The work never stopped.

Through the rest of the day, Ludger’s world narrowed to blood, sweat, and glowing hands. The wounded never ceased—soldiers dragging comrades with broken ribs, others coughing up soot, others half-dead but refusing to let go of their weapons. Ludger moved with Aronia from one to the next, healing until his core burned raw, resting just long enough to breathe before diving back in.

When night fell, nothing changed. The cries of the dying replaced the chants of shamans, the square lit by fire pits where surgeons cut and priests whispered prayers. Ludger’s vision blurred more than once, his body threatening to collapse, but every time he thought of slowing, another soldier screamed. Another man bled out. And he forced himself to keep going.

It was only when the gray light of dawn bled into the ruins that his legs gave way. He stumbled into the mud, his arms trembling, his body empty of mana and strength alike. He meant to sit, just for a moment, just to breathe.

Instead, his eyes closed. Sleep took him instantly. He dreamed of nothing—just silence, as though his body had been too wrung out even for nightmares.

When he woke, it was dark again. The campfires flickered low, their smoke twisting into the night. His stomach growled like an angry beast, the sound loud in the quiet. His arms ached, his throat was dry, and his entire body felt heavier than stone. He realized then that he had slept through the day away. For the first time since the battle began, he was still.

But the hunger clawing at his gut reminded him the war wasn’t over—he was alive, and being alive meant he had to move again.

Name: Ludger

Level: 36 (2,450 / 3,700)

Current Job: Cook (Lv 35 – 620 / 3,500)

Current Class: Pugilist (Lv 36 – 1,300 / 3,700)

Health: 1490 / 1490

Mana: 2280 / 2280

Stamina: 2880 / 2880

Strength: 157

Dexterity: 172

Intelligence: 214

Vitality: 149

Wisdom: 288

Endurance: 208

Luck: 75

🔹 Classes & Job Skills

Pugilist Lv 36 (+2 STR, +2 VIT/level)

[Hard Fists Lv 25]

[Iron Guard Lv 17]

[Quick Fists Lv 12]

[Straight Cannon Lv 03]

[Quick Kicks Lv 03]

[Bone Breaker Lv 01]

Bodyslam Lv 01]

[Headbutt Lv 01]

Cook Lv 35 (+1 DEX, +1 INT, +1 WIS/level)

[Knife Handling Lv 30]

[Seasoning Sense Lv 22]

[Fire Control Lv 19]

[Food Preservation Lv 18]

[Dish Presentation Lv 15]

[Quick Cooking Lv 05]

[Brewing Lv 05]

[Butchery Lv 01]

Mage Lv 28 (+2 INT, +2 WIS/level)

[Create Water Lv 28]

[Tinder Lv 20]

[Dust Lv 14]

[Cold Wind Lv 14]

[Mana Pulse Lv 11]

[Fireball Lv 01]

Swordsman Lv 26 (+2 STR, +2 DEX/level)

[Basic Swordplay Lv 22]

[Parry Lv 15]

[Quick Thrust Lv 13]

[Counter Stance Lv 03]

[Guard Break Lv 11]

[Counter Swing Lv 01]

Sage Lv 29 (+2 INT, +4 WIS/level)

[Mana Bolt Lv 15]

[Mana Wall Lv 06]

[Spiritual Core Lv 22]

[Meditation Lv 11]

[Mana Armor Lv 01]

[Mana Arrow Lv 01]

Druid Lv 19 (+3 INT, +3 WIS/level)

[Healing Touch Lv 26]

[Root Snare Lv 01]

[Herbal Whisper Lv 01]

[Plant Growth Lv 01]

Bard Lv 04 (+1 INT, +1 WIS, +1 DEX/level)

[Song of Ease Lv 08]

Courier Lv 19(+1 DEX, +3 END/level)

[Dash Lv 15]

[Quickstrike Lv 11]

[Focused Stride Lv 01]

[Stamina Regen Lv 04]

Assassin Lv 16 (+2 DEX, +2 END, +3 LUK/level)

[Silent Steps Lv 16]

[Backstab Lv 04]

[Dual Wielding Lv 01]

[Knife Throwing Lv 01]

Tactician Lv 4 (+3 INT, +3 DEX/level)

[Tactical Insight Lv 08]

His classes had all improved—some more than others. His mana pool especially felt different, deep and denser like a reservoir he hadn’t known he carried. Well, he used some free points into that, so it made sense.

“…So that’s what it looks like,” Ludger muttered, scrolling the numbers. “Blood, sweat, sleepless nights… and the System says I’m stronger.”

And the truth was—he was. He could feel it in his body, in the sharpness of his thoughts, in the way mana responded to him now. All the endless hours of healing, all the screaming men he dragged back from the edge, all the wounds patched in the middle of firestorms… the System had turned it into growth. Given all the work, it felt right.

