Chapter 560

Raukor didn’t sit.

He stood by the table like a man delivering a report to someone who might actually do something with it. The three Primal Groves scouts stayed behind him, silent, eyes alert, not watching Ludger, watching the room, watching the door, watching

everything

.

Raukor’s gaze settled on Ludger.

“I wanted you involved,” he said.

Ludger’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Involved in what?”

Raukor didn’t hesitate.

“In the contention of those labyrinths,” he replied. “The sealed ones. The ones people pretend are not there.”

Ludger’s expression didn’t change, but something inside him tightened.

Raukor continued, voice steady, matter-of-fact, like he was describing weather patterns again.

“You are strong,” Raukor said. “And you have the means to mobilize people. Many people. More than most small lords. More than most guilds. You can build walls. You can move stone. You can organize.”

He gestured faintly, as if pointing at Lionfang itself.

“That is why I showed you the existence of those threats,” Raukor said. “Not because I wanted trouble. Because trouble is coming whether you want it or not.”

Ludger watched him for a long moment.

“So you baited me,” Ludger said quietly.

Raukor’s ears twitched again, acknowledging the accusation without reacting to it.

“I guided you,” he corrected. “To see. To understand. To choose.”

His gaze hardened slightly.

“In the past,” Raukor said, “when the Empire was much larger…”

The three scouts shifted almost imperceptibly, as if the words carried weight even for them.

“…it fell apart,” Raukor finished.

Ludger’s eyes narrowed further. “I already know that.”

Raukor’s voice dropped a fraction, not softer—just heavier.

“Monster invasions were a part of the cause,” he said. “Many. More than the border could hold. More than the legions could contain. Labyrinths breaking. Things coming out that people did not understand.”

He paused, letting the image build on its own.

“It almost ended civilization as the world knew it,” Raukor said. “The countries that split and its survivors took advantage of the chaos to find independence and also change the history a bit to say that they just rebelled instead of taking advantage of the chaos.”

Silence filled the room. Not awkward silence. The kind of silence that came when someone named a truth most people lived their whole lives trying not to think about.

Raukor looked at Ludger like he was setting a burden down on his shoulders on purpose.

“You are building in the north,” Raukor said. “You are making a heart where there was only the frontier.”

His eyes sharpened.

“So I needed you to know,” he said. “Because if those labyrinths wake again… this time, there may not be an Empire large enough to pretend it can handle it.”

Ludger didn’t speak immediately. He stared at Raukor, then at the three scouts, then at the stone table as if it might offer a simpler answer. It didn’t. The implications were brutal.

Raukor hadn’t hidden the Spider Queen because he forgot. He’d hidden it because he wanted Ludger to walk straight into the truth and become the kind of leader who couldn’t look away afterward.

And that meant this wasn’t just about spider silk. It was about what came after the seals failed. Ludger studied Raukor for a long moment without blinking. No sarcasm. No dry comment. Just the kind of serious focus he usually reserved for enemies.

Then he asked the obvious question.

“Why didn’t the beastmen move to keep those labyrinths in check?” Ludger said. “Or at least spread information about them.”

Raukor’s ears twitched, and the motion carried more weariness than any sigh.

“We tried,” he said.

He didn’t sound bitter. Just… exhausted by repetition.

“We tried to cooperate with other nations,” Raukor continued. “To warn. To organize. To make agreements before panic forces bad choices.”

One of the Primal Groves scouts, Harkun, Ludger thought, shifted slightly, jaw tightening as if the memory still annoyed him.

Raukor’s gaze stayed on Ludger.

“Our words were ignored,” he said simply.

Ludger’s eyes narrowed. “Ignored how?”

“Smiles,” Raukor replied. “Polite nods. Empty promises. Some called it beastman fear. Some called it exaggeration. Some called it an old story meant to make humans send coin or troops. All in all, it was just another step to rewrite history.”

He paused, then added the part that mattered most.

“Most people in power believed it wouldn’t happen again.”

Silence.

Ludger’s fingers tapped once against the table, slow, controlled.

Raukor continued, voice flat and heavy.

“Peace made them complacent,” he said. “Long peace. Enough that they began to believe their prosperity was permanent.”

His gaze sharpened slightly, almost contemptuous now.

“They built taller walls for bandits,” Raukor said, “and forgot the walls were meant for things that did not negotiate.”

He looked around the room as if the stone itself was proof.

“When you live too long without catastrophe,” Raukor said, “you start thinking catastrophe is a myth.”

He met Ludger’s eyes again.

“They thought their age would never end,” Raukor finished. “So they did nothing.”

Ludger didn’t respond immediately. Because he understood that too well.

He’d seen it in nobles. In merchants. In towns that treated danger like a rumor until it was chewing on the gate. He exhaled slowly through his nose, gaze cold.

“That,” he replied, “is why I brought this to you.”

Ludger’s gaze shifted to the three scouts.

He’d noticed their silence from the start, the way they stood like they belonged to the room, the way their eyes kept tracking the door and corners like habit, not fear.

He didn’t like loose pieces in a conversation like this.

“What about you three,” Ludger asked. “Why are you hearing this as well?”

For a moment none of them spoke.

Then Harkun stepped forward half a pace. Not aggressive. Just claiming responsibility.

“We came to help you,” Harkun said, voice steady. “To find the enemies of the Primal Groves.”

Ludger’s eyes stayed on him, waiting. Harkun didn’t dodge.

“But we also received orders,” he added, blunt and honest. “To watch you. To see if you can be trusted.”

Ludger stared at him for a beat. Then he exhaled slowly through his nose.

