Over the next few days, the house changed in small but obvious ways. Ludger and Luna, who had barely exchanged more than polite words before, now lingered at corners of the house together. By the well, in the kitchen doorway, or walking back from errands—they were always there, side by side.

Their conversations were quiet, clipped, and serious. Ludger’s arms crossed, Luna’s gaze steady, both of them leaning close enough that anyone watching would know they weren’t joking around.

Elaine noticed first. She sat in the entrance , embroidery needle paused in her hand as her eyes narrowed on the pair outside the window. “Strange,” she muttered. “Those two hardly spoke a word last month, and now they’re practically glued together.”

Viola, perched on the arm of the chair with her boots dangling, leaned forward to peer outside as well. Her brow furrowed. “Chummy all of a sudden, aren’t they? What are they even talking about?”

When Ludger and Luna walked past again—Ludger gesturing with quick little cuts of his hand, Luna nodding gravely, both with their lips pressed tight into lines—Viola puffed her cheeks and crossed her arms. “See? That’s not normal chatting. That’s… plotting.”

Elaine hummed in agreement, though her frown deepened. “And what could a maid and a seven-year-old possibly need to plot with such grim faces?”

Neither of them had an answer. And that unsettled them more than they cared to admit.

By the fourth day, Viola couldn’t take it anymore. Every time she caught Ludger and Luna whispering, her teeth ground together like flint on steel.

So, naturally, she decided to eavesdrop.

She crouched behind the garden hedge, boots digging into the soil, head bobbing up just enough to peek over the leaves. Ludger and Luna were by the entrance, voices low. Luna leaned in, lips barely moving. Ludger tapped his shin guard with a fingertip, then traced a little circle on the stone rim of the fountain. Both of them looked like generals discussing troop movements, not a child and a maid.

“What are you two up to?” Viola whispered to herself, eyes narrowing. “Don’t think you can leave me out of your secret meetings…”

She shifted for a better angle, but her boot caught a root. She stumbled forward, smacked into the hedge, and toppled straight through the leaves.

Her muffled yelp cut the air. Leaves tangled in her hair, dirt streaked her cheek, and her dignity lay somewhere back in the bush.

Ludger didn’t even flinch. He looked at her sprawled on the ground, deadpan as ever. “…You really are terrible at stealth.”

Luna, ever composed, bent slightly and offered Viola a hand up. “Young lady, perhaps you should ask directly instead of—”

“I was not spying!” Viola snapped, face red as she slapped the leaves off her dress. “I was just… testing your awareness! Yes. Making sure you weren’t being sloppy.”

Ludger smirked, just enough to make her bristle more. “Mm. You failed your own test, then.”

Viola huffed, fists on her hips. “I’ll find out what you’re hiding sooner or later!”

She stormed off, still covered in hedge debris, while Luna let out the faintest exhale of a sigh. Ludger only shook his head, lips curling in the ghost of a grin.

Later that evening, when the house was finally quiet again, Ludger and Luna sat at the far end of the courtyard.

“They’re too patient,” Ludger muttered, rolling a pebble in his hand. “If they were just scouts, they’d have reported back already. If they were killers, they’d have tried something by now. So what are they waiting for?”

Luna folded her hands neatly in her lap. Her gaze never wavered, as if she’d already considered the answer. “Timing,” she said. “They’ll act when circumstances favor them. Assassins don’t throw themselves into the open unless the ground has already shifted beneath their target’s feet.”

Ludger frowned. “Meaning?”

“Two things.” Her voice was steady, but there was a chill beneath it. “The first is the war. If the fighting in the north worsens, the defenses of the region will be stretched thin. Less vigilance, fewer eyes to notice blood spilled in the alleys. That’s when blades like theirs move.”

Ludger let the pebble drop and cracked his knuckles against his shin guard. “…And the second?”

She hesitated for a moment, then said it flatly: “When Lord Torvares returns. His presence anchors this region, deterring action simply by existing. The instant he steps back inside his lands, it confirms to anyone watching that they must strike before he consolidates his strength again.”

The lantern hissed as the flame fluttered in the night breeze. Ludger stared into it, expression hardening. Both scenarios were ugly—chaos outside, or an ambush waiting for her grandfather’s return.

“So either the war bleeds too far,” he said, “or they gamble on a window before her Grandfather gets back.”

Luna inclined her head. “Exactly. Which means… their patience won’t last forever.”

Ludger leaned back, lips curling into a humorless smile. “Good. Then all we have to do is strike before they decide anything.”

Luna watched him smirk into the lantern light, then shook her head. “Outlasting them isn’t enough. If you want to surprise enemies like these, you’ll need to learn something first.”

Ludger tilted his head. “And that is?”

“Silence.”

