Arslan couldn’t contain himself. That same night, he clapped Ludger on the shoulder with a grin that stretched ear to ear.

“Just you wait, Luds. One day, we’ll be a legendary father-son team. You with your magic, me with my sword—no monster will stand a chance!”

Ludger rolled his eyes. Yeah, because nothing screams “legendary” like a deadbeat who ran away for five years and his overworked reincarnated kid. Still, he didn’t bother to kill his father’s enthusiasm. It was pointless.

The next day, Arslan actually showed up with Harold, Selene, Aleia, and Cor in tow. He puffed his chest out, grinning like a fool.

“Watch this! My son’s got the hands of a healer!”

Before Ludger could protest, Arslan stuck his own arm out, asking for a scratch. Ludger sighed and use Nature’s Touch, letting the familiar green glow close a small cut. The group watched in silence as the wound sealed without a trace.

Arslan spun toward them, grinning like he’d just won a tournament. “See? Isn’t he amazing?!”

Selene pinched the bridge of her nose. Cor looked vaguely amused, Aleia raised an eyebrow, and Harold was the one who finally spoke, his deep voice rumbling.

“Arslan,” Harold said flatly, “don’t bring every breathing soul in Koa to watch this. If word spreads too far, there will be people who try to take advantage of him. You know that.”

Arslan froze mid-grin, sweat forming at his temple. “R-right… of course. I wasn’t gonna, you know… just the party, that’s all.”

Ludger smirked faintly. And here I thought I was the kid in this relationship.

The laughter and awkwardness from Arslan’s antics didn’t last long. After Harold’s warning, the party gathered around the table while Ludger sat off to the side, pretending to be more interested in the wood than the tension in the air.

Arslan broke the silence first, scratching the back of his head. “So… how exactly did you pick up healing magic, Luds? I mean, Maurien’s a mage, sure, but even he can’t heal.”

Ludger kept his answer vague, shrugging. “I just… learned it.”

It was the truth, but vague enough that it wasn’t useful. Cor adjusted his glasses, frowning as if that answer only deepened the mystery. Selene crossed her arms, gaze sharp, while Aleia leaned back in her chair, watching quietly.

“A kid this age shouldn’t even be able to channel mana like that,” Cor said finally. “And yet, not only does he use elemental spells, he’s already unlocked healing. That’s no accident.”

Harold nodded. “Which means the question isn’t how impressive it is—it’s what we do about it. If others find out, some will want to recruit him. Others will want to exploit him. Neither ends well.”

Arslan slammed his fist lightly against the table, frowning. “He’s my son. I’ll protect him.”

Selene’s lips thinned. “You can’t protect him from whispers, Arslan. Not forever.”

Aleia finally spoke, her voice calm but firm. “Then the only real choice is to decide his path now—before someone else decides it for him.”

The words hung in the air like a blade. Ludger didn’t even need to look up to know what was coming. Just days ago, his parents had been arguing about his future—and now here it was again, only with more voices thrown into the storm.

He stifled a sigh. Great. Back to being the main course on the ‘What should we do with Ludger?’ buffet.

Before the conversation could spiral further, Ludger finally lifted his head and spoke.

“You don’t have to argue about it—I’ll explain.”

All eyes turned to him. Arslan leaned forward, eager, while Elaine looked worried from the corner. The rest of the party simply waited.

“Maurien told me once,” Ludger began, “that if I wanted to make money, I should look into healing. He said healers are rare, valuable. So I tried. That’s how I ended up meeting someone else—someone who isn’t exactly… normal.”

Aleia’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Go on.”

“She lives in the alley behind the east side of the church,” Ludger continued. “She… likes to live alone and not be bothered. After I helped her clean the place up, she showed me one spell. Just one. Nature’s Touch. That’s the only reason I can heal at all. But she made it clear she doesn’t want to teach me anything else.”

A heavy silence followed his words.

Cor adjusted his glasses, curiosity flickering in his gaze. “Someone like that living in the city unnoticed? That in itself is remarkable. And for her to be a healer… even more so.”

Harold grunted, folding his arms. “But if she only gave him one spell, then she clearly wants to stay uninvolved. That’s her choice.”

Selene frowned. “Then Ludger’s telling the truth. He’s not some freak born with powers—he’s just… picking up what others show him.”

Arslan leaned back, scratching his cheek awkwardly. “Guess that means Maurien’s not the only one who’s been influencing him.”

Ludger smirked faintly. Influencing, huh? More like I’ve just been stubborn enough to dig everywhere until the system coughs something up.

The tension slowly ebbed from the room. Harold was the first to stand, his voice as steady as ever. “Then we leave it at that. If she doesn’t want to teach him more, so be it. But we keep an eye on Ludger’s growth. Quietly.”

