Chapter 681

Ludger turned immediately toward Rathen.

The captain stood at the wheel, posture rigid, eyes tracking Ludger’s movements like he was trying to decide whether to be angry or grateful. Ludger didn’t give him time to choose.

“Do you know what the Empire was moving?” Ludger asked.

Rathen’s answer was instant. He shook his head quickly, too quickly to be rehearsed.

“No,” Rathen said. “I swear it. I didn’t know.”

Ludger studied him for a long moment, searching for cracks. He found only tension and the kind of fear that came from realizing you’d been used as a courier for something you didn’t understand.

Ludger nodded once.

“All right,” he said.

Rathen swallowed. “What is it?”

Ludger’s gaze flicked briefly to the rail, Kaela watching like a hawk, Maurien expressionless but focused, Renvar openly curious, Viola trying to look casual and failing, Luna quiet and sharp, Shera bright-eyed, Valk calm but attentive.

All of them waiting. Ludger turned back to Rathen.

“We’ll talk about it later,” he said.

Then he stepped away from the center of attention, leaving the questions hanging in the salt air like hooks. Because the sun was sinking fast. The sea was getting darker. And answers didn’t matter if the ship didn’t survive the night to use them.

Dinner was quick.

Not because the food was bad, Rathen’s crew knew how to keep men fed on the sea, but because nobody had the appetite for a relaxed meal after watching Ludger surface with secrets clinging to him like seawater.

The sun finished dying beyond the horizon while they ate. By the time bowls were cleared, the ship sailed under a sky that had turned dark and clean, stars sharp as pinpricks. The ocean below reflected almost nothing. Just black movement and the occasional pale line of foam.

Afterward, the core group gathered in the captain’s cabin.

The space was compact, built for function: a sturdy table bolted to the floor, a few chairs, maps pinned along one wall, a lantern hanging from an iron hook. The air smelled like oil, salt, and old wood, like every decision made at sea had left residue.

Ludger took the seat nearest the table’s edge and waited until the last person stepped inside. Then he looked at Maurien.

“Privacy, please,” Ludger said.

Maurien didn’t ask questions. He simply raised a hand and shaped mana into a ward.

The air thickened subtly, not visible, but

felt.

A muffling layer formed around the cabin like invisible felt pressed against the walls, sealing sound in. It wasn’t a perfect silence spell, but it was enough to keep curious sailors from “accidentally” hearing anything useful.

Maurien nodded once, then leaned back against the wall like a man who planned to let everyone else talk themselves into trouble. Ludger’s eyes swept the cabin.

His people were there, Kaela, Renvar, Maurien. And then the extra attachments that weren’t so extra anymore: Shera and Valk. Viola and Luna. And Rathen, standing near the table with his arms folded, wearing the strained patience of a captain who knew he was being evaluated.

Aside from Ludger’s group, Rathen was the only one here who actually belonged to Ironhand. Which was exactly why he was sweating again.

Rathen cleared his throat, voice tight. “What is this about?” he asked. “It pains me to think you’re assuming someone in my guild is compromised.”

Ludger didn’t soften. He didn’t accuse either. He just asked the only question that mattered.

“Are you certain,” Ludger said, “that every single person in the Ironhand Guild can be trusted?”

The ward held the silence like a fist. Rathen’s mouth opened. Then closed. His jaw worked once, like he was chewing on an answer he didn’t like the taste of.

He didn’t look at Ludger. He stared at the table instead, at the grain in the wood, at the lantern’s flicker, at anything that didn’t force him to say the truth out loud.

Kaela’s eyes narrowed. Renvar watched without amusement.

Viola stood with her arms crossed, suddenly very still. Luna’s gaze sharpened, quiet and merciless. Shera’s expression was curious, but her eyes had shifted into something more dangerous. Valk looked calm, but attentive, like a monk witnessing a confession being considered.

Rathen remained silent. And in that silence, Ludger got his answer.

Rathen finally exhaled, long and heavy, like he’d been holding his breath since Lucius disappeared from the board.

“I can’t be certain,” he said.

The admission came out rough, and it sounded like it hurt his pride more than any storm ever had.

“Not since Lucius left,” Rathen continued, eyes fixed on the table. “When you lose the house that shields you, you lose… stability.” He lifted his gaze to Ludger, expression grim. “People’s loyalties change alongside the noble houses that rule the area they live in. Contracts change. Favors change. Fear changes. And some men… follow whatever seal keeps their children fed.”

He paused, jaw tightening.

“Now tell me,” Rathen said, voice sharper, defensive in a way that tried to hold dignity together, “what makes you think Ironhand is compromised?”

Ludger didn’t answer immediately. He let the question hang in Maurien’s warded quiet, the cabin lantern crackling softly as the ship shifted under them.

Then he spoke, voice calm and precise.

“Timing,” Ludger said.

Rathen frowned. Viola leaned in a fraction. Luna’s eyes narrowed. Shera’s interest sharpened. Valk remained still.

Ludger continued.

“The northerners told Ironhand how to advance through the runic golems labyrinth,” Ludger said. “Not everything. Not the full method. But enough, tips, patterns, what to expect, how to survive up to the guardian fights.”

Rathen nodded once, reluctantly acknowledging it.

“And then,” Ludger said, “almost immediately after Ironhand begins pulling higher quality mana cores, you receive a job request for

guardian parts.

