[System]
You are a skilled LitRPG progression fantasy author. Write chapters based on the story bible and instructions provided.

## Premise
Becoming the Dark Lord — a LitRPG progression fantasy. Luke jolted awake, his cheek tingling from having fallen asleep with his face on the ground. His mind was a storm, thoughts tangled and scattered. He glanced around, heart pounding. This... wasn’t his house.

## Main Character
Name: Luke | Gender: male (he/him)
Key supporting characters: He, Points, Luke’s

## World & Power System
level-based progression; class system; skills (e.g. Magnetic Return (Rare), Servant of the Dark Lord (Unique), Notice: Approaching First Floor, Basic Blade Handling (Common), Heavy Strike, You have learned a Class Skill, Servant of the Dark Lord, Basic Chameleon Skin (Uncommon)); stats (Perception, Strength, Intelligence, Endurance, Agility, Vitality)
System notification style: "System’s Annual Integration!]"

## Writing Style
third-person limited narration, past tense. Narration-focused (5% dialogue). Fast-paced, short punchy sentences.

[User]
Write Chapter 293: Blood Siege
Target length: ~3500 words
Key events: level-up occurs, class event, combat-heavy

[Assistant]
Luke had just finished telling Ronan what everyone else had known for weeks: the Beast Lord was dead. The commander stared at him, pale and rigid, fingers digging into the edge of the table. Disbelief still clung to his face when Luke produced the trophy, a massive fang from the monster, and set it down in front of him.

“So you all knew… and I was the only one who marched all this way terrified out of my mind?” Ronan’s voice wavered between astonishment and disbelief.

“Come on. It’s not like you’re exactly trustworthy. You were Bartholomew’s man,” Evangeline shot back, eyes steady.

“But Eleanor was too…” he countered.

Eleanor gave a slight shrug and let out a controlled sigh. “I told them to tell you, but everyone has their reasons. Things aren’t always that simple.”

Mason cut through the tension by sliding a map across the table. His fingers traced the scribbled routes. “Now you know the plan, Ronan. We don’t want to return to our Safe Zone carrying news that we’re about to send people to their possible deaths trying to capture the third fortress. We need motivation. We need hope. If we go back with proof the Beast Lord is already dead…”

Ronan drew in a slow breath and leaned back. “I get it. It’ll be a bigger spark for them. Even if I don’t agree, it’s the best way to keep the fire burning.”

“Motivation also drives them to push their professions, to level up. We’re just trying to nudge the ones still frozen in fear,” Allison added, her voice calm.

Ronan rubbed his face, exhausted. “Fine. But from now on, keep me in the loop. I said goodbye to my fiancée, you know. Told her there was a real chance I wouldn’t make it back.”

His eyes flicked toward Jack, leaning silently against the wall. “Wait… even he knew and I didn’t?”

Everyone nodded without a word.

Mason unfolded another map, this one a clean copy of Luke’s rough sketches, redrawn by a skilled cartographer. The markings were sharper now, almost professional. “Alright. Next priority is leveling up. Luke, any recommendations nearby?”

Luke’s mind flashed to the statues hidden in the city, but he pushed the thought aside. Best to focus on the beasts first. “We stick to the forest. Follow the river all the way to the city. Either way, we’re going to have to clear it out.”

“What’s your race level?” Evangeline asked, curiosity flickering in her eyes.

“Forty-eight,” Luke replied without hesitation.

“He’s almost there,” Mason murmured to her.

Then Mason looked around at the group, his expression turning firm. “Right now our focus is hitting level 60 in class so we can unlock a powerful epic skill. For some of you, that’s also going to mean reaching at least race level 50, like Luke.”

Luke was already at 58 in class. It would practically line up, two new skills waiting on the other side.

“I’m going to give you all a piece of advice about rank skills,” Mason went on, straightening his posture.

This was the part Luke had found most intriguing over the last few days.

“A rank skill is born from your greatest flaw and your greatest strength. It’s a two-edged blade, addictive to some once it awakens. That’s why you need to master your flaw. Think of something you know, deep down, is a problem inside you, then overcome it or at least keep it under control. That’s how you handle a rank skill.”

“Flaw?” Jack frowned. “Like being bad at something?”

“No,” Mason said with patience. “A flaw in your personality. Ask yourself one question: what’s my greatest flaw?”

The conversation drifted back to progression and mapping new zones, but Luke’s mind had already slipped elsewhere.

Something born of my flaw… what flaw do I even have? Nothing obvious came to mind. It couldn’t be something trivial like hating to wake up early. It had to be something big, a fracture deep in his personality or in the way he lived. A flaw by his own measure, or by everyone else’s?

Either way, Mason had said the system would reveal it when the time came.

***

An entire week had passed since the group had settled into this new stretch of the tutorial. Time moved differently here, the dense silence of the ruins, the constant whisper of wind through hollow structures, all of it gave the sense of a place suspended between worlds. They had divided their responsibilities with military precision: one team dedicated to leveling, another to mapping and exploration.

Luke had taken the lead on exploration. He was simply the best suited for it, with his stealth abilities and the angel mask that let him roam the city without triggering the statues. Most days it was just him and Princess Charlie, while the rest focused on training and hunting.

Lately, Luke had been stepping back, deliberately letting Charlie handle the undead. She needed the experience. Luke could have climbed faster, unlocking new skills at a steady pace, but he’d chosen to slow down for the sake of the group. That was the price and the strength of working as a team: everyone rose together, even if the individual climb took longer.

Still, Luke hadn’t stagnated. He’d gained levels of his own, edging toward the moment when two new skills would unlock at once. His stats now were almost unrecognizable compared to just a few weeks ago.

