The next morning dawned. Ludger was already up, pack slung over his shoulder, weights strapped to his arms and legs. He stepped into the kitchen where his parents were finishing breakfast.

“I’m heading out,” he said simply. “I’ll stop by Aronia’s to sort the potions first.”

Elaine gave a curt nod, arms folded. Arslan grunted his acknowledgment. Ludger offered them both a small wave. “See you soon,” he said, then turned and headed down the road, his figure shrinking quickly into the morning light.

Elaine and Arslan stood in the doorway, watching him disappear. The silence stretched until Arslan finally asked, “You’re just… fine with him leaving like that?”

Elaine didn’t take her eyes off the road. “Fine? No.” She breathed out slowly. “But I noticed the remains of your little duel half a year ago. He tried to erase the traces with his earth magic, but he didn’t hide everything.”

Arslan blinked. “You—”

“And,” she went on calmly, “We have regulars at the tavern who talk. I hear things.” Her voice stayed level, but the weight behind it made the back of Arslan’s neck prickle. “If he has gotten strong enough to fight with you, he can protect himself… at the same time, I feel like if I force him to stay at home for too long, one day he will leave and he won’t return.”

A bead of sweat rolled down his temple. It seemed his wife’s possessive streak — and her ability to know exactly what went on under her roof — wasn’t going to fade anytime soon.

He gave a weak chuckle and scratched the back of his head. “Right,” he muttered. “Of course you did.”

Elaine finally turned to him, eyes sharp even in the soft morning light. “Don’t think I’ll ever stop watching over him,” she said, then went back inside.

Arslan stood in the doorway a moment longer, cold sweat still on his back, before following her in.

Ludger reached Aronia’s shop just as she was finishing her morning tea, the smell of dried herbs drifting out into the street. He stepped inside, set his pack down, and got straight to the point.

“I’ve got work at the border,” he said. “Reinforcing the town and the walls. I’ll need your potions like we planned. You can keep storing them; I already talked with my father. We’ll use some of the tavern’s profits to pay you for the whole batch.”

Aronia raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the counter with her arms crossed. “You’re actually going through with that?”

Ludger nodded. “It’s the best way.”

The half-dryad tilted her head, green hair falling across her shoulder. “I don’t get you,” she said flatly. “The old bull isn’t even related to you. He’s your half-sister’s grandfather. Why are you accepting all this hassle to help them?” Her lips curved into a faint, teasing smile. “You’re nine, Ludger. You should be napping, not playing stone mason for nobles.”

She shook her head, genuinely baffled. “I like to relax as much as possible, so I can’t even begin to understand this. All this work, for people who aren’t even your blood?”

Ludger’s mouth quirked but he didn’t answer right away, just reached out and ran a finger along one of the potion vials lined up on the counter. Outside, the street was quiet, but inside the shop the air felt like the pause before a long explanation.

Ludger finally looked up from the rows of vials, meeting Aronia’s puzzled gaze head-on. “I’ll chill,” he said evenly, “when I’m certain that me, my family, and my friends will be fine no matter what. Until then, I won't get that luxury.”

He tapped a knuckle lightly against the counter, the faint clink of glass between them. “Right now I have to work. I have to keep improving myself, stacking techniques and coin and allies until I can actually accomplish the things I want. That’s the only way I get to relax later without watching my back.”

Aronia blinked, then gave a soft snort, her usual teasing fading a little. “Heavy words for a kid,” she murmured, but there was a flicker of respect in her eyes as she looked at him.

Ludger straightened his pack. “That’s the deal,” he said simply. “I work now so I can chill later.”

Ludger left Aronia’s shop with a nod, strapped his pack tight, and broke into a run. The road to the border stretched out like a gray ribbon under the morning sun, but even with the weights strapped to his arms and legs his pace never faltered. Each stride kicked up little puffs of dust as his mind churned faster than his feet.

I can’t afford to be lazy, he thought. If I’m going to do this, I need to find every edge I can.

