novelraw Chapter 488
Chapter 488
Ludger finally spoke, without looking away from the streets ahead.
“I’ll ask for your help if I find something tied to his scent,” he said. “You don’t know Lucius. Without a lead like that, it would just be wasted effort.”
Harkun considered it for a moment, then inclined his head slightly. Ragan exhaled through his nose, and Sivra folded her wings closer to her body.
“That makes sense,” Harkun said. “Without familiarity, we’d just be guessing.”
“There’s also this,” Ludger added calmly. “You didn’t come here for him. Not really.”
They didn’t deny it.
The beastmen had their own priorities, children taken, networks to dismantle, people to pressure until they broke. Lucius mattered, but he wasn’t the core of their mission.
“And,” Ludger continued, “beastmen walking around port towns asking questions would stand out more than this.”
He gestured vaguely at the convoy.
A hundred and fifty teenagers in uniformed disorder, carriages full of gear, instructors shouting corrections, it was already strange. But it was the acceptable kind of strange. The kind people explained away as rich guild nonsense or overambitious training exercises.
Beastmen moving through docks and alleyways? That invited attention. Suspicion. Rumors.
The three of them nodded again. They knew that already.
Even now, the logistics of so many young people moving together were odd enough to draw looks. Adding beastmen into the mix would tip curiosity into scrutiny.
“Then we wait,” Sivra said quietly.
“For now,” Ludger agreed.
He refocused on the ground beneath the streets, on the rhythm of movement and absence, letting his senses stretch wider.
Once they reached the port town, the same one where Ludger and Gaius had once built the bridge that connected the mainland to the archipelago, things moved fast.
Too fast for subtlety.
Ludger didn’t waste time with long explanations or careful requests. As soon as the convoy rolled to a stop near the beach, he turned to Viola.
“Go talk to Rathen,” he said. “Find out everything he knows. Don’t just ask about Lucius, ask what’s changed since we left.”
Viola nodded and moved immediately, already adjusting her posture into something more appropriate for dealing with officials and old allies.
The moment she was gone, Ludger turned away from the docks and placed his hand on the ground.
Mana surged. Earth answered.
The ground shuddered as stone rose in layered slabs, foundations forming themselves with brutal efficiency. Walls followed, thick, reinforced, interlocked in a way that would have taken masons months to replicate. Floors stacked upward, supported by internal pillars that grew as naturally as roots.
Rooms. Wide halls. Storage areas. Ventilation shafts. Not elegant, but functional.
Before long, a massive structure stood where there had been open ground, a building large enough to house everyone comfortably, with space to spare. Solid. Defensible. Temporary in purpose, but permanent in presence.
The kids stared. Some whispered. Others laughed nervously. A few just sat down, overwhelmed by the casual display of power. Ludger didn’t care.
There was no way he was asking a port town to house over a hundred and fifty youths. Not without weeks of negotiation, resentment, and complications. Shelter was a logistical necessity, and one he could solve himself.
Unfortunately, earth rising out of nowhere had a tendency to attract attention.
Viola hadn’t even made it far when the first guards appeared, drawn by the tremors, the noise, and the sudden appearance of a building that definitely hadn’t been approved by anyone.
Ludger spotted them immediately. He glanced toward Viola, who was still within sight.
“Handle that too,” he said calmly.
Viola stopped, turned slowly, and stared at the towering structure behind him.
“…You really don’t do things halfway, do you?”
“No,” Ludger replied. “I don’t have time for halfway.”
She sighed, already turning toward the approaching guards.
Behind her, the recruits and trainees began filing into the newly formed shelter, murmuring in awe and disbelief.
Ludger turned back to the group once the building settled and the last vibrations faded.
“Unpack,” he said, voice carrying easily across the area without needing to be raised. “Remain here.”
The murmurs died down almost instantly.
“This is temporary,” Ludger continued. “Training starts tomorrow at sunrise. Same as usual.”
A few groans slipped out before the recruits caught themselves. Some trainees exchanged looks that mixed excitement with dread. A long journey followed immediately by training wasn’t what they’d hoped for—but none of them argued.
“Food rotations will be posted,” Ludger added. “Equipment checks tonight. No wandering into the town without permission.”
He glanced over the group once more, gaze sharp but calm.
“You’re here to learn,” he finished. “Not to cause trouble.”
That settled it. The kids began unloading supplies, hauling packs inside, voices rising again, but quieter now, contained. Routine asserted itself, smoothing over the shock of sudden arrival.
Ludger watched for a moment to make sure order held, then turned his attention back toward the port. Tomorrow, training would resume. Tonight, he had other problems to solve.
Ludger walked to the edge of the shore once the kids had settled in, boots sinking slightly into damp sand.
He raised one hand toward the ocean.
Mana flowed, not violently, but decisively. Water answered his call, bulging upward as if the sea itself were inhaling. A massive bubble of water tore free from the surface, suspended in the air for a heartbeat before Ludger guided it inland.
Inside it, fish thrashed in panic.
With a sharp motion, he dropped it.
The bubble collapsed, water and fish spilling across the shore in a chaotic cascade. Shouts went up immediately, surprise, excitement, disbelief. Ludger didn’t wait for it to settle. He repeated the motion again. And again.
By the fourth pull, there was more than enough. Dinner was secured.
