David S.R
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Chapter 173 (Thank you for your support, Payton Ramirez!)
🕑 Added 2025-10-20 17:00:27 +0000 UTCThey broke camp before the sun had properly climbed the ridge, the air thin and bright. Maurien rode with them now, cloak pulled up against the wind. The road narrowed as it wriggled eastward, trees thinning to rocky scrub and the first real scars of mountain coming into view. He moved like he was floating since he didn’t want to ride anyone’s horses. That was a neat trick.
Ludger rode ahead by habit, Seismic Sense pinging the ground every few breaths. Now and then the earth spoke—a faint scuff where a rabbit shifted, the hollow thump of a distant boar—so he would pull the reins, slide down, and fetch a quick meal. The motions were small and easy: a thrum through his fingers, a gentle shove of packed dirt, a surprise burst of ground that startled the quarry into the open. The recruits watched with the half-wonder, half-annoyed admiration of people who still found source-of-food magic impressive and mildly inconvenient.
“Planning to clear the whole valley of hares?” Maurien asked once, amusement cracking the gravel in his voice as Ludger came up with a damp bundle of fur in one hand.
Ludger didn't bother looking up from gutting the rabbit. “We brought half the stomach of the north with us,” he said flatly. “Freyra’s been eating like we’re marching to a feast instead of a fight. Better to keep them fed than watch her chew through our rations.”
Freyra, who was already three strides ahead, turned and shot him a grin that was part pride, part challenge. “I keep morale high,” she said. “You should try it sometime.”
Maurien let out a rare, genuine smile—small, like an ember. “If you’re already this good with earth magic,” he said, voice low enough to keep the line of riders from hearing the compliment as anything other than a remark, “then this mission might be easier than I feared.”
Ludger met the older mage’s eyes and gave a single, wry shrug. “Easier doesn’t mean safe,” he said. “But we’ll eat well on the way in.” He paused, feeling the soil under his boots, the faint threads of mana shifting in the rock.
Maurien chuckled, the sound almost soft against the wind. “Tactical provisioning. Of course.”
They moved on, the cart’s wheels and horses’ hooves keeping time with the rising sun. Ludger rode with one hand on the reins and his senses feeling the ground, catching little signs of life and nudging the day’s food into being. Behind him, the recruits spoke quiet, practical talk: route checks, armor tweaks, the odd complaint about sore hands. Freyra hummed as she moved, already planning what to claim for the midday stew.
For all the tightening in Ludger’s chest about what lay ahead, the small domestic competence of catching dinner and keeping everyone fed felt like its own kind of readiness. Food kept spirits steady, and steady people were easier to command than panicked ones. That, he thought, and the way Maurien had glanced at him—just a touch of confidence—was as much of an advantage as any blade.
As the trail began to rise into the first ribs of the mountains, the group fell into smaller clusters. Freyra rode alongside the cart, humming as usual; Rhea and Derrin led the horses; and the two mages, Callen and Taron, gradually edged their mounts closer to Maurien.
They tried to look casual at first—Callen pretending to check his reins, Taron making a show of adjusting his pack—but it didn’t take long before their curiosity betrayed them. They’d both grown up on the stories: the Lone Terror, the mage who burned down entire bandit companies in a single night. To them, Maurien was a living legend riding a few paces away.
Maurien noticed, of course. After a while, he glanced sideways and said dryly, “You two planning to tail me the whole way, or are you going to ask what’s on your minds?”
Taron coughed, flustered. “We, uh, just wanted to ask… sir, why you called for Vice Guildmaster Ludger specifically? I mean—” he glanced forward at the boy riding ahead, “—you’ve probably got better options in the capital, right?”
Maurien’s mouth twitched into a faint smile. “Better known options, maybe.”
He considered the question for a moment before answering. “You’ve heard how those bandits operate—they use wards and masking spells that blind tracking magic, block heat signatures, even scramble scent trails. I can’t rely on normal detection arrays anymore.”
Callen frowned. “So… how does that connect to the Captain?”
Maurien gestured toward the ground beneath them. “They can trick light and sound, they can fly or vanish into mist—but they can’t not step somewhere. No matter what trick they use, they still touch the ground.”
Understanding dawned across both young mages’ faces.
