Elaine’s fury shook the walls, her grip on Arslan tight enough that even his reckless grin faltered. Her aura rippled through the hall like barbed wire, snapping against anyone who dared breathe too loud.

“Mother,” Ludger said, his voice flat but steady as he stepped forward. “If you keep shouting, he’ll bleed out before you’re finished.”

Elaine froze, her eyes narrowing at him, but Ludger didn’t flinch. He touched her arm gently, guiding her back a step. “Let me work.”

For a long, tense moment, it seemed she might lash out at him too—but then her shoulders sagged, and she allowed him to step past.

Ludger raised his hands, his palms glowing with soft light. One by one, he moved among the battered adventurers. Selene hissed when his touch knit torn muscle under her bandages. Harold groaned as the swelling in his thigh eased, enough to bear weight again. Aleia’s cheek wound closed into a thinner scar, no longer raw and angry. Even Cor’s burn cooled, the charred flesh smoothing over.

When he reached Arslan, the man just grinned down at him, despite the blood seeping through his ribs. “My son, the miracle worker. Maybe you’re the one who should’ve come with us.”

Ludger scowled faintly and pressed his glowing hand against the wound. “You’d be dead already if I had.”

The room quieted as the light dimmed, their pain eased but not erased. Healing Touch sped up recovery, mended the worst of the damage, but it couldn’t undo the fatigue, the scars, or the deeper toll of battle. At least not immediately with Ludger’s skill level.

Arslan sank into a chair with a heavy sigh, the others following suit. For a moment, the hall was filled only with the sounds of armor creaking and deep, weary breaths.

Then Arslan spoke.

“They didn’t give us much to work with,” he said, his grin gone, replaced by a bitter edge. “The empire talks big, but when the blood starts flowing, healers turn coward. Not many want to set foot on the battlefield when they know they’ll be the first targets.”

Selene nodded grimly, her good hand tightening into a fist. “And the lords near the border? Most of them held back their banners. Claimed they were ‘protecting their lands.’ Cowards.”

Arslan leaned back, staring at the ceiling. “So, no progress. Not a damn step forward. The barbarians still hold the town. Still squat on that labyrinth. And every day they dig in deeper.”

Silence fell again.

Elaine’s eyes burned like coals, her hand clenching at the edge of the table. “So you risked your lives,” she said softly, dangerously, “for nothing.”

Arslan’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue.

Ludger stood off to the side, his face unreadable. Not nothing, he thought. They’ve learned how unprepared the empire really is.

But he kept the words to himself.

“Well, at least Lord Torvares paid us well enough. More than we ever gained during six months with random labyrinth explorations. Enough to pay my debt for the house.”

When Elaine stormed off—still fuming but calmer now that the worst of their wounds were closed—Ludger stayed behind with his father and the battered party. The room was quieter, the air heavy with fatigue instead of rage.

He crossed his arms and looked at Arslan. “So. Are you going back?”

Arslan rubbed at the bandages across his ribs, then gave a crooked grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “In two weeks. That’s the order. The conflict’s not ending anytime soon, and they’ll need every body that isn’t rotting in the dirt.”

Ludger frowned. Two weeks. He tilted his head, his tone dry. “So you’ll limp back into the fire and hope you don’t burn?”

“Pretty much,” Arslan said with a shrug.

That was when Ludger spoke the thought that had been simmering since the word “labyrinth” left his grandfather’s mouth. “Then maybe you should bring Aronia with you.”

The name pulled the party’s attention. Even Selene raised a brow.

“Your healing master?” Harold asked, scratching his chin. “The half-human, half-dryad woman?”

Ludger nodded. “She has the strength of the forest behind her. Healing that doesn’t just patch wounds, but restores stamina, bolsters vitality. If you’re short on healers, she could keep you standing. Good luck convincing her, though.”

Arslan leaned back in his chair, his grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Aronia, huh? Haven’t seen her in years.” He chuckled, though there was a note of hesitation in his tone. “Not sure if she’d want to leave her home just to babysit me while I get stabbed again.”

“She trained me, a bit.” Ludger said flatly. “She isn’t heartless.”

That made the room go quiet. Even Cor glanced up from his tired brooding, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

Arslan tapped his fingers against the table, thoughtful now. “Maybe you’re onto something, kid. Two weeks is enough time to send word. If Aronia agrees, we’d be walking back into hell with more than just stubbornness.”

The room fell into uneasy silence. Arslan drummed his fingers on the table, while the others exchanged glances.

Selene was the first to break it. “Bringing a half dryad into an imperial battlefield isn’t that simple. You know how the nobles view outsiders—especially one that isn’t fully human.”

