Chapter 421

Ludger lay on the hideout, arm braced in splints, leg wrapped tight while he healed himself. His eyes remained open even when exhausted, tracking the flicker of lantern-fire against metal shelves and half-finished gadgets. He could rest his body, not his mind.

Outside, Coria was roaring like a wounded beast.

Rumor → panic → anger → politics.

The chain reaction was inevitable.

Linne and Dalan were the ones handling the surface, slipping through crowds, spreading controlled whispers, salvaging any fragment of armor or rune lodged in rooftops before Council cleanup teams could confiscate them.

Linne’s words from earlier echoed in his skull:

“Stay here. We can’t risk you being seen yet.”

He understood the logic. But understanding didn’t make waiting easier.Hours crawled. Lanterns burned low. City bells tolled noon, then afternoon. Still no report from anyone outside the hideout.

No update from the beastman trackers. No word from Maurien, Kaela, or Renvar in the other cities. Not even a coded message. Silence. It gnawed at him worse than pain.

Ludger shifted restlessly, wincing as his shoulder protested. His leg throbbed with every heartbeat. He tried to close his eyes. Failed. He was too aware of what was happening beyond these walls.

Council meetings right now. Politicians scrambling. Guilds rewriting the narrative. Some calling him a hero. Others labeling him a terrorist. And he wasn’t out there shaping the outcome. That feeling burned more than broken bones.

He checked the door every few minutes. Listened for coded knocks. For footsteps. For anything. Nothing. Even eating felt wrong, like chewing glass. At one point he muttered under his breath:

“…Did they all get caught?”

Paranoia whispered. Logic disagreed. His pulse refused to choose between them. By evening, the silence became suffocating. No updates. No news. No signals.

Just a city’s heartbeat pounding above him, muffled by stone and fear, and a boy who hated waiting more than bleeding. Ludger exhaled harshly, fist tightening. He wasn’t built to sit still. Not when pieces were moving without him.

His voice broke the quiet:

“The hell is taking so long…?”

Even exhausted, even broken, his impatience was alive and feral. He needed information. He needed movement. He needed… The hatch upstairs rattled.

Footsteps. One set. Slow. Heavy. Not Linne. Not Dalan.

And Ludger’s mana flared instinctively, pain spiking through his arm, as he prepared for whatever came next.

The footsteps stopped before closing the hatch.

A moment of silence stretched, then the door slid open with a metallic scrape.

A figure stepped, hooded, armored, posture loose like someone who expected trouble and was bored she didn’t find it. She reached up, unclipped her helmet, and Kaela’s grin greeted him, sharp, confident, smug in a way only someone who just cleaned up a mess could be.

“You really did it this time, Luds.”

She dropped the hood and shook loose hair, eyes glinting with amusement.

“Coria is screaming your new title louder than the artillery did.”

Ludger stared at her with the patience of a dying saint.

“First one back?”

Kaela nodded, tapping the side of her boot against the wall.

“Of course. Your favorite big sister arrived first.”

Her gaze flicked to Ludger’s bandaged arm and leg, smirk sharpening.

“Again you cause a ruckus. At this rate, once nations realize how problematic you are, no border in the world will open for you.”

Ludger didn’t even blink.

“I don’t need borders open to move.”

Kaela snorted. Fair. He’d already broken more walls than he’d walked through doors. She leaned against the workbench, arms crossed, and the humor in her eyes bled into something more professional.

“So. Status report, Vice Guildmaster?”

Ludger’s gaze sharpened, impatient, hungry for intel.

“Report.”

Kaela shrugged, but her eyes held weight.

“Even before sunrise, rumors of your sky duel hit every tavern and outpost.”

The corners of her lips twitched. “Hero to half, menace to the other half. Good job.”

Ludger grunted, the closest thing he could muster to acknowledgment. Kaela continued:

“With Coria losing their mind, the group I was observing got jumpy. Started moving cargo out before the Council could lock things down.”

His breath stilled.

“Cargo?”

Kaela’s face darkened, no humor now.

“Enslaved beastmen. Children, mostly.”

She tapped her dagger sheath, stained, not cleaned yet. “I stabbed a few handlers when they resisted. Sliced some tendons for the slow ones. Confirmed the cargo personally.”

Ludger’s jaw tightened. Pain forgotten for a moment.

“Where are they now?”

“Sivra took them.”

Kaela’s tone softened, briefly human.

“Guiding them back to Primal Groves. She said they’d be safer there for now.”

Ludger exhaled through his nose, relief mixed with something cold and sharp inside him.

“You didn’t escort?”

Kaela lifted her hands in a helpless little gesture.

“I offered. She refused. Said the League is bleeding manpower into Coria right now, their hunt for you is priority.”

Then she smiled thin, predatory.

“And she’s right. The roads are empty. Guards pulled inward. They’ll be ghosts in the forest long before anyone notices they’re gone.”

Ludger leaned back against the cot, breathing slower, body broken, but mind cataloguing everything.

Rumors reached other cities already. Enemy cells panicking and moving slaves prematurely. Sivra escorting survivors safely home. Kaela & Renvar investigating separate factions. Council distracted by Coria crisis.

He didn’t win tonight. But he hurt the machine. Made it flinch. Forced mistakes.

He stared at Kaela, eyes tired, but burning.

“Good work.”

She grinned wider, rolling her shoulders.

“Wasn’t easy. But chaos is your specialty, Luds. You burn one city and three doors open somewhere else.”

He didn’t correct her. She wasn’t wrong.