Name: Luke

Level: 49

Race: Half-Demon

Rank: F

Class: [Demonic Predator (Lvl 59)]

Profession: [Guardian Botanist of Mother Freya (Lvl 60)]

Titles: [Dark Lord]

Bloodline: [Bloodline of the Dark Demon]

Health Points (HP): 4263/4270

Mana Points (MP): 4423/(4940)

Stamina: 2373/(2890)

Soul Fragments: 104/1000

Stats:

Strength: 680

Agility: 492 (542)

Endurance: 269 (289)

Vitality: 427

Perception: 450 (460)

Intelligence: 489 (494)

Free Points: 0

Class Skills: [Advanced Blade Handling (Uncommon)], [Profane Knife Throwing (Uncommon)], [Twin Blade (Common)], [Basic Dark Dash (Rare)], [Basic Blood Regeneration (Rare)], [Predator’s Mark (Rare)], [Demonic Blade Dance (Rare)], [Wraith Form (Ultra-Rare)], [Force Infusion (Rare)], [Advanced Stealth (Rare)], [Assassin’s Tracking (Rare)], [Mana Infusion (Rare)], [Basic Archery (Common)]

Profession Skills: [Herbology of Mother Freya (Ancient)], [Precise Extraction (Common)], [Basic Potion Crafting (Common)], [Corrupted Plant Growth (Rare)], [Plant Sensor (Uncommon)], [Botanical Bond of Mother Freya (Rare)], [Seed Conversion (Rare)], [Plant Manipulation of Mother Freya (Rare)], [Corrupted Blood of Mother Freya (Ultra-Rare)], [Thorn Mutation (Uncommon)], [Soil Analysis (Uncommon)], [Botanical Purification (Uncommon)], [Acid Blood Arrow (Epic)]

Race Skills: [Identify (Common)], [Demonic Perception (Uncommon)], [Dark Blood (Uncommon)], [Meditation (Common)], [Demonic Endurance (Uncommon)]

Bloodline Skill: [Servant of the Dark Lord (Unique)]

Servants: [Princess Charlie (Skeleton) - Lvl 40], [Servant Slot Available]

Luke dumped every free point from his level 59 class upgrade, plus the spare point from his level 49 race milestone, straight into Intelligence. His mana pool swelled like a reservoir after a storm. He was inches from cracking the 5,000 mark now—enough to launch five Acid Arrows back-to-back without blinking. Just thinking about it gave him a thrill. With that kind of firepower, he could tear through crowds on his own.

[Princess Charlie has slain a …]

**The [Pugilist] 2nd Class of Princess Charlie has reached Level 41! (+3 Strength, +2 Endurance, +2 Agility, +2 Vitality, +2 Perception, +2 Intelligence, +2 Free Points.)**

Luke vaulted off a crumbling rooftop. Below, Princess Charlie and Eleanor were cutting through the last of the monsters. Charlie had made massive strides. At level 40 her pugilist build had bloomed into something dangerous, unlocking a skill born from a simple choice she had made months earlier.

[Flame Aura (Rare)]: Harnessing the power of [Flame], the brawler’s body is wrapped in a shimmering layer of fire that boosts their strength and agility, making their movements faster and their strikes far more powerful. The released energy leaves a blazing trail in the air with every motion, which can disorient enemies.

Charlie was already moving like a storm. He watched her explode into a sprint, triggering Flame Fist, her hands igniting in a fierce, rippling blaze. She drove a punch into a statue, shattering it into jagged shards that clattered across the ground. Undead crowded in and she tore through them bare-handed, each strike trailing fire, each hit leaving burning marks in its wake.

When she finally slowed, her stance stayed high, fists raised like a fighter in the ring. The flames around her hands went out first, then the shimmering aura across her body faded away. The synergy of her skills was terrifying. She also loved pairing Fire Aura with Steel Fist, the raw power stacking into something almost unfair. Hard to believe she’d once been a fragile skeleton. Now she was a walking weapon. She spotted more enemies ahead and charged toward them without hesitation, one blazing fist cocked back for the next hit.

Off in the distance, Luke muttered, “I’ve basically turned into support at this point.”

“She’s having fun,” Eleanor replied, a quiet smile playing at her lips as she drew an arrow.

Luke kept scanning the area, senses sharp. They were near the edge of the forest, still inside the ruined capital.

“So your name, does it come from that old movie?” Eleanor asked, easing the tension.

“Yeah. Star Wars,” Luke said, a quick grin flickering across his face.

They walked side by side through the hushed streets.

“In a way, I’m basically a Jedi,” he joked, pulling a kukri from his inventory and tossing it down the street. The blade clanged against the stone. “Watch this.” He extended his hand; the kukri whipped back to him like a boomerang, drawn by magnetism. “See? I’ve got the Force.”

“Cute,” Eleanor murmured, arching a brow.

Princess Charlie came back, approaching them. For some reason, she didn’t seem to like leaving Luke alone with Eleanor. Charlie opened the system interface and, pretending it was nothing, showed Luke the free points.

Name: Princess Charlie

Level: 40

Race: Skeleton

Rank: F

Class: Death Knight (Lvl 48)

2nd Class: Pugilist (Lvl 41)

Title: [Servant of the Dark Lord]

Health Points (HP): 2603/2690

Mana Points (MP): 1837/2130

Stamina: 2509/(3010)

Stats:

Strength: 416 (486)

Agility: 215

Endurance: 261 (301)

Vitality: 269

Perception: 176

Intelligence: 213

Free Points: 21

Class Skills: [Basic Weapon Handling (Common)], [Heavy Strike (Common)], [Basic Spectral Charge (Rare)], [Crescent Slash (Uncommon)], [Whirlwind Strike (Uncommon)], [Spectral Chain (Rare)], [Spectral Barrier (Rare)], [Doomblade (Rare)], [Mark of Doom (Rare)], [Force Infusion (Rare)], [Doom Explosion (Rare)], [Spectral Soldier (Ultra-Rare)]

Second Class Skills: [Advanced Hand-to-Hand (Uncommon)], [Steel Fist (Rare)], [Stunning Punch (Uncommon)], [Battle Roar (Uncommon)], [Concentrated Kick (Uncommon)], [Power Punch (Uncommon)], [Pugilist’s Leap (Uncommon)], [Muscle Reading (Uncommon)], [Movement Echo (Uncommon)], [Flame (Common)], [Flame Fist (Rare)], [Flame Aura (Rare)]

Race Skills: [Demonic Servant Perception (Uncommon)], [Basic Bone Regeneration (Rare)], [Bone Endurance (Rare)], [Iron Bones (Ultra-Rare)]

Rune Skill: [Berserker Flames (Rare)]

He handled the point allocation for Charlie. She still preferred to let him do it, choosing skills and distributing stats. Rarely did she ever show real interest in those details herself.