Cor adjusted his spectacles, his voice tired but sharp. “It would raise questions. Half-dryad or not, Aronia’s presence would unsettle the other lords. Some would call it desperation, others heresy. The empire doesn’t like leaning on powers they can’t chain with titles and crests.”

Aleia smirked faintly, though it was strained. “On the other hand, imagine their faces when she heals what their pampered clerics can’t. They’ll gnash their teeth, but they won’t argue if it keeps them alive.”

Harold chuckled, wincing as his bandaged thigh protested. “Wouldn’t be the first time a noble spat at an ally while begging for their help. Politics makes hypocrites of everyone.”

Arslan leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. His grin was there, but it was thinner now, weighed down by thought. “They’re right, Ludger. Aronia could turn the tide for us—but the lords will choke on it. They’d rather bleed slowly than admit they need a druid.”

Ludger shrugged, his voice flat. “Then let them choke. If they can’t handle it, that’s their problem. You need healers. She’s stronger than most of the priests hiding in their temples.”

Selene’s eyes softened, though her tone stayed hard. “The boy’s not wrong. If it’s our lives on the line, politics should be the last concern. But convincing Aronia to leave her grove, let alone dragging her into the mess of noble armies… that’ll be another battle on its own.”

Arslan chuckled low, leaning back in his chair. “Still… if anyone could talk her into it, it’d be you, Ludger. You’re her student. She might listen.”

Ludger kept his face unreadable, but inside he felt the familiar spark of resolve. It is up to me once again…

The next morning, Ludger slipped away from the house. Elaine was distracted fussing over Arslan’s fresh scars, which gave him the perfect window to head for his destination.

It didn’t take long to find her. Aronia’s home was the same as always, cleaner than before air thick with the scent of earth and blooming flowers. And at its heart, sitting on a smooth stone with a carved staff across her lap, was Aronia herself.

Her hair, half dark brown and half green like living moss, shimmered in the dappled sunlight. When she looked up at him, her eyes—bright and faintly glowing—curved into a wry smile.

“Well,” she said, her voice smooth and teasing. “If it isn’t my runaway vistiro. I thought you’d forgotten about me after the tournament.”

Ludger stopped just at the edge of the grove, his arms crossed, his tone flat. “Didn’t forget. Just didn’t come earlier because my mother needed some attention.”

Aronia chuckled softly, setting her staff aside. “Mmm. I suppose she always will, won’t she? A boy should never keep his mother waiting, after all.”

Ludger exhaled through his nose. “Not much choice.”

She tilted her head, studying him. “So… what brings you here now? I doubt you came just to say hello. I smell trouble.”

Ludger didn’t bother circling the subject. He stepped closer into the grove, his eyes steady on hers.

“I want you to join the war effort.”

Aronia blinked, then let out a soft laugh, melodic and sharp all at once. “Straightforward as ever. No greeting, no pleasantries, just a demand.” She leaned her cheek into her hand, watching him with amusement. “And why, exactly, would I walk away from my home to dive into the mud of men’s wars?”

“Because they need healers,” Ludger said flatly. “The army doesn’t have enough. Most healers won’t go near the battlefield—they’re too scared of being targeted. My father and his party came back half-dead, not because they were weak, but because there was no one to patch them up. If this keeps up, the empire won’t take back the town. And the labyrinth will fall into the wrong hands. I decided to skip the pleasantries and let that for later since I wanted to make my intention clear instead of hiding it.”

Aronia’s smile faded slightly, her gaze narrowing as she listened.

“You’re asking me to cross a line,” she murmured. “The empire isn’t kind to dryad. They’ll take my strength while they need it, then brand me a nuisance when it’s over.”

“Then don’t do it for the empire,” Ludger replied, his tone cool and sharp. “Do it for my father’s party. I need you to keep them alive—my father, his party. If they die, it’ll cause more trouble than just lost soldiers.”

For a long moment, the grove was silent but for the whisper of leaves.

Aronia studied him, her expression unreadable. Finally, she gave a slow smile—not the teasing one she’d greeted him with, but something deeper, more thoughtful.

“You’ve grown sharper since the last time we spoke,” she said softly. “Less boy, more… something else.”

Ludger didn’t answer. He just waited.

Aronia planted her staff into the soft earth, her leafy cloak rustling as she turned back to him. The smile on her lips was faint, but her eyes were sharp.

“I’ll be honest, Ludger—I have no reason to help the empire,” she said. “They’ve never done me favors, only watched me from the corners of their eyes like I was something dangerous. If they bleed, it isn’t my concern.”

Ludger stayed quiet, letting her words hang.

She sighed softly, tilting her head. “Still… for you, I might consider it. But only if I get something in return.”

“What?” Ludger asked.