He blinked. “I’m already quiet.”

“Not quiet enough,” she replied. “Children walk heavy. They drag their feet, stomp without realizing it. You’d give yourself away before you even reached a corner.” She rose smoothly, like a shadow peeling off the courtyard wall. “If you want to catch those watchers unawares, you must erase your sound. Step by step.”

Ludger sighed, but pushed himself up. “Fine. Show me.”

Luna nodded, her expression still calm, but her tone sharpened into that of an instructor.

“First: breathe through your nose. Short, controlled. If you pant like you’ve been running drills, even the deaf will hear you.”

She moved past him, the soles of her boots kissing the stones without a single scrape.

“Second: the heel should never slam first. Roll your foot from the outer edge, then let the weight spread forward to the toes. Shift like you’re testing the floor for weakness.”

She circled him now, her steps ghostlike. Ludger tried to mimic, and the faint scuff of leather echoed. He grimaced.

“Third: keep your balance low,” she continued. “Bent knees. You are not striding, you are gliding. Each step is a promise, not a declaration.”

Ludger adjusted, this time moving smoother. Less noise. He caught himself smirking despite the sweat beading at his brow.

“Better,” Luna said softly. “And lastly… the eyes follow the ground before the feet do. You look, then step. Never trust the floor. The smallest pebble betrays more than a shout.”

Ludger rolled his shoulders, practicing once, twice, three times—each quieter than before. His body adjusted, muscles loosening into the rhythm she demanded. His mana stirred faintly, aligning to this new pattern of controlled movement.

Then, a pulse.

A translucent window shimmered before his eyes.

[Class Unlocked: Assassin – Master: Luna] Bonus per level: +2 Dex, +2 End, +3 Luk

[Skill Gained: Silent Steps]: Reduces the sound of all movement. Each successful stealth step check increases duration and sharpens perception of sound. Level increases the distance of the effect of the skill.

Ludger blinked at the glowing text, a grin tugging at his lips. “Well, would you look at that. The world approves.”

Luna tilted her head slightly, unaware of the system window but noting his sudden change of expression. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Ludger said, grin sharpening into something sly. “Just a step closer to catching rats.”

The next night, Luna set the test. The halls of home lay dim under lantern light, shadows stretching long between the pillars.

“From here,” Luna whispered, gesturing to the corridor, “to the kitchen without a sound. I’ll follow. If I hear you, I’ll stop you.”

Ludger rolled his shoulders, feet spreading lightly on the marble tiles. “Kitchen raid. Got it.”

“This is not a raid,” Luna corrected sharply. “It’s survival.”

He smirked and stepped forward. Heel to edge, weight forward, knees bent—just as she drilled. The first two steps scraped slightly, too sharp, but then something clicked. His body flowed into rhythm, each footfall rolling like water over stone. His breath evened, chest rising and falling in silent cadence.

Luna’s ears caught nothing. Not the slap of a heel, not the whisper of cloth. Only the faint tick of the lantern flame.

By the time Ludger slipped past the first archway, Luna’s brows had drawn tight. Already?

She trailed behind, waiting for the mistake that always came—an ankle twist, a stumble, a careless scuff. But there was nothing. The boy glided down the hall with the poise of someone years into practice, not minutes. His pace was unhurried, balanced, predatory.

At the kitchen threshold, Ludger turned, his grin smug in the shadows. “Made it.”

Luna frowned. Not in disapproval—more in disbelief. “You… should not be able to move like that so quickly.”

He shrugged, red-silver armguards glinting faintly as he shifted his weight. “Guess I’m a fast learner.”

“Even so,” she said, her voice low, “I have seen grown men train months to achieve half that silence. You… you learn too fast.”

Ludger only tilted his head, feigning innocence.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she said nothing more. Instead she gestured for him to continue. “Again. But this time, past Lady Elaine’s door. If she wakes, you fail.”

A dry smile cut across Ludger’s face. “Perfect. Nothing like a little death-wish difficulty to keep training interesting.”

And with that, he sank back into the shadows, steps vanishing into the hush of home.

Task after task, he moved like water through the house. Past Elaine’s door without a single creak of wood, across the gravel in the rear courtyard without a pebble shifting, even through the pantry’s clutter where one wrong step would have sent pots clanging.

Each time Luna gave a nod, expecting the next mistake to come. Each time, Ludger delivered silence instead. No stumble, no scuff, no trace.

By the final test—slipping across the atrium rafters above the main hall—he was no longer just mimicking her lessons. He was flowing through them, body adjusting mid-step as though instinct itself guided him. When he landed beside her again, quiet as a falling feather, his smirk was already waiting.

“Passed?” he asked.

