David S.R
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Chapter 89 (Thank you for your support, Theyna!)
🕑 Added 2025-09-29 15:15:26 +0000 UTCViola slammed her palms on the table, glaring. “Grandfather wouldn’t send us here for nothing. Why would he pick someone like you?!”
That finally made the man pause. He lifted his head, bloodshot eyes squinting at her, and for the first time there was something sharper under the haze.
“Someone like me, huh?” His laugh was bitter, half a rasp. “Your old man knows exactly why he sent you here. Because I’m what happens when a guild burns down and the people in charge drown themselves to forget. I’m a failure, girl. That’s why.”
Viola faltered, her glare slipping into confusion.
Ludger leaned back, arms folded, watching quietly. So he knows exactly what he is. That doesn’t make him useless—it makes him dangerous. And maybe… valuable.
The man tore off a piece of bread, chewing without looking at them. “Eat. Sleep. In the morning, you walk out that door. Don’t waste your time on me.”
The bread was still warm in Ludger’s hands when he spoke, his tone flat but edged.
“If you knew what you are, then why didn’t you accept the call from Lord Torvares? The war, the rebuilding—you could’ve made more coin than you’d ever drink away. Even failures get paid if they’re useful.”
The man snorted, washing down a mouthful of bread with a swig from a waterskin. “Coin, coin, coin. That’s all you nobles ever see. Money to grease the gears, money to patch over mistakes.” He leaned back in his chair, eyes half-lidded but sharp beneath the bleariness.
“I don’t need a lot of money. I don’t want a banner over my head, or someone else’s orders breathing down my neck. I just want to live my life the way I please—carefree.”
Viola scowled, her fists clenching. “Carefree? You call this carefree? Rotting in a dump and drinking yourself half to death?”
The man shrugged lazily, as if her words bounced off. “Better than bleeding on some noble’s battlefield, or digging graves for strangers in a town I don’t care about.”
Ludger studied him, his expression unreadable. He’s not lying. He really doesn’t care about the coin or the cause. That makes him dangerous in a different way. A man who’s already thrown away pride and duty can’t be bribed or pressured. Which means if I want him to teach me anything… I’ll have to give him something else.
The man yawned again, long and slow. “You want ambition? Ask someone else. All you’ll get from me is honesty.”
Ludger leaned forward, resting his elbows on the battered table. “Fine. If you don’t care about coin, then tell me this—what happened to the guild? A hall this size doesn’t rot overnight. Something gutted it.”
The man’s jaw twitched. He clicked his tongue, a sharp tsk, and looked away. “You don’t need to know.”
Viola bristled. “We do need to know! How are we supposed to learn anything if—”
Ludger raised a hand, silencing her, his eyes never leaving the man. “If the collapse isn’t worth explaining, then what about your magic?” His tone was flat but edged with steel. “That wall you summoned before. It didn’t rise from the ground—it just appeared. That’s not normal earth magic.”
The man’s hand froze halfway to tearing another piece of bread. For a moment, silence hung heavy in the hall. Then he resumed eating, chewing noisily, ignoring the question completely.
Ludger’s eyes narrowed. So he knows it’s strange. But he won’t give it up for free.
“Not going to answer?” Ludger pressed.
The man gave no reply. He tore another bite, yawned, and leaned back as if he hadn’t heard a word. Viola growled, slamming her broom against the floor. “He’s useless!”
Ludger smirked faintly, though his mind was already ticking. Not useless. Just the kind of man who only moves if you corner him—or if you give him something he wants.
Ludger leaned back in his chair, studying the man’s slouched frame, the way he chewed with deliberate slowness while pretending not to hear.
Torvares already tried coin. Of course he did—money’s the first leash any noble throws. And this man spat it back in his face. So instead of forcing the issue, Grandfather sends us. Three children. A reminder of duty, maybe. Or bait. Or simply pawns to needle his pride until he starts moving again.
His lips pressed into a thin line. If that’s the plan, it’s sloppy. I’d rather have proper orders than this cloak-and-dagger nonsense. Torvares should’ve just said it outright: “Go there, break his walls down, make him useful again.”
The thought made Ludger’s jaw tighten. He didn’t like orders—hated them, even. His entire second life was meant to be lived free of leashes. But at least an order was clear. Direct. This kind of cryptic maneuvering, these half-truths and roundabout pushes, it was nothing but wasted time.
He sighed quietly, his smirk turning sharp. Annoying old man. If you want me to rebuild your pawn, you could’ve at least told me so. Instead, you throw me into the mud and expect me to figure it out myself.
