Chapter 406

The Elders watched him think, and then the dog Elder rumbled:

“This benefits both sides. You need eyes where we cannot look. We need hands where we cannot reach.”

The cat Elder’s voice softened dangerously.

“And if the Lionsguard proves trustworthy, we may open more paths. Trade routes. Port rights. Information flows.”

The owl Elder finished like a closing sentence.

“A chance for peace through action. not speeches.”

The offer was real. The stakes were real.

Beastman trackers working under Lionsguard banners meant new skills, new environments, new synergy with Ludger’s Teacher class. And access to wild lands no Empire soldier could touch without causing war.

Silence sat like a blade on the table. Then Ludger’s fingers tapped once. Light. Precise. He finally raised his gaze to the Elders, and spoke.

“I can work with that,” he said. “But if your trackers join us, they follow orders. Lionsguard doesn’t run blindly, and we don’t babysit hotheads. We’ll face backlash for working with non-guildsman especially across borders. I’ll handle it.”

His voice sharpened like iron on grindstone.

“But if they’re coming under our banner, they move under my command. If someone starts a fight they shouldn’t, we’ll stop them. forcefully if needed.”

No arrogance. No threat. Just rules.

Kaela smirked openly. Maurien’s eyes glinted like someone who approved of order. Rathen exhaled, relief and dread in equal measure.

The Elders observed Ludger like he was a cub daring to sit in a lion’s place, yet doing it without trembling. For a heartbeat, silence. Then the dog Elder threw his head back and barked a laugh, deep and booming like war drums.

“Hah! Spoken like a real pack leader,” he said, smacking the stone table with his palm. “If a young fool challenges someone stronger, he

deserves

broken bones. That is how lessons stick!”

Harkun grinned beneath his whiskers, pride faint but undeniable. The owl Elder merely blinked, approval hidden behind that moonlit stare. The cat Elder’s tail swayed, entertained.

Ludger didn’t smile. He didn’t need to. Authority didn’t require showmanship. Just clarity. The dog Elder leaned forward, gaze sharp but respectful.

“You set your terms well, boy. You speak like someone who has fought more wars than his age suggests.”

Ludger simply replied:

“I only speak from experience.”

And the room knew it was true. Now the negotiation moved from permission, to execution.

The cat Elder’s eyes narrowed, approval mixed with something thoughtful.

“And if you fail?”

Ludger met her gaze without blinking.

“Then I bleed for it. But I won’t fail.”

Not bravado. Not arrogance. Conviction. Proven in battle, in teaching, in forging, in every step of his growth. It carried weight. Enough that even ancient beasts listened.

Harkun finally cut in, voice deep and grounding.

“We will select three trackers. One from each clan present here. They will meet your strength with their senses, your speed with instinct, your maps with our paths.”

The dog Elder added:

“And if they bring word of slavery, you act. Not next season. Not after councils or banners. Act.”

Ludger nodded.

“We don’t wait.”

The owl Elder’s feathers fluffed with satisfaction. The cat Elder’s tail curled like a question answered. The dog Elder leaned back, verdict given.

“Then the Lionsguard and the Groves will hunt together. A short pact. Practical. Bloody if needed.”

He grinned wide enough to flash old fangs.

“And if you break this trust, boy…”

Ludger finished for him, steady as iron.

“Then you hunt me.”

The table went silent. Then the dog Elder grinned even wider, showing cracked yellow teeth.

“I hope you don’t make me try. My old bones couldn’t catch you.”

Laughter, low and rough, rippled through beastmen around the room. Not mockery. Respect. Harkun stood and gestured to the exit.

“Rest. Eat. The trackers will find you by morning.”

As they rose, Kaela whispered with a grin:

“You realize you basically threatened three national elders and made a deal, right?”

Ludger shrugged lightly.

“They started it.”

Rathen rubbed his temples. “Ironhand paperwork is going to kill me.”

Maurien only said:

“This alliance will change something bigger than trade.”

Ludger paused at the doorway, casting one final glance back to the Elders.

He didn’t speak aloud, but the thought was clear in his eyes. Time to hunt shadows. Across borders. Across nations. Across the world. And the Lionsguard would lead the charge.

Their group left the watchtower under Harkun’s lead and crossed the port, the forest’s living shadows shifting overhead like the ceiling of a cathedral. The docks creaked beneath their boots, thick slabs of root intertwined with stone, polished by years of salt and rain. No cheers greeted them, no welcoming drums or ritual. Beastmen did not waste pride on formality. They rewarded strength and purpose. Their silence was acknowledgement enough.

Harkun led them to a structure built directly into the side of a colossal tree trunk, an inn, though hardly in the Imperial sense. Its front wall was grown rather than constructed, shaped by guiding roots and vines into form, with windows hollowed through living wood. The moment they crossed the threshold, the atmosphere changed like someone had pulled a drumskin taut.

