The next several days dragged on painfully, each one weighed down by the slow churn of the Imperial Guard’s investigation. Bureaucracy moved at the pace of a dying snail, papers to approve, testimonies to collect, permissions to request. Ludger could practically feel each hour scraping past.

  Meanwhile, the recruits were starting to lose their minds.

  By the third day, Rhea was pacing so much she’d worn grooves in the courtyard floor.

  By the fourth, Taron, bored and curious, almost set off a rune explosion experimenting in a guest room. By the fifth, Mira had polished her bow to a mirror finish and was glaring at anyone who breathed too close to it.

  They were frustrated, restless, and one bad moment away from climbing the walls. So Ludger made the only sensible decision he could.

  “Fine,” he announced one morning. “We spar. Daily. All of you.”

  The reaction was immediate. The recruits practically lit up, their eyes suddenly bright with excitement, and, annoyingly, something like admiration. Ludger felt a headache brewing, but he didn’t retract the offer.

  They set up in the Torvares training courtyard, a large open space of reinforced stone that had seen its share of drills. The recruits stretched eagerly, the energy rolling off them sharp and hungry. Ludger took his position at the center, rolling his wrists and loosening his stance.

  “Come at me however you want,” he said. “One at a time. In pairs. All together. Doesn’t matter.”

  Rhea stepped forward first, brimming with enthusiasm. Derrin followed, adjusting his grip on the practice spear. Taron and Callen took positions at the side, watching intently, while Mira kept her bow lowered but ready, analyzing every movement Ludger made.

  The way they looked at him was… irritating. Respectful. Focused. Trusting.

  He didn’t dislike them, not at all. But the way their gazes carried an unspoken we believe in you too much made something tighten in his chest. Ludger wasn’t used to being anyone’s anchor.

  Still, he pushed that aside. He met Rhea’s strike head-on, redirected Derrin’s follow-up, avoided Mira’s feint, and countered Taron’s rune-assisted attack with clean precision. The courtyard echoed with the rhythm of clashing limbs, falling bodies, and short bursts of mana. Sweat hit the stone. Breathing grew heavier. Yet every time they fell, the recruits got back up with fierce determination.

  Between exchanges, Ludger caught the occasional smile, Mira’s small, proud one after landing a difficult shot; Derrin’s quiet grin when he managed to push Ludger back a step; Callen’s relieved exhale when he nailed a technique he’d been struggling with.

  That respect in their eyes never faded, no matter how many times they were knocked down.

  If anything, it grew. He tried to ignore it the best he could.

  They sparred every day, using the time to sharpen their bodies while the investigation crawled along. The fights gave structure to the uncertainty, something solid to hold onto while the politics in the capital continued to shift like sand.

  A full week crawled by before anything finally shifted.

  The group was gathered in the manor’s living room that evening—Viola seated beside a stack of reports, Maurien leaning against a pillar with arms crossed, Kaela sprawled across a couch upside down for no reason at all, and Ludger nursing a cup of something warm he didn’t bother identifying. The recruits were scattered around the estate doing drills or resting. The mood was… steady, if still tense.

  Then a sudden gust of wind swept through the open window, sharp, cool, swirling the curtains like a living thing. And Luna stepped out of it.

  Her appearance was silent, abrupt, and almost spectral, like she had simply materialized from the draft itself. Light armor, hood lowered, twin knives at her sides, and that unreadable look she always wore after watching people for days on end.

  Viola straightened immediately. “Welcome back.”

  Luna walked forward without a word at first, dusting a few stray leaves from her cloak. Only then did she nod, acknowledging the greeting.

  “You were gone longer than expected,” Viola said. “Did you find anything?”

  Luna’s eyes flicked over the group, then she gave a single, quiet nod.

  “Yes.”

  Everyone stopped what they were doing. Even Kaela righted herself, suddenly alert.

  Luna continued, voice calm and cool as always. “The Imperial Guard is conducting its investigation correctly. Thoroughly. They already sent a pair to Coria to gather testimonies about the attack and the disappearance of Verk. They’re cross-checking statements and matching timelines.”

  Ludger exhaled slowly. That was at least something going right.

  Luna shifted slightly, her expression tightening just a fraction. “Meanwhile, House Roderick has been active. Very active. They’ve had frequent meetings with several Senate members, unusual ones, held at irregular hours.”

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  Maurien frowned. “Who are they meeting?”

  “I don’t know,” Luna said plainly. “I can’t get close enough.”

  Viola leaned forward. “Why not?”

  Luna looked at her directly. “Because the Roderick estate is covered with layered mana barriers. I can’t bypass them discreetly, not without breaking them entirely or alerting everyone inside.”

  That made the room fall into a brief, heavy silence.Barriers that strong weren’t for simple privacy. They were for hiding something.

  Kaela clicked her tongue. “So they’re discussing something big. Probably panicking about Eldric’s little performance at the meeting.”

  Maurien added, “Or planning their next move.”

  Ludger’s jaw tightened, but he stayed quiet, thinking, analyzing.

  Luna looked toward him for the first time since arriving. “Whatever they are preparing… they are being extremely careful.”

  Viola nodded slowly. “Which means the investigation is getting close to something. Close enough that the Rodericks feel pressured.”

  Luna’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Yes.”