What followed was messy, loud, and oddly efficient. Groups formed naturally, some cleaning fish, others setting up campfires, a few arguing about the best way to cook them before being shouted down by someone who actually knew. Smoke rose into the evening sky as sizzling filled the air, exhaustion giving way to something closer to celebration.
For kids who’d never seen the ocean before, this alone would have been unforgettable. Ludger let it run its course. Once food was distributed and the fires burned down to manageable embers, he turned away from the crowd and called out five names.
“Renn. Marie. Bramm. Jorin. Tali.”
They straightened immediately and moved toward him.
This was his second group of recruits, the ones he’d trained after Lionsguard already existed. But they were also the first group he’d trained from nothing. No habits to break. No baggage. Just raw effort shaped carefully over time.
During the journey, they’d worked harder than anyone else, keeping order, organizing rotations, stepping in before problems escalated. And Ludger had noticed something else too.
They kept glancing at Viola. Not foolishly. Not openly. But with intent.
They were still aiming for it. Becoming her guards since they were her fans still. Proving themselves worthy of standing at her side. Ludger didn’t comment on that.
Instead, he said, “You’re in charge while I’m gone.”
Five pairs of eyes locked onto him.
“Keep things running. Keep discipline. Handle small problems before they grow.”
He looked at them one by one. “I’ll deal with issues around the area.”
They nodded, expressions serious, shoulders squared. No hesitation. No excitement.
Just responsibility accepted. Ludger turned and walked away without another word, leaving the camp in their hands. Behind him, the fires crackled, the sea murmured, and Lionsguard settled into the rhythm of a temporary home, unaware that before the night was over, the town itself was about to feel his presence.
Once Ludger disappeared into the darkness beyond the campfires, he stopped pretending this was just another walk.
Mana ignited.
Wind Overdrive surged through him, not as a burst, but as a controlled, silent acceleration. The air bent around his body instead of resisting it, lifting weight from his steps until he barely touched the ground.
He adjusted the flow deliberately.
Wind curled low and tight, sweeping backward in controlled spirals that erased any trace of scent before it could linger. Every footprint was softened, scattered, or simply never formed at all. Even the rhythm of his movement vanished, no consistent cadence for ears to catch, no vibration for the ground to remember.
To anything mundane, he was gone. Before reaching the outer lights of the port town, Ludger shifted again.
His assassin skills slid into place, presence folding inward until even mana-sensitive wards would register him as background noise. Sight lines were mapped instinctively. Reflections in windows. Shadows cast by lanterns. Angles where someone could be watching.
Not paranoia. Caution.
He moved along rooftops, then alleys, then briefly along the edge of a canal, never following a straight line longer than necessary. His senses stretched outward, not aggressively, but attentively, searching for the subtle signs of surveillance. Someone lingering too long. Footsteps that matched pace without reason. Breathing where no one should be standing.
His focus sharpened further as he neared the areas Viola passed through.
He didn’t doubt her strength. But strength didn’t matter against preparation.
Ludger swept the surroundings methodically, checking vantage points before she ever entered them, confirming exits before anyone else thought to block them. Anyone suspicious enough to warrant attention was logged mentally, not confronted, not yet.
Tonight wasn’t about noise. It was about certainty.
Only when he was satisfied, when every route was clean, every shadow accounted for, did Ludger allow himself to move deeper into the port town, eyes cold, wind still carrying him like a ghost through the night.
If someone was watching Viola… They wouldn’t get a second chance to do it unnoticed.
It didn’t take long for Ludger to find Viola.
Her presence stood out clearly inside the Ironhand guildhall, controlled, focused, familiar. Rathen’s was there too, buried deep under layers of exhaustion and constant motion. If he hadn’t appeared yet, then he really was drowning in work.
That was fine. Ludger had no intention of walking through the front door anyway.
He curved around the building instead, scaling the back wall without a sound and dropping lightly into the narrow service alley behind it. The wind carried him down, set him on the stone like a shadow finding its place.
He straightened… And instantly leaned back.
Steel flashed where his throat had been a heartbeat earlier.
The figure moved like a reflex given flesh, blade slicing through empty air with lethal precision before Ludger even finished landing. He twisted with the motion, letting the wind carry him half a step sideways as the attack missed by a breath.
“Now that,” Ludger said calmly, “was one hell of a welcome.”
The attacker froze. She turned fully this time, blade still raised, eyes sharp and alert. Moonlight caught the edge of her weapon and the pale strands of hair pulled back tightly from her face.
“Luna,” Ludger added, mildly amused.
Viola’s maid. Her best friend. Her bodyguard. And, when needed, Her assassin.
Luna’s eyes narrowed for half a second… then widened just slightly.
“…You,” she said flatly.
She lowered the blade an inch, not relaxing, not apologizing, but acknowledging identity.
“You erased your presence,” Luna added. “Even your scent.”
“I tried to be polite,” Ludger replied. “Apparently I overshot.”
She snorted quietly, sheathing the blade with smooth efficiency.
“If you’d been half a second slower,” she said, “Viola would’ve lost a problem tonight.”
Ludger shrugged. “And if you’d been half a second faster, I’d have lost a throat. Seems we’re both doing our jobs. What do you mean problem, by the way?”
Luna studied him for a moment longer, then angled her head toward the building.
“She’s inside,” she said. “With Rathen.”
“I know. Now, tell me everything you know.”
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