He exhaled, eyes shutting for a moment, the numbers still burned into his vision. It wasn’t pride exactly, but something steadier: confirmation. Proof that the hell he’d endured hadn’t been meaningless. The battlefield had made him stronger. And he knew it was only the beginning.

The night was quiet, the air thick with the smell of ash and damp stone. The army had moved into the ruins, setting up tents where streets once stood. With the houses half-burned or toppled, there was no shelter but canvas.

Ludger sat in the corner of his tent, still feeling the echo of exhaustion in his bones when the flap opened. Viola stepped in, Luna behind her, both carrying a wooden tray heavy with bread, roasted meat, and a battered flask of water.

“Finally awake, huh?” Viola grinned, dropping the tray in front of him. “You should’ve seen yourself when we found you—passed out in the mud, face-first like a drunk. You looked pathetic.”

Ludger frowned and reached for the bread. “And yet, somehow, I’m still prettier than you after two days of fighting.”

Viola clicked her tongue. “Yeah, right… If Luna hadn’t cleaned you up, you’d still look like a half-burned corpse.”

Ludger paused mid-bite, raising a brow. “…She did what?”

Viola smirked. “Washed your face, wiped all the grime off, fixed your hair. She even got mud out of your ears. You owe her, little brother.”

Luna didn’t say anything, just lowered her eyes, expression unreadable under the faint candlelight. Her hands were folded neatly in front of her, posture calm as ever.

Ludger glanced at her, then back at Viola. “So, what—you two play nurse while I snored through the day?”

“More like Luna did all the work while I laughed at you.” Viola grinned wider, clearly enjoying herself. “Honestly, if anyone else had walked in, they might’ve thought you were some pampered little noble boy instead of the mud-soaked healer who dragged half the camp back from death.”

Ludger sighed, tearing into the bread. “Great. Saved lives all night, and my reward is babysitting jokes.”

“Not jokes,” Viola said, sitting cross-legged across from him, eyes sharper now. “Proof you’re still human. Everyone’s been looking at you like you’re… something else. I figured you’d need reminding.”

Ludger chewed slowly, watching her, but didn’t answer. He just kept eating, while Luna’s quiet presence lingered beside her. The camp outside was silent, but in that small tent, it almost felt normal—like war hadn’t burned the town to the ground.

Ludger didn’t waste time with manners. The moment the tray hit the ground, he tore into the bread and meat like a starved beast. Viola blinked at the sight, then snorted.

“Slow down, you’ll choke.”

He ignored her, drinking half the flask in one go, then tearing another hunk of meat free with his teeth. His stomach roared in approval, every bite chasing away the hollow ache that had been clawing at him since before the battle. By the time he finally leaned back, the tray was almost clean, his breathing heavier from eating than from talking.

“…Better,” he muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. His eyes narrowed, sharper now. “Alright. Catch me up. What happened while I was out? The rest of the day, the army… what about the barbarians?”

Viola’s smile slipped, replaced by a more serious look. She exchanged a glance with Luna, then folded her arms. “You slept through the whole damn day, you know. While you were drooling, grandfather had the men clear the last pockets of resistance. We’ve secured the walls, and the town’s secured. What’s left of the barbarians tried a few desperate charges outside, but… nothing serious. Just madness.”

Luna’s calm voice cut in, quiet but steady. “Scouts reported scattered groups fleeing north into the labyrinth. They’re disorganized, broken. But not gone. Some of the shamans survived. They could regroup.”

Ludger frowned, his hand tightening around the empty flask. So they’re not finished… just scattered.

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “What about our side? Losses?”

Viola’s mouth twisted. “Too many. Grandfather says hundreds, maybe more. He made another speech about honoring the fallen. Soldiers are pretending it’s enough, but…” She trailed off, shaking her head.

Ludger exhaled through his nose, gaze dropping to the dirt floor of the tent. He thought of the ruined streets, the burned homes, the bodies stacked higher than the walls themselves. And then of the way the barbarians had fought, glass-eyed and raging, even when their own flesh failed them. Something wasn’t over. Not yet.

With his belly full and his head no longer spinning from hunger, Ludger leaned back against the tent pole, arms crossed. The haze of exhaustion had cleared just enough for his thoughts to settle into focus.

“I get it now,” he muttered, more to himself than to either of them. “The barbarians… they didn’t just fight to hold this town. They destroyed it on purpose.”

Viola blinked, frowning. “What do you mean?”

Ludger’s eyes narrowed, his voice steady. “Look around you. Every street, every house, every wall—burned, toppled, gutted. That wasn’t chaos from battle. It was deliberate. They tore this place apart because they knew they could lose it. If they couldn’t keep the town, they’d make sure the empire couldn’t use it either.”

He tapped a finger against his knee, his tone sharp. “Even if we hold this ground, it’s useless. No fortifications, no supplies, no shelter. Just rubble and ash. We can’t turn it into a stronghold to push deeper. We can’t even properly defend it if they come back. They saw this coming, and they planned for it.”