He started running through possibilities. Rain would be a blessing. Wet soil moves easier, packs tighter. I could shape it faster and the walls would settle stronger once it dries.

His brow furrowed as he sprinted. If I time the big lifts at dawn, the ground’s colder and firmer; less mana to compress it. Maybe I can dig the tunnels during cooler hours, use the sun’s heat at noon to dry the supports.

He pictured slabs of stone rising like puzzle pieces. I could anchor pillars first, then fill between them, instead of shaping whole walls at once. Layer it, like bricks. Less mana per stroke, more staying power.

A grin flickered at the edge of his mouth as he leapt over a stone in the road. And if I use Stone Grip while shaping, I can push denser rock out of the soil, leaving the loose dirt behind for backfill. That alone cuts the load in half.

The wind whipped at his hair but he kept running, ideas stacking up with each stride. Every bit of efficiency means more wall, more tunnel, less time wasted on recovery.

After half a day, the faint outline of the border town rose on the horizon, Ludger’s muscles burned but his head was full of plans. If he played it right, he wouldn’t just build what Torvares needed—he’d build it faster than anyone expected.

As Ludger crested a small hill and the border town came into full view, his thoughts drifted inward again. I’ve been spending my free points trying to smooth out my weak spots, he mused. Boosting endurance so my stamina doesn’t run dry, making sure I can keep up in close combat. He glanced at his hands as he ran, flexing his fingers inside the weighted guards. But for this job… maybe that’s the wrong call.

He pictured the walls, the tunnels, the sheer volume of earth waiting to be shaped. It would be smarter to dump everything into my magic until this is done. More mana, faster shaping, better control. Endurance won’t mean much if I’m stuck crawling after every wall I raise.

His pace slowed a fraction as he recalculated. I planned to go back home once a week, stay for two days at a time to see Mom and keep the tavern running. He exhaled through his nose. But that might not be possible. Once the barbarians notice what I’m doing, slipping back and forth won’t be simple anymore. They’ll be watching. And if they start hitting the town while I’m gone…

He gritted his teeth and pushed his speed again, the weights clinking softly with each stride. I’ll just have to adapt. Build fast, build strong, and be ready for when they finally figure it out.

The wind tugged at his hair as he ran, but his eyes stayed fixed on the town ahead — and the work waiting for him.

By the time Ludger reached the outskirts of the border town, his shirt was plastered to his back and the weights on his limbs felt like lead. He slowed to a jog, scanning the settlement as he caught his breath.

Not much had changed since his last visit. A few buildings stood upright now instead of leaning like drunks, but they were still a long way from comfortable. The patched-up roofs sagged under their own weight. The streets were dusty, uneven, dotted with half-finished repairs.

His eyes moved to the walls and his jaw tightened. The holes had been closed, yes — but not reinforced. Piles of loose stone and hastily tamped earth made the fortifications look more like a child’s sandcastle than a barrier against barbarians. A good rain could melt whole sections back into mud.

He adjusted the straps on his pack and headed toward the gate, but before he could step inside, a pair of guards moved to block his path. They weren’t hostile, but their hands hovered near their spears.

“Hold it there,” one of them said. “What’s your business in the town?”

Ludger straightened and met their eyes calmly. “I’m here on behalf of Lord Torvares,” he said. “I’ve come to reinforce the walls and start repairs with my earth magic. You can check with your captain if you need to.”

The guards exchanged a look, one of them raising an eyebrow. The other’s grip on his spear eased just a little.

“You’re the mage he sent?” the first one asked, skepticism edging his tone.

“That’s me,” Ludger replied simply, his expression steady. “I’m here to work.”

The guards hesitated, then nodded and stepped aside, still eyeing him with a mix of curiosity and doubt as he walked past them into the battered town.

As Ludger passed through the gate, the atmosphere of the town settled over him. It didn’t take long to notice that the faces were different. Most of the guards and soldiers on duty weren’t the same ones from last year; new appearance, new accents, new eyes watching him from under their helmets.

They didn’t recognize him. Not as the boy who had helped take the town, not as the healer from Koa, not as anything but a kid walking in with a pack and a weapon at his limbs. More than one frown followed him as he moved down the main street.

