The next morning, the garden was already alive with heat and tension.
Ludger stood at the center of the training space with arms crossed, watching his recruits circle around him in a loose formation. Dew clung to the grass, but the air shimmered faintly, evidence of mana already circulating, sparking, heating.
They’d all been cooped up for too long. And Ludger had decided that if they couldn’t fight enemies, they could at least fight their own limitations.
“All right,” Ludger said, voice firm. “Today we work on Blazing Enchantment. Prepare to strain for a bit.”
Rhea wiped sweat from her brow even though the training hadn’t begun. “Is it supposed to feel like my arm is trying to catch fire?”
“It literally is,” Ludger answered. “So yes.”
Derrin adjusted his bracers, taking a steadying breath. Mira tied her hair back and focused her mana into her fingertips, trying to channel it without scorching herself. They were nervous, but eager.
Blazing Enchantment wasn’t a beginner technique, it needed tight mana control, strong physical conditioning, and enough stubbornness to ignore the heat licking at your skin. Ludger demonstrated once, flames blooming briefly along his forearm in a concentrated, non-destructive burst.
“Keep it tight,” he said. “If it spreads too far, you’ll burn your own arm off. Don’t do that.”
Rhea immediately winced. “Vice Guildmaster… could you maybe demonstrate the part where you don’t look like the flames want to eat you alive?”
“No,” Ludger replied flatly. “Figure it out.”
Meanwhile, at the far side of the garden, Taron and Callen were seated cross-legged beside the bull statue Ludger had sculpted, the residual aura giving them a slight boost. Unlike the others, they weren’t working on Blazing Enchantment.
They were practicing something else. Callen inhaled deeply, letting tiny droplets of water condense around his hands, forming a fine mist. The air grew cooler around him as he tried to align his mana with the rhythm of water, steady, flowing, shaping.
Taron sat beside him, palms hovering in front of him as he slowly cycled mana through his arms, trying to get it to settle into a calm, fluid pulse instead of the rigid patterns used for runes.
Ludger glanced over. “Don’t force it. Overdrive with water element isn’t about raw power. It’s recovery and flow. Think of it like making your mana circulate cleaner.”
Callen nodded. “It feels like… washing my circuits out from the inside.”
“That’s the idea,” Ludger said.
Taron exhaled. “I’m used to runes. They’re structured. Clean. Precise. This feels…” He waved his hand, droplets scattering. “... chaotic.”
“That’s water for you,” Ludger answered. “Adaptable. You press too hard, it slips away. You loosen too much, it falls apart.”
Callen smiled faintly. “So basically you’re telling him to stop being a control freak.”
Taron glared. “I’m not a control freak.”
“Prove it,” Callen said.
“Fine,” Taron snapped, eyes closing as he tried again.
Ludger shook his head, but the corner of his mouth twitched.
Back with the Blazing Enchantment group, Rhea clenched her fists and grit her teeth, small flickers of flame coiling around her knuckles. Mira managed to get her palms glowing with heat but stopped right before burning her gloves. Derrin ground through the exercise with stubborn determination, jaw set tight.
They were all improving. Slowly. Painfully. But improving. Ludger stepped back, watching them with silent focus.Training kept their minds occupied. It kept them sharp. And it kept him from thinking too much about the political powder keg waiting to explode any day now. But for the moment? The garden was filled with nothing but mana, sweat, and the steady rhythm of growth.
Ludger corrected Rhea’s stance with a tap to her elbow, then redirected Derrin’s mana flow before he accidentally set his sleeve on fire. The garden buzzed with heat, sweat, and the faint crackle of enchantments forming and sputtering out. It kept everyone busy. Kept their minds sharp. Keep the anxiety from festering.
Between instructions, Ludger opened his status window with a flick of thought.
Nothing impressive. Nothing dramatic.
Name: Ludger
Level: 86 (2,450 / 8,600)
Current Job: Cook (Lv 35 – 620 / 3,500)
Current Class: Geomancer (Lv 109 – 1,300 / 10,900)
Health: 2,930 / 2,930
Mana: 13,730 / 13,730
Stamina: 4,150 / 4,150
Strength: 453
Dexterity: 477
Intelligence: 1146
Vitality: 293
Wisdom: 1495
Endurance: 415
Luck: 195
Classes & Skills
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Teacher — Lv 35 (+3 INT, +3 DEX / level)
Skills:
[Dissection of Knowledge Lv.26]
[Student Insight Lv.23]
[Guiding Words Lv.23]
[Teacher Focus Lv 16]
[Student Understanding Lv 13]
[Practical Demonstration Lv 11]
[Teacher’s Support Lv 11]
[Shared Knowledge Lv 11] — Allows the user to partially transfer personal comprehension of a technique to a trainee. While it doesn’t give skills directly, it can push a student past bottlenecks and dramatically accelerate mastery.
Magic Warrior — Lv 11 (+6 STR, +6 INT, +4 DEX)
Skills:
Blazing Enchantment Lv. 11
Freezing Enchantment Lv. 06
Windy Enchantment Lv. 06 — Channels wind-aspected mana through limbs or weapons, boosting movement speed, reaction time, and strike velocity. Reduces air resistance and enables rapid repositioning.
Sculptor — Lv 8 (+5 DEX, +5 LUK)
Skills:
Sculptor’s Touch (Lv.11)
Sculptor’s Skill (Lv.7) — Determines the overall quality and “effect potential” of a finished sculpture. High-quality works gain unique passive effects such as morale boosts, stat buffs, or mental resistance auras, depending on the user’s intent and mana precision during creation.
