Chapter 276

For the last two days of the trip, the weather turned strange.

Everywhere the group went, rain followed. Not a storm, just a steady, cool drizzle that never seemed to let up. When they stopped to rest, the rain softened into mist; when they started moving again, the droplets picked up like a loyal pet chasing after them.

No one said it out loud, but everyone had the same suspicion.

Kaela occasionally glanced at Ludger with narrowed eyes, Kharnek grumbled about “southern curses,” and Darnell pulled his hood lower over his face while muttering something about mold setting into the wagon seats. Torvares didn’t comment, but the way his gaze occasionally flicked toward the boy told Ludger he’d noticed too.

Ludger, of course, said nothing. He just watched the falling rain through the window with that faint, unreadable smirk. It wasn’t like he could turn the weather off now that his Cumulonimbus skill was still syncing with his mana flow. The cloud simply

followed him.

Kaela sighed at one point. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

Ludger leaned his head against the glass, tone flat. “Can’t control the weather.”

Kharnek snorted. “Aye, but it sure seems to

like

you.”

Even Torvares almost smiled at that. Almost.

Still, no one pushed the issue further. They had bigger matters at hand. By the third morning, the rain finally broke into pale sunlight, and the Imperial Capital came into view.

From the hilltop road, the city stretched vast and gleaming, its layered walls and marble towers catching the light like polished stone. Trade caravans streamed through the outer gates, soldiers in white and gold patrols moved in disciplined lines, and the faint hum of mana engines echoed from somewhere deep within the heart of the metropolis.

The entire group fell silent, even Kharnek, as the scale of it settled in. Lord Torvares was the first to speak, his tone cutting through the hush.

“Listen well,” he said, his calm voice carrying the weight of experience. “The Velis League and the Empire have been at odds for generations, that hasn’t changed. But for this meeting, both sides will pretend otherwise.”

He turned slightly, his sharp gaze passing over each of them. “That means

we

will do the same. You will hear nonsense. You will hear polite lies dressed as diplomacy. And you will act as though it all makes perfect sense.”

Kharnek grunted. “So… we lie back?”

Torvares’s lips twitched. “We act

civilized.

Even if we’re surrounded by vipers.”

Kaela let out a soft whistle. “This sounds less like a negotiation and more like theater.”

“Politics always is,” Torvares said dryly. “Just remember your roles.”

He looked toward Ludger last. “You observe. Speak when needed, not before. The less they know about what we’ve built in Lionfang, the better.”

Ludger nodded once. “Understood.”

As the carriage rolled closer, the raincloud above them finally dispersed, the last drops fading as they crossed the outer bridge leading toward the capital gates.

Kaela exhaled softly, watching the glinting rooftops ahead. “Guess the storm’s over.”

Ludger’s eyes followed the city skyline. “No,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone. “It’s just starting.”

The capital felt strangely familiar to Ludger. He’d been here before, four years ago, back when the Empire hosted its twisted little spectacle for noble heirs: a glorified blood sport wrapped in ceremony and polite applause.

He remembered being smaller then, standing in the cold shadow of the arena walls, the air thick with incense, banners, and self-importance. His purpose hadn’t been to fight, technically he’d been “too young” for that, but rather to make sure that Viola didn’t come home with too many bruises. And even then, she had managed to swing a training sword like it had personally offended her.

Everything about that event had been a pain in the ass: the rules that changed, the nobles’ sons who treated it like a hunting trip, and the constant noise of cheering crowds pretending to admire “valor” while watching kids bash each other into the dirt.

The clearest thing he remembered, though, was Lord Torvares’s voice echoing from the stands.

“Do you see that? The next generation of House Torvares stands unbroken!”

He’d yelled it with enough pride to drown out the commentators, chest puffed out like a general leading a victory parade. Viola had been grinning through a split lip, and Ludger, half healer, half babysitter, had just rolled his eyes and patched her up between rounds. Now, as the carriage passed beneath the colossal gates and into the inner districts, the air was different.

The celebration was gone, no banners, no trumpets, no parades of gold-trimmed uniforms. The city moved at a steadier, quieter rhythm. Officials in gray robes walked briskly through marble courtyards, and soldiers stood like statues near the plaza fountains.

Even the sky felt subdued, the recent rain leaving the stone streets slick and reflective. It wasn’t oppressive, though. Just… calmer. Tense, perhaps, but not hostile. The capital was watching, not judging.

Ludger leaned back in his seat, eyes tracing the familiar architecture as they entered the diplomatic quarter. “Feels smaller than I remember,” he muttered.

Torvares smiled faintly beside him. “That’s because you’re taller, boy. And wiser.”

Ludger gave him a dry look. “I’ll take taller.”

The old man chuckled, and for the first time since the trip began, the mood in the carriage lightened. The Empire’s heart might still beat with politics and ambition, but at least for no, it wasn’t a cage. Not yet.

The carriage rolled through the marble streets until they reached the Torvares villa, a sprawling estate built into the upper district of the capital. Its architecture was distinct from the surrounding noble homes: fewer gold embellishments, more stone, functional yet refined. The gates opened the moment Lord Torvares’s seal was shown, and a handful of uniformed guards saluted as they passed through.

The moment the wheels stopped, the servants stationed there moved like clockwork. Crates, travel packs, and weapon cases were all unloaded and carried inside with practiced efficiency. Even the horses were led away for rest and grooming within minutes.