  The wind coming through the window rustled again, cooler this time, almost foreboding. And Ludger understood something very important: The calm of the last week wasn’t stability. It was the quiet before the next blow landed.

  Ludger leaned back in his chair, the tension around his shoulders easing just enough for him to shift his gaze toward Luna.

  “The Imperial Guard is doing this kind of work,” he said. “Is that normal? Sending teams across borders, interviewing witnesses themselves… do they do that often?”

  Viola shook her head before Luna could answer.

  “No. Not often at all.” She rested her elbows on her knees, tone thoughtful. “The Imperial Guard usually handles internal security, major crimes, and threats to the Emperor’s authority. Cross-regional investigations are rare. They only step in directly when something is considered a pressing matter. When neutrality is needed. Or when the Senate is too biased to handle something cleanly.”

  Maurien nodded. “So the Guard stepping in means this is serious.”

  “Extremely,” Viola confirmed. “And it’s a sign that every side trusts the investigation. The Imperial Guard isn’t loyal to any noble house or faction, they’re loyal to the empire itself.”

  Ludger narrowed his eyes slightly. “Neutrality is fine… but the truth isn’t always convenient. Sometimes the truth isn’t good for anyone. Not for the Senate, not for the nobles, not even for the average citizen.”

  Viola didn’t deny it. She met his stare evenly.

  “You’re right. Sometimes the truth creates panic. Sometimes it exposes corruption the empire isn’t ready to confront. Sometimes it fuels conflict we can’t afford.”

  She paused, thinking carefully.

  “But more often than not, the truth is what the empire needs. Even if it’s painful. Even if it shakes things.”

  Ludger drummed his fingers lightly against the armrest.

  “So you’re saying the Imperial Guard will follow whatever the truth actually is.”

  “Yes,” Viola replied without hesitation. “They may not like the consequences, but they won’t hide reality to protect House Roderick. That’s exactly why Rufas asked for their involvement.”

  Luna nodded at that, solid confirmation from someone who had watched the Guard closely over the last week.

  Kaela stretched on the sofa with a low groan. “So if the Guard is digging hard… means they’re already finding something the Rodericks don’t want them to.”

  Maurien’s voice was quiet, but sharp. “And that’s why the Rodericks are meeting behind barriers.”

  Ludger crossed his arms, eyes dropping in thought. Truth or not… someone was going to bleed over this. He just hoped it wouldn’t be his people.

  Ludger mulled over everything Luna and Viola had said, his fingers tapping lightly against the arm of his chair. The threads were starting to knot together in uncomfortable ways, and one question kept nagging at him—an itch he couldn’t ignore anymore.

  “…There’s something that doesn’t add up,” he finally said.

  Maurien glanced over. “What is it?”

  “Rufas Dalmoren,” Ludger replied. “Back when the Lionsguard negotiated with Dalan and Linne to establish monthly froststeel and mana core shipments to the Velis League… he was the one mediating from the Empire’s side. Someone from the Imperial Guard.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Why? That kind of negotiation isn’t their usual domain. It never made sense.”

  The room quieted at that.

  Kaela tilted her head. “He was there during the agreement, right? Acting like some diplomatic envoy?”

  Ludger nodded. “Exactly. And the Dalmoren family is tied to the Imperial Guard. Not trade. Not diplomacy. That whole involvement felt… misplaced.”

  Viola leaned back in her chair, expression thoughtful rather than confused. “It wasn’t misplaced.”

  Ludger looked at her.

  She continued, “Rufas wasn’t there because the Imperial Guard was handling the deal. He was there because he specifically was being trained.” Viola folded her arms. “Someone likely wanted him to gain firsthand experience in handling cross-border relations, especially with the Velis League. It’s something the empire has been trying to manage carefully.”

  Ludger blinked once. “…Training?”

  Viola nodded. “Rufas is young, but he comes from a major lineage within the Guard. Families like his are often groomed early for leadership roles. Sending him to mediate trade talks, witness complex agreements, and build connections, that’s part of turning him into a capable figure for the future.”

  Kaela snorted. “So they threw him into the deep end and hoped he’d learn to swim?”

  “More or less,” Viola said. “It’s common for potential commanders to get exposure to political and diplomatic tensions before they’re forced to act with real authority. And since the Lionsguard had already caught the attention of the capital after Lionfang… it was a good testing ground for him.”

  Maurien exhaled with a faint, knowing sound. “Makes sense. He acted composed enough during the negotiations, even if he was clearly watching more than he spoke.”

  Ludger leaned back, processing that. So Rufas Dalmoren wasn’t just some neutral mediator thrown in randomly. He was being groomed, for leadership, for politics, for difficult decisions. And he had chosen to involve the Imperial Guard now, rather than letting the Senate handle this alone. Meaning Rufas wasn’t naive. He wasn’t clueless. He saw something in House Roderick that bothered him too. Ludger’s jaw tightened slightly.

  “…If he’s getting experience,” he murmured, “then this investigation is part of that training too.”

  Viola met his gaze. “Exactly. And he knows if he handles this wrong, it’ll define him. That’s why he’s being so careful.”

  Ludger nodded once, slow and deliberate. Good. Because careful men made fewer mistakes. And right now, the empire couldn’t afford any.