“Guards,” she replied. “At least two. Not your father’s drunken friends, not borrowed adventurers—proper protection. I won’t waste my strength fending off every opportunist or fanatic who decides that a dryad doesn’t belong on the battlefield. If I’m to patch up soldiers while arrows fly, someone else will watch my back.”

She tapped her staff against the ground, her tone firm. “You have a connection with Lord Torvares, don’t you? If anyone can provide the kind of guards I require, it’s him. So it’s up to you to negotiate that.”

Ludger folded his arms, considering her demand. It wasn’t unreasonable. Dangerous, maybe, but far from impossible.

Finally, he nodded once. “Fine. I’ll speak to him. If I can get you guards, you’ll go.”

Aronia’s smile widened, a flash of teeth among the shadows of her grove. “Then we have an agreement.”

By the time Ludger returned to home, the sun was already dipping low. The courtyard smelled of boiled herbs and steel polish—Arslan’s party resting where they could, mending gear, muttering over their wounds. Elaine was nowhere to be seen, likely sulking in her room after another round of snapping at Arslan.

Ludger found them in the dining hall. Arslan perked up immediately, one brow raised. “Well? Did the druid chase you out with a branch?”

“No,” Ludger said flatly, taking a seat. “She’ll consider coming. But she set a condition.”

Selene leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “Condition?”

“She doesn’t care about the empire,” Ludger explained, tone even, “but she agreed to heal if she has at least two guards protecting her. She doesn’t want to waste her energy fighting off idiots who’ll come after her instead of the enemy.”

Harold whistled low. “Smart woman. Druids are walking targets. Nobles hate them, healers hate them, enemies hate them… yeah, she’d get swarmed.”

Aleia smirked. “At least she knows her worth. I like her already.”

Cor adjusted his spectacles, thoughtful. “And she wants guards? Not adventurers?”

“Guards,” Ludger confirmed. “The kind with discipline. Which means we’ll have to ask Lord Torvares.”

That made the table go quiet. Even Arslan rubbed his jaw, his grin crooked. “He’ll raise a fuss, but… if it’s for the war, he might bend. Especially if I tell him it was you who asked.”

Selene’s lips tightened. “It’s a gamble. Some lords will see her presence as strength. Others will see it as an insult. But… with the state of the front, they might not have a choice.”

Ludger leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “She gave me her answer. Now it’s up to us to match it.”

The room settled into silence, each of them weighing what this could mean.

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

“So… you’ve been scheming behind my back now.”

Everyone turned. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed, her gaze locked on Ludger. Her aura pressed into the room, heavy and suffocating, daring anyone to argue.

Ludger didn’t flinch. He knew better. “I told her what I wanted. She gave me her condition. That’s all.”

Elaine’s eyes narrowed, but after a long silence, the edge of her aura softened. She stepped closer, resting a hand on his shoulder, her grip tight enough to remind him of her strength.

“You’re clever, my little one. Too clever. But cleverness drags you toward danger faster than steel.” Her gaze flicked to Arslan and his battered party, then back to Ludger. “I’ll allow this—because it was your idea—but hear me well: you are not setting one foot near that battlefield.”

Her tone left no room for argument.

“Instead,” she added more softly, her hand brushing his hair back, “you can visit your sister. She’ll be training hard with Torvares, and she’ll be glad to see you. But the war? No.”

Ludger held her gaze, then let the faintest smile tug at his lips. “Don’t worry. That was never my intention anyway.”

He meant it, too. The battlefield wasn’t his stage—not yet. There were other ways to grow stronger, other paths to walk. And Elaine didn’t need to know which ones he had in mind.

Elaine tapped her fingers against her arm, studying him. She didn’t argue, but her lips pressed into a thin line. Finally, she spoke:

“Fine. But I’m coming with you.”

Ludger blinked, though he wasn’t surprised. “Of course you are.”

“You’ll not take one step outside my sight,” she continued, her aura swelling until even Arslan winced from across the room. “I won’t have you wandering off by accident.’ You’ll see your sister, you’ll spend your time with her, and then you’ll come home with me. No detours. No excuses.”

Ludger smirked faintly, folding his arms. “You make it sound like I’m planning to escape.”

Elaine leaned down, her hand gripping his chin, her eyes gleaming with that possessive fire. “Because you are. I know you. Every time you smile, you’re hiding a plan.”

Ludger chuckled low, unbothered. “Then I guess it’s a good thing this time, I’m only planning to annoy Viola.”

Elaine held his gaze for another long second before finally straightening. “Good. Because if you try to slip away toward the war, I’ll drag you back by the ear—even if I have to tear through an army to do it.”

Arslan coughed into his hand, muttering, “Wouldn’t put it past her.”

Ludger just smiled, quiet and thin. Let her think that. I’m not after battlefields yet. My stage is somewhere else entirely.

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