Luna’s arms folded across her chest. She had been frowning since the first hallway, but now the expression was sharper, heavier. “You didn’t just pass. You perfected it.”

“Good,” Ludger said simply, brushing a bit of dust from his shin guard.

Her eyes lingered on him, thoughtful and wary. “It isn’t natural.”

Ludger met her gaze without flinching, the smirk fading into something flatter. “Maybe not. But it’s useful.”

The air between them hung still for a moment, then Luna inclined her head ever so slightly. “Then I’ll stop doubting your intent. You asked for this to catch enemies. Now you truly can.”

She turned toward the corridor, voice quiet but edged with steel. “Just remember—silence is a blade. And once you learn to wield it, you cannot put it down.”

Ludger followed her back into the dim hall, his steps ghosting over stone. No scrape, no sound, nothing left behind but a faint chill where he had passed.

The next morning, Ludger slipped away from home under the excuse of “errands.” Elaine bought it—barely—since Luna trailed behind him with her usual calm. In truth, they weren’t shopping for herbs or candles. He was here to see if Silent Steps worked outside polished stone floors and neat courtyards.

The city streets were alive with noise—hooves clattering, merchants shouting, children darting between stalls. Perfect cover for testing.

“Remember,” Luna murmured, walking beside him, “control is more important than vanishing. If you startle people, you expose yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ludger muttered, scanning the crowd. His eyes settled on a fishmonger stacking crates. Perfect mark. He adjusted his stance, breath even, weight low. Then he slid forward.

His boots kissed the cobbles without a sound. He rolled each step as Luna taught, threading his way through the shifting crowd. The fishmonger never turned. Ludger came within arm’s reach, close enough to smell salt and brine—then deliberately scuffed his heel just enough to be heard.

The man glanced over his shoulder, nodded absently at the “kid” passing by, then returned to his crates. No suspicion. No alarm.

Not bad.

Next, a tougher test. A street guard, leaning on his spear, half-watching the crowd. Ludger approached at an angle, slow, steady, letting Silent Steps dull the sound of his boots. Five meters. Three. Two. The guard’s gaze didn’t shift until Ludger wanted him to notice—when he cleared his throat softly and walked past like any other child. The guard only gave him a bored glance before looking away.

Luna’s eyes tracked every movement, unreadable as always. But he caught the faint furrow in her brow.

“Most children your age cannot even hide while standing still,” she said quietly. “And you just walked through two adults’ awareness without them realizing. That is…” She hesitated. “…remarkable. And dangerous.”

Ludger smirked, shoving his hands into his pockets. “So it works. Good. Now I can get close without ringing alarm bells.”

“Just do not forget,” Luna warned, her tone sharpening, “that true hunters will sense more than sound. Your silence must become instinct, not just a trick.”

“Don’t worry.” Ludger’s grin thinned into something more pragmatic. “I’ll test it on harder targets next time.”

The crowd swallowed them up, Ludger’s steps vanishing into the noise of the city—so quiet that even silence itself seemed to bend around him.

Ludger’s eyes drifted toward the barracks square at the edge of the marketplace. A knot of city guards drilled there—spears raised, boots stamping in rhythm. Not fishmongers or half-asleep watchmen. These men were trained to notice.

“Thinking of something reckless?” Luna asked softly, following his gaze.

“Just curious,” he muttered. He adjusted his stance, let Silent Steps flow into his muscles, and drifted toward the edge of their circle. One boot rolled, then the other. Not a sound. He circled behind a pair of guards laughing at some crude joke. For a heartbeat, he was inside their shadow, close enough to tug a belt strap loose.

Then one of them paused mid-laugh, shoulders tensing. His eyes flicked over his shoulder, just grazing past Ludger before settling back on the drill yard.

Close. Too close.

Ludger’s pulse steadied. He let the silence fade and strolled back toward Luna, just another child weaving through the crowd. No alarm raised—but the itch at the back of his neck told him he’d pushed too far.

“Not bad,” Luna admitted, her eyes narrowing. “But if you keep testing trained soldiers, someone will notice eventually.”

He smirked, though his mind was already racing elsewhere. She’s right. Too obvious. Too suspicious. Can’t afford that kind of attention yet.

Still, as he flexed his legs, a thought struck him like a spark in dry tinder. Silent Steps with [Dash]…

The idea unfurled in his head, wild and absurd. Dash was speed, pure and violent, a burst of momentum that cracked the air. Silent Steps turned each movement into a ghost’s glide. Together? He pictured himself vanishing and reappearing like a phantom, faster than eyes could track, quieter than breath itself.

His grin sharpened. “Yeah,” he murmured to himself. “That’d be insane.”

Luna glanced at him, brow raised. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” Ludger said, voice dry. “Just planning new ways to make rats regret being born.”

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