The next morning, Ludger stood with his hands clasped behind his back, watching the second squad guide the younger children through their writing drills. The yard buzzed with activity, kids tracing letters older recruits correcting them, and the occasional argument breaking out about whether a crooked “E” still counted as an “E.”

  Ludger’s attention drifted, not to the noise in front of him, but to the quiet behind him.

  Two presences approached, light, careful, weightless. Not stepping on the ground but gliding just above it. Overdrive in the legs, controlled bursts of mana to carry them forward in long, silent stretches.

  It was a trick he had invented by copying Maurien, and only a handful of people even knew it existed. But these two? He recognized them instantly.

  The first presence was steady, composed, trying very hard to mask her breathing. A rhythm that matched disciplined training. The second… tripped halfway through a glide somehow, barely recovered, then stumbled again.

  Ludger didn’t even need Seismic Sense further to identify them. He waited until they were barely two meters behind him, until they thought they had actually pulled it off.

  Then he turned around. Viola froze mid-step, one foot still hovering a hand’s width above the ground. Luna’s momentum betrayed her, she yelped, flailed her arms, and landed on both feet with a loud thump that defeated the entire purpose of sneaking.

  Viola groaned, face twisting. “Luna! I told you that I couldn’t land softly!”

  Ludger stared at them flatly. “…You two are terrible at hiding.”

  The second squad and half the kids had stopped to watch, wide-eyed, whispering behind hands.

  Ludger sighed and raised an eyebrow. “What exactly was the plan?”

  Viola straightened, composure snapping back into place. “To sneak up on you.”

  Ludger blinked. “Why?”

  Viola opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, And said the least convincing line of her life:

  “No reason.”

  Ludger’s stare didn’t move.

  Luna nudged Viola, whispering loudly, “Just tell him, it’s fine—”

  Viola whirled on her with a hiss. “Luna!”

  The yard fell into awkward silence as Viola tried to regain whatever scraps of intimidation she had left.

  She failed.

  Spectacularly.

  Finally, with shoulders stiff and cheeks faintly red, she looked back at Ludger and muttered:

  “…Grandfather sent me.”

  Ludger nodded once, unsurprised.

  “Of course he did.”

  Viola deflated. The ambush was ruined, Luna was mortified, and Ludger had spotted them effortlessly. But at least one thing was clear:

  Whatever Torvares wanted… it wasn’t something he trusted anyone else to deliver. And Viola was only just getting started.

  Viola cleared her throat, straightened her posture, and tried to regain whatever dignity she had left after the failed ambush. Luna stood behind her like a guilty shadow, fidgeting with her sleeves.

  “Alright,” Viola said, exhaling sharply. “Let me explain before this becomes… worse.”

  Ludger crossed his arms. “Go on.”

  Viola held up a finger, slipping into the tone she used when delivering political news she really didn’t want to deliver.

  “Grandfather has been receiving… complaints.”

  Ludger didn’t react, but internally he wasn’t surprised.

  “Complaints,” he repeated blandly.

  “Yes,” Viola confirmed, irritation creeping into her voice. “From nobles. From nearby territories. From minor lords.” She took a breath. “They’re angry because a lot of children from their lands are suddenly leaving.”

  Ludger tilted his head. “To come here?”

  “To come to Lionfang,” Viola corrected, emphasizing the name. “More specifically, to you.”

  Behind her, Luna stepped up. “… actually, they’re leaving in groups sometimes. Some caravans mentioned seeing entire families guiding the children toward Torvares lands…”

  Viola nodded. “Exactly. It’s becoming noticeable. And nobles hate when something happens that they can’t explain or control.”

  Ludger stayed quiet, waiting for the rest. Viola took in another steadying breath and continued, voice low and serious:

  “They think the sudden… immigration is suspicious. Too coordinated. Too fast. Too concentrated here.”

  Ludger understood the problem immediately.

  “So the rumors started.”

  “Of course they did,” Viola said, throwing up her hands. “And they’re spreading like wildfire. Some nobles are claiming you’re teaching kids to cast advanced attack spells. Others say you’re building an underground mage army. There’s even a rumor about you creating… ‘superchildren.’”

  Ludger blinked. “…Superchildren?”

  Viola rubbed her face. “It’s ridiculous, I know. But nobles don’t care about accuracy,they care about anything that could threaten their political standing.”

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  She paced a short circle, frustration simmering beneath her composed exterior.

  “And because they can’t get answers, they complain to my grandfather. Loudly. Repeatedly. Aggressively.”

  Ludger nodded once. He had seen this coming the moment the orphans from other territories started showing up. Sooner or later, someone with too much free time and too few brain cells was going to make an issue out of it. Viola finally stopped pacing and faced him squarely.

  “We can control the situation before it grows into something national,” she said firmly. “But only if you shut them up long enough for Grandfather to settle the matter.”

  Ludger raised an eyebrow. “And let me guess, I do that, by…”

  Viola’s expression tightened, half annoyance, half reluctant admiration.

  “By making the sculptures they keep demanding.”

  Luna winced. “They’re offering a lot of money… and a lot of noise if you refuse.”

  Viola nodded. “If you accept their commissions, even slowly, one at a time, it’ll silence them long enough for us to redirect attention and calm the paranoia. Nobles only yell when they feel ignored. Feed them some art, and they’ll have something shiny to distract themselves with.”

  Ludger exhaled through his nose. Politics. The one enemy he couldn’t punch. But she wasn’t wrong. And he’d known he couldn’t dodge noble attention forever, not after creating a monument that blessed an entire territory with stat boosts.

  Viola stepped closer, lowering her voice.

  “This isn’t about bowing to them,” she said. “This is about preventing them from stirring trouble. Grandfather can handle the political angle. But only you can shut up their egos.”