Stats Updated (Princess Charlie):

Strength: 416 (486) -> 426 (496)

Vitality: 269 -> 280

Free Points: 21 -> 0

Health Points (HP): 2603/2690 -> 2713/2800

Luke couldn’t ignore the big drawback of Charlie running two classes. Death XP had to be split between them. If it weren’t for that, she would have already maxed out her class or at least be standing shoulder to shoulder with him at nearly level sixty.

He wanted her to reach her epic skill as soon as possible. In terms of pure attribute gains, leveling her pugilist class had been worth it, low XP cost and generous stat rewards. But once it hit the higher tiers, the experience curve spiked, slowing down her Death Knight progress.

Now that she had finally pushed the second class to level forty, he had decided it was time to shift gears. From here on out, he would tell her to focus exclusively on using the sword. That way, all the XP would funnel into the Death Knight class and level it faster. If she could hit level fifty, the class would evolve, her stat gains would skyrocket, and she would finally unlock her epic skill, a massive leap forward in power.

***

After several more hours they finally made it back to Luke’s hideout in the cave. It was rough but secure, cold stone walls, torches wedged into iron brackets, and a makeshift table buried under maps, notes, and supplies. The air smelled of damp earth, but there was a strange comfort to it, the feel of a refuge carved out of the dark.

Everyone gathered inside. Allison broke the silence first.

“Any word from Jerry?”

“Everything’s fine in the Safe Zone. Bartholomew hasn’t moved,” Evangeline replied, arms folded.

“See?” Ronan tried to sound casual.

“Just being careful,” Evangeline shot back.

They spent the next few minutes running through assignments, progress updates, and the most dangerous points on the map. Yet underneath it all, one subject kept pulling at them like a tide: the third fortress. It had become the fixed point in every conversation, a distant beacon daring them to test their limits.

In the end they agreed, at the very least, to scout it. Luke didn’t bother hiding his eagerness to go back. At the same time, they wanted to try a new route, the river that cut through the city like a vein of dark water.

***

Two sturdy wooden boats waited at the riverbank, each able to hold about ten people. Even so, they split the group to keep the weight balanced.

“Maybe she should take off the armor?” Ronan suggested, glancing at Charlie.

“She prefers it this way. Right, Charlie?” Luke asked.

Charlie gave a small, impassive nod.

Luke’s boat carried himself, Charlie, Jack, and Allison. In the other were Ronan, Evangeline, Eleanor, and Mason. It worked out neatly: each boat had an archer and a semi-mage, with Allison in Luke’s boat and Mason in the other, ready to throw spells if needed.

“The current flows straight through the city,” Jack noted, eyeing the slow churn of the dark water.

They pushed off side by side, letting the current pull them forward. This was just a test run, to see if the river really was a safe passage.

“If you spot a crocodile, call it out,” Evangeline joked to Eleanor, who was firing perception arrows into the water. The magic didn’t reach far beneath the surface, but it helped.

Luke noticed Jack gripping the boat with one hand, his wand clutched tight in the other, leg bouncing like a drumstick.

“Afraid of crocodiles?” Luke asked.

“I, I’m afraid of open water. Rivers, oceans, not my thing. I do not want to fall in, I definitely do not want some giant kraken from the depths to drag us under into the darkness,” Jack blurted, panic edging his voice.

“Hey, hey,” Evangeline cut in. “Don’t jinx us. Breathe.”

“It’s still true,” he muttered, trying not to hyperventilate.

“The biggest monster was the Beast Lord, and it’s dead. If anything else shows up, we’ll handle it,” Luke said evenly.

Jack drew a shaky breath. “But I can’t swim if we go overboard.”

Luke stared at the dark water. He had no idea how deep it went but decided not to push the conversation.

“It took me about eight hours to walk from the forest to the fortress. At this speed, by boat, maybe half that, four hours. Quick,” he calculated aloud.

“I don’t know about quick,” Jack murmured, squeezing his eyes shut and inching away from the edge. “This river’s dark. Doesn’t feel safe at all.”

***

Undead dotted the forest’s edge, easily dropped by Eleanor’s arrows. Once they slipped into the urban stretch, darkness swallowed everything. Only the cold gleam of the moon skated across the water. They lit lanterns and set them in the center of the boats, casting trembling pools of yellow over wet planks.

“Every now and then you can hear it… footsteps, guttural noises,” Mason muttered, eyes scanning the shadows.

The current slowed, forcing them to row.

“Looks like the river cuts through a lot of trouble,” Allison said, peering at the streets drifting past.

It did. No statues, no undead drifting in the water.

“Feels almost like a road someone built on purpose,” Eleanor murmured. “Two Safe Zones linked by a river ending at the Capital’s gate… and beyond the barrier, it keeps running straight toward the third fortress.”

Luke stayed quiet, eyes sweeping each alley and ruin, every sense tuned tight.

“This isn’t coincidence,” Allison went on. “A tutorial’s meant to be beaten. There’s always a hidden route, some logic to the maze. Follow it long enough and you start seeing the end.”

“For five years… maybe I wasted my time,” Ronan said with a bitter laugh.

“Try eight,” Evangeline replied dryly.

“At least I met my fiancée,” Ronan offered.

Luke shot him a look across the boats. “You actually had the guts to date one of those assassin maids?”

“Finally, someone said it,” Mason muttered.

“I was thinking the same thing. That’s bold,” Jack added.

Luke’s mind flicked with Artemis’s voice: ‘Interested in maids, are we? Back on your scumbag phase or just indulging a fetish?’

Quiet. Just curious.

Ronan cleared his throat, embarrassed. “When I met her, she was just a normal woman… later she joined Erza’s organization.”

“That woman freaks me out,” Jack said. “Every time we talk about her, I feel like she’s right behind us listening. Gives me chills.”

Before the conversation could spiral, Allison stood, unfolding a map.

“This is it,” she announced.

Both boats glided to the silent bank. One by one, they climbed the moss-slick stones and stored the boats in their storage item.

“It’s right there at the end of the street… I don’t believe it,” Evangeline breathed.

