When he glanced past Arslan, Ludger’s eyes narrowed. Standing a little ways back, in plain sight, were the rest of the party. The axe-wielder leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, the huntress perched on a barrel cleaning her arrows, the mage flipping through his tome, and the fighter idly stretching her legs.

They weren’t even trying to hide it. They were keeping guard. Watching. Making absolutely sure their leader didn’t run away again.

Arslan’s apology might have been earnest—but it was very clear to Ludger that it wasn’t voluntary.

Elaine’s hands trembled at her sides as she stared down at him. For a long moment, the only sound was the faint creak of the wood under Arslan’s knees. Then her voice cut through the silence, sharp and cold.

“What do you want, Arslan? After all these years—what do you want from us?”

Arslan winced, but he lifted his head enough to meet her gaze. His eyes carried a flicker of guilt, but also that same stubborn glint that made Ludger’s blood boil. “I… I didn’t say anything before I left because I hate goodbyes. I thought if I spoke, it would only make things harder. And we—we had a job in another city. A dangerous one. I couldn’t… I didn’t want to drag you into it.”

Elaine’s lips curled bitterly. “So you left me behind after saying all those lies..”

Arslan lowered his head again. “I was wrong. I know that now. That’s why I’m here. I’m willing to take responsibility—for both of you. For as long as it takes.”

Elaine let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Responsibility? Don’t make me laugh, Arslan. We don’t need you. Ludger and I have gotten this far without your help, and we’ll keep going without it.”

Her voice softened slightly, pride breaking through her anger as she glanced toward the crack in the door where Ludger peeked out. “You don’t even know what kind of boy he’s become. Ludger can already use magic—real magic. He learned it on his own, without you, without your party, without anyone.”

Arslan blinked, stunned. “Magic? At his age?”

Elaine’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles, her anger still burning but tempered now by fierce maternal pride. “That’s right. Our son doesn’t need a swordsman who runs from goodbyes. He’s already on a path you’ll never understand.”

From his hiding spot, Ludger smirked faintly. For once, he couldn’t help but agree with her.

Elaine’s voice wasn’t exactly quiet, and the walls of their modest home weren’t thick. Outside, the adventurers exchanged startled looks as her words drifted into their ears.

“Magic? At his age?” the huntress muttered, her sharp eyes narrowing.

The axe-wielder let out a low whistle. “Hah. No wonder Maurien claimed him.”

Even the mage raised his brows slightly, snapping his tome shut. “That’s not something you hear every day.”

The lightly armored fighter smirked. “Looks like Arslan finally left behind something worthwhile.”

Inside, Ludger dragged a hand down his face, groaning silently. “Great. Just what I needed. An audience for my very own magic talent show.”

He thought of a dozen sarcastic reasons to not go along with this circus.

“Should I juggle fireballs next? Maybe do a little water fountain trick while they clap and cheer? Last time I showed off magic, the whole tavern went silent and I nearly got us branded as targets. But sure, let’s give the sequel a go.”

Still, as much as he wanted to roll his eyes and refuse, another thought slipped in.

These were seasoned adventurers. A swordsman, an axe-wielder, a hunter, a fighter, even another mage. Paths he didn’t have, skills he couldn’t reach on his own. Getting on their good side might open doors—the kind of doors the system needed to work its magic.

Ludger sighed. “Ugh. I don’t want to be part of this drama. But if it gets me closer to learning a punch, a swing, or even some proper spellcasting… maybe it’s worth the price of admission.”

He adjusted his little hands, feeling the familiar tingle of mana at his fingertips. If they wanted a show, he’d give them one—but on his terms.

Arslan straightened his back, trying to recover some dignity as he looked toward Elaine. “If it’s true, then… let me see it. Let me see my son’s magic.”

Ludger stepped out from behind the doorframe, lips curling into a smirk. “Oh, you want a demonstration? Sure. I’ve got just the spell for you.”

He raised his tiny hand, focused the trickle of mana inside him, and cast Create Water.

A sudden stream burst from his palm—straight into Arslan’s face.

The swordsman sputtered, coughing and flailing as cold water drenched his hair, dripped down his collar, and pooled at his knees. He blinked wildly, completely unprepared, as the flow stopped just as suddenly as it had started.

For one beat of silence, no one moved.

Then the sound of stifled laughter broke out outside the door.

The axe-wielder slapped his knee, roaring. “Pfft—he got you good, Arslan!”

The huntress smirked, shaking her head. “Not even his own kid respects him.”

The fighter leaned against the wall, wiping a tear from her eye. “I like this boy already.”

Even the mage cracked the faintest smile, murmuring, “Poetic, really.”

Arslan, drenched and humiliated, sat frozen, water dripping steadily onto the floor.

Ludger smirked proudly, arms crossed. “There. Proof enough?”

But what froze him more than anything wasn’t his father’s sputtering—it was his mother.

Elaine’s lips curved upward, her green eyes glinting dangerously. She folded her arms, her voice as sharp as a blade. “Hmph. I could get used to seeing that.”

Ludger almost felt sorry for the man. Almost.

