Chapter 220
Chapter 220
Gaius tilted his head. “You’re thinking of claiming more of the labyrinth?”
Ludger nodded. “Originally, the split was fifty-fifty—Lionsguard and Ironhand. But if we’re doing the heavy lifting and protecting their people, that balance is gone. If Lucius can’t keep his end running, then the Lionsguard will take a bigger cut. That’s how guild work goes.”
Gaius smirked. “You sound more like a guild master every day.”
Ludger gave a faint shrug. “I have my moments. If one side stops carrying weight, the other takes control. It’s the only way things get done.”
The two of them waded out of the shallows and stood at the edge of the structure, looking down at what they’d built—the coral base, the layered stone, the interlocking supports branching beneath and above the surface like veins through the seabed.
It wasn’t elegant. It wasn’t refined. But it would hold.
“Good,” Gaius said. “That’s how it should be. A bridge isn’t just stone—it’s connection. Between land, between people.”
Ludger gave him a sidelong glance. “You’re sounding philosophical again.”
“Comes with age,” Gaius said with a dry chuckle. “And too much mana.”
Ludger snorted but didn’t argue. He turned back toward the workers still on site—those who had chosen to stay despite everything. A few of them were watching, wide-eyed, after seeing what he’d done to the supports.
“Start securing the outer layer,” Ludger called out. “We’ll reinforce the rest by the end of the day.”
They scrambled into motion, voices rising with a little more energy now that the ground wasn’t shifting under their feet.
Gaius stepped beside him. “You realize you’re setting a dangerous precedent, right?”
Ludger arched a brow. “How so?”
“You’re making miracles look easy,” Gaius said with a smirk. “Next thing you know, they’ll think you can build an entire harbor by yourself. You should be careful, or other people will try to force all kinds of jobs on you. Start learning how to say no already.”
Ludger rolled his shoulders. “If I have to.”
Four days later, the westward team returned.
The sun had already begun to sink when the first riders appeared over the ridge—dust trails behind them, armor dulled from dust and travel. Ludger and Gaius were still working near the bridge when they saw the familiar crest of Torvares fluttering.
“Looks like the hunt’s back,” Gaius said.
When they reached the base, Viola was the first to dismount. Her cloak was torn at the edges, boots splattered with mud and blood, but her posture still had that same stubborn confidence. Kharnek followed behind, carrying what looked like a broken trident slung over his shoulder. Freyra and Luna came next, looking no better—dusty, scraped, exhausted, but alive.
Elaine came out from the shelter with the twins in her arms, smiling softly as the group approached. “Back already?”
“‘Already,’ she says,” Viola muttered, brushing her hair back. “We’ve been hunting for days.”
Arslan stepped forward, scanning their faces. “Report.”
Viola exhaled and rolled her shoulders. “We got all of them—the sahuagins that went inland. Every single one. Some villages took damage before we arrived, though. Nothing total, but they’ll need rebuilding.”
Kharnek grunted in agreement. “They were organized. Three of ‘em… big ones. Like the bastard your boy fought on the bridge.” He gestured toward Ludger, who was leaning against a rock with his arms crossed. “Took a while for me to drop the first one.”
Freyra scowled. “They fought harder than the last wave. Like they knew we were coming.”
Luna, standing beside her, nodded quietly. “They’re not random beasts anymore.”
Ludger frowned. “Then they’re improving faster than expected.”
“Or someone’s training them,” Gaius added darkly.
Viola huffed, waving her hand. “Doesn’t matter. They’re dead now.”
Kharnek gave a short laugh. “You can thank Luna for that. Your little noble girl tried to solo one of the big ones.”
“I had it under control,” Viola snapped, glaring at him.
Luna arched a brow, her tone dry as ever. “You were breathing hard and limping, and trying to duel something twice your size with half a sword.”
Viola crossed her arms. “I was baiting it.”
“You were dying,” Luna corrected.
Freyra smirked, trying—and failing—to hide her amusement. “You should’ve seen it. Luna cut its neck before the thing could finish its lunge. Viola started shouting about stealing her kill before she even stopped bleeding.”
“Because I had the monster figured out!” Viola protested. “I was about to finish it off when someone decided to end my fun.”
Ludger sighed. “You call almost being impaled ‘fun.’”
“That’s experience!” Viola shot back.
Arslan pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something about “Torvares pride” under his breath.
