The thought wasn’t reckless — it was calculated. The labyrinth wasn’t just a threat; it was an opportunity. A living training ground with infinite data.

He flexed his right hand absently. Those frost paladins hit hard, but they’re predictable. If I can read their timing, measure their reaction to mana bursts, I can use that to evolve my own flow.

Every fight down there had shown him something — how his Overdrive synced with Weapon Enhancement, how Rage Flow strained his body, how to maintain balance between raw force and mana control. Against weak enemies, those things plateaued fast. But the labyrinth… it forced adaptation.

And Ludger craved that edge.

The others don’t need to know, he thought, eyes flicking briefly toward where Darnell and Yvar were still talking by the campfires. I can sneak in after dark, stay near the first zone, run tests on my earth manipulation and Rage Flow combinations.

He smirked faintly to himself. Besides, there’s no better way to learn the labyrinth’s language than to bleed in it a little.

The snow crunched under his boots as he reached the edge of the newly revived grasslands, the faint green shimmering against the moonlight. He stopped there for a moment, watching his breath drift away into the air.

Experience. Reaction. Mana flow. Everything counts.

He clenched his fists and nodded to himself. “Every night it is.”

It wasn’t arrogance — it was the quiet, cold certainty of someone who understood that strength didn’t come from talent or luck. It came from repetition, from refinement, from willingly stepping into danger again and again until the body and mind became sharper than fear.

The labyrinth had tested him once. Now, he’d return the favor — one night at a time.

— —

Far from the biting winds of the north, the Torvares estate sat bathed in the warm amber light of evening. The great dining hall was quiet, the usual chatter of servants muted by the soft clinking of silverware and the low hum of the fire.

Viola sat across from her grandfather, idly swirling her fork through a plate that had long gone cold. She glanced up for what must’ve been the fifth time, frowning slightly. Lord Torvares was quiet — too quiet.

He wasn’t counting the golden diamond coins stacked beside his goblet, wasn’t boasting about the Froststeel shipments that had finally started selling at the capital’s markets. Just sitting there, lost in thought, his expression heavier than usual.

“Grandfather,” she said finally, setting her fork down. “You look troubled. Don’t tell me all that coin gave you a headache.”

That earned a small, tired smile. “No, my dear. If only it were that simple.”

He reached into his coat and drew out a folded parchment, the Imperial seal. “This arrived today.”

Viola tilted her head. “From the Empire?”

He nodded once, handing it to Luna, who had been standing quietly by the table. The maid curtsied slightly before bringing it over to Viola, curiosity flickering in her eyes.

Viola took the letter, moving the seal with a sharp motion. As her gaze skimmed the contents, her brow furrowed — then her face darkened, red creeping up her cheeks until her ears burned.

“You’ve got to be kidding

me,” she hissed.

Luna leaned in carefully, her own eyes scanning the elegant handwriting. The first line alone made her blink. “...‘By decree of the Imperial Academy Council, Lady Viola Torvares is formally invited to rejoin the Imperial School as an honored student…’”

She trailed off as she glanced up at Viola, whose expression was halfway between disbelief and outrage.

“Years,” Viola said through gritted teeth. “Years after they expelled me for a single fight. Now they decide to welcome me back?”

Luna tried to sound soothing. “It seems they changed their mind—”

Viola cut her off with a scoff. “No, they didn’t ‘change their mind.’ Someone probably leaned on them. Or they should be plotting something…”

Lord Torvares chuckled softly under his breath, though his eyes still looked distant. “There’s more.”

Viola froze, then looked back at the letter. Her eyes scanned the bottom paragraph — and then her jaw tightened even more.

“…‘We are also extending a personal invitation to Ludger Torvares, in recognition of his service to the Empire’s northern reconstruction efforts.’”

The sound of the parchment crumpling between her fingers broke the silence.

Luna blinked, half amused, half nervous. “That’s… quite the coincidence.”

“Coincidence?” Viola snapped. “They think they can drag him into that viper pit too? He’s got better things to do than waste time in the capital pretending to bow to their politics.”

Torvares leaned back, letting out a slow sigh. “It seems the Empire has finally realized what kind of power the north is fostering. They’re trying to reel it back into their reach — through the next generation. While he isn’t a Torvares, since he is your half brother, they think that some adjustments can be made to invite a talented kid to their ranks.”

Viola stood, eyes blazing, the letter crushed in her hand. “Over my dead body.”

Luna placed a careful hand on her shoulder, voice soft but teasing. “You said the same thing the last time they expelled you, remember?”

Viola gave her a sidelong glare, but it melted into a frustrated groan. “And I meant it then, too.”