They stared at the looming walls of the third fortress. The air felt sharper, colder. None of them could quite hide the edge of anticipation crawling over their skin.

***

Bartholomew sat in his Bastion office. The room was large but unnervingly quiet. The only steady sounds were the wind slipping through the narrow windows and the soft clink of liquid hitting glass as he poured another drink. Heavy piles of sealed reports and letters littered the oak desk, a half-empty bottle standing among them.

He sat hunched, not like a triumphant ruler but a man drained of victories, eyes fixed on the surface of his glass. He knew he had already lost, not in open battle, but in something far deeper: morale.

For years, Bartholomew had lived off his own cleverness. Always two steps ahead of Marshall, predicting every move, spinning contingencies within contingencies. He had spent years in fear, hiding in shadows without ever surrendering the plan. He had been the symbol of progress, the one chance at going home, and for that the majority had followed him.

But when the Haven claimed the second fortress, reality had finally broken through. He had seen every outcome, played every scenario. There was no real way to stop them. Even if he fought, unleashed force, fear, mercenaries, at best he could stall a month, maybe three. And in doing so he would turn everyone against him. It was the curse of being too smart: seeing the future moves and knowing, sooner or later, the board would swallow you whole.

“At least I tried, cousin,” he muttered to Kruger, who stood silent in the corner like a statue. “At least I stalled them for eight years.”

He took another drink. The burn in his throat gave no relief.

“How’s the second Safe Zone? Jonathan still watching?” His voice barely lifted.

“Jonathan’s inside. From what I see, everything’s moving as planned. Supplies arrived, no disruptions,” Kruger replied, deep voice almost mechanical.

Bartholomew rose slowly and drifted to the window. Outside, the Safe Zone looked smaller than ever. A few figures moved through the main square, but most had already migrated to the second Safe Zone.

“They’ve been gone a week now, holed up in that new section of the tutorial, leaving this place guarded only by Haven members,” he said with a mix of contempt and fatigue.

He took two steps back. “And we have no interest in that second Safe Zone.”

The late light cut long shadows across the stone floor. He exhaled. “Everything ready?”

“Just waiting on your word,” Kruger said, straightening.

Bartholomew turned. The cold gleam in his eyes left no doubt. “Then go. Gather your assassins. Kill every last one of them. No one from that expedition comes back alive.”

Kruger gave a small nod and slipped from the room. Bartholomew turned back to the window, speaking almost to himself.

“King Bartholomew publicly backed and invested everything to bring people back to Earth. But, sadly, Allison Rhiannon, Commander Ronan, and the rest perished on their mission…” He paused, tasting the bitterness in the words. “That’s how I make sure everyone else is too afraid to try.”

The wind filled the silence once again. Bartholomew raised his glass and drained the last of it in a single pull.

[User]
Write Chapter 294: Deadly Fortress Mission
Target length: ~2300 words

[Assistant]
The group moved down the wide avenue toward the fortress. The sky above hung heavy and gray, and the stretched shadows of ancient buildings gave the path a cemetery feel. On either side, endless rows of petrified statues formed a silent corridor. Stone warriors, frozen mid-snarl, towered over them with weapons poised as if ready to strike the next intruder.

Luke led the way, recounting in a low, steady voice how he had survived the last challenge. His words came like a distant narrator, calm on the surface but carrying the weight of memories. Images of the capital flashed through his mind like lightning: nighttime ambushes, the chill of empty alleys, fear pressing just beneath the mask of control.

“So you crossed the city through a sea of patrolling statues, killing everything stealth-style… and then fought a stone angel?” Ronan asked, still trying to piece together everything Luke had revealed.

“In short… something like that,” Luke replied, offering no more than necessary.

Ronan watched him from behind, intrigued despite himself. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t hide his shock.

“I’ve got to admit,” Mason said, arms crossed as they walked, “I don’t think an average person could survive what you went through.” He lifted his gaze to Luke. “But the Beast Lord—how did you kill that giant serpent?”

Luke looked at the necklace and saw, inside its pocket dimension, the Familiar Rune glowing.

“That’s a secret I’ll take to the grave.”

He and Franky might not get along very well, but both silently agreed never to talk about how the fight had really ended. Making the enemy get diarrhea mid-battle to land a killing blow didn’t exactly sound like a legendary tale to tell.

For a heartbeat the serpent’s engraving on the pendant flickered with light, then went dark. The whole group looked at Luke, hoping for a hint.

“The Beast Lord part,” Luke said firmly, “like I told you, is a secret. All that matters is it’s dead.”

They moved on in silence, careful not to brush against the statues. The air itself seemed to press down on them, a weight you could almost feel in your bones.

“Luke,” Allison called, breaking the hush. “What are the odds you’ve already done the conquest challenge for the third fortress without realizing it?”

Everyone stopped for a beat, glancing at one another. Luke looked back at her. “What do you mean?”

“To take each fortress you had to finish an event by killing whoever ruled it,” Allison explained, ticking off points on her fingers. “First fortress, Evangeline and the others—new to the system—took down the Midnight Warden and his undead army. Second, we killed a Warden Captain and his garrison. wouldn’t be surprised if the challenge of the third one was to kill the Beast Lord and the angel statue that guarded the place while fighting through her army.”

Luke frowned. He’d never thought of it that way. The logic felt absurd, yet it clicked. All eyes were on him now, waiting.

“Makes sense,” he said at last, voice low as if to himself.

It was like a puzzle piece sliding into place. He remembered every step, every fight, every retreat. Could it be that, without realizing it, he’d already completed the third fortress event?

“Makes sense?” Evangeline echoed, quickening her pace, eyes flashing with sudden realization. “I knew it! Only an idiot would head straight for the hardest spot in the low-level tutorial.”

She broke into a run, hair streaming behind her.

“Luke, if you really did this… I don’t know whether to hug you or laugh,” she called, both amused and nervous.

“Why is she running?” Jack asked, bewildered.

There was no time for an answer. One by one the others broke into a run, swept up in the sudden realization. The thud of boots echoed through the statue-lined corridor like war drums.

If Allison was right, the third mechanism had been within reach all along, hiding in plain sight through every grim day they had spent in this city.