Arslan, meanwhile, suddenly regretted ever asking for proof.

Elaine let the laughter die down before speaking, her tone cold and steady.

“That’s enough. Leave, Arslan. I need time to think.”

Arslan’s mouth opened, his hands twitching as if he wanted to argue, to explain more, to dig himself out of the hole he had dug years ago. But under Elaine’s unyielding stare, the words withered on his tongue.

He swallowed hard, then gave a small, almost reluctant nod. “You’re right. You deserve that much.”

Rising slowly, water still dripping from his clothes, he cast one last glance at Ludger and then turned to leave. His boots echoed faintly against the wood floor until the door shut behind him.

Elaine exhaled shakily and brushed past Ludger without a word, retreating into her room and shutting the door firmly behind her.

For a moment, the house was quiet.

But not empty.

The rest of Arslan’s party remained just outside, leaning casually against the walls of the little home, as though this was nothing more than an intermission in the long play of Arslan’s disasters. They had no intention of leaving—not yet.

And Ludger knew it.

Smirking faintly, he straightened his tiny shoulders and stepped toward the door. If his mother needed time to herself, fine. He had other business to handle.

He pushed the door open and looked up at the group of seasoned adventurers, their eyes settling on him with curiosity and amusement.

“About earlier,” Ludger said, his voice sharper than a child’s should have been. “I wasn’t joking. I want someone to teach me some basic fighting skills. Doesn’t matter what kind. I’ll pay for the lesson if I have to.”

The axe-wielder raised an eyebrow. The huntress leaned forward, smirking. The mage tilted his head slightly, studying him with interest.

And Ludger grinned inwardly. Finally, the conversation was back on track.

The axe-wielder let out a booming laugh, crouching slightly to meet Ludger’s eyes. “You? Wanting to learn to fight? Aren’t you a little small for that, boy?”

The huntress smirked, resting her longbow across her knees. “Careful, Harold. He might splash you next if you don’t take him seriously.”

The lightly armored fighter chuckled, flicking her braid over her shoulder. “Honestly, I like his guts. He’s bolder than his old man, that’s for sure.”

Ludger crossed his arms, raising his chin. “I’m serious. And I can pay.”

The mage closed his tome with a soft thump and finally spoke, his tone calm and measured. “No need for that. Our so-called leader already caused you more trouble than you deserved. We’ve all been guilty of letting him run wild for so long. Consider this… a way to balance the scales.”

The others nodded in agreement, their teasing smiles softening into something almost like respect.

The axe-wielder scratched his beard. “We can show you a few things, sure. But don’t expect a full apprenticeship. We won’t be in the city forever.”

Ludger grinned faintly, his eyes sharp. “That’s fine. I don’t need you to train me forever. Just teach me a little bit each, and I’ll figure out the rest.”

The huntress tilted her head, intrigued. “Little guy’s ambitious.”

The fighter smirked. “Ambitious and stubborn. A dangerous combo.”

The mage’s eyes lingered on Ludger, as though he were trying to read more than what was on the surface. Then he nodded once. “So be it. Each of us will give you something small. It should be… educational.”

Ludger clenched his little fists, fighting to keep the triumphant smirk off his face. Finally, the pieces were falling into place.

Before the axe-wielder could even crack his knuckles, the lightly armored fighter stepped forward with a confident smirk. Her dark auburn hair was tied into a short, practical braid that swayed as she moved, and her sharp amber eyes glittered with focus. She wore fitted leather plates strapped to her forearms and shins, her build lean and wiry, every inch of her body radiating precision and speed.

“I’ll take this one,” she said, rolling her shoulders. “He doesn’t need to swing a tree trunk yet—he needs the basics.”

She crouched slightly in front of Ludger, planting her boots firmly in the dirt. “Listen, kid. Fighting isn’t about throwing wild punches. First, you need a stance. A base. Without that, you’re just waiting to fall.”

Her feet spread shoulder-width apart, knees bent just enough to move fast, fists raised close to her face. It wasn’t flashy, just tight and practical—real combat, not showmanship. “Here. Copy this. Strong and balanced. No matter what comes, you don’t go down.”

Ludger shuffled into position, his little legs wobbling, his fists clumsy as he tried to mimic her form. Still, when he finally steadied himself and dug his heels into the ground, the system chimed.

(New Class Master registered: Selene — Pugilist)

(Class Unlocked: Pugilist)

(New Skill acquired: Hard Fists Lv.01)

His eyes widened as the glowing text filled his vision. A new class. Finally.

He clenched his fists, and for the first time, they felt different—denser, tougher, as if the system had hardened them with invisible steel. The skill description appeared faintly:

Hard Fists (Lv.01): Strengthens punches with additional force equal to the level of the skill. Reduces damage taken by the hands when striking equal by the level of the skil. Cost: 03 Stamina per second.

A slow, sharp grin spread across Ludger’s face.

Selene raised an eyebrow at him, amber eyes narrowing in amusement. “What’s with that grin? You’ve barely learned to stand and you’re already acting like you’re ready for the arena.”

