Rufas paused for a moment, tapping one fingertip lightly on the table as he organized his next line of inquiry. The room grew still again, not hostile, but tense, the kind of air that comes before a delicate incision.
Then he turned his calm, diplomatic gaze toward Eldric.
“I have another question,” Rufas said. “How exactly did your people connect the schematics of the runic schematics to Councillor Verk of all individuals?”
Eldric stiffened. Rufas continued, tone even and precise. “Runic armor is rare even within the Empire’s capital. Its internal layouts, mana channels, and control matrices are complicated, often proprietary. The Velis League’s designs are even more intricate. Connecting a single set of schematics to one councilor in Coria, out of a dozen influential rune engineers in the League, should be extremely difficult.”
He folded his hands neatly, watching Eldric with unsettling neutrality. “So again: how did your people determine that the designs belonged to Councillor Verk specifically?”
Eldric inhaled sharply, his posture tightening. It was clear the young noble did not appreciate being grilled, especially not by someone he assumed was on his side. House Dalmoren and House Roderick often worked in similar political spheres, and Eldric had likely expected Rufas to reinforce his statements, not dissect them with surgical precision.
Still, Eldric tried to maintain composure. “Our family maintained a diplomatic relationship with Coria’s council. I personally attended several meetings with Councillor Verk. During those discussions, he occasionally showed prototypes of their runic armor advancements. Unique ones.”
His voice wavered slightly, betraying irritation or discomfort. “The schematics found were extremely similar to what he had displayed. The internal routing, control systems, and energy cycling patterns matched what I’d seen.”
Kaela leaned forward with a lazy smile. “Wow. So casual show-and-tell sessions with top-secret armor designs? Very responsible councilor.”
Maurien hid a smirk. Ludger stayed silent, but his stare carved a hole straight through Eldric. Eldric, however, wasn’t done trying to redirect heat off himself.
“And why,” he said sharply, eyes darting toward Ludger and Viola, “am I being questioned as though I’m the one at fault? The Lionsguard has been acting suspiciously for months. Making frequent visits to Coria. Associating with volatile northern tribes. Bringing them under their command…”
“Allies,” Kaela cut in immediately. “Not underlings.”
She leaned back in her chair, smirk widening. “It’s easier to tame a pack of mad dogs than it is to turn drunk northerners into obedient subordinates. Trust me, we’ve tried.”
Eldric’s jaw tightened. He clearly didn’t appreciate being corrected, especially not by someone who looked ready to knife-fight a diplomat for fun.
Varik massaged his temples. Rufas’s expression didn’t change, though the slight lift of one eyebrow suggested amusement.
Ludger finally spoke, voice low and steady enough to draw every eye back to him.
“She’s right,” he said. “They’re allies. Equal partners in our operations. And if you,” he looked at Eldric “ knew anything about the Lionsguard, you’d know we don’t chain people to our banner.”
Eldric didn’t respond. But the silence that followed told the whole room something important:
The Rodericks weren’t just presenting evidence, they were trying to spin a narrative. And Ludger was dismantling it piece by piece.
Varik finally lifted his head from his hands and straightened, stepping back into the role of mediator before the room split cleanly in half.
“Eldric does have a point,” he said slowly, scanning the table. “The Lionsguard has been acting… unusual lately. I fought alongside some of your northern allies during the archipelago bridge construction. They were unconventional fighters, to put it mildly. Loud, chaotic, and fond of breaking formation whenever they felt like it—but not insane. Not criminals.”
He paused, choosing his next words carefully.
“But even from the outside, it’s clear that your guild’s movements have been different these past months. More discreet. Faster. Harder to track.”
He looked directly at Ludger.
“And your trade shipments to the Velis League used to be once a month. Now they arrive every three weeks. That alone raises eyebrows. The route from Lionfang to the capital takes six days. Another four days to reach Coria. Even if your riders sprinted their horses to exhaustion, the timing doesn’t make sense.”
Eldric leaned forward slightly, as if the validation bolstered him. “Exactly. We couldn’t ignore that.”
Before Ludger could bite back a retort, Kaela stretched lazily and waved a hand.
“That’s because we don’t use horses,” she said. “We got a runic engine from Dalan and Linne, the researchers we befriended in the League. Their prototype carriage runs on mana cores instead of beasts.”
Eldric blinked in surprise. Rufas raised an eyebrow. Varik leaned forward.
Kaela kept talking, proud of herself. “We’ve been testing improvements every time we visit Coria. The two of them tweak the engine’s efficiency, adjust the runic cycle output, reinforce the wheels, whatever they feel like experimenting on. So no, we don’t have to rest horses. Our carriage doesn’t get tired.”
Maurien nodded. “And because we help them with field data, they trust us. That earned their friendship, not manipulation.”
Kaela smirked. “Exactly why Dalan and Linne love the Lionsguard. We treat their inventions like toys and break them in creative ways. They adore that.”
Even Ludger allowed a tiny exhale, not quite a sigh, not quite amusement. Somewhere between the two.
Varik rubbed his chin, absorbing the information. “If that’s true… it would explain the shortened delivery intervals.”
Rufas added quietly, “It would also explain why Coria’s researchers speak so highly of you. And why the League would hesitate to accuse you without something substantial. So far, nothing from the league arrived about the lionsguard.”
Eldric shifted in discomfort, the narrative slipping through his fingers again.
Kaela leaned forward, her smile sharp. “See? Nothing suspicious. Just technology. Innovation. A bit of fun.”
Ludger finally spoke, voice low and controlled.
“Our faster travel wasn’t meant to hide anything. We just adapted. Improved. Like any competent guild would.”
