“Oh?” Elaine said lightly. “It’s been a while since I heard about another woman you messed around with.”
Arslan closed his eyes for a second, as if maybe darkness would make the conversation go away. It did not. Elaine kept going, perfectly calm.
“And based on what you just said…” Her gaze sharpened. “The fact that you haven’t contacted her in the last ten years tells me everything I need to know about your usual method.”
Arslan did not reply. Elaine’s smile stayed exactly the same.
“You had your fun,” she said, “and then disappeared.”
That one landed cleanly.
Arslan opened his mouth, probably to attempt some form of defense, then thought better of it and shut it again. In the end, he couldn’t do much aside from sit there and suffer in silence like a man who had long since realized that speaking would only worsen the damage.
Ludger watched the exchange for a moment, then shrugged. That seemed fair. His father deserved at least that much from time to time. Being kept in his place every now and then was probably healthy.
Ludger left that matter in his father’s hands for the time being. Which, the more he thought about it, was probably a mistake. Not because Arslan was incompetent. Far from it.
But when it came to old contacts, his father’s life had clearly been… more colorful than strictly necessary. That tended to introduce variables Ludger had no interest in dealing with. Pride, resentment, awkward history, old misunderstandings, the occasional desire to throw things, none of that made negotiations cleaner.
He probably should have asked someone with a less troublesome personal history. Maurien would have been one of the best options.
The man was dangerous, experienced, and carried the kind of presence that made people take him seriously even before he opened his mouth. Gaius too, for different reasons. He was easier to approach, more natural in conversation, and good at getting people to lower their guard without realizing it. Either one of them might have opened doors without dragging old romance into the process.
Kaela and Renvar also came to mind.
They weren’t the first names he would usually pick for delicate expansion talks, but both had enough weight and enough reach to make introductions happen without risking unnecessary issues. More importantly, neither of them seemed likely to leave a trail of irritated women behind them. Perhaps Kaela did, but she was smart enough to avoid pissing guilds.
That alone had value.
Still, the decision had already been made. So Ludger waited. And while he waited, he worked.
He sat down with the next batch of swords and began engraving the runes one by one, his hands moving with steady precision as mana flowed through the metal in thin controlled streams.
Because the runes didn’t last more than a couple of months under regular use, that made the product even better from a business perspective. People would come back. Adventurers would need replacements. Merchants would reorder. Guards would ask for new stock before the old enchantments faded completely. It created a cycle of steady demand that was difficult to ignore.
That part pleased him. Recurring profit was always cleaner than one-time profit. Still, even as he worked, Ludger found part of his mind drifting elsewhere.
To the next product.
Runic swords were strong. Popular. Branded. Useful. But relying too heavily on a single flagship item had its own weaknesses. Markets changed. Rivals adapted. Demand could be copied, undercut, or diluted if he sat still for too long. The swords had bought Lionsguard influence, money, and attention.
Now he needed to decide what came after. Something with similar value. Something scalable. Something difficult to imitate.
His fingers kept moving across the blade in his hand while his thoughts turned. Armor was possible, but slower. Tools had merit, though they lacked the same impact. Consumables sold fast, but usually didn’t leave the same kind of mark.
He finished one rune, moved to the next, and narrowed his eyes slightly.
No.
The next product couldn’t just sell. It had to strengthen Lionsguard’s position the same way the swords had. Something that made people dependent. Something that spread his influence wider every time it was used.
That was the kind of product worth making. Ludger was in his office when someone knocked on the door. He didn’t look up from the sword in his hand.
“Enter.”
The door opened a moment later, and Eclaire stepped inside.
She stopped after only two steps, her eyes falling on the half-finished blade resting across Ludger’s desk. Fine lines of light ran through the metal where he had just carved another rune, mana still settling into the structure. Tools, spare blades, inked notes, and marked designs were spread around him in the kind of organized mess that only made sense to someone who had built the process himself.
Eclaire frowned.
Ludger noticed, though he kept engraving for another second before setting the blade down.
“Why are you here?” he asked. Then, after a brief pause, he added, “Did you come to give Viola more reasons to think I’m turning into my father?”
Eclaire’s expression flattened immediately.
“No,” she said dryly. “That would require a much more troubling lack of standards.”
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Ludger snorted once.
Eclaire stepped further into the room, folding her arms as she looked around. “I came to ask why you haven’t done anything in the last month regarding the Empire.”
Ludger looked at her.
“I did.”
Eclaire raised an eyebrow.
Ludger gestured vaguely with the engraving tool in his hand. “I bought several businesses near the capital. Improved them. Increased their returns. The money coming in is higher now.” His tone stayed calm and matter-of-fact. “My war funds are increasing.”
Eclaire stared at him for a second.
“That,” she said, “is not what I meant.”
Ludger leaned back slightly. “It counts.”
“You know what I meant,” she said. “I meant something more definitive.” Her eyes narrowed. “Like another sealed labyrinth. Another direct strike. Something that actually hurts them.”
Ludger let out a quiet sigh and finally looked at her properly.
“That won’t work right now,” he said.
Eclaire said nothing, so he continued.