Inside, dozens of beastmen filled long tables, fur, feathers, scales, all shapes and tribes. They ate in heavy silence, but it wasn’t the quiet of peace or relaxation. It was listening silence. Curious. Suspicious. Judging. Most paused with bowls halfway to their mouths as Ludger’s group entered, golden and amber eyes tracking them without blinking. No hostility, but not a single gesture of ease. More like an audience waiting to see whether the strangers would bow or break.

Ludger didn’t give them either. He walked forward, calm, unhurried, and chose an empty central table instead of a comfortable corner. He sat like he belonged there. Maurien took the seat at his right, composed and watchful. Kaela dropped into the left chair with her usual unbothered confidence, boots up and smirk sharp. Renvar sat stiff-backed, clearly trying to imitate their ease and failing. Rathen lowered himself last, facing the room like a man who understood exactly how many ways they could die if this went wrong.

For a while no, no one spoke and then food was served to them. Then Rathen exhaled and leaned closer, keeping his voice low in instinct even though silence made every word feel loud. “I understand why we’re doing this,” he muttered, rubbing his temples, “but you accepted their terms quickly. We never even got their names.”

Ludger shrugged, eyes on the stew placed before him like this was any other tavern. “Names don’t stop war. Agreements do. Beastmen don’t respect caution, they respect resolve. They wanted to negotiate from strength, so we answered from strength.” He cut a piece of meat calmly and ate, unbothered by the dozens of ears tilted in his direction.

Kaela nodded as if it were obvious. “If we demanded frills and rituals, they’d think we were nobles. Nobles stall for seasons. Hunters act.”

Maurien set her cup down with controlled grace. “And if we pushed harder today, they’d test us. Better they see us as capable allies than a threat that needs killing.”

Rathen sighed deeply, as though adding years to his life. “Politics with nobles is easier,” he whispered, resigned. “Nobles send letters. Beastmen….”

Ludger took another bite of meat, perfectly calm, as if the entire inn wasn’t holding its breath to judge the boy who faced elders like equals. “Then it’s a good thing we’re hunters,” he said. “If they expect hesitation, they’ll be disappointed.”

His tone wasn’t loud, but he didn’t soften it. He didn’t hide it. The words carried through the wood hall like iron scraping over stone. Several beastmen exchanged glances, something shifting behind their eyes, respect blooming where skepticism lay moments before. A predator recognizes another.

The innkeeper eventually approached, a stag-man nearly two meters tall, broad-shouldered and silent. Without a word, he set another tray on the table. Among the bowls was a single slab of dark meat, rough and dense. Not offered, tested. A challenge disguised as hospitality.

Ludger picked it up with two fingers and bit into it without hesitation.

A ripple passed through the room. A few beastmen nodded once. Others hummed low approval. The tension didn’t vanish, but it bent into something different, acknowledgment. Not as honored guests. As hunters who might run beside them.

After the meal, they were guided upstairs to their rooms. Each one was small but sturdy, lined with thick hare-fur blankets and bone lanterns that glowed with soft green mana. The air smelled of cedar and wildflowers, comforting in an unfamiliar way. They were clearly watched, but comfortably so, given a bed, not a cell. A place for guests preparing for tomorrow’s work rather than prisoners kept for judgement.

Kaela flopped onto her bed and stretched with a catlike groan. “Well,” she muttered, grinning, “not stabbed. I’ll count that as a win.”

Maurien folded his cloak and sat in poised meditation. “Not stabbed yet,” he corrected, voice calm and dry.

Renvar kicked off his boots and collapsed face-first into his pillow. “I thought pirate hunting was crazy. Now we’re negotiating with walking wolves and cats? I need time to adjust.”

Rathen sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing his eyebrows with both hands. “The paperwork alone may kill me faster than any beastman. But… this might work.” He sounded like he was convincing himself more than anyone else.

Ludger lay back against the pillow, hands behind his head, eyes open in the dim flickering lanternlight. He didn’t look anxious or excited. Just thoughtful. Focus stretched ahead like a road across borders.

“They’ll send trackers by morning,” he said quietly. “Then we get everything we need in return.”

Kaela tilted her head. “And what do we do until then?”

Ludger closed his eyes, not sleeping, simply waiting for dawn.

“We rest. Tomorrow, we start hunting.”

Outside, the Groves breathed, deep, ancient, aware. Somewhere beyond the treeline, people were disappearing in the dark. Somewhere far ahead, guilds moved in shadow. And the Lionsguard had just volunteered to step into that darkness.

Not because they were ordered. But because they chose to. And Ludger always acted on the path no one else dared take.

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