“If this turns out to be true, I can’t believe I wasted another week here!” Eleanor shouted, sprinting just behind.

Luke hesitated for a heartbeat, but instinct won. He took off as well, racing past the silent ranks of stone warriors along the same route he had described to the group. They passed the warhorn, the one Luke had explained, the one the angel could have used to wake the sleeping army.

The fortress loomed ahead like a stone giant.

They slowed when the main building came into view. The walls were so high they seemed to scrape the heavy sky, each block etched with the memory of sieges long past. Huge wooden doors with iron fittings stood slightly ajar, unlike the last time Luke had tried to enter. Back then, a magical barrier had demanded the second mechanism’s activation. Now the path lay open, silent and unnervingly inviting.

“This is it. Our shot at going home,” Evangeline said, stopping at the doors.

Ronan stepped forward, looking over the group with a serious expression. “Swear to me you’re not going to trigger that thing inside. I came to help and to make sure you don’t get anyone killed doing it.

Allison glanced at him with a faint, dry smile. “Do you think we’re insane enough to try? Even if we were, you think we’d survive everything in the way with just us?”

Ronan exhaled hard. “I just needed to hear it.”

Luke approached the doorway. Mason’s voice was low, cautious. “You’re really going in like this?”

“What, you’re going to tell me there’s a giant snake in there or a four-armed angel?” Luke shot back over his shoulder. “They’re all dead already.”

Evangeline came to stand beside him. “We know the plan,” she murmured, eyes fixed on the dark interior of the fortress.

From the start they had planned for Luke and Evangeline to enter first. Their skills gave them the edge: shifting bodies, slipping through sealed doors, weaving into places others couldn’t. If something powerful was inside, at least they had a chance to get out alive, the rest of the group didn’t.

Luke and Evangeline drew in deep breaths and darted through. The air inside was colder, thicker, carrying the scent of wet stone and rusted iron. The fortress felt like a warped reflection of Bastion and the Haven fortress, its hallways almost identical yet dimmed, silent, filled with invisible echoes.

“Any sign of danger, we pull out,” Evangeline whispered, her senses stretched to the limit.

“You’d really run from just a Warden?” Luke asked with a raised brow.

She let out a short, nervous laugh, and they pushed on. As the corridors narrowed and the light dwindled, their pace slowed, each step more deliberate.

The hall leading to their target lay ahead. They both drew a deep breath, trading a brief, wordless glance. Find the mechanism door, grab the quest, and get out.

When they reached it, an immense double door towered before them. Luke stepped up and at that instant, a notification flared across his vision.

**The Third Fortress Quest**

Congratulations, brave explorer of this world. You have reached this weak and desolate place. You survived the perils of the Wild Zone, claimed your own Safe Zone by taking the first fortress for yourself and uncovered the threat of the Three Lords yet you did not falter.

This fortress was once watched over by a massive serpent and guarded by a Stone Angel, both of which you have successfully defeated. It was once the main base of the King’s forces before they withdrew to the castle to prepare for the final battle.

However, it seems three soldiers have remained behind to protect the third mechanism at all costs.

Objective: Eliminate the three Warden Captains stationed in the fortress.

Progress: 0/3.

***

Luke and Evangeline came back to the group, their eyes carrying the confirmation everyone had been waiting for. The moment they crossed back over the fortress threshold, the tension rippled through the rest of the team like a cold draft.

“There are still three of those things?” Mason asked, his tone slow and deliberate, as if he needed to hear it again to believe it.

Jack, Eleanor, and Ronan didn’t know much about the enemy, only what had been told to them in the account of the second fortress invasion.

“So that’s it,” Ronan muttered, running a hand through his hair. “We head back to the second Safe Zone, pick a team of the strongest volunteers, then come back here prepared. What do you think, Eleanor?”

She pressed her lips together, weighing it.

But Luke kept his eyes on the fortress. “Go back, lose days just to return here later?” His voice held a hard edge. “You can go if you want. I’m finishing this challenge.”

Jack’s eyes went wide.

“Just three, right?” Allison asked. “No one supporting them?”

That was exactly Luke’s thinking. Level-seventy monsters, yes, but only three of them, no Warden army. He and Charlie were far stronger than before. If they had taken down the Stone Angel as a two-man strike, they could plan around these three as well.

“But why three monsters like that?” Evangeline narrowed her eyes. “It doesn’t add up.”

“One for each fortress?” Eleanor suggested.

“Or maybe it’s a hint,” Allison murmured, almost to herself.

Everyone turned toward her.

“It’s the tutorial’s way of warning us,” she said, voice low but certain. “Showing we’ll face more Warden Captains at the final event. It’s prepping us to understand the threat level and the numbers we’ll be dealing with.”

Mason nodded slowly. “That… actually makes sense.”

Jack glanced at each face, trying to gauge if they were truly ready to risk this much. “You really want to take on three of them with just us?”

“And you think the final event will be easy?” Mason shot back.

Jack shook his head. “At least then we’ll have an army, a real siege plan, long-range attacks. Don’t forget, I’m a healer, not a fighter. I’m nowhere near as efficient as you in combat, and I don’t have a weapon like yours.”

Something heavy flew toward Jack before he could finish. He caught it on instinct. It was a massive axe, its weight vibrating up his arms.

“Got this when I killed a minotaur,” Luke said. “With strength infusion and your lumberjack skills, you’re a warrior now. Congrats, you’re as useful as the rest of us. Just don’t break my axe.”

He clapped Jack on the shoulder, transferring the item through the system.

[An item has been removed from your inventory]

“If you drop it midfight, you can pull it back through the system,” Luke added.

Jack blinked, stunned. “T-thanks.”

Ronan, who had been quiet, finally spoke. “So we’re really doing this?”

“Come on, Bartholomew’s enforcer,” Evangeline teased, giving his shoulder a playful smack. “You thought you’d kill the Beast Lord on this mission. Three tin soldiers should be nothing.”

He nodded, still grave. “I just thought we were here to study the Beast Lord and reach the third mechanism. But you’re right, fighting a giant snake would’ve been harder.”

Eleanor stepped forward. “Good. I’ve got experience running teams to eliminate high-value targets. How do we want to do this? I’m guessing we’ll have to split up.”

