When the duel finally ended, the floor looked like it had survived a minor natural disaster.

Long scorch marks carved patterns across the stone. Steam drifted lazily through the air. The recruits had gone from cheering to quietly watching in awe, and even Kaela had stopped teasing long enough to accept that neither of them was going to collapse. Viola, however, was done.

She bent forward with her hands on her knees, gasping so hard it sounded like she might inhale her own lungs. Sweat dripped down her temples and slid along her jaw, steam rising from her skin where the fading remnants of her flame Overdrive still lingered. Her shirt clung to her like she’d just finished sprinting up a mountain with a boulder on her back.

Twenty full minutes. Twenty minutes of slashing, sprinting, exploding forward, pivoting off the ground, spinning, And she hadn’t landed a single solid hit.

Meanwhile, Ludger stood across from her looking like he’d just finished a mild warm-up stretch. Not sweatless, but controlled; breathing steady, posture relaxed. His Overdrive had already faded, the mist around him dispersing into the cavern air.

Viola wiped sweat from her forehead and glared at him between ragged breaths.

“I—hate—you.”

Ludger shrugged. “If you hate anyone, hate physics. Or your own approach.”

She growled but didn’t argue. She simply collapsed onto the nearest crate like a dying animal and let her sword clatter beside her.

Ludger stepped closer. “You enjoy it too much.”

Viola blinked up. “Enjoy… what?”

“Fire Overdrive.” He crossed his arms. “Explosive attacks. Bursts of speed. Flying around like you’re trying to punch the air into submission.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but shut it again, because it was true.

“You let the power rush take over,” Ludger continued, sitting down across from her. “But you don’t understand why I sent you notes for all four Overdrive attunements.”

Viola frowned, still panting. “…Because you wanted me to experiment?”

“Partially.” He tapped his chest. “But also because each Overdrive has strengths and weaknesses. And more importantly, some counter each other.”

She stared at him in silence for a moment. Despite the exhaustion, her brain was clearly still functioning; the gears were turning.

“Fire overwhelms,” she murmured. “Earth anchors. Wind follows. Water flows.”

Ludger nodded once. “Exactly. Fire is strong, but predictable. Too linear. Too explosive. Anyone who reads your rhythm can shut you down.”

She winced. “Like you just did.”

“Pretty much. Water attuned overdrive allows the user to save energy with minimal movements.”

She shot him a weak glare, but there was no real heat behind it, her Overdrive had burned all the heat out of her already.

“At least your brain worked properly out of combat,” Ludger added with a dry smirk.

“Say that again and I’ll burn your eyebrows off,” Viola muttered.

Kaela snorted from the sidelines. “Oh no, the scary sweaty princess is threatening him.”

Gaius rumbled approvingly. “Good fight.”

Maurien simply nodded. “It was insightful, even though I am no warrior.”

Viola dragged her hand down her face. “I’m surrounded by jerks.”

But even through her complaints, she couldn’t hide it—the spark of satisfaction in her eyes. She had pushed herself. Learned something. Improved.

And Ludger, as always, had quietly nudged her toward the next step. The duel might’ve been over, but the lesson was only just beginning.

By noon the next day, the faint gray light of the tunnels gave way to sunlight as the group emerged near Meronia. The journey home had been smooth, the runic carriage humming softly as it carried them the final stretch.

When they reached the city gates, Viola and Luna stepped down first. Viola brushed her hair over her shoulder, straightened her cloak, and turned toward Ludger with raised brows.

“Aren’t you at least going to speak with Grandfather before you go?” she asked. “He’ll want a report.”

Ludger didn’t even hesitate. “No. I need to get home as soon as possible if I want to avoid being skinned alive.”

Luna blinked. “By who?”

Maurien answered dryly, “His mother.”

Kaela snorted. “Oh. Yeah. He’s cooked.”

Ludger ignored all of them and focused on adjusting the straps of his pack, as if sheer readiness could help him escape parental wrath.

Maurien stepped forward and clasped Viola’s forearm politely. “I’ll speak with Lord Torvares in his stead. We can pass along the important details, minus anything too… volatile.”

Gaius grunted. “I’m coming with you.”

Maurien glanced at him. “To discuss the case?”

“To make sure Torvares doesn’t faint,” Gaius replied with a perfectly straight face.

Viola blinked, unsure whether to laugh or be offended. “He’s not that old.”

Ludger hopped back into the carriage, his expression grim. “Good luck with the meeting. I’m heading straight to Lionfang.”

Viola crossed her arms and gave him one last suspicious look. “And you’re sure nothing else happened that I should report?”

“Absolutely nothing you need to worry about,” Ludger shot back immediately.

“Which means something happened,” Viola muttered.

Luna sighed. “It’s him. Of course something happened.”

But there was no time for interrogation. The carriage runes lit up, the wheels hummed, and Ludger tightened his grip on the reins.

He glanced at Viola through the window, smirked, and said, “See you at the dancing party. That will be fun to watch.”

Viola rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips. “Don’t get murdered.”

“Trying.”

Maurien and Gaius headed toward the Torvares estate to handle the political aftermath. Viola and Luna disappeared into the city crowd, already making their way toward their obligations.

And Ludger? He flicked the reins. The runic carriage surged forward, turning toward Lionfang. Toward home. Toward his parents. Toward the inevitable lecture that would make fighting Verk feel merciful.

