Back home, the atmosphere was quieter—but no less heavy.

Elaine sat at the kitchen table, her hands wrapped around a still-warm cup of tea. She’d already heard the gist of the meeting from Arslan, and though he wore that familiar half-smile—the one that meant he had a plan—it did little to ease her worry. She could tell by the way he avoided her gaze that his “plan” involved risk. But instead of pressing him, she turned her attention to Ludger, who was crouched near the doorway, methodically packing a travel bag.

His movements were quick, efficient: rations, spare shirts, a few empty vials, and a neatly folded map. Elaine watched for a moment before speaking.

“So,” she said softly, “you’re going alone this time?”

Ludger glanced up, pausing mid-fold. “It’ll be faster that way,” he replied simply. “And… the more people that travel with Viola, the better. It’ll make a stronger impression—show that the Lionsguard and the Torvares family are moving together.”

Elaine tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. “And you? You’ll be fine on your own?”

Ludger gave a faint, tired smile. “It’s not the first time. Actually, it is, right? But I have a plan, no one will notice me leaving, when they notice, I will be pretty far away.”

That much was true, but Elaine’s eyes lingered on him all the same—quietly, knowingly. She’d seen the look in her son’s eyes before he left for missions like this: calm on the surface, but with something heavier stirring underneath.

She didn’t scold him or ask him to stay. Instead, she just sighed and reached for another cup, pouring him tea before he left—her small way of saying be careful, without needing to say it aloud.

Ludger caught the worry in his mother’s eyes. He hesitated for a moment, then sighed and straightened up. “Alright,” he said, lowering his voice. “Come with me. Both of you.”

Arslan raised an eyebrow but followed without question. Elaine set her cup down, curious and a little uneasy. Ludger led them down the hall to his room and quietly shut the door behind them.

He stepped into the middle of the floor, tapped his heel twice, and let mana flow through his leg. The wooden boards trembled, then parted with a soft grinding sound as the packed earth beneath shifted and sank away—revealing a dark, man-sized tunnel spiraling downward.

Elaine blinked. “Ludger… what in the world—”

“That,” Ludger said, motioning to the hole, “is what’s been causing the shaking you two keep hearing from my room.”

Arslan crouched beside it, peering into the shadowed opening. The air that rose from below was cool, carrying the faint scent of stone and torch oil. “You built this yourself?”

Ludger nodded. “For a while. It’s a secret exit—a backup route in case the town ever falls under siege or something worse happens. It branches into four tunnels that come out beyond the walls. No one knows of this.”

Elaine stared at him, half impressed, half horrified. “You built four tunnels under our home without telling us?”

Ludger gave a small shrug. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be much of a secret, would it?”

He crouched beside the opening and continued calmly, “If anything happens while I’m gone—Imperials, beasts, raiders—you can take the twins and slip out unnoticed. The passages are reinforced with geomancy; they won’t collapse. I am expanding it a little bit at a time, but it would be too easy If I could focus on this.”

Arslan looked down into the dark again, then gave a quiet, approving hum. “You really thought of everything.”

Ludger smiled faintly. “I just want to make sure you both have a way out. The guild can handle itself, but you guys… that’s on me.”

Elaine shook her head, equal parts exasperated and touched. “You’re ten,” she murmured.

Ludger smirked. “Yeah. And apparently, I’m the family’s emergency exit plan.”

Ludger glanced down into the tunnel, then back at his parents. “I’ll be using this to leave,” he said. “No need to make a scene or have half the guild asking where I’m going. I’ll travel mostly at night—it’ll keep things quiet and faster.”

Elaine’s brow furrowed. “You’re sneaking out of town like a thief?”

Ludger gave a small smirk. “More like a courier who doesn’t want to be interrupted.” He tightened the straps on his travel bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Besides, it’ll be more fun to surprise them.”

“Surprise who?” Arslan asked, though he already suspected the answer.

Ludger’s grin turned sharp. “The southern guild—and the Hakuen family. They’re expecting formal letters, polite arrivals, all the usual noble pageantry.” He crouched beside the tunnel’s edge, the faint glow of his geomancy lighting the way down. “Let’s see how they handle a reunion they didn’t plan for.”

Elaine sighed, rubbing her temples. “You sound far too pleased about this.”