Silence fell for a moment, each of them conjuring a mental picture of what lay ahead. Slowly, strategies began to surface, voices trading ideas in a measured rhythm, each detail sketching the shape of the coming battle.

***

Allison’s gaze locked on Luke. “So that’s it? You’re sure? No room for regrets after this.”

“It’s a good split,” Luke said, steady and unflinching.

Everyone turned toward him.

“That was me hinting at you,” Allison added. “You’ve fought one of these things before, but it was only one, and only after we’d cracked its armor with our trap. You’re really planning to go in with just the two of you?”

“We make a good team,” Luke answered, and Charlie raised a thumb in silent agreement.

They drew a collective breath, then sprinted into the third fortress, each of them already owning their assigned roles. The teams split up with one frontline fighter to engage the Warden Captain directly and the others providing support.

Team One was Ronan, Evangeline, and Jack. The plan was brutal but clear. Ronan was their tank, wielding a blacksmith’s epic profession skill that turned his skin to living iron. It made him monstrously powerful, especially combined with his mastery of stamina, but at a cost, his health bled away every second, the iron skin eating at him like a curse. He’d burn through mana and life alike in berserker mode.

His job was to lock horns with the Warden Captain, while Evangeline focused on pure damage, using her epic-class skill to bind the monster with shadow hands so Ronan could strike. Jack would heal him during the onslaught, not enough to keep the berserker state forever, but enough to buy the precious extra minutes they needed to bring the monster down.

Team Two was Allison, Mason, and Eleanor. Their tactics echoed the second fortress. Allison would slash deep with her katana, piercing armor and freezing joints, while Mason unleashed his lineage trump card, combining his profession’s epic skill with fireball magic to create something like a fireball machine gun. Eleanor stayed at range, bow in hand, sniping weak points and lining up a killing shot through the Warden’s helm.

Team Three was Luke and Charlie. Their strategy was stripped to the bone: Charlie tanked, Luke dealt the damage. Only two of them, yes, but Luke knew that if it came down to it he could take on all three Wardens himself. His drive to get back to Earth was that fierce.

And they weren’t completely alone. There was, after all, one more member who would emerge in the battle… the spectral orc Morvat.

[User]
Write Chapter 295: Demonic Predator’s Dominion
Target length: ~1600 words
Key events: combat-heavy

[Assistant]
The group moved in silence through the fortress’s new corridors. Every footstep echoed faintly against smooth stone, each of them acutely aware of the sound they were making. Unlike the old fortress, there were no alarms or mechanical triggers, just a dense hush and the electric weight of an ambush waiting to happen. Torches flickered on the walls, their flames casting restless shadows that warped the depth of the passageways.

“You’re sure this plan will work?” Ronan’s voice carried a taut edge.

They stopped at a crossroad. The air here felt colder, tinged with rust and damp, as if the walls themselves were swallowing every word. Evangeline studied each hall and archway before answering.

“I’m sure. Even without alarms, these things like to slaughter anything that gets near the mechanism. That makes Luke and me the most obvious targets.” She allowed a thin smile. “So we’ll use that against them.”

“But you said these bastards turn invisible. We won’t even know if they’re right next to us,” Ronan muttered, tightening his grip on his weapon.

The seven of them formed a tight ring, backs together, covering every angle. It was the most defensible spot they’d found in the fortress’s labyrinthine layout, but still a choke point. Eyes swept each corridor. Muscles stayed wired, waiting for the first flash of movement.

Charlie drew her blade from the inventory. The black metal seemed to drink in the surrounding light as she activated its enchantment.

[Midnight Sword (Ultra-Rare)

Description: A blade as black as the night itself, forged from the same shadowed steel used by the Midnight Wardens. It once belonged to a Captain, whose strength and discipline still echo within the blade. The steel is hard and unyielding, making it not only a deadly weapon but also a symbol of authority and fear.

[Shield Form (Ultra-Rare): The blade can transform into a round shield of black steel, equally resilient, providing unshakable defense in critical moments.

Requirement: Level 35+ in any Fighter class.]

“Don’t forget about the spear. They could throw it at us,” Jack said, eyes darting between passageways.

“The Warden Captain we’ve seen only carries a sword. But even if it does have a spear, the instant it throws, it loses invisibility. That’s our window,” Luke replied, voice steady.

Jack swallowed hard. “I just don’t know if I can dodge in time. I’m not agile, I’m not built to take a hit. I’m wearing a robe, not armor.”

“Then hope it sticks to the sword,” Luke said, half serious, half teasing.

“That’s not exactly reassuring,” Jack muttered, clenching his wand.

The formation stayed tight. The silence thickened, broken only by the faint clink of steel when someone shifted their stance. The cold stone walls turned every sound into an echo, like whispers from unseen mouths. Even breathing felt too loud.

Then came the sound of heavy metal footsteps, slow, measured, coming from more than one direction.

“It’s in front of me!” Mason raised his shield.

Another sound snapped from the left corridor.

“Got one on my side!” Allison crouched slightly, ready to strike.

Eleanor held her bowstring tight but didn’t fire. Too early and she’d give up her shot. The seven of them traded quick glances, no one sure where the first strike would land. The creatures were there, invisible, stalking them like predators in their own den.

More footsteps now, fast and sure, heading straight toward Luke’s position.

“Third one’s on me!” he called out.

And then, just as suddenly as it began, the noise stopped. Silence reclaimed the hall. The Wardens were in position, waiting to spring. The moment they had anticipated and dreaded had arrived.

Charlie raised her shield and the spectral barrier shimmered into existence in front of Luke, a translucent veil quivering like liquid glass. The air grew heavy, vibrating with energy. Eleanor used the moment to draw stamina into her arrow, while Ronan lifted his massive shield, bracing for impact.

The hush lasted only a heartbeat. A sharp crack snapped to the right and the first Warden appeared out of nowhere, a ripple in the air, like heat above stone, before slamming into the barrier. Eleanor released her arrow, the shaft roaring through the distortion. Ronan intercepted a strike with his shield, sparks skidding off the stone where an invisible blade had missed him by inches.