Selene nodded, arms still crossed. “Agreed.”

Cor muttered something under his breath about how fascinating it all was, while Aleia simply tilted her head, studying Ludger with unreadable eyes. One by one, they let the discussion fade, though the weight of it lingered in the air.

That’s when Arslan leaned forward again, brows furrowed. “But tell me this, Luds… why are you so worried about money? You could just ask me if you needed something.”

Ludger gave him a flat look. “You’re in debt, aren’t you? Why would I ask someone drowning for a rope?”

The words hit Arslan like a slap, and he visibly flinched. Elaine’s lips pressed together, but she didn’t intervene.

Ludger leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “I want to make money myself. Not ask for it. I don’t need to be rich, but I don’t want to be dead weight either. You already have your own problems to deal with, Father.”

For a long moment, Arslan just stared at him. Then, slowly, a conflicted smile spread across his face. His shoulders sagged as if a weight pressed on them, but his eyes shimmered with something close to pride.

“…You really are too mature for your age,” he muttered, voice low. “Troublesome, but… I can’t help being proud of that too.”

Ludger smirked faintly, though inside he sighed. Troublesome? At least he noticed that much.

That evening, after the others had left, Elaine cornered Ludger in the kitchen.

“You don’t need to shoulder everything already,” she said firmly, placing her hands on his small shoulders. Her green eyes were steady, but full of worry. “You’re a child. It’s not your job to think about debts or money. That’s for me and your father.”

Ludger looked away, lips twisting into a faint smirk. “I’m not a child, Mom. Not like most.”

Her expression softened, pained, but she didn’t argue further. She knew it was useless.

The next morning, Arslan’s voice boomed through the house, brimming with excitement. “I’ve got it! Luds, you can heal adventurers! Just minor cuts, bruises, nothing dangerous—but if people know my son is a healer, they’ll come to us. We’ll give discounts, build trust. It’s perfect!”

Ludger rubbed his temples. “Not a bad idea, but there’s a problem. I can only use the spell ten times in a row before I burn through all my mana. After that, I’m tapped out.”

Arslan blinked, then waved it off. “So? You’ll just get stronger. You’re already amazing.”

Easy for you to say, Ludger thought. Out loud, he thought, That means I either keep dumping points into Wisdom to expand my mana pool… or I figure out how to recover faster.

At that, Cor, who had been quietly flipping through a thick tome, finally closed it with a snap. “Mana recovery, is it? There are many ways. Potions, enchanted relics, even food can aid in replenishing mana, depending on the recipe.”

He adjusted his glasses, his tone clinical but steady. “Some combat skills are designed to restore mana during battle. But the most stable method, one available to anyone with patience, is to create a spiritual core within yourself. A well-formed core allows your body to cycle mana naturally, like breathing air.”

Ludger tilted his head. “A spiritual core?”

Cor nodded. “Exactly. It is the foundation of every Sage’s training. With it, your mana recovery will no longer depend entirely on your body’s limits. But be warned—it is advanced. Meditation and discipline over years are required. If you want to pursue it now, you must accept that progress will be slow.”

Ludger’s lips curved into a grin despite himself. Meditation, huh? Slow or not, if it makes me less useless between casts, then it’s worth it.

Elaine’s voice cut through the air like a blade.

“He is five.”

Everyone froze. Cor lowered his book, Harold scratched the back of his head, Selene suddenly found the ceiling very interesting, and even Arslan’s grin faltered.

Elaine’s green eyes narrowed, sharp as daggers, sweeping across the room. “All of you are talking about meditation, spiritual cores, training, fighting… Do you even hear yourselves? He’s a child. My child. And you’re already pushing him toward danger like he’s ready to march into the frontlines.”

Her glare lingered on each of them until, one by one, their gazes slipped away. Even Arslan, who always had something to say, just muttered, “I… might’ve gotten a bit carried away.”

They couldn’t deny it. Ludger was extraordinary, and their instincts as adventurers—and perhaps as people who saw a rare chance for greatness—kept pushing them to guide him. But Elaine was right. He wasn’t their prodigy. He was her son.

Ludger, sitting on a chair with his chin propped on one hand, smirked faintly at the awkwardness. Can’t blame them. It’s human nature to be dazzled by potential. But Mom… she’s not dazzled. She’s just scared I’ll leave the nest before I should.

And she wasn’t wrong. Deep down, Elaine feared not just the dangers of magic, monsters, or power. She feared her son slipping away from her too early—drawn into a world where she couldn’t protect him.

Ludger didn’t say anything. He just sat there, swinging his legs idly, his face as unreadable as ever. Elaine’s glare slowly softened, though the lines of worry never left her face. The rest of the party shuffled uncomfortably until, one by one, they found excuses to busy themselves elsewhere.