  She held out the folded parchment Torvares had given her.

  “And unfortunately… this time, we need you to cooperate, Ludger.”

  Ludger stared at the parchment in Viola’s hand for a long, quiet moment before he finally spoke.

  “I don’t like,” he said slowly, “when people try to push me into doing things I have no interest in.”

  Viola didn’t flinch. She nodded once, firmly, like she’d been expecting that answer.

  “I know,” she said. “Believe me, I understand. Nobles are demanding, entitled, and think everyone exists to serve their whims. If someone tried to force me into doing their work for them, I’d set their curtains on fire.”

  Luna whispered, “You’ve actually done that.”

  Viola hissed, “Luna, quiet.”

  But then she sighed and turned back to Ludger with a more composed expression.

  “That’s why I think… maybe it’s fine if you show a little force.”

  Ludger’s eyebrow rose. “Show force?”

  Viola nodded. “Enough to make them hesitate. Enough to remind them why they should be polite and patient while asking you for favors.”

  Ludger blinked. “What, exactly, do you expect me to do? Destroy their buildings? Collapse the walls around their towns? Crater their fields?”

  Luna took a step back, just in case.

  Viola lifted both hands defensively. “Whoa, no, no, not that far! Well… not usually.”

  Ludger stared at her.

  Viola cleared her throat. “Just a demonstration. Controlled. Small. Something that makes the nobles think before they try to threaten or pressure you. You’re strong, Ludger. Even nobles understand force better than diplomacy.”

  She paused, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

  “And if you can repair any damage afterward, then, technically, no one should complain. Right?”

  Ludger’s eye twitched. “…You want me to show up, break something important, then fix it?”

  Viola hesitated. “In a manner of speaking.”

  Luna whispered, “Viola, that’s… insane.”

  “It’s practical,” Viola shot back. “If he shakes the ground under their feet a couple of times, they’ll realize he’s not someone to push around. Then he can accept their sculpture requests at his own pace. No pressure. No threats. Just favors exchanged under the understanding that Ludger is not a servant.”

  Ludger exhaled slowly, not entirely sure if she was joking or dead serious. Knowing Viola? Probably dead serious. She stepped closer, expression earnest now, a mix of noble confidence and protective instinct.

  “Look… I don’t want them treating you like a tool. Or like a child they can push. If you give them a reason to fear you just a little, they won’t dare to demand anything ever again. And then, while they’re still shocked, you give them a beautiful sculpture and suddenly you’re a terrifying artist they respect.”

  Luna muttered, “That is… somehow the most noble and most unhinged plan I’ve ever heard.”

  Viola ignored her.

  “Just a few demonstrations,” Viola insisted. “Crack a courtyard, shake a tower, raise a wall from the ground, something flashy, something you can undo in seconds. You’re a geomancer. You can terrify and impress people simultaneously.”

  Ludger rubbed a hand over his face. He really didn’t like politics. But… He also knew she wasn’t wrong. Fear made nobles cautious. Respect made them cooperative. And a repaired demonstration left no lasting damage.

  “Fine,” Ludger said finally. “A few demonstrations. No collapsing towns.”

  Viola grinned victoriously. “Perfect. That’s all we need.”

  Luna whispered, “I can already hear the nobles screaming…”

  Ludger exhaled again. Looks like the next few weeks just got louder.

  Viola hesitated for a moment, her earlier confidence cooling into something more cautious. She glanced at Luna—who made a tiny “don’t drag me into this” gesture—then looked back at Ludger with the expression of someone about to open a box labeled Guaranteed Problems Inside.

  “…There is another option,” she said.

  Ludger immediately narrowed his eyes. “What kind of option?”

  Viola shifted her weight, fingers brushing her braid. “You’re not going to like it.”

  “I already don’t,” Ludger replied flatly. “Say it.”

  She drew a long breath, as if preparing him for an impact spell.

  “Receive a noble title.”

  Ludger’s expression didn’t change.

  It darkened.

  Viola continued quickly, before he could interrupt. “Grandfather’s influence is strong enough. If he pushes the right strings, you could become a baron. Maybe even the baron of Lionfang itself.”

  Luna’s eyes widened slightly at the idea, but she said nothing.

  Viola stepped closer, tone firm and surprisingly logical. “Think about it. You already have everything they look for: support from the northerners, international connections through Dalan and Linne, respect from powerful mages like Maurien and Gaius, and influence over an entire generation of students. Nobles already treat you like a political actor. A title would… formalize that.”

  Ludger didn’t move.

  She went on. “They wouldn’t be able to complain about you teaching kids. They wouldn’t question your sculptures. They couldn’t accuse you of disrupting territories because you’d be a recognized force. You’d outrank half the people sending letters.”

  Silence.

  She held up one fingered hand. “But—there’s one problem.”

  Ludger’s eyebrow twitched. “Only one?”

  “You’d have to actually deal with politics,” Viola admitted. “Attend councils, manage land, handle disputes, sign papers… listen to nobles whine in person. You’d have to play the game instead of breaking the board.”

  Luna, gently: “You’d need a desk. A real one.”

  Ludger stared at them both for several long seconds, long enough that the second squad paused their lessons behind him, sensing danger. Finally he inhaled. Then said, with perfect clarity:

  “…hell.

  Fucking.

  No.”

  Viola burst into a grin, bright and victorious. “Thought so.”

  Luna exhaled in relief. “Oh thank the gods…”

  Viola added, “I only mentioned it because Grandfather said you’d refuse before he even finished the sentence.”

  “That’s because I have a brain,” Ludger muttered.

  Viola shrugged, still smiling. “Well… now you definitely have to make a few nobles scream and then sculpture their halls to shut them up.”

  She patted his shoulder.

  “Welcome to politics, Ludger. You can’t escape it… but you can terrify it.”