“Gotta take the small victories where I can,” Ludger said, stepping into the tunnel. He looked back once, meeting their eyes. “Don’t worry. And if anything happens, use the tunnels. Don’t wait for me.”

Arslan nodded once, pride and concern mingling in his expression. “Go show them what you can build, Luds.”

Before heading into the tunnel, Ludger paused, resting a hand on the edge of the opening. “One last thing,” he said, glancing back at his father. “What do you know about that guildmaster and his people—the ones from the south? I want everything you’ve heard.”

Arslan crossed his arms, thinking for a moment before speaking.

“The man’s name is Rathen Vellmar,” he began. “Guildmaster of the Ironhand Syndicate. Old southern guild, older than most houses in the Empire. Started as miners and engineers, turned mercenary during the wars hundred of years ago, and then shifted to infrastructure—bridges, tunnels, fortresses. They sell construction, not soldiers, but the line blurs sometimes. Their mages build things that can kill armies just as easily as they can hold one.”

He walked closer, lowering his voice. “They’re based in the port city of Farlen, on the southern coast. It’s a trade hub crawling with noble agents and foreign merchants. The Syndicate sits right in the middle of it—untouchable because everyone owes them a favor. They’ve built half the docks, the sea walls, and probably a few secret keeps for nobles who pretend to hate them.”

Ludger listened quietly, committing each word to memory.

Arslan continued, his tone turning sharper. “As for Rathen himself—he’s known for keeping his hands clean. He doesn’t fight, doesn’t duel, doesn’t raise his voice. But people say his contracts never fail, and anyone who breaks one disappears. He’s smart, too—clever enough to make alliances with the kind of nobles who use money like a blade. That’s how he got close to House Hakuen in the first place.”

Ludger frowned. “So, he’s more merchant than mage.”

Ludger frowned, his fingers drumming lightly against the edge of his pack. “Something doesn’t add up,” he said. “If this Ironhand Syndicate is famous for building things, why do they need me and Gaius in the first place? You don’t call two geomancers across half the country just to dig trenches.”

Arslan nodded, already expecting that question. “They do

have earth mages,” he explained. “A fair number of them, actually. But none on your or Gaius’s level. Most of theirs are practical workers—foundation shapers, terrain smoothers, reinforcement casters. Useful, but limited in control and scale.”

He crossed his arms, his expression turning thoughtful. “From what I’ve heard, the Syndicate’s been trying to build that bridge for a while now. Quietly, without outside help. If they’re asking for geomancers like you two, it means something’s blocking them—and not just technically.”

Ludger’s eyes narrowed. “So it’s not a matter of skill.”

“Indeed,” Arslan said. “Maybe there’s a problem with the terrain, old ruins, buried wards, something magical or political. Could be sabotage, could be something in the sea itself. Hard to say.”

He gave Ludger a steady look. “That’s why you need to keep your guard up. If they’ve already failed with their own mages, and now they’re dragging you and Gaius into it, it means they’re hiding something—or someone is hiding it from them.”

Ludger nodded slowly, his mind already shifting into planning mode. “So I’m walking into a job they couldn’t finish, surrounded by people who don’t want to admit why. Perfect.”

Arslan chuckled dryly. “Just another day for the Lionsguard, huh?”

Ludger smirked faintly. “Pretty much.”

Arslan leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “How exactly are you planning to convince Gaius to help with this? The old man isn’t known for playing nice with politics—or people.”

Ludger shrugged, cinching the strap on his pack. “I’ll just ask once. If he says no, that’s the end of it.”

Arslan blinked. “That’s your whole plan?”

“Pretty much.” Ludger’s tone was calm, almost casual. “He already did a lot for us. I can’t keep bothering him every time someone wants a mountain moved. If he’s not interested, I’ll handle it myself.”

Arslan frowned. “Even if that slows everything down?”

Ludger nodded. “Then it slows down. I’m not dragging him into a political mess just because we could use his power. Unless Gaius already knows about what’s going on and chooses to step in, forcing the issue would just turn it into drama.”

He adjusted the buckle on his armguard and added, quieter, “The old man hates politics. He said sometimes that earth doesn’t lie, but people do. I’m not about to prove him right by trying to manipulate him into this.”

Arslan studied his son for a moment, then gave a small, wry smile. “You really did learn something from him after all.”