Eldric didn’t respond. Varik nodded slowly. Rufas watched with growing interest. And the room shifted again. Not toward guilt. Not toward innocence. But toward something far more dangerous for House Roderick: Doubt.
Rufas waited until the room settled again, then eased forward slightly, tapping one finger against the table—a subtle gesture, but enough to signal that he was shifting the direction of the conversation. His tone remained calm and composed, but there was a sharper edge beneath the professionalism now.
“There is something else I’ve been meaning to address,” he said. “I maintain informants across the Empire—not spies, simply individuals who report general guild movements, major caravans, unusual trade flows. It’s routine oversight. And until a few months ago, I received updates on the Lionsguard fairly consistently.”
He let that sink in before continuing.
“Recently, however… those reports have almost completely stopped. Your movements have become notably difficult to track. This isn’t criticism, I monitor several up-and-coming guilds. It is standard practice. But your guild’s sudden drop in visibility is unusual.”
Maurien’s posture stiffened just slightly. Kaela’s smile faltered before she forced it back into place. Viola shifted in her chair, thoughtful but not surprised. And Ludger… sighed.
Everyone at the table reacted to that. Varik leaned forward as if bracing for a revelation. Rufas watched him intently. Eldric straightened in anticipation. They all thought Ludger was about to reveal the tunnels. Instead, he spoke evenly.
“We’ve been cutting travel time where we can,” he said. “Just like the mountain pass. You’ve seen that road, it used to take four days to cross. I fixed the terrain, reinforced chokepoints, and rerouted a few sections. Now it takes one.”
He lifted a shoulder in a small shrug.
“We’ve done similar things elsewhere. Cleared troublesome paths. Strengthened certain stretches of road. Fixed the spots where caravans kept getting attacked. None of it official. Just… shortcuts.”
The room eased a little, but Rufas kept studying him.
“I’ve heard the rumors,” Rufas admitted. “Stories about random patches of road being reinforced in the strangest places. No pattern. No announced project. Just… unexpected improvements. And all pointing toward travel efficiency.”
He leaned back, watching Ludger with calculated curiosity.
“But the Empire depends on major roads. If you can fix terrain that easily, why not improve the entire network?”
Ludger let out a soft snort.
“Because if you’re good at something,” he said, “you don’t do it for free.”
Kaela snorted in amusement. Maurien cracked a faint smile before smoothing his expression. Viola gave Ludger a sideways look that said: you are impossible, and yet somehow this still fits you perfectly.
Rufas didn’t smile, but the faint gleam in his eyes showed interest rather than suspicion.
“So the Lionsguard moves quickly because you have… customized routes.”
Ludger neither confirmed nor denied it. He simply crossed his arms and let the weight of silence do the talking.
Varik relaxed slightly; he had been expecting something more explosive. Eldric, on the other hand, stared at Ludger with visible frustration. He wanted a simple explanation, one that fit neatly into the suspicions he’d walked in with. Instead, the picture was getting more complicated by the minute.
And now Rufas was watching Ludger not with doubt… but with recognition. As if he was realizing that the Lionsguard wasn’t hiding crimes, they were hiding competence on a scale few expected from a frontier guild. Ludger imagined that he would have to explain this at some point, so he did that between trips in the first few months of deliveries to the league.
Rufas shifted his attention back to Eldric, his expression still polite but now carrying a firmness that hadn’t been present earlier. He folded his hands on the table, posture poised, voice smooth yet unmistakably decisive.
“I do not contest the authority of House Roderick,” Rufas began, tone respectful but edged. “Your family’s position is undeniable. However… this situation is more complicated than I initially anticipated.”
Eldric tensed, sensing something changing but not yet understanding how.
“So,” Rufas continued calmly, “I will be requesting the involvement of the Imperial Guard in this matter.”
Eldric’s eyes snapped wide open.
“The Imperial Guard?” he repeated, voice rising despite his attempt to control it. “Why? The Senate has far more resources. Our channels already handle these investigations,”
Rufas lifted a hand gently, cutting him off without raising his voice.
“The Senate has numbers, yes. But House Roderick also has deep ties within it. Influence. Connections. Political weight.” He paused. “The Imperial Guard, however, answers directly to the Emperor and the High Command. They are a neutral party in this affair. They have no allegiances to either your house or the Lionsguard.”
His words fell smoothly, every syllable measured.
“Involving them will keep the investigation clean. Transparent. Free of bias.”
The room went silent for a moment. Eldric’s jaw tightened. His expression twisted as he searched for an argument that wouldn’t make him look openly guilty, or foolish.
But nothing came.He opened his mouth, closed it again, then forced a tight nod. He clearly hated the idea but couldn’t push back without drawing suspicion. Ludger watched him without blinking. His glare stayed cold, sharp, dissecting every twitch in Eldric’s posture.
Because the moment Rufas mentioned Imperial Guard neutrality…Ludger remembered yet again the intel revealed: House Roderick had been manipulating the Senate from the shadows, they had most of it under control. And Ludger found himself staring at the young man across the table, wondering:
How the hell did this buffoon manage any of that?
He wasn’t the head of the house. He wasn’t particularly skilled at hiding lies. He wasn’t politically subtle. And he certainly wasn’t smart enough to orchestrate a continent-wide conspiracy. Which meant one thing, Eldric wasn’t the brains behind anything.
He was a front. A puppet. A shield. Someone else in House Roderick was pulling the strings. And Ludger marked that thought carefully in his mind.
Because after rescuing his guild members… he was going to find whoever held those strings. And snap them.