Ludger’s eyes sharpened as he stepped a little closer. “Then tell me this—how exactly do you manipulate the mana on the earth? Not just feel it, but move it. And if someone has a Spiritual Core…” he tapped his chest lightly, “…does that make it easier?”

For the first time, Gaius didn’t answer right away. His bloodshot gaze swept over Ludger, lingering just a little too long—on his stance, on the faint glimmer of control in his eyes. Then he grunted, turning his back on them.

“I’ve already taught too much for one day,” he said roughly. “If you’re smart, you’ll chew on what you’ve got before asking for seconds.”

Ludger’s jaw tightened, a sharp click of his tongue breaking the silence. So close. He could feel it—he was just one push away from a real demonstration.

One show of that “creation and transformation” in action, one glimpse of how to anchor mana to the earth, and I could reverse-engineer the rest and unlock the class.

But Gaius had closed up again, his bottle swinging lazily at his side as he trudged back toward the guildhall’s shadow.

Viola shot Ludger a confused look. “That’s it? He’s done?”

Ludger exhaled through his nose, smirk faint but sharp. “For now. We’re closer than we were yesterday.”

He watched Gaius’ retreating figure disappear into the hall. Keep your secrets for now, old man. I’ll get that demonstration out of you one way or another.

Viola’s scowl deepened as Gaius vanished into the guildhall. She spun on her heel to face Ludger, fists on her hips. “This is ridiculous. He’s just going to keep hiding behind that bottle forever.”

Ludger stayed silent, still watching the doorway, his arms folded.

Then Viola’s eyes lit up with a dangerous glint. “What if we provoke him? You know—poke at him until he snaps and shows us what he can really do. If we get him mad enough, maybe he’ll use his magic without thinking!”

Ludger’s head turned slowly, his gaze like a blade. “…You’re serious.”

She shrugged, a little grin creeping onto her face. “Worked with my sparring partners back home. People show their real moves when they’re angry.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing through his teeth. “This isn’t a sparring partner, Viola. This is a guildmaster who can conjure walls out of thin air. You go poking at a wound like his, and you won’t get a lesson—you’ll get buried.”

Viola’s grin faltered, but she tried to puff up again. “I’m not scared.”

“I know,” Ludger said dryly. “That’s why I’m telling you no. He’s not some training dummy. He’s an earth mage who could crush you without even getting out of his chair.”

Her shoulders slumped. “…So what do we do then?”

Ludger’s smirk returned, faint but sharp. “We watch. We wait. And we look for the right way to bait him without making him snap. We’ll get our demonstration—but on our terms, not his.”

Viola groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “Ugh. You’re so boring.”

“And you’re still alive,” Ludger replied. “You’re welcome.”

By the time the sun bled out behind the jagged rooftops, the guildhall had gone quiet again. The clamor of the miners and vendors faded, replaced by the distant hum of the city at night.

Luna returned just as the first stars appeared, her steps light and sure despite the cracked stones of the area. She slipped inside with a small bundle under one arm and a calm nod to the two waiting kids.

They spread their dinner out on one of the newly scrubbed tables—bread, salted meat, a few roasted vegetables she’d managed to barter for, even a small jar of jam. The hall still smelled faintly of dust and stale liquor, but at least the table was clean and the air didn’t choke them anymore.

It was strange, though, to eat in a place like this. The massive front doors hung open to the night, hinges rusted and locks long gone. Anyone could have wandered in.

Viola chewed her bread and kept glancing at the yawning doorway. “Feels weird, eating with the entrance wide open like that.”

Luna poured water into a cup and set it in front of her. “Public order here is not as bad as it looks. The slums aren’t safe, but this quarter still has a code of its own. People know who used to run this hall.”

Ludger nodded once, tearing off a piece of meat. “And nobody wants to poke a drunk who can raise stone walls with a flick of his wrist. Even broken, Gaius still casts a long shadow.”

Viola muttered under her breath but went back to eating. The three of them sat together at the empty table under the cracked beams, the night air cool against their faces. For now, at least, the ruined guild was theirs.

They ate in relative silence for a few moments, the sounds of chewing and the faint night breeze filling the hall. Then Luna set her cup down and spoke, her tone as calm and precise as always.

“I asked around while gathering supplies,” she began. “The city itself is still relatively stable. That is thanks to the noble house controlling this territory. They’re wealthy, and they invest heavily in security—hiring veteran adventurers, powerful mercenaries, and soldiers to keep order.”

Viola perked up, crumbs at the corner of her mouth. “So it’s not as bad as it looks?”