When the familiar walls and rooftops of Lionfang finally came into view, everyone exhaled with relief.

Everyone except Kaela, who suddenly froze as the full weight of a horrible truth crashed into her mind.

She turned toward Ludger, eyes widening in dawning betrayal.

“Maurien… that bastard.”

Ludger raised an eyebrow. “Now what?”

Kaela jabbed a finger toward the distant Meronia where Maurien and Gaius had vanished hours earlier. “He left early on purpose! He knew Elaine would demand answers about the whole ‘fighting a runic death machine capable of blowing up a manor’ thing! And he escaped before she could interrogate him!”

Ludger blinked… then sighed. “Yeah, that’s completely something Maurien would do.”

The truth stung Kaela so hard she grabbed her head dramatically. “We’re doomed. He abandoned us. No, he sacrificed us.”

Ludger rubbed his forehead. “I should’ve dragged him here so he could share the scolding.”

“We should’ve dragged him here!” Kaela corrected, horror spreading across her face. “Elaine always scolds the adults first! I’m not ready to die like this!”

Ludger stared at her, deadpan. “You’re almost thirty.”

“I am not that old, and that changes NOTHING!”

Before Ludger could retort, Kaela bolted. She jumped off the carriage, landed in a roll, and sprinted toward the northern camp faster than Ludger had ever seen her move in her life.

“I JUST REMEMBERED I HAVE IMPORTANT BUSINESS IN THE NORTH!” she yelled as she vanished behind houses. “I’LL BE BACK IN A FEW WEEKS! MAYBE A MONTH! MAYBE A YEAR!”

Ludger watched her go, unimpressed.

“…Coward.”

Then he turned to the recruits.They had all turned pale. Ghost-white. Even Derrin, who stared at Ludger like he was about to witness a public execution. Ludger crossed his arms and gave them a slow, knowing look.

“Well?” he said. “If any of you want to stick around and hear my mother complain for an hour, be my guest.”

There was a unified reaction: The entire squad scattered like a flock of terrified birds. Mira ran toward the guild hall without looking back. Taron pretended he suddenly had runic maintenance to perform. Rhea vaulted over a fence. Callen slipped away with silent, watery smoothness. Even Bram, the toughest of the new recruits, whispered, “Good luck, Vice-Guildmaster…” before jogging—jogging—away as fast as dignity allowed.

Within thirty seconds, Ludger was the last one standing beside the carriage. He closed his eyes. Took a breath. And muttered to himself:

“Alright… let’s get this over with.”

Time to face Elaine. The final boss. God help him.

Ludger rolled the runic carriage to a gentle stop outside the household and simply… stared at the door.

He’d fought assassins.

He’d fought frost paladins.

He’d fought a runic monster powered by thrusters and insanity.

None of that prepared him for this moment.

With a resigned sigh, he climbed down and decided that returning the carriage to the guild could wait. Delaying the inevitable wouldn’t help. He walked up the steps, placed a hand on the doorknob, and pushed the door open.

“I’m back.”

He barely had time to take a single step before—

WHAM!

Two small bodies crashed into his legs with the force of affectionate cannonballs.

“LUDGIE!”

“LUDGIE!”

Arash and Elle clung to him like determined cicadas refusing to be peeled off a tree. Their tiny hands wrapped around his pants, their foreheads pressing against his thighs as though physical attachment alone could anchor him to the house forever.

Ludger ruffled their hair fondly. “Yeah, yeah, I missed you two gremlins too.”

He shuffled into the dining room with the twins still latched on like decorative accessories. Elaine was seated at the table with a cup of steaming tea. She set the cup down slowly.

Deliberately.

“Welcome back,” she said with a smile so cold it could’ve frozen magma.

Ludger immediately threw his hands up.

“I surrender. Make it quick and painless.”

Elaine arched an eyebrow. “You don’t get to joke your way out of this one, Ludger.”

He swallowed. Which, of course, meant he had to joke one more time.

He looked down at the twins. “Protect me from your mother’s wrath, brave knights.”

Arash stared.

Elle stared.

Then both children stared at Elaine. Who smiled. The twins instantly abandoned Ludger’s legs, bolted across the room, and vanished straight into their bedrooms like survival experts fleeing certain doom.

Elaine took another sip of tea. “Your white knights have abandoned you.”

Ludger exhaled. “Cowards… but fine. I still have one last card.”

He swung his backpack around, unlatched the top, and carefully pulled out his masterpiece, his finest sculpture to date. A sculpture of Elaine herself.

He’d spent four days on it, shaping every line and curve with meticulous attention: her posture elegant, her expression calm, her eyes sharp, her aura serene. He’d tried to capture her wisdom, her beauty, her terrifying aura of maternal judgment, everything.

He set it gently on the table in front of her.

“I tried to sculpt your charm, wisdom, beauty, and forgiveness,” Ludger said solemnly, “but I didn’t have enough time for all of it.”

Elaine studied the sculpture. Her expression softened, slightly. She nodded.

“It’s a very good sculpture, Ludger.”

His eyes brightened.

“But not good enough,” she continued, “to let you escape the scolding you’re about to get.”

Ludger slumped in defeat. So began the true final battle of the arc.

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