A few days later, while Ludger was demonstrating how to stabilize a shaky mana thread above a poorly drawn letter the earth beneath his feet carried a familiar vibration. Not danger, just weight, authority, and formality. A carriage. An expensive one. Reinforced wheels, polished axles, disciplined horses who marched with synchronized precision. Torvares’ signature rhythm.

Ludger looked up, already annoyed. A sleek black carriage rolled into Lionfang’s square, stopping neatly in front of the guild as if the driver had measured the distance with a ruler. The horses snorted pale clouds into the cool air, the metal on their harnesses glinting sharply. A few kids paused mid-spell, droplets splashing onto the dirt as they stared wide-eyed. Even some adults slowed their work to watch.

Then the carriage door opened with a smooth, deliberate motion. Lord Torvares stepped out first, dignified as always, posture straight, gaze sharp. The kind of presence that made even seasoned warriors instinctively adjust their stance. Behind him descended three teenagers, each one stiff and formal, clearly chosen with care. Three recruits. Just three.

Ludger felt his eyebrow twitch. Torvares never sent fewer than five. Groups of five were tradition… and efficient. Sending only three meant something was off, either the selection pool had been exceptionally weak, or Torvares wanted these three to stand out. Neither option was comforting.

As Torvares walked toward the training grounds, the entire area fell into a hush. Over a hundred children lined the yard, some working on basic writing drills, others practicing Create Water in trembling handfuls. The space, normally filled with chaotic chatter, softened instantly into focused silence as the noble’s aura swept across it.

Torvares took his time surveying the crowd. His gaze settled on the dozens of children raising water orbs with shaky concentration, the rows of others tracing letters carefully in the dirt, and the handful practicing breathing techniques Ludger had drilled into them. His eyes narrowed, not with displeasure, but in quiet, unmistakable approval.

“This,” Torvares said, voice low and thoughtful, “is far more than I expected.”

Ludger stepped forward reluctantly, feeling the weight of a new problem settling onto his shoulders. “You brought more recruits?”

Torvares gave a faint smile, one of those small, dangerous expressions that always meant he had a plan. “Yes. But only three this time. Quality over quantity.”

Ludger studied the trio behind him. The first was a tall girl with sharp amber eyes and a stance that said she’d been taught discipline from the cradle. The second was lean boy, built like a runner, twitchy energy hidden under tight control. The last had the quiet stillness of someone who’d seen something ugly and survived it, a short girl around the age of the newcomers who soon looked away when Ludger looked at her. These weren’t ordinary recruits. They’d been handpicked.

This was intentional. Torvares let his hands fold behind his back as he continued to observe the bustling yard. Kids were forming water droplets, tracing letters, reciting basic numbers, practicing controlled mana pulses, turning Lionfang into something it had never truly been before: a place of early education, discipline, and hope.

“I see you’ve been… busy,” Torvares said.

Ludger didn’t answer. The look he gave him was answer enough.

Torvares’s amusement deepened. “Let’s talk.”

Kids instinctively stepped aside, forming a neat path as Torvares approached Ludger. Some bowed awkwardly. Others stared with awe. A few whispered his name as if he were a character from a storybook.

And Ludger, staring at the three new recruits and the old noble behind them, felt that familiar headache forming between his temples. More recruits. More responsibility. More expectations.

Right after he’d just told the newcomers they’d need months, maybe years, of training before even being considered for the Lionsguard. He exhaled quietly, resigned. Of course Torvares arrived now.

Torvares didn’t bother with a long preamble. Once he reached Ludger, and once every child in the yard had gone silent enough to hear a pin drop, he gestured for the three teens to step forward.

He spoke loudly, clearly, and with purpose. Not just to Ludger. But to every pair of ears within range.

“These three,” Torvares began, “are the children of officers from my territory who have passed away recently.”

A quiet murmur rippled through the students. Even the smallest kids paused their mana practice to listen, sensing the gravity behind his words. Torvares continued, voice steady but carrying the respectful weight only a seasoned lord could command.

“They have received proper education. They can read and write already. They’ve been trained in combat since young and know basic magic techniques. Their families served Torvares lands with loyalty and honor.”

He placed a hand on the shoulder of the first teen, the tall girl with sharp eyes.

“It is my intention,” Torvares said, projecting his voice for all to hear, “that they join the Lionsguard.”

More murmurs. Some surprised, some curious, some quietly jealous.Ludger’s jaw tightened slightly. Torvares had said that on purpose. Loudly. Publicly. To send a message.

To tell every child present that the new recruits weren’t being chosen out of favoritism, but because they were already trained, already ready, already shaped by years of work. He was protecting Ludger’s earlier promise, that joining the Lionsguard required effort and proof, not convenience or nepotism. But that wasn’t the whole story. Not even close.

If these teenagers already had education, combat skills, and discipline, why wasn’t Torvares training them himself for his own household? Why had he personally brought them instead of sending them with a regular escort? Why involve Ludger directly?

Ludger couldn’t ask those questions aloud, not with a hundred kids listening. But Torvares saw the unspoken doubts in his eyes. He smiled faintly, the kind of smile that hid more truths than it revealed.

“Vice Guildmaster,” Torvares said, dropping his voice just enough for only Ludger and the three recruits to hear, “teach them well. And look out for them.”