Ludger stepped out first, stretching slightly as he looked over the courtyard. The rain had left the marble tiles gleaming, the smell of wet stone mixing with the faint scent of oil from the street lamps.

Kharnek stepped down next, blinking at the polished surroundings. “Big place,” he muttered. “Too clean. Makes me nervous.”

Kaela laughed softly as she hopped out. “You’d prefer a tavern, wouldn’t you?”

“Aye,” Kharnek said, grinning. “You can tell more truth over a few mugs than in a whole council room.”

That drew an amused glance from Lord Torvares, who was already speaking with the head guard by the stairs. “If only diplomacy were that simple, my friend,” he said, his tone calm but deliberate.

He turned to face the group once the last trunk had been carried inside. “We’ll take the day to rest. Tomorrow, we’ll receive word on where the Velis League envoys wish to meet.”

Kharnek scratched his beard. “Sounds overly complicated. Why not just gather both sides in a tavern, share a drink, and talk things out? It’s what we do back north.”

Torvares chuckled lightly, though his eyes remained sharp. “Because this isn’t a truce between clans, Kharnek. This is

business

, and business between nations is never just business.”

He began walking toward the entrance, speaking as he went. “The Velis League trades in magic creations and runic magic. Their forges and academies produce technology that even the Empire’s artificers can’t match. If we’re not careful, what they offer as ‘partnership’ could just as easily become dependency.”

He stopped by the doorway, turning back to meet their gazes. “So yes, this will be complicated. Because the moment either side gains too much from this deal, the other will see it as a threat. In essence, we’re not just negotiating trade… we’re negotiating the limits of the next war.”

That silenced even Kharnek. The northerner frowned, folding his arms. “So we’re giving them weapons in exchange for peace?”

Torvares gave a slow, tired nod. “You could say that. And that’s precisely why the Empire wants to keep a close eye on it.”

Kaela exhaled softly. “Sounds like a perfect recipe for disaster.”

“Disaster,” Ludger said dryly, “is what keeps politics alive.”

Torvares smiled faintly. “Exactly. Which is why we’ll walk in there smiling, even while counting every dagger in the room.”

He gestured toward the villa’s entrance, where warm light spilled across the polished floors. “Now, get settled. Tomorrow, the game begins.”

As the group dispersed, Ludger lingered at the doorway a moment longer, glancing out at the capital’s skyline through the thinning mist. The Empire’s heart was shining, but he could already feel the storm beneath it.

After dinner, the villa had gone quiet, only the faint hum of enchanted lanterns and the occasional sound of patrolling guards broke the silence.

Ludger returned to his room, closing the heavy oak door behind him. The others were probably unwinding or asleep already, but he had work to do, one last card to play.

He sat by the window, watching the lights of the capital flicker like stars scattered across the ground. The Empire looked calm from here, almost peaceful, but he knew better. Every noble district, every mage’s tower, every trade hall hid more schemes than any dungeon he’d ever walked through.

Still, that wasn’t his concern tonight. His focus was singular. If Maurien was focused anywhere gathering information, he needed to receive a signal. The problem was that he couldn’t just wander the empire searching for the old mage. Not with Torvares in charge of their movements. So he’d have to let the sky do it for him.

He exhaled slowly, rolled his shoulders, and began to draw his mana inward, deep and focused. His breathing slowed as the energy coursed through his veins, heavier, hotter, faster. Every muscle tensed as he forced his will outward, connecting his mana flow with the air above.

The pressure built quickly. Sweat formed on his forehead. The faint blue runes on his rings and wrists glowed like embers as his Rain Sorcerer class pushed against its limits. He’d never tried to cover an entire city before. He wasn’t even sure he could.

But Maurien had once said that magic wasn’t about reach, it was about

clarity

. If you wanted the world to listen, you had to make it understand what you were saying. So Ludger gave the sky a message.

Mana surged from him like a pulse, rising through the villa’s roof and into the upper air. The clouds above the capital began to gather, thin wisps first, then thicker gray masses swirling in lazy circles. His control slipped once or twice, the connection too vast to maintain,  until he had an idea.

“...Fine,” he muttered under his breath.

He activated Overdrive, water-attuned, just for an instant. His mana flow sharpened, smoothed, and aligned like polished steel through water. The strain on his mind eased as the elemental synergy took hold, his will sliding through the current instead of fighting it.

In that moment, the clouds

obeyed

.

Thunder rumbled over the city, and then came the rain, heavy, fast, and alive with mana. Every drop shimmered faintly under the moonlight, carrying his magical signature across the entire capital like a beacon only a mage would feel.

He held it as long as he could, pushing, guiding, shaping the storm to last just long enough to make an impression. Three minutes. That was his limit.

When his mana finally burned out, the rain continued for a few seconds before tapering off into a fine mist. Ludger’s vision blurred, his pulse hammering in his ears. He stumbled backward, collapsing onto his bed without even bothering to remove his boots.

His limbs felt heavy, his mana circuits raw, but a faint smirk lingered on his face.

If Maurien’s anywhere nearby… he’ll know that wasn’t natural weather.

The last thing he heard before sleep took him was the soft drip of water outside the window, a reminder of the storm he’d just called down on the Empire’s heart. He didn’t know yet if it worked. But by morning, someone in the capital would.

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