Arslan let out a long, tired sigh and leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming on the wooden armrest.

“That’s the problem,” he admitted. “I’m not sure what we should do. Ironhand asked for reinforcements, but Lionfang has never operated in maritime conflicts. We don’t have ships. We don’t have naval tactics. And most importantly, we don’t have experience fighting atop something that moves under your feet.”

Ludger crossed his arms. “…And they want us to help anyway.”

Arslan nodded, grimacing. “Rathen isn’t desperate yet, but he’s getting there. He says they lost two more ships last week.”

“Two more?” Ludger repeated, eyebrows rising. “And their engineers couldn’t blast their way out of it?”

“That’s exactly what worries him. Their explosives didn’t punch through the enemy hulls. Their cannons were intercepted mid-air. And they swear the enemy ships have some kind of magic shielding.”

Ludger felt his expression harden. “So Gaius won’t be as useful as you’d hoped.”

“Exactly,” Arslan said. “Earth magic can work underwater or from the sea floor, but if the enemy vessel has protective barriers, lifting or cracking the hull from below becomes much harder. And if something goes wrong? Gaius could overuse his mana out of sheer stuborness.”

Ludger didn’t say anything. The visual alone was enough to sour his mood.

Arslan continued. “What we actually need are wind mages. People who can fly, maneuver through storms, cross from ship to ship, and control the battlefield from above.”

Ludger stared at him slowly.

“…I don’t like where this conversation is heading.”

Arslan forced a smile, one of those “we’re in trouble, but I’m pretending we aren’t” smiles he used when politics were involved.

“Well,” he said, “people like Maurien and Kaela would be extremely useful at sea. Maurien can stay airborne indefinitely, and Kaela has the reflexes and mobility to fight on unstable surfaces without falling overboard.”

“Kaela on a ship?” Ludger muttered. “She’d end up stabbing a shark for looking at her.”

Arslan chuckled. “Possibly. But she’s still a strong candidate.”

Then, as if trying to ease the blow, he added casually:

“And I also heard that Renvar uses wind magic. This might be an excellent opportunity to test what he’s capable of.”

Ludger’s eyes half-closed in flat disbelief.

“…So you want to send Maurien, Kaela, and the idiot who flips around like a drunken acrobat onto a moving battlefield full of armed criminals, fog traps, and magic shields?”

Arslan shrugged helplessly.

“When you put it like that, it sounds worse.”

Ludger pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, it’s worse. It’s much worse. It’s so bad I can taste it.”

Arslan gave a low sigh, the sigh of a man who, through unfortunate circumstances and politics, was about to ask his son to do something deeply inconvenient and potentially very dangerous.

But Ludger already knew what this meant. Reinforcements didn’t just mean sending Kaela and Maurien. It meant he was expected to go too.

Ludger dragged a hand down his face and let out a long, suffering sigh, the kind that made Arslan wince because he recognized it. It was the sigh Ludger used right before accepting he was about to be inconvenienced on a spiritual level.

Of course something big had to happen. Of course it had to happen now.

He had wanted time, time to keep an eye on the suspicious trio Torvares delivered, time to figure out what was wrong with the quiet girl who couldn’t meet his eyes, time to monitor Renvar so the idiot didn’t accidentally burn down the guild or convince the kids to jump off the roof using “acrobatics.” But no. The universe refused Ludger this luxury.

“Fine…” Ludger muttered with another sigh as he stood up. “I’ll head south. I’ll stay a few weeks and see what I can do.”

Arslan watched him, relief tempered with concern. “Good. It means a lot to them. But… be careful, Ludger. Rathen’s letters weren’t exaggerating.”

Ludger nodded but his expression darkened, his gaze drifting to the window as if seeing the distant southern seas in his mind. There was one idea already taking shape.

“And if the situation is too much of a mess…” Ludger continued, voice flat, “I’ll just blow up their ships.”

Arslan froze. “…What?”

“I’ll use the Turtle Shock Wave,” Ludger explained, completely serious. “Highly compressed mana, both hands forward, point-blank range. It should tear right through the hull. Maybe the entire ship. Depending on how stubborn the magic shield is.”

Arslan stared at him, a bead of sweat forming on his temple.

“Luds,” he said carefully, “I know pirates are a menace, but maybe, just maybe, we should avoid turning the southern sea into a graveyard of floating splinters.”

“It’s efficient,” Ludger replied.

“It’s catastrophic,” Arslan corrected.

Ludger shrugged. “Same difference.”

Arslan’s forced smile returned, tight, nervous, and full of fatherly dread. “Just… do your best not to cause too much destruction.”

Ludger raised a brow. “You told me pirates are fair game.”

“Yes,” Arslan admitted, rubbing his temples. “But I also want to stay on good terms with the harbor masters, the coastal nobles, the fisherman guilds, the navy…”

Ludger tilted his head. “So I shouldn’t sink every ship I see.”

“Correct.”

“But I can sink the ones trying to kill me.”

Arslan sighed. “Unfortunately… yes.”

Ludger’s lips twitched upward. He knew the rules now.

Pirates? No problem. Ships trying to kill him? Fair game. Collateral damage? A “manageable concern.”And with that, Ludger turned toward the door, mentally preparing for yet another disaster to land in his hands.