Across the table, Viola fumed silently, tapping her fingers against her bread like she wanted to throw it at the drunk’s face. Luna, calm as ever, simply observed—her eyes narrowing as if she’d reached a similar conclusion.
Ludger’s gaze lingered on the drunk again. If Torvares wants you functional again… then one way or another, I’ll make you move.
By the time the moon hung high above the cracked rafters, the man was gone. No word, no sound—he’d simply wandered off into the night like smoke slipping through a gap.
The guildhall was quieter without his drunken snores, though not by much; the old boards groaned at every draft, and the faint smell of stale ale still clung to the walls.
Viola sat cross-legged near their packs, arms folded tight, her face locked in a permanent scowl. She stabbed at the firepit with a stick she’d found, muttering curses under her breath. “Unbelievable. Grandfather sends us here to learn, and we get that. He’s useless. Lazy. He’s not teaching us anything!”
Ludger rolled out his blanket and set it neatly against the far wall, his movements slow and unbothered. “Calm down.”
Viola whipped her head toward him. “Calm down?! We cleaned this dump, and he just—just left!”
Ludger smirked faintly, shaking his head. “Getting annoyed at every little thing won’t change him. You’ll just wear yourself out faster than sweeping did.” He met her glare, unflinching. “Save your fire for when it matters.”
She opened her mouth, ready to snap again—but then hesitated. The stick in her hands cracked under her grip, and she finally huffed, throwing it into the cold pit. “…I still hate him.”
“That’s fine,” Ludger said, lying back and folding his arms behind his head. “Just don’t let it make you stupid.”
Luna, already settled on her blanket near the doorway, glanced between them with her usual calm. “He’ll show his hand eventually. All we have to do is wait.”
Viola groaned, collapsing onto her side with a dramatic flop. “I hate waiting too.”
Ludger smirked faintly in the dark. Good. Hate it all you want. It means you’ll learn patience the hard way.
The guild creaked around them, empty and half-broken, but for now, it was theirs.
“We’re not just going to sit here waiting for him to sober up. Until he decides to cooperate, we’ll need to keep moving. First priority: information.”
He turned his gaze toward Luna. It wasn’t a command, not outright—but the way his eyes lingered on her carried the weight of expectation.
Luna met his look without flinching. “I understand.” She adjusted the edge of her blanket with practiced precision, then added, “I’ll see what I can do tomorrow morning.”
Ludger gave a single nod. That was enough. She’d find the right people, the right whispers. She always did.
Viola, meanwhile, rolled onto her back, her grin sharp in the dim light. “Well, if we’re making plans, then I want to explore the labyrinth here! That’s what adventurers are supposed to do, right? Fight monsters, find treasure, prove ourselves!”
Ludger’s expression flattened immediately. His frown carved deeper than usual.
“Absolutely not.”
Viola sat up, indignant. “Why not?! We’re in a mining city with a labyrinth right under it! We can’t just ignore it!”
“You can,” Ludger said bluntly. “Without anyone older to keep you in line, you’ll do exactly what you always want—charge in, reckless, and hope you don’t get killed. That’s not exploration. That’s suicide.”
Viola scowled, crossing her arms. “You’re such a killjoy. One day, I’ll show you I can handle it.”
“Maybe,” Ludger said, lying back again. “But not tomorrow.”
Luna’s quiet voice cut in, calm as ever. “He’s right. A labyrinth is no playground. If you step inside unprepared, you won’t walk out.”
Viola groaned, throwing herself back onto her blanket with all the grace of a sack of bricks. “Fine! But you can’t keep me out forever!”
Ludger smirked faintly, closing his eyes. Try me.
The hall creaked around them, the night settling in heavy and still.
Viola sat up again, defiance blazing in her eyes. “You can’t just forbid me forever! I’m not some porcelain doll. I want to fight in the labyrinth!”
Ludger turned his head, meeting her glare without a flicker of hesitation. “You’ll go when you prove you can keep your head cool. When you show you can be patient, not reckless. Until then, it’s out of the question.”
Viola’s jaw tightened. “That’s not fair!”
“Life isn’t fair,” Ludger said flatly. He pushed himself upright, his tone sharp as a knife. “You think I want to drag you back home covered in scars? You think I want to be the one explaining to your grandfather why his heir came back in pieces? No. You want the labyrinth? Fine. Earn it. Show me you can walk in and walk out without getting yourself killed for bragging rights.”