Specific parts.”

His eyes stayed on Rathen, unwavering.

“That’s not a thought that appears naturally in a few days,” Ludger said. “If this was just a merchant rumor, it would take months. People have to see the new cores. Talk has to spread. Someone has to connect ‘they’re deeper now’ with ‘they might reach the guardian’ with ‘maybe we should ask for guardian parts.’”

He made a small motion with his fingers, like snapping links together.

“That chain takes time,” Ludger said. “Even in the capital.”

Rathen’s expression tightened.

“So either,” Ludger continued, “someone got information as soon as possible, before the rumor even had time to rot its way through taverns…”

He paused.

“…or the goal already existed.”

The words landed heavier than before.

“The goal was already there,” Ludger said, “but they didn’t know how to put it into action. Then the northerners unintentionally handed Ironhand the method to reach deep enough. And the request came fast because someone was waiting for that opening.”

Silence pressed against the cabin walls. Rathen didn’t deny it. He didn’t confirm it either.

But his eyes shifted, just slightly. to the side, the way a man did when he realized the problem wasn’t an accusation anymore. It was a map.

Ludger let that sit for a heartbeat. Then he moved. He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. A single marble.

Fist-sized. Smooth. Perfectly round. Its surface looked like glass… but the color inside wasn’t painted. It

lived

in the sphere, deep and layered, as if the light had been trapped and taught how to breathe.

This one was a deep ocean-blue, but it didn’t match the sea outside. It glowed faintly, a cold inner radiance that made the lantern light look warm by comparison.

Every eye in the cabin tracked it immediately. Ludger didn’t explain yet.

He simply held it for a moment, letting them feel the subtle pressure it gave off, the way it tugged at Mana Sense without behaving like a mana core.

Then he passed it to Viola. She caught it carefully, like it might bite.

The moment it hit her palm, her expression shifted, curiosity tightening into alert seriousness.

Kaela’s gaze sharpened. Renvar leaned forward slightly. Shera’s eyes lit up with predatory fascination. Luna stared like she was memorizing every detail. Valk tilted his head a fraction, calm but clearly interested. Even Rathen’s composure cracked, his eyes widening just a little.

Viola turned the marble slowly between her fingers, watching the glow roll within it like a current.

“What is this?” she asked, voice lower than usual.

Ludger’s eyes stayed on Rathen as he answered, calm as stone.

“This,” Ludger said, “is what the Empire was moving.”

Viola turned the sphere in her palm, watching the blue glow slide beneath the surface like a slow current trapped in glass.

“It doesn’t look like jewelry,” she said, brow furrowed. “And it doesn’t look like any gem I’ve seen either.” She lifted it closer to the lantern, squinting. The light didn’t reflect off it the way normal gemstones did, it

answered

the light, as if it had its own. “I’ve never seen something this… perfect. And I’ve never even heard rumors about it.”

Ludger nodded once.

“That’s my guess too,” he said. “You’ve never heard of it because it came from a sealed labyrinth. Sealed by the Empire.”

He leaned forward slightly, eyes on the marble but voice still aimed at the whole room.

“Look at the color,” Ludger said. “Look at the glow. It has an internal signature. Not like a core, not like a normal enchanted gem.” His jaw tightened. “That means it’s powerful. Useful.”

He paused, then added with blunt honesty.

“But I can’t tell what it’s used for,” Ludger said. “Not yet.”

The marble’s blue shimmer rolled lazily in Viola’s hand. Kaela’s gaze stayed fixed on it like she was measuring how hard it would be to steal. Renvar watched with a soldier’s caution. Shera looked like she wanted to poke it with every spell she knew. Valk’s attention was quiet, intense.

Ludger continued.

“Either way,” he said, “if it came from a sealed labyrinth,” his eyes narrowed “ or from the

other side

of a sealed labyrinth… that explains why the sea monster is back.”

The words settled into the cabin like a weight. Slowly, expressions changed. Not confusion, recognition. Connections snapping into place one by one.

Rathen’s eyes flicked to the marble, then to Ludger, then down to the table like he’d suddenly remembered every voyage he’d ever taken.

Kaela exhaled softly, the sound barely audible. Renvar’s mouth tightened. Maurien’s gaze sharpened into something colder. Luna’s eyes went distant, thinking fast. Viola’s grip on the marble tightened.

“The Ironhand was attacked years ago,” she said slowly, voice quiet now. “When they started moving countless mana cores from the runic golems labyrinth.”

Ludger nodded.

“And when we were attacked by the sahuagins,” Ludger said, “the attacks faded.”

Rathen swallowed. Everyone could see it now, two stories overlapping until they became one.

Back then, it had been mana cores. Now it was… this. These perfect, glowing spheres sealed behind imperial borders and carried through the sea like contraband wrapped in official paperwork.

Ludger’s eyes stayed cold.

“It doesn’t feel like material from our world,” he said. “Not like anything I’ve seen. It looks like a gem, but it doesn’t behave like one.” His gaze flicked from Viola’s hand to Rathen’s face. “Now I’m certain.”

He let the statement stand, then finished the thought with a quiet certainty that made the lantern seem dim.

“For some reason,” Ludger said, “the sea monster doesn’t like these things moving around.”

He paused, just long enough for everyone to feel the implication.

“Or,” he added, voice dropping, “it doesn’t want them on this side of the labyrinth.”

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