Southbound seas. International underworld guilds. And a technique designed to obliterate everything in front of him. This was going to be a long trip.

Arslan exhaled, some tension leaving his shoulders now that the decision was made, though not enough to hide the worry in his eyes.

“I’ll handle Maurien,” he said, tapping the letter back into place on his desk. “He’s been hunting in the frost labyrinth this week, so he should return tonight. I’ll brief him personally when he arrives.”

Ludger nodded. Maurien was reliable. Deadly. And probably the best asset they had for aerial scouting. If pirates were using fog cover and magic shields, having an airborne ghost like Maurien watching from above would be invaluable.

“As for Kaela and Renvar,” Arslan continued, giving Ludger a meaningful look, “you can talk to them yourself.”

Ludger grimaced. Talking to Kaela meant listening to her complain, threaten, and argue for twenty minutes before agreeing enthusiastically. Talking to Renvar meant enduring overly loud excitement, dramatic poses, and at least one unsolicited acrobatic demonstration. Not ideal.

“Yes, yes,” Ludger muttered. “I’ll deal with the clowns.”

Arslan chuckled, then grew serious. “You leave tomorrow morning. The sooner we stabilize the Ironhand situation, the better.”

Ludger straightened. “Got it.”

He turned toward the door, already sorting through responsibilities in his mind.

He had to:

— Inform Kaela without triggering a knife-waving tantrum

— Inform Renvar without encouraging him

— Prepare his own gear, tools, and supplies

— Delegate the teaching schedule for the kids

— Assign the second squad to handle the daily lessons

— Coordinate with Yvar for staffing, logistics, and supervision

— Make sure the newcomers didn’t start chaos in his absence

— Make sure Renvar didn’t start chaos before they even left

— Make sure Kaela didn’t throw Renvar over a fence Just thinking about it made his shoulders tighten.

Arslan watched him go, an amused but sympathetic smile forming.

“Luds,” he called out before the boy stepped through the door.

“Yeah?”

“Try not to sink the southern coast.”

“No promises.”

Arslan sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and waved him away. Ludger headed back toward the main hall, preparing to break the news to the kids outside and reshuffle the day’s plans. The second squad would take over teaching the newcomers. Yvar could manage the lesson flow and keep the younger ones focused.

And Ludger? He was going to deal with pirates. Great.

Ludger headed back toward the training yard, already feeling the headache forming behind his eyes. The moment he stepped outside, he immediately spotted the source of at least half his current stress:

Renvar.

The idiot was in the middle of the yard, demonstrating evasive maneuvers to a ring of kids who watched with a mix of awe and confusion. Renvar leapt, flipped, spun, and twisted through the air like a circus performer possessed by wind mana. It was all impressive, until you realized none of the kids had the mana control or affinity to copy a single thing he was doing.

“See?” Renvar called out mid-flip, landing on one palm before springing upright again. “Just push the wind from your core, angle your hips, and glide past the strike! Easy!”

A few kids nodded like they understood. A few others looked like they were watching a magical cryptid. Kaela sat on a barrel nearby, arms crossed, offering half-hearted commentary every time Renvar almost fell on his face.

Renvar noticed Ludger approaching and immediately puffed up like a proud rooster.

“Vice Guildmaster! I was just showing them—”

Ludger raised one hand, palm forward.

“Stop. Please.”

Renvar froze, mouth open mid-excuse. Ludger let his gaze sweep across the yard once, then turned to face him and Kaela fully.

“We’re going south,” he announced. “Tomorrow morning.”

Renvar blinked. “South? For what?”

“Pirates,” Ludger said simply.

The single word sucked the air out of Renvar’s lungs. Kaela, however, reacted very differently. Her expression sharpened, all playfulness evaporating. She stood up from her seat slowly, eyes narrowing as memories clicked behind them, memories she didn’t usually talk about.

“…Pirates,” she repeated in a low tone, jaw tightening. “I haven’t dealt with those bastards since my smuggler-hunting days along the coast.”

Ludger nodded. “Good. Then you already know how messy this can get.”

Renvar swallowed hard. “We’re… we’re going to fight pirates? Real ones? On the ocean?”

“You’ll be standing on a ship,” Ludger said, “if that’s what you mean.”

Renvar tried to look brave, but the color drained from his face. Ludger continued, voice flat, emotionless as always:

“As much as I wanted to deny your entry into the guild entirely,” he said, looking Renvar dead in the eye, “I need to test you. And this is your opportunity.”

Renvar straightened, chest rising with shaky determination. “I—I’ll prove myself!”

“Try not to drown,” Kaela muttered.

Renvar deflated instantly.

Kaela crossed her arms, expression serious again as she studied Ludger. “If pirates are involved… then this isn’t some small job. What kind of group are we dealing with?”

“The dangerous kind,” Ludger said. “Organized. Armed. Possibly tied to an international underworld guild.”

Kaela clicked her tongue, eyes darkening. “…Figures.”

Renvar shifted nervously. “…Is it too late to back out?”

“Yes,” Ludger said.

Kaela smirked. “Absolutely.”

Renvar sighed in despair. Ludger pointed toward the gate.

“Pack your things, both of you. We leave at dawn.”

Kaela nodded. Renvar gulped. And Ludger mentally prepared himself for the most chaotic trip imaginable.

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