Rathen rubbed his forehead, the exhaustion settling deeper into his features as he continued.

“We’re a maritime guild, yes. We specialize in shipbuilding, navigation, engineering, coastal defense… all of that. But we were never meant to fight a full-scale war against an enemy this well-equipped.” His fingers tapped the table once, sharply. “We have the skill. We don’t have the numbers. Or the firepower.”

Ludger leaned back slightly. “So these pirates aren’t just pirates. Someone’s funding them.”

Rathen let out a slow breath. “That’s what it looks like.”

Ludger chewed on that for a moment, then asked the question that had been forming ever since they heard about foreign runic cannons and reinforced hulls.

“You think this connects to the Rodericks? Or even Councillor Verk?”

The room went quiet. Kaela’s eyes narrowed. Maurien stilled completely. Renvar stopped fidgeting for the first time in hours. Rathen didn’t answer immediately. He stared at the desk as if the wood held the truth. When he finally spoke, his voice was careful.

“…There’s a chance.”

He straightened, folding his arms slowly.

“Rodericks… no one knows what they’re doing lately. And Verk…” His eyes darkened. “Verk was a councilor of Coria for years. He knew their systems, their trade routes, their defenses. He had hands in everything, politics, trade, logistics… and black-market connections.”

Ludger nodded grimly. “And Coria is the city we sell mana cores to through Linne and Dalan.”

“Exactly,” Rathen said. “Verk already had an entire foreign network at his disposal before he fled. If someone like him wanted to cause damage, interfere with trade, or destabilize the region…” He spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “…using pirates is one of the easiest tools imaginable.”

He leaned back, expression shifting from tired to sharpened.

“And don’t forget, Verk was deeply involved with runic research within the Velis League. If he escaped, he wouldn’t have walked away empty-handed.”

Kaela cursed under her breath. Maurien’s eyes glinted with silent calculation. Renvar suddenly didn’t look so excited to be on this mission anymore. Rathen continued, voice growing heavier.

“The sudden spike in enchanted cannons? Reinforced hulls? Mana-core speed boosters? Those things don’t just appear. Someone is supplying them. Someone with money, connections, someone who stands to benefit from crippling Ironhand’s trade.”

He paused.

“Verk fits that profile far too well.”

Ludger steepled his fingers, thoughtful and cold.

“If he’s in the shadows, trying to sabotage regional trade networks… then this isn’t just about pirates.”

Rathen nodded slowly.

“This is about someone trying to choke the empire’s supply lines. Our guild is just the easiest target to hit first.”

The room fell into tense silence. And Ludger knew. This was no longer a simple hunt. It was the first move in a much larger war.

Ludger exhaled slowly and tapped a finger against the table.

“I’ll send a message to the Velis League,” he said. “I’ll ask Linne and Dalan who among the high-ranking people there might have ties to something like this. If anyone knows which rats jumped ship when Verk fled, it’s them.”

Rathen nodded with a faint hum of approval, but Ludger lifted a hand before the man could look too relieved.

“But even if they respond quickly, investigations in Velis don’t move at our pace. And I don’t want to bother them unless absolutely necessary. We’ll handle whatever we can from this side first.”

Kaela leaned back in her chair, boots planted on the edge of Rathen’s desk like she owned the place. “Yeah, let the generals and bookworms in Velis do their own homework. We’ve got pirates to break.”

Maurien gave a faint nod in agreement, his expression sharp and unreadable. Renvar, for his part, hovered awkwardly on the far side of the room, like he wasn’t sure whether to look impressed or terrified.

Ludger refocused on Rathen. “Alright. What’s the plan? You wouldn’t have called us down here unless you already had one.”

Rathen took a deep breath and turned toward the map laid out across his desk. It was littered with marked routes, ink circles indicating attacks, and notes scribbled in the margins. The man planted both hands on the parchment.

“Since we have reinforcements now, we’re going to change the pattern,” he said. “For the next several days, we’re halting every shipment of mana cores. Completely. No cargo leaves the archipelago, not even decoys.”

Ludger arched an eyebrow. “You’re making them impatient.”

“Exactly.” Rathen’s eyes gleamed with a tired, grim cunning. “They’ve learned our usual timing. Our pacing. If we suddenly stop? It’ll rattle them. They’ll get antsy. They’ll start watching the waters more carefully. And when they finally see a shipment roll out again…”

Maurien finished the thought in a low voice. “They’ll commit everything they have.”

Rathen nodded. “Every ship. Every crew. Every cannon. They’ll jump us before the transport hits the halfway point.”

Renvar swallowed hard. “So… we’re the bait.”

Kaela snorted. “Obviously.”

Renvar deflated like a punctured wineskin.

Ludger ignored the exchange, eyes fixed on the map. “And the battle itself?”

“That’s where things get complicated,” Rathen said, jaw tightening. “If we try to fight them with cannons and runic engines alone, we lose. Their shields absorb too much, their hulls are reinforced, and their cannons outrange ours. We need to break them from the inside.”

He turned back to face the group fully.

“Ludger. Maurien. Kaela. And… him.” Rathen hesitated before glancing at Renvar, who straightened as if trying to appear less like a disaster waiting to happen.

“I need the four of you to board their ships once the fighting starts.”