There was something in his tone, quiet, heavy, edged with political weight. A request layered over an order. A warning layered over trust. Before Ludger could respond, Torvares straightened.

“I’ll speak with your father,” he said. “We have some matters to discuss.”

He turned and strode toward the guild entrance, his cloak sweeping behind him, leaving the three teens standing stiffly in front of Ludger… and a training yard full of kids staring like they’d just witnessed the start of something big.

Ludger exhaled through his nose. More recruits. Special ones. Delivered personally. There was more here than Torvares had said. But for now, he had three new students to evaluate. And a hundred kids watching how he responded.

Ludger turned his full attention to the trio Torvares had brought, studying them not as children, but as potential assets, liabilities, and puzzles wrapped in human shape. He studied the way they stood, the tension in their shoulders, the discipline in their breaths. Appearance rarely lies.

The first stepped forward on instinct, posture straight as a spear haft.

A tall girl, taller than most boys her age, with sharp amber eyes that missed nothing. Her hair was braided tight, not for style but for practicality, the kind of braid worn by soldiers and people who couldn’t afford hair in their eyes during a fight. Her shoulders were squared, stance perfectly balanced, weight evenly distributed across both feet.

She stood like someone raised to perform well under pressure, raised to impress, raised to be evaluated. Even her clothes told a story: clean, practical, with reinforced seams. Not noble clothes. Not poor either. Functional. She was the type Torvares liked, disciplined, capable, level-headed.

The second boy stepped forward with a different energy entirely. Lean. Long-limbed. Built like a runner or a scout. His breathing was steady but too fast, controlled nerves. His fingers tapped an invisible rhythm against his thigh, betraying the twitchy energy he tried to bury. His eyes darted from Ludger to the yard to Torvares and back, measuring, anticipating, calculating.

Ludger recognized the type: sharp instincts, fast reactions, a survivor’s awareness. Someone who could sprint across uneven ground, dodge danger, or flee when needed. He would need training. Discipline. Refinement. But he had potential.

Then Ludger’s gaze fell on the third. And something was off. The girl stepped forward only half a pace, then seemed to regret even that. She was shorter, barely reaching Ludger’s chest, with dark hair that wasn’t styled like the first girl’s or kept practical like the boy’s. Instead, it fell unevenly to her shoulders, cut with a shaky hand or a dull knife, like someone who trimmed it themselves.

Her clothes fit well enough but lacked the small reinforcements the other two had, suggesting she wasn’t outfitted by the same household or trainer. Her posture was careful, protective, almost shrinking, not from fear, but from habit.

And when Ludger met her eyes,  she instantly looked away. Not shy. Not intimidated. Avoidant. Too avoidant. Her mana signature flickered with the odd restrained quality he’d seen before in people who learned to hide themselves. People with trauma. People with secrets. People who were told, directly or indirectly, to never draw attention.

Torvares’ jaw tightened imperceptibly when he noticed Ludger noticing her.

That confirmed it. There was something different about this one. Something Torvares didn’t announce publicly. Something he clearly didn’t want the entire yard hearing.The other two? Clear origins. Clear purpose. Clear potential. But her? Ludger felt that familiar itch at the back of his mind, the one that warned him when someone had been put in his path for reasons not fully explained.

He didn’t ask. Not yet. Because if Torvares wanted something hidden, he wouldn’t reveal it under pressure, especially not to a crowd of listening children.

Even so…Ludger kept his gaze on the girl for another half-second. She flinched. Again looking away. She wasn’t ordinary. She wasn’t random. And she wasn’t here for the same reason as the other two. Torvares cleared his throat, mask sliding back into place as he prepared to leave.

“Teach them well,” he said to Ludger. “And… look out for them.”

Especially her. The unspoken message hung in the air. Then he turned and strode off toward the guild to speak with Arslan. Leaving Ludger alone with three handpicked recruits,  two predictable… and one wrapped in a quiet mystery he wasn’t sure Torvares would ever fully explain.

Ludger watched Torvares disappear into the guild, cloak swaying behind him like a closing curtain. The three teens remained where they were, standing stiff, unsure of what to do next, clearly waiting for Ludger’s instructions. He pointed toward the guild doors.

“Go inside,” he said. “Introduce yourselves to the people there. Get used to the place. Learn the layout. You’ll be working with us, so start now.”

The tall amber-eyed girl bowed her head sharply.

“Yes, Vice Guildmaster.”

The lean boy nodded and jogged ahead, already curious.

“Got it!”

The short girl gave the smallest acknowledgment, a quiet half-nod, before following the others inside, careful to avoid making eye contact. Ludger watched them leave, his expression unreadable. Then he turned back to his classes and resumed teaching.

To the children, nothing seemed different. He was the same, patient when correcting strokes, blunt when telling someone their letters looked like dying worms, calm when adjusting mana flow. But behind his focused exterior, Ludger’s mind was already spiraling around the mystery Torvares had dropped in his lap.

Who was that last girl? What was Torvares hiding? Why bring her personally instead of letting a guard deliver her? And why did she flinch like someone expecting punishment simply for being seen? He didn’t like mysteries delivered by nobles. They usually exploded later.

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