Viola’s fists clenched in her lap, her face twisting between shame and stubbornness.
Luna spoke softly, though her words cut clean. “He’s right, Lady Viola. A leader can’t throw herself into danger just because she wants to. Not without proof she can handle it.”
Viola groaned, collapsing back onto her blanket with a loud thump. “You’re both impossible.”
Ludger lay back down too, folding his arms behind his head, smirk tugging faintly at the corner of his mouth. Good. Let her stew. If she wants the labyrinth, she’ll have to sharpen herself first. Otherwise, she’ll never make it past the first floor.
The guildhall was quiet in the early hours, the broken windows bleeding pale sunlight across the dusty floor. Viola stirred awake, rubbing her eyes and stretching, only to hear the steady hum of mana from the far side of the hall.
Ludger sat cross-legged on the boards, his hands resting lightly on his knees. His breath was controlled, measured, the faint glow of his [Spiritual Core] pulsing steadily in his chest. Tiny threads of mana rippled around him, gathering, condensing, then sinking back into his body as though he were drinking from the air itself. A thin bead of sweat rolled down his temple, but his expression was calm, disciplined.
Viola watched for a moment, then yawned and shuffled over, dragging her blanket like a cape. “So… when’s breakfast?”
Ludger cracked one eye open, staring at her flatly. “Breakfast doesn’t just appear.”
Viola frowned. “Well, someone has to make it.”
“Exactly,” Ludger said, closing his eye again. “Go walk around. Find Luna. Or my mother. Either one will make sure you don’t starve.”
Viola pouted, crossing her arms. “That’s not fair. You should—” She froze mid-sentence, blinking. A realization hit her like a slap. “…Wait. Do we even have money for food?”
Ludger exhaled slowly through his nose, eyes still shut. “Finally caught up, huh?”
Her cheeks flushed. “I-I didn’t even think about that!”
“Obviously,” Ludger muttered, rubbing his forehead. She’s eleven years old, a noble’s heir, and the most important parts of her life—food, coin, safety—are all in someone else’s hands. If she doesn’t change that, she’ll never stand on her own two feet.
He sighed and got to his feet, brushing dust from his trousers. “Come on. We’ll find Luna and see what she dug up. Maybe she at least thought ahead.”
Viola groaned but trailed after him, muttering, “I was thinking ahead… just not about money.”
“Which means you weren’t thinking,” Ludger said dryly, pushing the door open.
The streets were already buzzing when they left the guildhall. Miners clomped toward the hills with picks over their shoulders, adventurers strapped on armor as they argued about contracts, and vendors hawked breakfast from carts—skewers of roasted meat, fried dough, mugs of steaming broth. The air was thick with the smell of oil, dust, and smoke.
Viola’s eyes widened as she drifted from stall to stall, gawking at sizzling pans and baskets of fresh bread. “Wow… look at all this! Can we just pick something? I’m starving.”
Ludger caught her by the sleeve before she could dart off. “Don’t wander around like a moron. People will take advantage of you.”
She turned, scowling. “I wasn’t wandering!”
“You were gawking,” Ludger corrected, his tone dry. “Big difference. Walk like you know what you’re looking for, even if you don’t. Keep your chin steady, don’t let your eyes linger too long. Otherwise, you might as well pin a sign to your chest that says "easy mark.”
Viola huffed, puffing her cheeks. “You make it sound like everyone’s out to rob me.”
“They are,” Ludger said bluntly. His gaze swept the crowd, sharp and calculating. “Hungry adventurers, crooked vendors, even kids running errands—they all look for weakness. A soft target. If you can see through what people are thinking, it’s easy enough to stay ahead.”
She tilted her head, frowning. “See through what people are thinking? How do you do that?”
Ludger smirked faintly, eyes flicking toward a nearby vendor who was loudly praising his “fresh bread.” The man’s loaf was half-burned on the bottom, his eyes constantly darting to the bigger bakery stall across the street.
“Watch their eyes, their hands, their posture. What they don’t say matters more than what they do.” He gave Viola a sidelong glance. “And don’t let your hunger think for you. That’s when you’ll get fleeced.”
Viola groaned. “Ugh, you make it sound so boring. Can’t I just eat?”
“You can,” Ludger said dryly. “Once you prove you’re not going to get scammed buying stale bread at twice the price.”
She grumbled under her breath, but straightened her back and tried to mimic his cool expression as they walked deeper into the market.
Ludger smirked faintly. At least she listens when she’s hungry.
[Dissection of Knowledge +10 XP ]