Luna’s gaze flicked to him, her expression unreadable but her silence heavy, as though she’d come to the same conclusion long before he said it.

Viola’s mouth tightened, her usual bravado gone. “So you’re saying… even after all this, after how many men died here… it doesn’t matter?”

Ludger gave a bitter half-smile. “It matters for morale. It matters that we broke them here. But strategically?” He shook his head. “No. The barbarians already won the long game. This town’s a corpse, and corpses don’t make fortresses.”

The words hung in the tent, heavier than the smell of ash drifting in from outside.

The flap of the tent rustled, and Arslan ducked inside, shoulders filling the space like a wall of muscle and soot. His armor was scorched, his hair matted with blood, but his eyes still burned sharp. He carried the smell of smoke and steel with him.

He glanced first at Viola, then at Luna, and finally at Ludger. His son still sat slouched against the pole, arms crossed, the half-empty tray at his feet.

“I heard,” Arslan said, voice low but even. “And he’s right.”

Viola looked up, startled. “Father—”

Arslan raised a hand. “Luds sees it for what it is. The barbarians gutted this town before we ever set foot inside. They fought to deny us, not to keep it. No walls to hold, no stores to feed us, no homes to shield us. It’s ash by design.”

He let the words hang, heavy, then turned his gaze back to Ludger. For a moment, the corner of his mouth tugged upward into a tired grin. “I came here to congratulate you. To thank you. You carried half the army on your back yesterday. Without you, the wedge would’ve broken before the gate.”

His hand twitched, as though he wanted to clap Ludger’s shoulder, but he let it fall. His son’s face wasn’t one that wanted praise.

“But…” Arslan sighed, running a bloodied thumb along his sword’s handle. “I can see you don’t want to hear it. Not now.”

Ludger met his father’s gaze and said nothing. His expression was calm, but his eyes were still sharp, still searching the edges of the war like he was already two steps ahead. Arslan studied him for a moment longer, then nodded once. “Fine. Another time, then.”

The silence in the tent stretched, the weight of victory soured by the truth both father and son recognized.

The silence dragged until Viola huffed, crossing her arms. “You two really know how to kill a victory, don’t you? We won. The town is ours again. The barbarians lost. Can’t you just say it’s good news for once?”

Ludger raised a brow at her, unimpressed. Arslan almost smiled at her fire, but his eyes stayed heavy.

Viola pushed on. “So the buildings are gone, so what? At least the barbarians don’t have a fortress anymore. They can’t rain fire on us from the walls again. Next time we meet them, it’ll be in the open. That’s better, isn’t it?”

For a moment, she almost sounded convincing. But then her words slowed, her face tightening as the thought caught up to her.

“The labyrinth…” she whispered.

Ludger’s gaze sharpened. Viola’s shoulders sagged. “If the town’s gone, then we can’t reclaim it. Not now. Not for years. And the labyrinth is buried with it.”

She fell silent, the weight of the realization pressing her small frame down. The one advantage they could have turned into steady ground—the labyrinth’s riches, its mana stones, its defenses—was gone, swallowed in smoke and rubble.

“At least,” Viola said finally, voice quieter, “at least the barbarians won’t have all the advantages next time.” She tried to make it sound defiant, but the words rang hollow.

The tent went quiet again. The war wasn’t over, but standing here in the ashes, it was hard to imagine anything happening soon.

Ludger leaned back against the tent pole, his face unreadable. He didn’t gloat, didn’t say I told you so. He just let the silence stretch, the truth sitting between them like a stone too heavy to move.

Arslan let out a low chuckle, not the reckless kind he carried into battle, but the rough-edged one he used when he wanted to cut tension. He leaned his sword against the tent pole and crossed his arms, eyeing both Ludger and Viola.

“You two don’t need to chew on what comes next,” he said. His tone was lighter than the weight of his words. “You’ve already done more than enough. More than most grown men here could’ve managed. If you keep trying to shoulder everything, the rest of us won’t have any face left to show.”

Viola frowned. “But—”

Arslan raised a hand, silencing her before she could press. “No. Listen. You fought, you healed, you carried soldiers back from death. That’s already beyond what anyone had the right to expect of children. If you do any more, the rest of us will look useless. And I’m not about to let my son or my daughter shame half the army.”

His words carried a smirk, but there was steel under it. He meant it.

Ludger met his father’s eyes, then glanced at Viola, who looked ready to argue again but clenched her teeth instead. For once, she didn’t fight him.

Arslan rumbled a laugh and reached for his sword. “Good. Let the adults carry the next steps. You’ve earned your rest. If anyone says otherwise, they can take it up with me.”

The way he said it left no room for doubt—no captain, no soldier, not even Lord Torvares would risk mocking the children after Arslan himself had drawn the line.

Ludger exhaled quietly, leaning back again. Viola still looked frustrated, but the sharp edge in her eyes softened.

For now, they were off the hook.

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