Kaela leaned against a crate of half-finished rune components, crossing one leg over the other with a wolfish smile, the kind of smile that meant she’d caused

problems

again, and enjoyed every second of it. She wiped a smear of dried blood from her knife with her thumb.

“Anyway,” she continued, voice low but bright with the thrill of chaos,

“I made enough noise out there. A few people definitely saw me.”

Ludger’s eyes narrowed. Kaela shrugged unapologetically.

“I was careful. Masked, cloaked, silent at first, but when those wagons started moving, subtlety died.”

She lifted a hand, gesturing lazily. “A couple survivors might have seen the girl who stabbed half their guards and chased the rest into the river.”

She tapped her temple with one finger.

“Add that with the fact people saw

you

punching a commander's soul out of his spine over Coria? Yeah. Anyone with half a brain will start connecting dots.”

She tilted her head, voice dipping into dangerous amusement.

“Shadow  infiltrates city and exposes child-powered golems.  Girl infiltrates another and frees beast slaves. Same week. Same targets. Same corruption.”

Her grin sharpened.

“Most will assume we work together.”

Ludger didn’t deny it. Couldn’t. It was exactly what they wanted, just not this soon.

Kaela rolled a dagger across her knuckles, silver flashing in the lantern-light.

“If folks don’t get mad over this, if Coria swallows the abuse and looks the other way…”

Her tone dropped into something colder, like steel unsheathed in candlelight.

“I might start the plan to sink the Velis League myself.”

She didn’t say it as a joke. Kaela meant every word. Silence filled the hideout, heavy, charged. Ludger stared at the ceiling for a long moment, breath slow, expression unreadable.

Then:

“…We don’t need to go that far yet.”

Kaela’s eyebrow lifted. He rarely objected to destruction when necessary.

Ludger continued, voice low but firm, not reckless rage, but strategy.

“If Velis is really that rotten, they’ll rot openly.”

He tightened his good hand into a fist.

“We won’t need to burn them down. They’ll hand us the torch eventually.”

Kaela blinked once, then smirked, dark amusement resurfacing.

“Always pragmatic.”

“Always.” Ludger replied quietly.

He winced as dull pain climbed his spine, but his eyes stayed clear. Focused. Calculating. The League wouldn’t fall tonight. But it would bleed. It already was. Kaela sheathed her dagger with a click.

“Fine. We wait. But if the Council tries to whitewash everything, if they dare call you a terrorist…”

Her smile turned predatory.

“I’ll start a riot myself.”

Ludger didn’t oppose her this time.

He only looked at the dim lamp on the table, the flame shaking like the future, and muttered:

“…Let’s hope they choose the smart path first.”

The workshop door creaked again, lighter footsteps this time, hurried but dragging with fatigue. Linne entered first, braid loose, gloves half-removed, dust staining her sleeves. Dalan followed behind, panting, hair a mess, eyes alert despite exhaustion.

They paused at the sight of Kaela lounging with her boots kicked onto a crate. Kaela lifted two fingers in a lazy greeting.

Linne nodded with quiet respect. Dalan mirrored it, though his relief was louder, borderline collapsing into a chair.

“You’re back.” Ludger said, shifting upright despite his body’s protests.

Linne exhaled, tired, but not defeated.

“Kids are safe. Healers from the guild quarter took them in.”

She loosened her scarf and wiped soot from her cheek. “Trauma’s bad. But they’re breathing. That’s more than we expected tonight.”

Ludger felt something cold in his chest loosen, not joy, but pressure easing. Dalan leaned forward on his knees.

“The fallout in the Guild Quarter is ugly. In a

good

way.”

Kaela arched a brow. He continued, hands animated despite how drained he looked.

“Too many witnesses saw the unconscious kids you saved. Too many saw the machinery, the rune-labs, the holding cells. People are furious. They’re demanding answers.”

Linne added, voice clipped and precise:

“Most citizens don’t want war with Primal Groves. Especially not over slave children used as cores.”

She glanced at Ludger meaningfully.

“The Council realized that fast.”

Kaela snorted. “Painfully fast, I hope.”

Linne continued:

“There’s talk everywhere, streets, taverns, even factory wings. ‘If the League treats beastfolk like fuel, what stops them from doing it to us?’”

Public fear, the most useful weapon in politics. Dalan wiped sweat from his brow.

“The Council issued an emergency directive near sunset.”

Ludger’s eyes sharpened, impatient for the next words.

“Everyone who worked directly under Commander Albrecht is under sealed surveillance. No travel, no communication, no leaving Coria. Council investigators are tearing through guild records.”

Kaela whistled low.

“So they’re scared.”

“Terrified,” Dalan confirmed.

“This wasn’t a wipe-and-forget. The explosion forced transparency, it’s too visible to bury now.”

Linne nodded, leaning against the table beside Ludger.

“Guilt-by-association is being processed. They’re deciding case by case, did they

know

about the experiments, or were they pawns?”

Dalan rubbed his face with both hands.

“Executions are being discussed. Quietly.”

Ludger sat silent for a heartbeat, processing, analyzing, repositioning. The trap sprung tonight didn’t end the corruption. But it fractured it. It exposed it. It forced movement.

The Velis League was bleeding politics, not blood. Better for now.

He exhaled slowly, tension settling into something coiled, readiness, not despair.

“Good.”

His voice was soft but cut like stone.

Kaela smirked, chair tipping back slightly.

“See, Luds? You don’t need to burn Velis yourself.”

Ludger didn’t smile.

“Not today.”

But the implication lingered like a blade in shadow.

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