Monk Lv. 37 [+5 Strength, + 5 Vitality, + 5 Dexterity, + 5 Endurance.]
Skills: Vitality Well Lv 42
Iron Skin - Lv 23: Decreases physical damage by three points per level.
Flowing Step - Lv 15: Increases footwork efficiency, balance, and short-range burst movement. Each level improves dodging precision and repositioning speed.
Impact Fist - Lv 14: Increases blunt damage dealt with punches, palms, elbows, and other unarmed strikes. Bonus damage rises further when striking joints, the chest, or the head.
Breath Control - Lv 36: Improves stamina recovery, pain tolerance, and control over breathing during combat. Helps maintain focus under pressure and reduces performance loss from fatigue.
Tempered Bones - Lv 13: Strengthens bones and joints through repeated combat and body refinement. Increases resistance to fractures, shock damage, and strain caused by powerful impacts.
Counter Force - Lv 04: Improves the timing and power of counters after a successful dodge, parry, or block. Bonus scales with the opponent’s momentum.
Inner Circuit - Lv 22: Enhances the circulation of vitality through the body, slightly improving physical reinforcement, recovery, and the efficiency of body-based techniques.
After smashing apart another pair of stone revenants in the third section, Ludger finally stepped back for a moment and pulled up his status.
His eyes moved over the familiar lines with calm efficiency. Monk had risen quickly. That part was expected.
He had been using the class the way it was meant to be used, directly, aggressively, without hesitation. No half-measures. No relying on magic just because it was easier. Every strike, every dodge, every impact taken and returned had been fed through the class exactly the way a proper training session should be.
That made the skills level fast. Very fast. Especially the body-focused ones.
His footwork had sharpened. His counters were becoming cleaner. His control over his breathing and stamina flow had improved in real combat rather than in some safe sparring field back home. Even the way his body absorbed repeated shock was getting more efficient.
Unfortunately, maximizing experience by refusing to use mana came with costs. Ludger could feel them now. Not enough to slow him down badly. Not yet. But the signs were there.
His arms felt heavier than before. His shoulders had developed a faint tightness. His breathing was still controlled, but not as effortless as it had been a few hours ago. The endless rhythm of smashing apart stone bodies with his own limbs was beginning to tax even him. The revenants in the third section were harder, heavier, and far more disciplined than the things above. Fighting them barehanded was excellent training.
It was also annoying. He let the status fade and rolled one shoulder. It should be close to midnight already. The labyrinth had that dead, timeless feeling that made hours blur together, but after this much fighting, he could judge it well enough. They had been going for a long time.
And somehow, Elira was still there behind him. Still watching. Still following. It had also been a while since she had said anything. That, more than anything else, was what finally made Ludger glance back.
Elira stood a short distance away on a thin layer of frost beneath her boots, glasses catching the dim light reflected from the icy constructs she occasionally made to illuminate dark stretches of the buried city. Her expression was quieter than usual. Focused. Watching him work through the section without constantly interrupting.
Ludger stared at her for a second. Then he looked forward again.
“Some weird rumors are going to start spreading about me after this.”
The silence behind him lasted only a moment. Elira snorted lightly.
“That must be hard.”
Ludger raised an eyebrow without turning.
“To have a father who was a former womanizer,” she continued in an oddly thoughtful tone, “while also trying to lead a guild. You probably have to worry about that sort of thing all the time.”
Ludger slowed just enough to glance at her. Her face was serious. Too serious. Which meant she was either joking badly or being sincere in a way that was somehow even more troublesome.
“That would be pretty considerate of you,” Ludger said flatly, “if you weren’t around and weren’t the other half of the reason for the possible rumors.”
Elira blinked. Then her cheeks turned a faint shade pink.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know,” Ludger said.
Which, somehow, only made her look more embarrassed. For a few steps, only the sound of boots, frost, and distant stone scraping through the dark filled the ruined avenue. Then Elira cleared her throat.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“Well,” she muttered, “I’m not the one who ran ahead alone through two sections of a labyrinth in the middle of the night while a guildmaster’s daughter followed him around.”
Ludger’s expression did not change.
“Yes,” he said. “That would be why I said both halves of the reason.”
Elira made a small sound somewhere between annoyance and reluctant surrender.
“That still sounds unfair.”
“It’s not unfair. It’s accurate.”
That got a sharper look from her, though it lacked real heat. If anything, she seemed more annoyed that he had said it so calmly than by the actual content. Ludger ignored her expression and kept moving.
The third section stretched ahead of them in broken streets and collapsed plazas, all of it half-swallowed by stone and darkness. Massive ruined structures leaned over the road like old judges waiting for someone to fail in front of them. Farther ahead, several tall revenants were beginning to stir near the remains of a shattered monument, their weapons scraping against rock as they turned toward the living.