Ludger didn’t answer. Inside, he was already celebrating. The Pugilist class was his. His stamina would finally have a purpose. Another path had opened—and it was only the beginning.

Selene smirked, raising her palms in front of her chest. “Alright then, prodigy. Let’s see what those little fists can actually do. Hit me—right here.”

Ludger tilted his head but obeyed, clenching his tiny fists. The skill faint glow pulsed around his knuckles as he stepped forward and threw a straight punch into her palm.

Smack!

Selene’s amber eyes narrowed slightly, her smirk faltering. “Huh. Not bad for a toddler.”

Ludger grinned and didn’t stop. He drove his other fist forward, then another, a steady rhythm of punches landing against her hands. Each strike carried a faint weight behind it that didn’t belong to a child his size, the Hard Fists skill amplifying every blow. At the same time, his parameters also helped.

By the fifth punch, Selene’s brows furrowed. By the seventh, she had to shift her stance to brace herself. Her amber eyes flicked up at him, sharp with curiosity now instead of amusement.

“…Tch.” She lowered her hands, flexing her fingers where a dull ache was starting to build. “You’ve got weight behind those hits, kid. More than you should.”

Behind her, the axe-wielder chuckled. “Don’t tell me the little squirt actually made you feel it?”

Selene shot him a glare before looking back at Ludger. “He’s not just copying stances. His fists are different. There’s power in them.”

Ludger smirked, shaking out his hands like he’d been doing this forever. “Guess I’ve got good bones.”

Selene didn’t laugh. Instead, she leaned down, her amber eyes narrowing with something like respect. “No… you’ve got something else. Something worth sharpening.”

And for the first time, Ludger felt it wasn’t just a class notification that had given him validation—Selene herself had acknowledged his fists.

The rest of the party exchanged looks as Selene rubbed her palms, flexing her fingers.

The mage adjusted his glasses, his expression unusually focused. “A child his age shouldn’t be able to generate that kind of force. Not without… help.”

The huntress leaned back on her stool, her sharp green eyes glinting. “Help, or something broken in his bones. Either way, it’s not normal.”

The axe-wielder let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Arslan’s brat or not, this kid’s got potential.”

Selene studied Ludger for a long moment, her amber eyes sharp. Then she clicked her tongue. “Listen, kid. You’ve got strong fists, sure, but your body’s not ready for real training yet. If you want to grow into those hands of yours, the best thing you can do right now is run. Run every day. Build your body until it stops looking like a sack of sticks.”

Ludger frowned, puffing out his cheeks in annoyance. “Run? That’s boring. I want to see what you can do. Show me your skills.”

For a second, Selene’s eyes narrowed. She wasn’t the type to show off for anyone—much less a four -year-old. But Ludger’s expression was so sharp, so stubbornly demanding, that she finally let out a short sigh.

“Fine. But don’t blink.”

She raised her right fist, her stance shifting ever so slightly. Then, with a twist of her hips and a snap of her arm, she punched forward.

BOOM!

The air cracked, a small shockwave rippling outward from her fist. Dust stirred on the ground, rattling against the walls of the little house, and Ludger’s hair whipped back from the pressure.

His eyes widened, his jaw dropping.

Selene lowered her fist, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “That’s the difference between swinging fists and mastering them. Shockwaves, bone-breakers, techniques you can’t even imagine yet. You want that? Then listen when I tell you to run.”

Ludger’s fists trembled with excitement as he clenched them tight. For once, he didn’t even have a sarcastic remark—just wide-eyed hunger for more.

Of course, Ludger wasn’t going to just stand there and nod like a good little disciple. The moment Selene lowered her fist, he planted his feet, clenched his tiny hands, and threw a punch of his own.

Whiff.

The only thing his strike moved was the air directly in front of him—and even that felt more like a gentle breeze than a shockwave.

The party snickered behind him. The axe-wielder chuckled. “Look at him go. He’s already trying to copy you, Selene.”

The huntress smirked. “Adorable, really.”

Even the mage’s lips twitched, though he quickly coughed to hide it.

Selene sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose after she used her skill a few more times. “I told you, runt—you’re not ready for—”

Then she froze.

A faint shimmer pulsed over Ludger’s fists flashing before his eyes.

(Skill: Hard Fists received 10xp.)

(Hard Fists Lv.01 → Lv.02)

Ludger blinked, then grinned wide. His little body might not have shaken the air, but he felt it—the weight in his fists, just slightly denser than before.

“Again!” he shouted, punching forward once more. This time, the sound was sharper, a faint pop in the air that hadn’t been there before.

Selene’s amber eyes narrowed instantly. She lowered her arms, staring at him in disbelief. “…What?”

She’d seen plenty of apprentices in her time. She’d trained stubborn boys and cocky men alike. No one, not a single one, had ever leveled a combat technique just by watching her throw a punch. And yet, this kid—this four-year-old—had not only learned it but improved in seconds.

Her frown deepened, confusion creasing her brow. “That’s not possible.”

But Ludger only smirked, shaking his fists like they were already weapons. “Looks possible to me.”