Luna shook her head slightly. “Not on the surface. But the mines and the labyrinth are another matter entirely. Accidents happen frequently. Cave-ins, missing miners, vanished adventuring parties. Despite these patterns, the official word is always the same—‘accidents.’”

Ludger’s eyes narrowed, fingers drumming lightly against the tabletop. Accidents. Right. And I look like Leonardo Dicaprio.

Luna went on. “There are whispers of something else—strange phenomena, creatures appearing where they shouldn’t. But the rumor that spreads fastest is always the same: accidents, nothing more.”

Viola frowned. “You think that’s true?”

Ludger smirked faintly, though his eyes stayed sharp. “Truth or not doesn’t matter. It’s the story they want people to believe. If the mines and the labyrinth are bleeding bodies and they’re still calling it an ‘accident,’ it means someone doesn’t want questions asked.”

Luna inclined her head. “Exactly. And we’re outsiders here. We need to tread carefully.”

Viola slumped back in her chair, pouting. “Great. So not only do we have a drunk for a teacher, but the labyrinth might be a death trap too.”

Ludger tore another piece of bread, voice dry. “Welcome to the world outside your grandfather’s walls.”

Viola pushed the empty plate away and leaned her elbows on the table, her chin resting in her palms. “So… what do we actually do tomorrow? Just sit here and hope he stops drinking long enough to teach us?”

Ludger didn’t even look up from the scrap of bread he was tearing apart. “No. The plan’s still the same.”

She blinked. “Training?”

He nodded once. “You’re going to keep training until you can reach me while I’m using magic. Dodging, blocking, closing the distance—until you can actually touch me without getting flattened. That’s your job.”

Viola groaned dramatically, slumping forward. “More target practice with me as the target. Great.”

Ludger smirked faintly. “You wanted the labyrinth. This is the price. Survive me first, survive it later.”

He shifted his gaze to Luna, his voice sharpening. “As for you—keep doing what you’re doing. Find people we can trade with, preferably ones who aren’t already on the payroll of some noble or crime family. It’s probably too late to keep our presence secret, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. We can’t afford the wrong kind of attention.”

Luna inclined her head once, expression calm. “Understood.”

Viola muttered under her breath, pouting. “You sound like a general planning a war…”

Ludger’s smirk didn’t fade. “Good. Because that’s exactly what this is, just smaller. Train, watch, prepare. Then move.”

He leaned back in his chair, eyes flicking toward the dark hall where Gaius had disappeared. And sooner or later, the old man will make his move. When he does, we’ll be ready.

The sun had barely cleared the rooftops when the first bolt hissed across the yard.

Viola pivoted hard on her toes, twisting her body the way Ludger had drilled into her, the mana-charged sphere slicing past her shoulder. She didn’t even flinch this time. Another bolt came a heartbeat later—she swung up her glowing sword, the impact cracking like thunder but her stance holding firm.

This was their new rhythm. Ludger stood at one end of the guild’s yard, calm and still, one hand raised. Mana flared and dimmed with each shot. He looked like a machine, eyes tracking her, firing without pause.

Viola’s blade blazed with [Weapon Enhancing], but now she wasn’t letting it flicker and die between hits. She was feeding mana into it constantly, a steady stream rather than desperate bursts. Every time a bolt shattered against her guard, she forced more energy into the weapon, refreshing the glow mid-swing.

Her breath came in sharp bursts, sweat streaking down her temple, but her movements were sharper than yesterday. She ducked one bolt, spun, and parried the next cleanly. The tremor in her arms was less now, her balance firmer.

Ludger watched with a faint smirk, even as another sphere formed at his fingertips. She’s learning to cycle her mana without thinking. That’s the first real step.

The next bolt came faster, curving to strike from an angle. Viola adjusted her footing, pivoting hard, her sword intercepting the glowing sphere and scattering it like glass. She felt the impact, but her blade held, its aura bright and steady.

She grinned despite herself, exhilaration flickering in her eyes. “Ha! You’re not shaking me off this time!”

Ludger’s smirk sharpened. “Good. Then stop talking and keep up.”

Another volley. Viola ducked, sidestepped, swung, her mana flowing steadily into the blade. Each impact still drained her, but she wasn’t panicking now—she was adapting, her control smoothing out under fire.

For the first time since they’d started, Ludger let his arm drop between shots, studying her stance. At this rate, she might actually reach me before she burns out.

Viola caught her breath between parries, sweat plastering her hair to her forehead. But her grin stayed. “I’m gonna get you, just watch!”