The rest of the group reacted without hesitation. Charlie swung the shield in a tight arc, releasing a surge of force from its edge that drove the enemy back. In the same instant, she transformed her shield into a sword and struck forward. The blade bit into something unseen, the hard metallic crunch of armor proving it was there.

Luke fixed his eyes on the target and loosed a mana-infused arrow. The projectile burst in a flare of white light, tearing a seam through the distortion. In one fluid motion, he hurled a kukri spinning like a black star until it struck home with a dull, wet thud.

The three Wardens staggered back, slamming into the walls with echoing crashes. Invisible, but no longer untouchable, each carried a mark betraying its position: one with Luke’s kukri buried in its shoulder, another glowing where Allison’s katana burned against its armor, and the third skewered by Evangeline’s spear through its flank. Even hidden, they were shadows pinned by steel.

“This one’s going for me!” Evangeline shouted, leaping back as the weapon floated toward her.

“And this one’s on me!” Luke twisted aside, already moving to flank.

They split without thinking, instincts snapping into place. The team had to figure out which Warden would focus on which fighter before they could divide and crush them. The third Warden lunged after Luke but was intercepted by a combined strike from Allison and Mason, followed by Eleanor’s pin-sharp arrows. The corridor erupted into steel on steel, muted grunts, and the crackle of magic.

Luke didn’t wait to see the fight end. His boots slapped against stone as he bolted down a side passage into the inner garden. Columns lined the space, the ground a patchwork of beaten earth and low shrubs, a strange oasis inside the fortress. Light streamed from high skylights, falling in dusty golden beams.

Charlie was right behind him, her flaming aura flickering across the plates of her armor. She struck from behind, hammering the Warden Captain with brutal precision. The enemy, invisible but betrayed by the kukri still lodged in its flesh, followed close, heavy steps marking its pursuit across the dirt.

The kukri trembled, then snapped back to Luke’s hand under magnetic pull. He drew a steady breath, lifting his bow as Charlie lunged again.

A notification blinked across his vision:

[Mark of Doom Activated]

The creature would now take 10% more damage.

Charlie stretched out her hand and summoned her spectral soldier. A dense cloud swirled over the ground before hardening into the cracked form of an orc, green fissures pulsing between plates of ghostly armor. Morvat had arrived. The Warden Captain’s roar thundered across the garden, invisible but close, each step denting the earth and betraying its position.

“Looks like it’s just us,” Luke muttered, glancing at Charlie.

The monster lunged with a guttural snarl, its unseen sword slicing an arc through the air. Luke reacted instantly, pointing his hand toward the ground. Barbed roots burst upward, snaring the creature’s legs. Charlie activated Spectral Charge and drove her sword where she guessed its torso was. A muffled metallic howl reverberated. The roots snapped as the sword gouged the dirt and vanished again.

At the last second, Charlie shifted the blade into its round shield form and caught the strike from nowhere. The impact rattled her arm but held. Morvat vaulted in, Battle Frenzy igniting as he clambered onto the enemy’s back and hammered the invisible helmet, each blow ringing like a smith’s hammer against iron.

Luke watched the orc get hurled into a wall, fragments of spectral energy scattering in the air. He moved before hesitation could set in, capitalizing on the distraction.

He pulled his bow from the inventory, the other hand already shaping an Acid Blood Arrow while tracking the Warden Captain’s faint silhouette. A green glow began condensing as the arrow formed from his plant-based skills. This was the strongest version he could craft.

Notifications flashed in rapid sequence:

[Health Points (HP): 4270/4270]

[Health Points (HP): -100]

[Health Points (HP): 4170/4270]

[Mana Points (MP): 4873/(4940)]

[Mana Points (MP): -1500]

[Mana Points (MP): 3373/(4940)]

Luke steadied his aim at where he knew the target had to be. The arrow’s power transformed its acidic core into something far deadlier. He wasn’t done yet. Layer by layer, he wove Mana Infusion into the arrow’s frame, then Force Infusion on top of that.

[Mana Points (MP): 3373/(4940)]

[Mana Points (MP): -800]

[Stamina: 2863/(2890)]

[Stamina: -1000]

The bow trembled under his grip, fissures creeping along the limbs as the energy climbed to its peak, right to the edge of what the weapon could bear. Across the clearing, Charlie held her round shield high, keeping the enemy’s focus locked on her.

Too late, the creature sensed the danger. The earth beneath its boots sagged under the roots, marking the exact spot. Luke inhaled, holding the arrow until it became a line of pure light, then let the string snap free.

This new combination of the Acid Blood Arrow at its most powerful version, reinforced with Mana Infusion and Force Infusion, he named Acid Burst Arrow.

[User]
Write Chapter 296: Acid Burst Arrow
Target length: ~1900 words
Key events: level-up occurs, combat-heavy

[Assistant]
The arrow on Luke’s bow pulsed with such intense energy it seemed to vibrate in the air, white-blue light coursing along the shaft like veins of living fire. The drawn string gave off a low, almost musical hum as the magic built.

He drew in a deep breath, feeling the mana burn through his fingers and up his arm, focusing every fragment of strength into that single shot. Then he released. The arrow snapped forward with a sharp crack. A white streak lit the space for an instant. The impact wasn’t just a sound, it was a sensation, a flash that blinded for a moment as if the very air had been split apart.

The explosion followed, a white wave expanding in every direction and ricocheting off the massive stone walls. The projectile struck the Warden Captain at the heart of the detonation, a metallic crash reverberating with the heavy thud of armored mass slamming against stone. The floor shook. A sharp report echoed through the ceiling and arches. Heat gathered in the air, knocking dust from the corners of the chamber.

The smoke shifted color. A viscous green haze spread through the room as if it had a will of its own. The acid cloud crawled up the walls, flowers, moss, and ornaments dissolved like melting wax, dripping dark residue. A metallic, corrosive stench filled the air.

Luke, Charlie, and Morvat fell back to the edge of the garden.

He glanced down at Angélica’s bow in his hand. It was cracked, the string snapped. A little more mana and it would have been destroyed for good. He dismissed it back into his inventory to start repairs.

The three of them waited in the corner as the acid cloud devoured the space. Even Luke knew how lethal it was to breathe that stuff or get caught in it at all. It would corrode skin, eyes, lungs, everything. This new version even ate through clothes and metal.