Elaine chuckled softly from behind them. “At least you all came back in one piece.”
Viola straightened, brushing imaginary dust off her cloak. “Of course. I don’t break that easily.”
Ludger stepped forward, expression calm but with that dry edge in his tone. “You sure? Because I can already tell Luna’s been counting how many times she had to save you.”
Luna gave a faint, knowing smile. “Twice.”
Viola glared at both of them. “You two can shut up any time now.”
Kharnek laughed heartily, clapping her on the shoulder. “Relax, girl. You fought well. We all did.”
The mood lightened after that, exhaustion mixing with the quiet satisfaction of survival. The smell of cooked rations drifted from the campfires, and soon the group settled down along the shore as the sun dipped into the horizon.
Ludger watched them from the side—Viola boasting, Freyra rolling her eyes, Luna cleaning her blade with silent precision as if she wanted to turn it into a mirror. Despite the rough trip, the west was safe again.
Still, he couldn’t shake the thought. Three commanders. All showing up inland.
That wasn’t random.
The sahuagins weren’t just fighting—they were testing boundaries.
And whatever sent them had only just started playing its hand.
By nightfall, the campfire’s glow cast long shadows over the base.
The teams were finally resting—tending their wounds, cleaning armor, or dozing off beside the sound of waves. The air smelled faintly of salt, smoke, and dried blood.
Ludger sat on a low rock with Gaius, watching the ocean. Viola and the others were scattered nearby, talking quietly. It was one of the few moments of calm they’d had since the first attack.
Then a carriage appeared at the ridge—dark horses, silver trim, and the silver falcon crest of House Hakuen glinting under torchlight.
Lucius Hakuen had returned.
He looked as though he hadn’t slept since they last saw him. His usually neat hair was windblown, and his cloak was thrown over one shoulder, as if he hadn’t bothered with proper formality. When he stepped down, Rathen followed close behind, his expression equally grim.
The moment Lucius entered the circle of firelight, conversation died.
He didn’t waste time. “The Empire’s responded.”
That alone was enough to make the air tighten. Viola straightened immediately, her tone sharp. “Responded how?”
Lucius sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “They’re sending guilds. Not aid—guilds. ‘Specialized detachments’ to reinforce the region and contain the coastal threat.”
Ludger’s brows furrowed. “Contain, huh. Meaning they plan to take over if things get worse.”
Lucius gave a slow nod. “Exactly. If the attacks spread, they can invoke martial jurisdiction under the banner of ‘imperial coordination.’ That would give them control of the coast, the bridge project, and every shipment passing through it.”
Arslan’s expression hardened. “They’re cutting your authority.”
“Not just mine,” Lucius said. “The moment they seize the logistics network, every noble house tied to this coast, loses their influence. They’ll call it ‘stabilization,’.”
Viola clenched her fists. “So they waited for a crisis to take everything we built.”
Gaius snorted softly. “Classic imperial strategy. Let someone else bleed fixing the problem, then show up to ‘supervise’ once it’s safe.”
“Indeed,” Lucius said. “Once the Empire’s official guilds occupy the region, they’ll write off this whole operation as a ‘reclamation effort.’ All resources, all trade routes, all mana cores—registered under the capital’s authority.”
Silence settled again. Only the crackle of the fire and the distant crash of waves filled the air.
Elaine, who had been listening quietly with the twins in her arms, finally spoke. “That sounds like more than bureaucracy. It sounds personal.”
Lucius met her gaze and nodded slowly. “It is. There’s intent behind it. The timing’s too perfect—the sahuagin attacks, the worker panic, the Empire’s sudden ‘interest.’ Someone’s orchestrating this, and they’re sitting close to the Senate’s center.”
Viola frowned. “But why go this far just to cut down one noble house?”
“It’s not about me,” Lucius said quietly. “It’s about the coast. The bridge is more than a construction project—it’s a route to the archipelago labyrinth. Whoever controls that, controls access to resources the Empire doesn’t want anyone else touching. They are afraid of the influence that we might get from this. At least some people are.”
Gaius rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “So they’re using monsters to justify a political land grab. Bold. Insane, but bold.”
“Yes.” Lucius looked around at the group—tired soldiers, seasoned warriors, nobles, and mercenaries all thrown together by circumstance. “They’re betting we’ll collapse under pressure. If we stop the attacks and finish this bridge, we take that narrative away from them.”