He squinted at it, mildly annoyed.
Another insane fight. Another near-death beating. Another moment where I almost got atomized… and this is all I get?
He sighed through his nose. He was basically the opposite of a Saiyan, the closer he was to dying, the less the system seemed to care. Apparently he needed to practice his skills more, stay well-fed, well-rested, and emotionally stable to make real progress.
Ridiculous. Embarrassing. Almost funny. He closed the window before it irritated him further. But then, a shift in the air. A presence brushing against the edges of his perception, steady, composed, carrying a pressure that felt like an armored fist hidden behind a smile. Someone strong. Someone familiar. Ludger tensed for half a heartbeat before the voice reached him from the estate’s front gate.
“Looks like you’re doing something interesting…”
Gaius.
The old mage tone carried a faint amusement, the kind that said he’d already seen far more than he should have. Ludger turned his head, eyebrows tightening. He hadn’t sensed the man coming until the very last moment. That alone made his recruits freeze mid-training.
Viola should’ve known. She knew him. She knew he didn’t want political entanglements.
She knew the Imperial Guard was already sniffing around. So why…
“Did Viola call for him?” he muttered under his breath.
He didn’t want to deal with senatorial games. He didn’t want to deal with imperial politics. He didn’t want to deal with anyone important enough to make this situation worse. But Gaius wasn’t someone who showed up by accident. And definitely not someone who walked into Torvares’ estate without a reason.
Ludger exhaled slowly, shoulders loosening even as irritation simmered under the surface. Things were about to get complicated again.
Ludger dusted off his hands and walked toward the main entrance as the estate guards pulled the heavy gate open. Gaius stepped through with the same calm, grounded presence he always carried, like an unmovable boulder shaped into a man. His beard was trimmed shorter, his posture a little straighter than the last time Ludger saw him. He looked… healthier. But the sharp glint in his eyes hadn’t faded at all.
The old geomancer studied him for half a second and raised an eyebrow.
“Why the frown, boy? You look like someone stole your lunch.”
Ludger crossed his arms. “I could ask you the same. You hate political messes. So why are you here?”
Gaius barked out a laugh, deep and warm. “Politics? Hah! You think I came for that headache?” He waved a dismissive hand. “I heard some interesting rumors floating around the capital, explosions, runic debris raining over Coria, a certain masked idiot nearly getting himself killed, and a few Lionsguard members thrown into prison. Naturally, I came to check on my students.”
Ludger’s jaw tightened, not in anger, but in the faint, awkward way someone reacts when an elder calls them "his student." Gaius didn’t notice, or more likely, he pretended not to.
There was something different about him, though. A calmness. A weight lifted. Maybe time had softened some of the pain he carried. Maybe he’d found something resembling peace. Or maybe, hidden beneath that calm, he saw in this chaos a thread that connected to what happened to his wife and daughter.
The thought flickered through Ludger’s mind, but he didn’t voice it. Gaius didn’t need to be dragged into old wounds. Not by him.
Ludger stepped aside. “Come in. Viola will probably want to talk to you.”
Gaius chuckled as he walked past. “Viola always wants to talk when trouble’s brewing. Reminds me of someone else I know.”
Ludger didn’t argue. He just followed silently, knowing with a sinking feeling that Gaius being here meant things were about to get even more complicated.
The living room filled faster than Ludger expected.
Word traveled quickly through the estate, Gaius had arrived.
Within minutes, the recruits abandoned their training and trickled in, still sweating, still breathing hard, but wide-eyed with excitement. They lined up near the wall, whispering among themselves as the old geomancer took a seat like he owned the place.
They’d worked with Maurien before. They knew what a real master looked like. And now another one had walked straight into the room.
Their awe was obvious. Almost comical.
Kaela noticed it instantly and pointed dramatically at the recruits.
“Okay, seriously, why don’t people get this excited when I’m around?”
Ludger didn’t even look at her. “They do.”
She brightened. “Really?”
“Yes,” he continued dryly, “they realize things are about to get troublesome in more ways than one.”
Kaela froze, then snapped her head toward him.
“That’s slander!”
“No,” Ludger said, “that’s experience.”
Kaela huffed. “I’ve been told things get far more fun when I’m around!”
Maurien, without lifting his eyes from his cup of tea, said quietly, “That… is the problem.”
Kaela pointed accusingly at him next. “Traitor!”
Before they could escalate into their usual chaotic back-and-forth, Viola raised her hand, the room quieting almost instantly. She leaned forward on the sofa, her expression sharp and businesslike.
“All right,” she said, “before Kaela tries to recruit the recruits into her imaginary fan club, let’s get to the point.”
She turned her gaze toward Gaius.
“I didn’t call for you,” Viola said plainly. “So I’m assuming you came on your own. Which means you have your own reasons.”
Gaius grinned, the corner of his mouth lifting with a confidence built from decades of experience, and far too much mischief for a man his age.
“Of course I have my reasons,” he said. “You think I’d show up just because I was invited? Where’s the fun in that?”
The recruits stared, fascinated. Maurien smiled. Kaela crossed her arms but looked secretly impressed. Ludger felt the beginnings of a headache forming.
Viola narrowed her eyes, knowing full well that with Gaius sitting in the room, the situation around the Roderick house, and the entire capital, had just gained another unpredictable piece on the board. And Gaius seemed perfectly content to watch where it fell.