He didn’t roll his eyes, not physically. He didn’t give them the satisfaction. But he felt it. Deeply.

Of course.

Of course someone was “watching.” Of course there was another test, another silent evaluation, another group waiting for him to prove he wasn’t secretly insane, corrupt, or weak. Even though he already helped them twice… they wanted to see him in action instead of just seeing the results of his actions that helped them.

It felt like half the world had decided to stand around with their arms crossed while he did all the work.

Ludger kept his voice calm. “And?”

Harkun met his eyes without flinching. “If you are trustworthy, we report that. If you are not, we report that too.”

Raukor didn’t interrupt. The other two scouts, Ragan and Sivra, stayed quiet, but their posture said they agreed.

Ludger’s mouth twitched faintly. Not a smile. More like the edge of irritation trying to become humor and failing.

“A lot of people seem to enjoy testing me,” Ludger said.

Harkun’s expression didn’t change. “You are building power quickly.”

“That’s not a crime,” Ludger replied.

“No,” Harkun agreed. “But it is something people fear.”

“Now,” he said, “tell me what you actually want from me.”

Raukor didn’t answer like a man making demands.

He answered like a man setting down a truth that had been heavy for a long time.

“We don’t want anything from you directly,” Raukor said.

Ludger frowned. “Then why bring this to me?”

Raukor’s gaze stayed steady. “So we can work with you.”

The words were too clean. Too convenient. And that made Ludger distrust them on instinct.

“You’re supposed to be a wandering blacksmith,” Ludger said, blunt. “Your goal is to forge masterpieces. Not tying yourself to politics.”

He paused, eyes narrowing. “Do you still work for the Primal Groves?”

Raukor’s ears twitched once, and his mouth tightened slightly.

“Yes,” he said. “And no.”

Ludger didn’t blink. “Explain.”

Raukor nodded slowly, like he’d expected that question from the beginning.

“I don’t agree with the elders in most of their decisions,” he said.

That landed harder than any dramatic confession. It was the kind of statement that meant years of arguments and compromises behind closed doors.

“But I am not against their goals,” Raukor continued. “The Groves endure. The Groves survive. The Groves keep the old threats contained as much as they can.”

He looked at Ludger with a frankness that wasn’t apologizing.

“That is why I decided to come up clean,” Raukor said. “No more half-answers. No more guiding you blind.”

Ludger’s frown deepened. “And the rest.”

Raukor’s expression didn’t change. “That is all I know.”

Silence.

Ludger held it for a beat, then said, “Convenient.”

Raukor didn’t flinch. “True.”

Then he added, matter-of-fact, “If you want more answers, you will need to speak to the elders.”

Ludger’s gaze sharpened. “And they’ll speak to me?”

Raukor nodded once. “After you gain their trust a bit more.”

Ludger exhaled through his nose, irritation threatening to surface again.

Of course.

Another gate. Another test. Another group of people with important information who wanted him to perform competence for them like a trained animal before they stopped hoarding secrets.

He didn’t show it. He just tapped the table once.

“Fine,” Ludger said.

Raukor’s eyes remained steady.

“That,” he replied, “is why we can work with you.”

Ludger’s mouth twitched faintly. Not approval. Acceptance.

“Alright,” he said. “If it’s like this…”

His eyes sharpened.

“…then I’ll use your cooperation to its utmost limits.”

Harkun’s ears twitched. Ragan and Sivra stayed still. Raukor simply nodded, as if that was expected.

“Good,” Raukor said. “That is why—”

Ludger raised a hand, cutting him off.

“First,” Ludger continued, voice flat and practical, “I’m sending you trainees.”

Raukor blinked. “Trainees.”

“Yes,” Ludger said. “Kids. The ones with steady hands and enough patience to not explode when the metal doesn’t obey them.”

Raukor’s eyes narrowed. “I am not running a smith academy.”

“You’re a blacksmith,” Ludger replied. “That’s close enough.”

Raukor opened his mouth. Ludger kept going before he could argue.

“You will teach them the basics,” Ludger said. “Tool handling. Heat control. Material discipline. Not ‘art.’ Not ‘masterpieces.’ Fundamentals.”

Raukor’s ears twitched, and for the first time since he’d walked into the room, there was a flicker of something dangerously close to emotion on his face.

Regret.

Ludger saw it and didn’t soften.

“And you will not pass on your obsession with only forging masterpieces,” Ludger added, tone calm like he was discussing grain quotas. “If they learn that from you, they’ll become useless for months because they’ll keep chasing perfection instead of producing gear.”

Raukor stared at him. The scouts behind him were very still. Watching. Judging. Probably enjoying this more than they should.

“You want me,” Raukor said slowly, “to teach children.”

“Yes,” Ludger replied.

“And you want me,” Raukor continued, voice tightening, “to teach them

without

teaching them the reason I forge.”

“Yes,” Ludger said again, completely unmoved.

Raukor’s jaw worked, the struggle visible now, pride, purpose, and the brutal reality that he’d offered cooperation to a guildmaster who treated every resource like a lever.

Ludger leaned slightly forward, eyes calm and sharp.

“Your desire for masterpieces is yours,” Ludger said. “Keep it. Protect it. Worship it if you want.”

He tapped the table once.

“But while you’re here,” he added, “you’re also a force multiplier for my guild. And my guild needs more hands that understand metal.”

Raukor held his stare, then finally exhaled through his nose.

He nodded once, slow.

“Fine,” Raukor said.

Then, after a beat, with the weary resignation of a man realizing what he’d just invited into his life:

“…You truly do use cooperation to its limits.”

Ludger’s mouth twitched faintly.

“That’s the point,” he replied.

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