Kaela’s grin widened instantly, predatory and eager. Maurien merely inclined his head, expression slipping into that calm, lethal focus he wore before hunts. Renvar looked like he’d just realized the ocean was full of sharks.

Rathen continued, voice steeled with authority:

“Once you’re onboard, your job is to cause as much internal chaos as possible. Disable their casters. Crack their mana shields. Wreck their cannons from within. Take out their officers. And if you get the chance, seize or sink their flagship.”

He paused, letting the enormity of the request settle.

“This won’t be a duel. Or a clean fight. It’ll be chaos. Smoke, fire, blood, and collapsing decks. But if you succeed, we win the war in a single battle.”

Ludger slowly nodded. “A boarding mission… dangerous, messy, and not something we can half-ass.”

He cracked his neck.

“Good.”

Renvar nearly choked. “GOOD?!”

“Yes,” Ludger said plainly. “Because blowing them up from the inside is easier than sinking them from outside.”

Kaela burst into laughter, wiping a tear of amusement. Maurien’s lips twitched, the closest thing he had to a smile. And for the first time in a while, Rathen looked like a man who could breathe again. He straightened.

“The shipment leaves in three days. I want you all ready by dawn.”

Ludger turned toward the door.

“We will be.”

And he meant it.

They stepped out of the Ironhand Guild Hall with the weight of the coming battle hanging over them like a storm-cloud. The harbor wind was sharp, laced with salt and the distant crash of waves. No one spoke at first. They all needed a moment to digest what Rathen had just laid on their shoulders.

Ludger steered the wagon toward the inn at the end of the pier, a sturdy, stone-reinforced building that smelled of seaweed, roasted fish, and tired sailors. The kind of place built to withstand storms, drunken brawls, and the occasional collapsing crane from the shipyards.

They needed rest. Proper rest. Not the light half-sleep they’d had the last few days underground. Ludger walked ahead of the group, hands in his pockets, thoughts circulating. He wanted to push Rathen for more intel, any scrap of information he might’ve held back. But the man wasn’t hiding anything. If he had known more about the pirates, he would’ve shared it. Rathen looked genuinely exhausted—half from overwork, half from the frustration of being outplayed by an enemy he couldn’t fully see.

So… what they knew was what they had. The rest, they’d discover on the battlefield. Behind him, Kaela stretched her arms overhead with a sharp crack of her spine.

“So…” she drawled, voice lazy but eyes alert. “Three days of waiting, huh? Why don’t we kill the time by heading to the labyrinth and smashing some runic golems? Get some practice. Test our coordination. Have some fun.”

Renvar snapped his head toward her like a dog hearing the word “treat.”

“Labyrinth training? That sounds amazing! I’ve never fought a runic golem! How big are they? Do they explode? Can we keep the cores? Do—”

Kaela grinned. “Yes, yes, yes, and no. The guild keeps the cores, we keep the money..”

“Fair,” Renvar said immediately, excitement undimmed.

Maurien, who had been quiet the whole walk, finally spoke as they reached the inn’s entrance.

“No,” he said calmly. “You three can go.”

Kaela arched an eyebrow. “You’re skipping training?”

“I will rest,” Maurien replied simply, stepping past them. “And I will prepare logistics, equipment, and supplies for the boarding operation. I will also inspect the harbor defenses and gather charts of the nearby shoals. When you return, everything will be ready.”

Renvar blinked. “…You do all that while we fight golems?”

Maurien paused at the door, giving him a level, almost bored glance.

“Yes.”

Then he went inside without another word. Kaela shrugged with a smirk. “That’s Maurien for you. He kills things cleanly and organizes paperwork with the same level of menace.”

Renvar whispered, “I want to be like him when I become as old as him.”

“No, you don’t, ” Ludger muttered.

They stood there a moment longer before Ludger turned toward the inn.

“Rest first. Then decide about the golems. We’ll need to be sharp when the pirates show up.”

Kaela nodded. Renvar saluted for some reason. And Ludger pushed open the inn door, ready to face whatever preparations the next three days would demand.

The next morning found Ludger awake before anyone else, boots sinking slightly into cool sand as he stood alone on the shoreline. Dawn was just beginning to break, a slow gradient of orange bleeding into the horizon, turning the ocean from a dark slab of shifting ink into a clearer, lighter blue. The world felt quiet here. Calmer. Almost honest.

Perfect time to think.

He inhaled the sea air, felt the salt sting faintly in his nose, and let his mana settle in his veins. Naval battles… he had never fought one before. But runes and wordweaving didn’t care where he stood, land or sea. If he could find something useful now, something that could break shields or disrupt formations from a distance, it would make boarding the pirate ships a lot easier. So he decided to push the boundaries.

He lifted his right hand and let mana flow out, condensing into thin glowing lines as he began to write in the air. The runic letters formed naturally, bending to his intent rather than strict design.

Meteor Shower.

The glowing words hovered in front of him, humming with potential. He braced himself—if this worked the way the name suggested, he’d be dealing with a massive crater and a very angry Rathen demanding to know why the beach was on fire.

But when the letters dissolved into light…

What materialized wasn’t celestial fire.

Or falling stars.

Or even anything remotely meteor-like.

Instead…

PLOP. PLOP. PLOP—PLOP-PLOP-PLOP.

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