It’ll take time, Ludger thought, watching his mother out of the corner of his eye. She won’t believe me if I just say I’m not running off to a battlefield or diving into some labyrinth for glory and coin. Words aren’t enough. I’ll have to show her—bit by bit—that I’m not going to throw myself away chasing fame.

It wasn’t that Ludger didn’t crave strength. He did. But he had no illusions about what rushing ahead meant. He’d seen too many adventurers swagger into taverns with scars, broken limbs, or worse—missing faces in the parties that came back.

If I play this smartly, she’ll relax. I’ll grow at my own pace, in ways that don’t scare her. Then, when the time comes, she won’t panic when I take my next step.

For now, he simply leaned back and yawned, feigning the boredom of a normal five-year-old. If it eased her heart even a little, it was worth it.

Elaine sighed, brushing his hair gently before turning away. She still didn’t look convinced—but for now, she let it go.

Since Arslan’s party had to leave on another job, Ludger lost his chance to pry more details from Cor about Sage training. He had half-imagined it might involve sitting on some stone block at the top of a cliff, arms crossed while pretending to merge with nature—or something equally dramatic. Not that he could learn that way anyhow.

Regardless, he stuck to what he knew. His mornings were filled with pugilist drills and sword swings, his afternoons with little chores at the tavern, and his evenings with magic practice until his mana ran dry. The rhythm was steady, unremarkable even, but it kept him moving forward.

He also continued to visit the shadowed alley where Aronia lived. At first, it had been a battlefield of filth and scattered trash, but lately… there wasn’t much left to clean. People had stopped littering there. Maybe it was because they’d grown wary after catching him burning garbage with fire magic, or maybe they’d simply realized the alley wasn’t abandoned anymore.

Whatever the case, the narrow street was slowly changing. The air was cleaner, the ground clearer, and though Aronia never thanked him, she no longer scowled quite as hard when he passed by. For Ludger, that was victory enough.

One late afternoon, when Ludger was finishing his usual round of sweeping the alley, he felt her gaze on him. Aronia leaned against the doorway of her small, leaf-scented home, arms crossed, her expression less thorny than usual but no less curious.

“Why are you still here?” she asked flatly. Her voice carried that same grumpy tone, though there was something else behind it now—something that sounded almost like genuine curiosity. “Shouldn’t you be out somewhere else? Playing hero? Becoming famous as the ‘child healer’ everyone whispers about?”

Ludger paused, leaning on the broom, meeting her half-hidden greenish eyes.

So she’s noticed the rumors too…

He smirked faintly, shaking his head. “Fame? No thanks. I’ve already caused enough of a stir with just one spell. People stare at me like I’m some kind of circus act. That’s not what I want.”

Aronia tilted her head, her leafy hair rustling slightly as she studied him. “Then what do you want?”

“Simple,” Ludger said, matter-of-fact. “To get strong enough that my family and I can live safely. To learn everything I can while I’m still small enough that people underestimate me. And maybe,” his smirk grew sharper, “to annoy people like you by sticking around where I shouldn’t.”

For a moment, Aronia’s lips twitched, as though she might smile, but it vanished just as quickly. “Annoying, indeed,” she muttered before turning back inside.

But Ludger noticed something different—she hadn’t told him to leave. Not this time.

The next day, Ludger lingered again in the alley, half expecting her to shoo him away as usual. When she didn’t, he spoke up first.

“You probably noticed,” he said, leaning casually against the wall, “but I’m not really using my healing magic. Not in public, anyway.”

Aronia’s eyes flicked toward him, unreadable. “…And why’s that? Isn’t it what you wanted so badly?”

Ludger shrugged. “Because I don’t want to steal your clients. If people find out I can heal, they’ll stop looking for you. That wouldn’t sit right with me.”

For the first time, Aronia chuckled—a dry, almost amused sound that caught him off guard. “Clients? You really think I have those?”

Ludger blinked. “Don’t you?”

She shook her head, brushing a few strands of leafy hair behind her ear. “I don’t use my magic on people. Too many questions, too many problems. I only sell potions, and even then, not directly. I brew them, pass them to middlemen, and they resell them for profit. Less attention that way.”

That explained the dusty jars and faint herbal smells that clung to her clothes.

“So you’re telling me,” Ludger said slowly, “that I’ve been holding back all this time out of respect… for nothing?”

Aronia’s lips quirked, faint amusement flickering in her expression. “Exactly. But at least you showed more thought than most adults do.”

Ludger narrowed his eyes, then smirked. Great. I’ve been protecting a market that doesn’t even exist.

Still, her words weren’t dismissive. If anything, it felt like she was testing him—and he had passed, at least for now.

“That was a lie, by the way. I can’t use that magic often.”