He caught snatches of muttered words behind him. “That’s the mage?” “Looks like a kid…” “Are they serious?”

Ludger didn’t let it show on his face. He adjusted his armguards and kept walking, back straight, expression flat. Fine, he thought. They don’t have to know me now. They’ll know me once the walls are standing.

Still, he felt the stares prickling at the back of his neck. The only kid in a town full of hardened soldiers and half-finished buildings — no wonder they were skeptical. But skepticism didn’t bother him. He was here to work, and the results would speak louder than his age ever could.

Ludger kept walking, ignoring the stares, eyes sweeping the street for someone who looked like they were actually in charge. The rank-and-file guards clearly knew of him—they hadn’t stopped him after his explanation—but the speed of it bothered him. I only spoke with Torvares yesterday. News shouldn’t have reached this garrison so fast. Unless the old bull truly had a lot more faith in me.

He followed the main road deeper into the town, boots crunching on loose gravel, until he reached the central square. There, under the shade of a half-repaired canopy, a knot of soldiers stood around a rough-hewn table. A map was spread out across it, stones holding the corners down against the breeze. Their voices were low, tense, fingers tapping at drawn lines and markers.

As Ludger stepped closer, the chatter among the guards on the edges shifted. A few whispered to each other, glancing from the boy to the meeting. The ripple spread quickly—one soldier’s elbow nudging another’s, a muttered word passing along the group until several of them turned their eyes toward him at once.

Ludger felt the weight of their stares but didn’t slow his pace. He squared his shoulders, armguards glinting in the pale light, and walked straight toward the table where the map lay. If they’re already talking about me, he thought, I might as well show them I’m not here to hide.

The group around the map parted just enough for him to step closer, their expressions a mix of curiosity and doubt as the only kid in the town approached their command post.

Ludger stopped a pace from the table, hands resting lightly on the straps of his pack. “Name’s Ludger,” he said, voice even but carrying. “I’m here on Lord Torvares’ orders to reinforce the town with earth magic. Who’s his representative here?”

The soldiers exchanged glances, then parted slightly as a man stepped forward. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his armor a polished silver trimmed with red — not parade-plate but heavy field gear with the dents polished smooth. His face was weathered, dark hair streaked with gray at the temples.

He looked familiar in a way Ludger couldn’t place — a flash of mud, blood, and the scent of crushed herbs from a year ago flickered at the edge of his memory. I must’ve healed him back during the fighting, Ludger thought, but the name wouldn’t come.

The man gave a short nod, his eyes sharp but not unfriendly. “Captain Darnell,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of command. “I’m Lord Torvares’ representative here. I handle the garrison and the reconstruction until further orders.”

His gaze flicked over Ludger, lingering on the weights strapped to his limbs. “You’re the mage he sent?”

“That’s right,” Ludger replied simply, meeting his eyes.

Darnell’s mouth twitched in the faintest hint of a smile. “Good. We’ve been waiting for you.”

Captain Darnell folded his arms over his chest, the silver and red of his armor catching the light. “Lord Torvares sent word last night,” he said. “Direct orders. All earth mages currently under contract are to be dismissed. They left this morning. From this point forward, you’re in charge of the work.”

Ludger blinked once, the words landing heavier than he expected. “All of them?”

Darnell nodded. “Every last one. You call the shots. We’ll provide support and guards as needed, but the shaping, the planning—that’s my job. Lord Torvares wants the walls and the tunnel done as soon as possible as planned.”

A ripple of murmurs passed through the nearby soldiers. Ludger forced a small smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Great, he thought. No pressure at all.

He adjusted the weight on his armguards, glancing at the patchwork walls around them. If I screw this up, it’s not just my name on the line. It’s Torvares, Viola, my family… everything.

But aloud he only said, “Understood. Show me where you want me to start.”

Darnell’s faint smile widened just a fraction. “This way,” he said, gesturing toward the northern wall. “Let’s see what you can do.”

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