Torvares chuckled again, a faint glint of pride behind his tired eyes. “Seems the fire hasn’t dimmed. Good. You’ll need it — both of you will.”

Viola paused, her anger cooling into a wary frown. “Both?”

He nodded. “Because if the Empire’s reaching this far north again… then this invitation is just the beginning.”

The firelight flickered across his face as he looked toward the window — where snow had begun to fall lightly against the glass, like a distant echo of the cold frontier his Ludger now guarded.

Lord Torvares leaned back in his chair, the flicker of the fire reflecting faintly off the polished crest on his ring. The letter still sat between them, its Imperial seal cracked open, its words heavy even after being read twice.

Viola was pacing now, boots clicking sharply against the marble floor. “Let me guess,” she said, voice edged with irritation. “They think you can just order Ludger to go, right?”

Torvares’ weak smile returned — the kind that held no real amusement. “That’s exactly what they think.”

He reached for his wine, taking a slow sip before continuing. “Word spread fast about the borderlands. The fields he restored, the town he rebuilt, the alliance he’s forged. And since those lands are now under our banner… they should have spies reporting things to the capital or someone from a neighboring territory.”

He gestured lazily with the goblet toward the family crest embroidered on the wall.

“…the people in the capital assume it means I can pull his strings.”

Viola stopped pacing, eyes narrowing. “Idiots.”

“They couldn’t be more wrong,” Torvares said, tone calm but laced with quiet pride. “Ludger doesn’t answer to anyone. Not even me. The Empire can send a hundred letters and it won’t make him kneel.”

Viola crossed her arms, the corner of her mouth twitching into a smirk. “He’d probably burn the letter before reading the second line.”

Luna chuckled softly from the side. “That sounds about right for him.”

The laughter faded quickly, though, replaced by a more cautious look on Viola’s face. “Then… what about Father and Elaine? Shouldn’t they get one too? The Empire knows they’re his parents.”

Torvares shook his head, the motion slow and deliberate. “No. Not yet.”

He set the goblet down and tapped the edge of the letter with a finger. “They’re commoners, remember? The Empire won’t approach them directly unless they have to. They’ll start with us — with the nobility. Try to wrap their hands around Ludger’s neck first. If that fails…”

His gaze hardened slightly. “…then they’ll turn to persuasion. They’ll use family instead of politics.”

Viola’s expression darkened. “Meaning they’ll go after Arslan and Elaine next.”

Torvares nodded once. “If this invitation is ignored, they’ll send another — more ‘personal’ one. One meant to tug on the right strings. They’ll pretend it’s an honor, maybe even throw in promises of comfort, protection, status.”

He looked into the fire for a long moment before adding, “That’s how the Empire plays its games. Slow. Patient. And always pretending it’s kindness.”

Viola clenched her fists. “Disgusting.”

Torvares let out a slow sigh. “That’s politics, my dear. But it seems they’ve underestimated Ludger… again.”

Luna tilted her head, smiling faintly. “I’d pay to see their faces when he ignores them.”

Torvares’ lips curved into a knowing smirk. “Oh, he’ll ignore them, alright. The boy’s too busy building his own world to care about theirs.”

The fire crackled softly, casting long shadows over the dining room as the three of them sat in silence for a moment.

Outside, the evening wind stirred through the estate’s gardens — and though the Torvares lands had grown larger, stretching now all the way to the revived northern town, it was clear that the reach of the Empire had just started to stretch in their direction again.

And Viola, fists still clenched at her sides, swore to herself that if they tried to use her family to control Ludger… she’d burn that bridge before they ever set foot on it.

Viola finally stopped pacing, planting her hands on the table. The firelight threw sharp gold across her face, her eyes hard with focus now instead of anger.

“Alright,” she said, voice steady. “So what do we do about this?”

Lord Torvares didn’t answer immediately.

“Nothing,” he said at last.

Viola blinked. “Nothing?”

Torvares nodded, tone calm and measured. “Ludger will be fine as long as he has a proper excuse — and right now, he has the best one possible. He’s rebuilding an entire frontier. Managing a guild. Expanding trade routes. No one in the capital will question that. Not openly, at least.”

He swirled the wine in his goblet absently, eyes thoughtful. “They won’t make any rash moves. They want him on their side, not against them. The Empire sees a talented, young kid with noble ties leading reconstruction efforts on the northern border — they see potential. Something to cultivate, not crush.”

Luna tilted her head, voice careful. “So they’ll… wait?”

Torvares smiled faintly. “Exactly. They’ll underestimate him because of his age. They think they can lure him instead of confronting him.”