“That’s where Ludger comes in,” Maurien continued. “His earth sense can pick up vibrations, weight, pressure—things even mana doesn’t always show. If I can’t find them from above, he’ll find them from below. Together, we close every escape path.”
He looked toward Ludger’s back, the boy’s scarf fluttering faintly in the wind as his horse trudged along. “That’s what I meant when I said this job would be easier. Having someone like him means I can stop wasting time chasing ghosts. We’ll catch what’s real.”
Taron grinned, clearly impressed. “Guess that explains why you came yourself instead of waiting for us.”
Maurien chuckled softly. “When you find someone who can plug your blind spots, you don’t sit around hoping they’ll show up on their own.”
The two mages nodded, exchanging a look of newfound respect as they fell back into step. Ahead, Ludger didn’t turn around, but there was the faintest shift in his shoulders—like he’d caught every word through the earth itself, and was quietly filing it away.
By noon, the group stopped at a shallow ridge overlooking a narrow valley. The air smelled of pine and sun-warmed stone, and the recruits busied themselves unpacking rations, feeding the horses, and setting up a small cookfire. The lull felt almost peaceful after the long, cautious morning.
Maurien, however, didn’t look like a man content to rest. He stood apart, one gloved hand resting on his staff as his eyes scanned the distant peaks. Then he turned toward Ludger.
“Walk with me a moment,” he said quietly.
Ludger followed without comment. When they were far enough from the others, Maurien raised a hand and traced a small sigil in the air. The sound around them folded in on itself, the chatter of the recruits and the clatter of pots fading into a muffled hum.
A sound ward.
Maurien faced him fully. “You’ve been thinking,” he said. “Tell me what you’ve come up with.”
Ludger nodded, gaze flicking toward the valley below. “I have a few ideas. We don’t know what these bandits are moving for certain—or who they’re working for—so we start with what’s missing.”
Maurien’s brow lifted slightly.
“We’ll walk through some of the nearby villages,” Ludger continued. “Ask quiet questions. See what’s been stolen lately—goods, livestock, people. Cross-reference stories, rumors, patterns. While we do that, I’ll train the recruits to handle small-scale inquiry—how to blend in, what to look for, what not to say. Once they’re capable enough to move on their own, we can split off from them.”
Maurien considered that, his expression unreadable. “Hm. Good idea. Divide and cover more territory. But…” He glanced back toward the camp. “You realize what that looks like from the outside, don’t you?”
Ludger frowned. “Rumors?”
“Yes,” Maurien said. “You and I walking through villages, questioning locals about missing people in broad daylight—it’ll get noticed. And when people notice, they talk. Once that starts, it won’t take long before someone connects it back to you. The Lionsguard’s name will come up, and then our enemies will have the perfect excuse to start whispering.”
He folded his arms, voice low and steady. “If they’re already running this trafficking network through noble channels, they’ll use every opportunity to slander your guild. Make it look like the Lionsguard’s involved, or worse, profiting from the trade.”
Ludger was silent for a moment, the wind tugging at the edge of his scarf. “You’re not wrong,” he said finally. “If we do this, we’ll be walking into their crosshairs.”
Maurien gave a thin smile. “So the question is—are you ready for that? Ready to have your guild’s name dragged through the mud, even temporarily?”
Ludger’s answer came slow but steady. “If it’s what’s needed to finish this cleanly, I’ll take the hit. The guild’s reputation can be rebuilt. The people those bastards took can’t.”
Maurien studied him for a long moment, then nodded once. “Good. Then we’ll move as planned. Just make sure your recruits are ready before they start asking the wrong person the right question.”
The ward dissipated with a faint shimmer, the sounds of the camp returning—the crackle of fire, Freyra laughing at something Rhea said, the scrape of Callen’s spoon against the pot.
Ludger glanced toward them. “They’ll manage.”
Then, as if the talk had been nothing more than a brief break, he turned and walked back toward the camp, already thinking through what kind of questions he’d have to teach them to ask—and which ones they’d have to pretend not to know.
Once they returned to camp, the smell of cooked meat and herbs had already filled the air. Rhea had managed to turn Ludger’s earlier rabbits hunt into a proper stew, and even Maurien seemed to relax a little as the group sat down to eat. For a short while, the mood felt almost normal—laughing, tired warriors and young mages passing around bowls as the sun hung warm above the ridge.
