyone.”

Ludger didn’t argue. He didn’t feel pride in surviving. Only the weight of everything still unfinished.

Viola pushed aside a stack of reports and finally explained her own situation.

“I was already traveling to the capital when the first rumors surfaced,” she said. “Some administrative issues on behalf of my grandfather needed personal attention. Then, midway through the trip, I heard something worse, rumors that your squad had been detained.” She paused and sighed heavily. “I accelerated my arrival, obviously.”

Maurien asked about Lord Torvares, and Viola gave a tired, exasperated look. “He caught a severe cold. The stubborn old man tried to insist he was fine and intended to come anyway, but I forced him to stay at home. The journey would’ve made him worse.” She gestured to the paperwork drowning her desk. “So now I’m here, handling everything.”

Her eyes swept across the messy surface, piles of reports, coded letters, guard schedules, supply manifests, informant notes, each one marked with red ink where she’d already dissected them.

“I’ve been going through every scrap of information we received from our informants,” she continued, “searching for anything related to your people. Anything that could explain why they were taken, who gave the order, or where they’ve been taken.”

She let out a frustrated breath.

“But we found nothing. Every lead fades into silence. Every spy we sent out has returned empty-handed, and the capital’s information networks feel… restrained. Controlled.”

Luna, who had been quietly sorting sealed envelopes at the side table, nodded softly. “It’s like someone is deliberately blocking all channels.”

Viola turned her full attention back to Ludger, the tiredness in her expression replaced by resolve.

“You made it here without anyone noticing. You moved underground. You’re not tied to official channels or noble procedures.” She folded her hands together on the desk. “So tell me, Ludger. Now that you’re here…”

Her voice lowered, steady and resolute.

“…what do we do next?”

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