Viola crossed her arms, her jaw tightening. “Lure him how?”

Torvares’ gaze flicked briefly toward the crumpled letter. “Education. Politics. Fame. They’ll try to offer him legitimacy — a place among the Empire’s elite. They assume any young man would crave recognition from the capital. He is almost ten as well, soon enough, he will show interest in other things…”

Luna muttered, “They clearly haven’t met Ludger.”

Torvares chuckled softly. “No, they haven’t. And that’s our advantage. They’ll keep their distance for now. They won’t send an army north — they’re not that foolish. Not when they don’t know what we do.”

He set the goblet down, his expression sharpening. “The Empire doesn’t yet realize that the Lionsguard and the Northerners are working together — not just a trade pact, but an actual alliance. If they knew, they’d tread even more carefully. The thought of Imperial soldiers marching into a unified north would terrify them.”

Viola frowned, rubbing at her temple. “So… as long as Ludger stays where he is, we’re safe.”

Torvares hesitated, then sighed. “For now, yes. But that changes in a few months.”

Her gaze snapped up. “Why?”

He folded his hands, voice lowering. “Because he’ll return home — for the birth of his sibling. When that happens, he’ll be within the Empire’s reach again. Close enough for their messengers, their envoys, and their charmers to surround him.”

Viola’s expression darkened again. “So that’s when they’ll strike.”

Torvares nodded slowly. “That’s when the real game will start. They’ll smile, they’ll flatter, and they’ll offer him titles and honors — anything to tie him to them. And if that doesn’t work…”

He met her eyes. “They’ll look to you next.”

Viola clenched her fists, her voice low and sharp. “Then I’ll be ready.”

Torvares’ smile returned — small, weary, but proud. “I expected nothing less from you.”

The fire crackled between them again, the room sinking back into silence.

Luna broke the silence first, her tone careful but thoughtful. “Then maybe… we should move them.”

Torvares and Viola both looked up.

“Elaine and Arslan,” Luna clarified, folding her hands neatly in front of her. “If the Empire really intends to apply pressure through them, then keeping them on Koa is the worst option. But if they were relocated to the border town…”

She paused, gauging her master’s expression. “With the Lionsguard and Ludger’s allies nearby, anyone would think twice before trying to touch them.”

Viola leaned back, eyes narrowing as she considered it. “You mean hide them in plain sight.”

“Exactly.” Luna’s voice carried a rare firmness now. “The soldiers owe Ludger their lives — half of them still talk about how he healed them after the northern campaign. He is practically a living legend among them already. No noble, no imperial envoy, would risk turning those people against the Empire by moving against his family.”

She shifted her weight slightly, a small smile ghosting across her face. “And besides, the northerners may be rough and unrefined, but they value honor above all. If anyone tried to lay a hand on Ludger’s kin while under their protection, it would start a blood feud before the day ended.”

Viola nodded slowly, tapping her chin. “That’s true… and he’s already on good terms with Kharnek, isn’t he?”

Torvares’s brows rose slightly, the faintest trace of amusement tugging at the edge of his lips. “Friends, from what I saw.”

Viola arched a brow. “Friends? You mean the same Kharnek who almost spat on his face when he explained the alliance.”

“The very same,” Torvares said, a low chuckle rumbling out of him. “Apparently, Ludger managed to win him over with his attitude — or maybe his stubbornness. Hard to tell which. I tried to watch Kharnek as much as possible during the last meeting, but I couldn’t do only that without looking suspicious.”

Luna smiled. “He does have that effect on people.”

Torvares leaned back, shaking his head slowly, still smiling. “Heh. I never thought that kid — with that troublesome smirk and habit of saying the wrong thing to the right people — would be the one forging friendships with northerners of all people.”

His smile softened, though the gleam in his eyes remained sharp. “But Luna’s right. Moving Father and Elaine north might be the best way to keep them safe. The farther from the capital’s reach, the better. Around here, politics is law. Up there… survival is.”

Viola nodded in agreement. “Then we prepare for it quietly. When Ludger returns, they’ll already have a place waiting for them.”

Luna gave a small bow. “I’ll begin arranging the logistics immediately, my lord.”

Torvares took another slow sip of wine, the firelight glinting against his ring once more. “Good. Let’s make sure that those vultures learns that the north isn’t theirs to meddle with anymore.”

Outside, the first drops of winter rain began to patter against the estate’s windows — a soft, steady rhythm that carried the promise of snow. And though the world beyond was cold, the thought of the frontier — of Ludger’s wild alliance and the unshakable trust he was building — brought a faint, almost defiant warmth to Lord Torvares’s chest.

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