Ludger smirked faintly. “Yeah. Mostly how to dig my own holes—literally and figuratively.”

When night fell, the house was quiet except for the steady breathing of the twins. Their soft, uneven snores filled the room as Ludger stood by the crib, tucking the blanket a little tighter around them. He lingered there for a few seconds longer than he meant to, then turned toward his parents waiting by the doorway.

He kept his voice low. “I’m heading out. Just keep things normal. If anyone asks, tell them I’m buried in another manual.”

Elaine nodded, though her eyes stayed fixed on him, her worry barely hidden behind her calm face. Arslan, arms folded, gave a simple grunt that carried the weight of a hundred unspoken warnings.

“Be careful out there,” his father said finally.

Ludger smirked, slinging his pack over his shoulder. “You’re the one who needs to be careful. Traveling with Viola

and Freyra at the same time?” He gave a quiet, dry laugh. “That’s not a mission. That’s working with someone hammering two hammers in your head. A person can prepare for trouble, but when someone makes it double?”

Arslan chuckled under his breath. “Says the kid heading south through the night alone.”

Ludger shrugged. “Yeah, but at least the monsters I’ll meet can’t argue.”

He gave them both one last look, his expression softening briefly. Then, with a faint hum of earth magic, the floor under his feet shifted open—his secret tunnel yawning silently below.

“Stay safe,” Elaine whispered.

“Always,” Ludger replied, and with that, he slipped into the dark passage, sealing it quietly behind him as the house returned to silence.

The tunnel was dark—pitch black, the kind of black that pressed against the eyes—but Ludger moved through it with practiced ease. He didn’t need light down here; every twist, every junction was already mapped in his head.

His boots struck the packed earth in a steady rhythm as he let a faint pulse of geomancy ripple ahead of him, reading the tunnel like a bat senses air currents. The walls whispered his mana back in perfect alignment. No cracks, no cave-ins. Solid work.

A few minutes later, he broke into a light sprint. The ground seemed to move with him, softening and reshaping to smooth his path. It was a few kilometers to the southern exit—barely a jog by his standards—and he crossed the distance in minutes.

When he reached the end, he placed his hand on the earthen wall and willed it open. The packed soil split soundlessly, revealing a slope of grass and moonlight. Ludger climbed out behind a low hill, the night wind brushing his face.

He took a deep breath of the open air, then turned and sealed the exit behind him. A quick twist of mana smoothed the disturbed dirt, erasing every trace that anyone had ever been there.

Satisfied, Ludger smirked. “Alright,” he murmured to himself. “Time to play the secret agent.”

He adjusted his scarf, checked the direction of the stars, and started runnin south—quiet, unseen, and grinning at the thought of the surprise waiting for the guild and the Hakuen family.

Back home, the house felt heavier without Ludger’s quiet presence.

Arslan and Elaine returned to their room in silence, the faint creak of the floorboards the only sound between them.

Arslan sat on the edge of the bed, unbuckling his boots, when he noticed something off—Elaine wasn’t scolding, fretting, or pacing the room like she usually did whenever their son went off on another dangerous errand. Instead, she was calmly brushing her hair by the window, her expression unreadable.

He frowned. “You’re taking this awfully well,” he said.

Elaine gave a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “He’ll be fine,” she said softly. “Ludger’s already stronger than you.”

Arslan blinked. “That’s not true,” he said automatically.

Elaine glanced over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Isn’t it?”

A bead of sweat slid down Arslan’s temple. “...No. I’m still stronger.”

She didn’t answer—just turned back to the window, the faintest curve of amusement tugging at her lips.

For a long moment, the room stayed quiet. The air between them held a strange mix of affection, pride, and that quiet realization all parents reached eventually—that their child had long since outgrown their shadow.

Arslan stood up suddenly and grabbed his sword from the rack. “I’m going to train outside for a bit,” he muttered.

Elaine hummed, still calm. “Try not to break the fence this time.”

He grunted something that might’ve been agreement as he stepped out into the cool night air. The moon hung high over Lionfang, and the faint sounds of the sleeping town echoed in the distance.

Arslan tightened his grip on his blade, exhaled, and began to practice his swings under the pale light—each one sharp, measured, and just a little faster than the last. He didn’t want to lose to his son yet… he was quite sure that he thought about that a bunch of times already.

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