Ludger’s voice was steady but cold. “Then we don’t give them an excuse. We keep building. And if those guilds come, they’ll find we’ve already done their job better.”
Lucius managed a tired smile. “That’s what I was hoping to hear.”
Arslan stood, brushing sand from his gloves. “We’ve fought off monsters, bandits, and worse. We can handle a few politicians.”
“Politicians are slipperier,” Gaius muttered.
“Then we’ll just use rougher hands,” Ludger said, standing as well.
That drew a few faint smiles despite the tension. Even Elaine couldn’t help but shake her head at her son’s tone.
Lucius exhaled slowly, relief flickering across his face. “Then it’s settled. We hold the coast and finish the bridge before the Empire arrives. If we succeed, they’ll have to recognize this territory as ours.”
He looked out toward the sea, where the moonlight glinted off the half-built structure stretching into the horizon. “This isn’t just about survival anymore. It’s about ownership.”
The group nodded in silent agreement. They were no longer just building a bridge.
They were building a claim—one that the Empire would have to fight to take.
Lucius’ carriage still stood at the edge of the camp when he motioned to Rathen, who carried a small chest bound with brass clasps. He set it down beside the fire, and when Lucius opened it, the contents caught the light—subtle, but unmistakably magical.
Inside rested a pair of gloves that emitted a faint brown glow, and a small amulet with a blue gem that pulsed with a soft, steady blue light.
“I’ve been… falling behind on my end of the bargain,” Lucius admitted, his tone calm but heavy. “So I brought something to even that out.”
Ludger and Gaius exchanged a glance.
Lucius lifted the gloves first. The fabric looked like treated leather, but the faint runes etched along the knuckles made it clear it was far more than that. “These are Earthen Channelers. Rare pieces. They halve the mana cost of all earth-based spells. They take years to craft because the runes have to be bonded to a geomancer’s natural resonance.”
He then held up the amulet—a blue stone encased in silver filigree, shimmering faintly like calm ocean light. “And this… this is a Core Amplifier. It doubles the efficiency of your Spiritual Core. Every pulse, every recovery, every transformation of ambient mana—it will hit twice as hard.”
Even Gaius’ usual composure slipped. “You’re handing those over?”
Lucius nodded. “I can’t find workers anymore, not enough willing to stay after the last attack. So instead of hiring more bodies, I invested everything meant for them into these. I figured if the bridge depends on two men holding the world up, they should at least have the strength to do it.”
Ludger frowned, arms crossed. “You’re giving us such rare artifacts. For free.”
Lucius smiled faintly. “They’re not borrowed. They’re gifts. I trust you’ll put them to better use than any noble collector ever could.”
The gloves’ light reflected faintly in Ludger’s eyes. “Why us?”
“Because you’re the only ones still building while the rest of the coast panics,” Lucius said simply. “And because if this bridge stands, the Empire won’t be able to claim it was their work.”
Gaius picked up one of the gloves, turning it in his hands. “These are master-crafted. I’ve seen their kind once before—Velis League workmanship, no doubt.”
Ludger accepted the amulet, feeling the pulse of its mana sync with his core almost immediately. A faint surge of warmth spread through his chest, steady and deep, as if his mana was breathing cleaner air for the first time.
He exhaled slowly. “Feels pretty good. Still, receiving a gift from a guy is a bit..,”
“Ludger…” Elaine coldly said.
Lucius smiled. “Then they’ve chosen their owner.”
The group stayed silent for a moment, the crackle of the campfire the only sound. Viola was watching, her expression torn between awe and pride. Arslan gave a slow nod of approval, while Elaine simply smiled softly, her gaze flicking between Lucius and her son.
Lucius stepped back toward his carriage. “I’ll leave you to it. The Empire may send their guilds, but I trust in what’s already here. Keep the bridge alive. I’ll handle the politics.”
Ludger closed his fist around the amulet, its glow reflecting faintly across his scarf. “We will.”
Lucius smiled faintly. “I know.”
He turned and left with Rathen, the sound of hooves fading into the night.
When silence settled again, Gaius glanced at Ludger with a half-smile. “Well, you heard the man. Time to make sure these gifts don’t go to waste.”
Ludger nodded, the faint blue light still pulsing against his chest. “Then tomorrow, we push twice as fast.”
Gaius chuckled. “Good. Because now you’ve got no excuse to slow down.”
Ludger smirked. “Wasn’t planning to.”
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