Ludger flexed his fingers once. His hands were sore. Not damaged. Not badly. The bracers and his own body were enough to prevent that.
Still sore. Good. That meant the training was working. Behind him, Elira spoke again, quieter this time.
“Do rumors like that happen often?”
Ludger considered the question for half a second.
“Often enough.”
“Because of your father?”
“Because people are bored,” Ludger said. “And because once someone becomes visible, others start inventing nonsense to make them easier to talk about.”
Elira was quiet at that.
Then she said, “That sounds exhausting.”
“It is.”
That, at least, was honest.
The stronger Lionsguard became, the more people watched. The more they watched, the more they talked. If he breathed too hard in the wrong direction, someone would probably decide it meant he was planning to overthrow a duke, steal three labyrinths, and seduce half the nobility on the way there.
Ridiculous. He had no interest in most people and even less interest in wasting time proving it. Another group of revenants advanced from the shadows ahead, larger than the last, their fused armor etched with worn patterns that looked almost ceremonial.
Ludger exhaled slowly and lowered his stance.
“If weird stories do start,” he said, “try not to encourage them.”
Elira’s voice came from behind him, carrying a hint of her usual energy again.
“I’ll think about it.”
Ludger’s eyes stayed on the approaching monsters. Then the first revenant reached him, and conversation ended.
Ludger stepped in before it could complete its swing, drove a brutal short punch into its abdomen, and felt the stone body dent inward under the impact. Before the thing could recover, he twisted, slammed an elbow into its jawline, and shattered the side of its head in an explosion of rock fragments.
Another came from the right. An ice dart pierced its eye a heartbeat later. Elira, apparently, had decided to resume being useful. That was better than talking. Ludger clicked his tongue once and let the matter go.
In the end, he decided to bite the bullet and endure the possibility of rumors. It was annoying. Unnecessary. Stupid. But as long as it saved time, it was worth the hassle. That was what mattered.
Time was of the essence, and wasting it just to avoid a few people running their mouths would be even more idiotic than the rumors themselves. If others wanted to chatter because he had spent half the night deep inside another guild’s labyrinth with the guildmaster’s daughter trailing after him, then they could enjoy themselves. He had more important things to do than manage the imagination of bored people.
His focus shifted back to the real problem.
This labyrinth. More specifically, how to make use of it properly.
The mana-enriched silver alone justified serious attention. Not as a side resource. Not as some minor bonus gathered whenever someone happened to make it deep enough. No, the deeper Ludger went, the clearer it became that this place could become a major supply source if handled correctly.
That meant planning. Real planning.
He would need to think about how to organize a team, or several teams, from Lionsguard to come here and stay long enough to farm as much silver as possible without bleeding resources dry in the process.
That would not be simple.
The labyrinth was too far from Lionfang for casual runs, and the deeper sections were punishing enough that sending random members would be a waste of bodies, gear, and potions. Any long-term operation here would need layers.
A forward camp, most likely.
Not inside the labyrinth itself. That would be idiotic unless they established total security first. But somewhere near the town, maybe reinforced through earth shaping and defensive formations if Maris agreed to joint use. Rotation schedules. Repair supplies. Weapon stockpiles. A dedicated logistics route. Teams split by role rather than just raw strength.
Maybe crafters close enough to assess ring quality and reduce waste before shipments even left. If they did it right, they could turn this place from a difficult local burden into a sustained silver artery feeding Lionsguard’s rune-work, alchemy, relic design, and future expansion.
If they did it wrong, they would burn money and people for nothing.
Ludger’s gaze moved across the third section as he advanced, eyes taking in every broken avenue, half-collapsed structure, and cluster of revenants rising in the distance.
He needed information. Monster density. Patrol patterns. The pressure curve between sections. The likely limits of local guild teams. The practical route to the guardian chamber.
How much strain a normal weapon took per section. How much mana a support mage would need to sustain a proper run. Whether the silver drop rate justified multi-team deployment or only elite rotations.
And above all, whether the guardian could be cleared consistently enough to stabilize the place.
Because that was part of the plan too. Not just harvesting. Clearing the guardian.
If they wanted real access, reliable deeper runs, and long-term control over the resource flow, then the guardian had to be factored in from the beginning. Maybe not farmed immediately. Maybe not even monopolized right away. But understood. Evaluated. Broken down into something usable.
Which was why Ludger was here now. To learn as much as possible by himself before involving anyone else.
That way, when he made a proposal, whether to Maris, to Arslan, or to his own guild, it would not be based on guesswork and optimism. It would be based on what he had seen with his own eyes, what he had measured with his own body, and what he had judged under real pressure.
That was worth far more than secondhand reports.