Ludger raised his hand again, a larger bolt blooming in his palm. “Then come on.”

Viola’s boots scraped against the packed earth as she lunged forward. Another bolt hissed past her ear; she ducked and kept moving. Her blade flared with [Weapon Enhancing], bright and steady as she poured more and more mana into it without hesitation.

“Come on!” she yelled, grin wide and eyes blazing. “I’m not stopping now!”

Ludger’s hand rose, another volley forming. He fired at different heights, different angles, making her twist and pivot just to stay on her feet. But she did. She ducked low, slashed one bolt away, spun and deflected another. Each step brought her closer, her momentum building, her wooden sword glowing like a torch.

She’s actually closing the gap, Ludger thought, narrowing his eyes. Good. Let’s see where she breaks.

He threw a heavier bolt straight at her chest. Viola snarled, shifting her weight and slamming her blade into it. The impact cracked like a gunshot. The glow around her sword sputtered violently—but she forced more mana in, holding it together. Another step. Another swing.

She was almost on him now. Three meters. Two.

Then her aura flickered a final time. Empty. Her reserves bottomed out like a bucket kicked over.

The next bolt hit her blade with a thunderclap. The wooden training sword split cleanly in half, the upper piece spinning away through the air before thudding into the dirt. Viola stumbled, panting hard, eyes wide with shock.

“Damn it!” she hissed, clicking her tongue as she stared at the broken hilt in her hands.

The glow faded completely, leaving only splintered wood and her own ragged breathing. She glared up at Ludger, who had lowered his hand, the last of his mana bolt dissipating harmlessly into the morning air.

He watched her calmly, one eyebrow raised. She made it almost to my reach before burning out. Not bad.

Ludger walked toward her, the splintered hilt still clutched in her hand. A faint glow flickered around his fingers as he pressed them to her shoulder. [Healing Touch] spilled into her muscles, dulling the tremors and easing the sting from her arms.

“You lasted longer than I expected,” he said, voice flat but not unkind. “Maybe next time I can start shooting real mana bolts at you. As long as you use your actual sword, you should be fine.”

Viola’s head snapped up, eyes gleaming despite the sweat on her brow. “You’re on,” she breathed, a wild grin spreading across her face.

Then her knees gave out.

Ludger moved fast, but she was already tipping forward. He caught her under the arms just enough to slow her fall, but she still hit the dirt on her side with a soft thud, the broken hilt rolling from her hand.

She was out cold, breathing hard but steady, exhaustion etched across her face.

Ludger crouched beside her, clicking his tongue. “Pushing yourself too hard, as usual…”

He sat back on his heels, eyes flicking toward the guildhall where Gaius lurked somewhere inside. She’s stubborn enough to break herself just to prove a point. If I’m not careful, she’ll be crawling back to Torvares looking like a battered mercenary instead of a noble heir.

He brushed some dirt from her cheek and muttered, “Get some rest, idiot. You’re no good unconscious.”

Luna appeared without a sound, her bag still slung over one shoulder. She took in the scene—the splintered training sword, Viola sprawled in the dirt, and Ludger crouched beside her—with one calm, unreadable glance.

Without a word, she knelt and slid her arms under Viola, lifting the girl with surprising ease for her age. “She overdid it again?”

Ludger exhaled through his nose. “As usual.”

“I’ll get her inside,” Luna said simply. She shifted her grip and carried Viola toward the hall, the girl’s head lolling against her shoulder.

Ludger watched them disappear into the dim interior, then straightened and walked to the edge of the yard. He sat cross-legged on the packed earth, closing his eyes.

His mana pool felt like a drained reservoir—still half full but sluggish. He hated that feeling. I don’t like letting it dip this low. If something happens now, I’m half a mage at best.

He took a slow breath, turning his awareness inward. The familiar pulse of his [Spiritual Core] flickered in the darkness behind his eyelids, steady but faint. He guided his breathing, coaxing mana to cycle, pulling the scattered threads back together.

Focus. Refill first, then test.

Gaius’s gruff words echoed in his mind—anchor, weight, environmental mana. Ludger rolled the concepts over like stones in his hands. If I can use Create Water by twisting the air’s oxygen, then maybe I can nudge the earth’s mana the same way… even if he won’t demonstrate it yet.

Another breath. Mana flowed a little stronger. His core pulsed, drawing in the ambient energy like a slow tide.

He kept his eyes shut, the broken yard around him fading as he focused on the warmth building in his chest. Step one: refill. Step two: experiment. Step three… force the old man’s hand.

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