“The last operation already forced movement on their side. We hit one of their hidden resource systems, took the dryad out, erased the site’s working structure, and left them with no clean way to explain what happened if they ever found the remains.” He tapped a finger lightly against the desk. “After something like that, the people behind it won’t stay relaxed. They’ll be on high alert.”
Eclaire remained still, listening. Ludger went on in the same even tone.
“If I move too fast and try the same thing again, I lose the advantage. Hidden sites will be watched more carefully. Guards will be rotated with more intent. Messages will move faster. Suspicious activity will be reported sooner. Anyone connected to Armandis or the Obsidian Sword will be more cautious for a while.” His eyes sharpened slightly. “A second invasion immediately after the first doesn’t make me bold. It makes me predictable. I want them wtching their feet all the time.”
That made her frown ease a little, though only slightly.
Ludger pointed at the map on his desk, where trade routes, businesses, and a few marked sites had been added in dark ink.
“So instead, I’m doing what actually makes sense. Expanding income. Strengthening our production. Increasing our reach. Making sure that when I move again, I move with more resources, better options, and fewer blind spots.”
Eclaire’s gaze shifted toward the map.
“And the other reason?” she asked.
Ludger’s expression stayed flat.
“I’m waiting for information from Torvares.”
That made her look back at him immediately.
“He’s checking what his spies can find,” Ludger said. “Other sites. Movements connected to Armandis. Possible leads on the dryads. Anything tied to the same structure.” He paused for a moment. “Until that comes in, doing something too large would be stupid.”
Eclaire was silent for a few seconds.
Then she said, “You sound annoyed by your own restraint.”
“I am.”
That answer came fast enough to make her almost smile. Ludger picked the sword up again, turning it slightly so the unfinished runes caught the light.
“I’d prefer to crush them directly,” he said. “But preference isn't a strategy.” His gaze remained on the blade. “Right now, hitting them blindly again would be less effective than making money, reinforcing our position, and waiting for better information.”
Eclaire studied him for a moment longer.
Then she let out a small breath through her nose. “I suppose that makes sense.”
Eclaire shook her head slightly, though the corner of her mouth moved faintly this time.
“So for now,” she said, “you’re building strength while waiting for the next opening.”
“Yes.”
“And if Torvares sends useful information?”
Ludger’s hand paused over the blade.
“Then,” he said, voice calm and cold at the same time, “I’ll do something more definitive.”
“Why are you so interested in this all of a sudden?” he asked. “Did you get hooked on clandestine work against the Empire?”
Eclaire immediately crossed her arms. Then she looked to the side instead of at him. That alone told Ludger the question had landed closer than she wanted. For a few seconds, she said nothing. When she finally spoke, her voice was quieter than before.
“It’s not that.”
Ludger waited.
Eclaire kept her gaze turned away as she continued. “I just…” She stopped, frowned slightly, then forced the words out in a cleaner way. “I know something is going on with the Empire.”
That much was obvious. But she kept going anyway.
“And now that I know, pretending I don’t would feel ridiculous.” Her fingers pressed lightly against her sleeve. “There’s clearly something rotten inside it. Too many hidden parts. Too many people moving in the dark. Too many things that don’t make sense unless someone powerful wants them that way.”
Her mouth tightened slightly.
“I don’t have political power,” she said. “I don’t have real influence either. Not enough to change anything directly.” She hesitated for a brief moment, then added, “But even so, I feel like I should do something.”
After she said that, Ludger didn’t answer immediately. He just watched her in silence. Calm. Unreadable.
The kind of silence that made most people start second-guessing what they had just admitted.
Ludger held her gaze for a moment longer before speaking.
“If I find something you can help with,” he said, “I’ll let you know.”
Eclaire looked back at him. His tone hadn’t changed. It was still calm, flat, almost annoyingly direct.
“For now,” Ludger continued, “focus on what you’ve been doing already. Keep watching. Keep learning. And be ready to move as soon as possible.”
That wasn’t quite what she wanted.
But it also wasn’t rejection.
Eclaire let out a quiet sigh through her nose, then gave a small nod.
“Understood.”
Even as she answered, she had no real idea whether Ludger would actually call for her when the time came. Whether he truly meant it, or whether this was just his way of setting her aside without saying it directly. With him, both were possible. He wasn’t the type to offer comforting lies, but he also wasn’t the type to explain every thought in his head just to make someone else feel secure.
Eclaire turned and left the office, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
The corridor outside was quieter than she expected. A few distant voices drifted through the building, along with the muted rhythm of work continuing somewhere deeper inside the guild hall. Normal sounds. Ordinary sounds.
And in the middle of all that, Ludger kept moving in his usual way. Eclaire slowed slightly as that thought settled in her head. For someone as strong as he was, Ludger was methodical to a fault. That was probably the strangest thing about him.
Most people with power like his eventually started thinking every problem could be solved by hitting it hard enough. Some did it openly. Others dressed it up in strategy, but the core was the same. They believed strength itself was the answer, and everything else was only there to clear the way for it.
Ludger wasn’t like that.
He had strength. Too much of it, honestly. Enough that most people his age shouldn’t even be spoken about in the same sentence as him. Enough that even grown fighters had started measuring themselves against a standard they couldn’t comfortably reach. And yet he never acted like brute force was the answer to every obstacle just because he could use it.