But as soon as everyone finished, Ludger stood, brushing the dust from his coat. His tone shifted instantly back to business.
“All right,” he said, eyes moving across the recruits. “Here’s the plan.”
The chatter died quickly.
“While Maurien continues searching deeper in the mountains,” Ludger continued, “the rest of us are going to focus on the villages along the foothills. We’ll move in pairs, talk to the locals, and gather information about anything unusual—missing people, stolen goods, new merchants who arrived without reason. Anything that doesn’t fit.”
Taron frowned. “So, we’re doing investigation work now?”
Ludger gave a small nod. “Exactly. Bandits this organized leave traces. The trick is finding the right ones before they vanish again.”
Freyra leaned back on her hands, brow furrowing. “But why split up? Wouldn’t it be smarter if everyone just stuck together? If trouble shows up, we’d have more strength that way.”
Ludger turned toward her. “Because Maurien isn’t part of the guild yet. If we move together, it looks like we’re working under a single banner. And that’s a problem.”
She crossed her arms. “Problem how?”
He crouched beside the fire, picking up a small stick and drawing a quick diagram in the dirt—mountains, a few dots for villages, a winding road. “If people in these villages start talking—and they will—then rumors will spread about the Lionsguard investigating disappearances in Imperial territory. That gives our enemies leverage to accuse the guild of interference or worse.” He drew a small circle around the mountains. “If Maurien works separately, it gives us a layer of separation. He’s a mage operating on his own investigation; we’re just travelers asking questions. We are doing guild business, but only us know the details.”
Callen blinked. “So we’re basically pretending we don’t know him?”
Ludger nodded. “Pretty much. For now, that’s safer for everyone. Especially since we don’t know how deep this thing goes. There could be people in the villages feeding information to the bandits, or even nobles pulling strings behind the scenes. The less anyone connects us to Maurien, the harder it’ll be for those leaks to spread.”
Freyra frowned for a moment longer, then gave a reluctant nod. “Fine. But if something happens, I am not going to stand and watch, even more so if someone tries to pick a fight with me..”
Ludger’s expression softened just slightly. “If something happens to you, we won’t need to pretend anything. We’ll move. Until then, discipline first.”
Maurien, who had been leaning quietly against a rock through the whole exchange, smirked faintly. “You’re getting good at this command thing.”
Ludger shrugged. “Trying to save myself the headache later.”
The older mage chuckled. “Fair enough. I’ll keep to the high paths and watch for movement from above. If I spot anything, I’ll send a message somehow.
“Got it,” Ludger said.
The group began to pack up again, the recruits exchanging uneasy but determined looks. Freyra muttered something about “stupid secrets” under her breath but still helped secure the saddles.
Ludger checked the map one last time, tracing the route with a gloved finger. Villages, roads, trade lines. There were too many directions this could go wrong—but at least now, they were moving with purpose.
Splitting up wasn’t ideal. But better rumors and whispers than open war with the wrong people.
When the next village finally appeared in the distance, it looked quiet and unassuming—just a cluster of stone houses around a worn central well, smoke curling lazily from chimneys, fields of pale barley swaying in the breeze. The kind of place that shouldn’t have had any connection to traffickers or mercenaries at all, in theory
Maurien slowed his horse beside Ludger, scanning the settlement from a distance. After a long look, he gave a short nod. “That’s your stop. I’ll circle east and move through the ridge line. If they have watchers, they’ll be looking for me, not for you.”
Maurien gave a faint smirk. “Try not to terrify the locals. They spook easy when soldiers start asking questions.”
“We are not soldier, but… Noted,” Ludger said.
Then the older mage turned his horse and rode off, his cloak vanishing behind a hill of dark stone.
Ludger exhaled slowly and turned his eyes back to the village. The wind carried faint sounds—chickens, a hammer, laughter—but nothing that sounded off. Still, something about the stillness of it all tugged at his instincts.
He glanced at his group. The recruits straightened immediately under his look. They’d grown more disciplined these past weeks, though the youngest still looked eager more than cautious.
Would anyone take a group of kids seriously? Ludger wondered. They didn’t exactly scream “investigators.” Then again, if they looked harmless, maybe that would work to their advantage.
He already knew what to do.
Comments
dkpfrog
Tftc!