A roar echoed inside the green fog. No death notification had appeared. The monster had survived.

Luke had already learned something new about this upgraded acid cloud: it dissipated faster than the standard version. After a few moments, the haze thinned and vanished. The creature stood there in full view now, sword in hand, no longer invisible. Its armor was almost completely gone, one arm missing, body pocked with holes from the blast and acid. The helmet hung in fragments, revealing twisted pieces of its face.

It reminded Luke of Nemesis, a villain from an old zombie game. Mutilated but not finished, the thing limped forward, sword gripped tight, eyes locked on him. Charlie raised her shield, the surface shifting back into a sword. The fight wasn’t over.

Luke spun the twin black kukris in his hands, activating the Demonic Blade Dance. The air around him rippled, as though his own shadow had torn loose. Ahead, the maimed Warden Captain roared and broke into a run, sword trembling with rage. Even crippled, its charge had weight and precision, each step like a hammer striking earth.

Charlie slid forward to intercept, her weapon shifting back into a shield. She braced for impact, deflecting the blade with a flawless block. Morvat darted in from the side and slammed into the creature, trying to throw it off balance. Brittle armor groaned under the collision. The Warden Captain spun, stabbing short and fast, the thrust grazing Charlie’s shoulder.

Luke moved in on the opening. Dark Dash carried him to the monster’s flank, his blades carving precise arcs. One strike slipped through an exposed gap, black blood spraying into the air. He hurled one kukri at its skull, but the Warden blocked with its sword and countered in a heavy lunge.

Charlie was there first, shield raised, absorbing the blow in a shower of sparks. The impact rattled her arm, but she didn’t budge. Morvat shoved the creature sideways, buying a sliver of space.

Luke stepped back, letting his two tanks handle it.

“At long last, you’ve grown up,” Artemis murmured.

Luke didn’t answer. He already had a plan. Charlie snapped her spectral chain forward, wrapping it around the creature’s arm and yanking hard. The Warden staggered, fighting to tear free. That was the opening they had been waiting for. Charlie charged with her blade held like a spear and drove it into the Captain’s skull. The impact rang out metallic, the blade sinking a few inches before grinding to a stop.

The monster lurched. The spectral orc leapt again but this time the enemy’s sword punched through its chest, shattering it into shards of green glass that dissolved into nothing. The creature raised its mutilated face, eyes burning with hate as it fixed on Luke and Charlie. Both of them fell back in perfect sync, sprinting out of the garden.

“Come get me!” Luke shouted, pulling it toward the corridor.

The Warden Captain roared and gave chase, limping, half its face gone and one arm missing, yet still fast, driven purely by rage. Charlie sent the sword embedded in the monster’s face to her inventory and pulled it back out. Metal scraped stone behind them, sparks flashing as wild swings slammed into the walls, always just missing.

Ahead, the corridor opened into the library, where another battle was already in full swing. Mason, Allison, and Eleanor were locked against their own Warden Captain. They turned, startled, as Luke and Charlie burst into the room with the mutilated one on their heels. There was no time to explain.

Luke rolled across the dark wood floor, narrowly dodging the strike following him in. The library loomed vast, lined with towering shelves stuffed with ancient books. The smell of scorched paper mingled with iron and sweat. Mason, Allison, and Eleanor fought hard, blades and arrows carving streaks of light as energy burst from each clash.

Behind him, the mutilated Warden staggered into the room with a guttural roar. Charlie was right behind, her shield already materialized. She didn’t need Luke to explain, she understood instantly.

“Charlie!” he shouted.

She lashed her spectral chain at the exact moment the Warden tried to strike. The pull wrenched the creature forward, off balance. Charlie was already moving, flowing into a sprint, sword ready to strike.

The enemy dropped to its knees. All Luke saw was Charlie’s blade cutting a perfect horizontal arc, a Force Infusion flaring along the edge. Half the Warden Captain’s skull split under the blow. She didn’t stop. Spectral Charge erupted around her, transforming her momentum into a mass of crushing energy that slammed the creature backward, straight into the other Warden Captain.

“Clear out!” Luke yelled.

The two Wardens crashed together in the center of the library with a thunderous impact. Charlie raised her hand, and for a heartbeat it burned red.

[Doomexplosion Activated]

When the monster’s HP hit zero, the Mark of Doom did its work. It flared across the mutilated Warden’s body like a pulsing rune. First a contraction. Then a black and red flash detonated outward, sweeping the room in a wave of hot, heavy air. Shelves shuddered, papers burst into flame under the surge of shadow energy. The creature’s roar broke into a strangled scream as its body unraveled into spectral fragments that rose and drifted down like glowing ash.

The shockwave tore through the library, slamming into the second Warden Captain. It stumbled back, armor twisting and peeling away, fissures spiderwebbing across its helm. Yet it didn’t fall. Two points of light, its eyes, blazed hotter in the dark. It staggered, tried to stand again, still upright out of sheer stubbornness.

[Princess Charlie has slain a Warden Captain – Lvl 70]

**[Princess Charlie has reached Level 41! Skeleton (Rank F)] (+1 bonus point to all attributes, +1 free point)**

*The [Death Knight] class of Princess Charlie has reached Level 49! (+3 Str, +3 End, +2 Agi, +2 Vit, +2 Int, +1 Per, +2 Free Points)*

**[Princess Charlie has reached Level 42! Skeleton (Rank F)] (+1 bonus point to all attributes, +1 free point)**

*The [Death Knight] class of Princess Charlie has reached Level 50! (+3 Str, +3 End, +2 Agi, +2 Vit, +2 Int, +1 Per, +2 Free Points)*

[WARNING: Princess Charlie’s class has entered Mandatory Evolution!]

The second Warden staggered in the center of the library, legs trembling, dark blood leaking through the fissures of its ruined armor. The afterglow of the Doomexplosion still burned against the walls, lighting the monster like an actor on a stage of shadow and embers.

Allison tightened her grip on the katana, the heat of the blade pulsing against her palms. She inhaled slowly, searching for balance. Around her, the library reeked of scorched paper; charred books slid from shelves, pages fluttering like dry leaves. She tilted forward, muscles coiled, eyes locked on the jagged gaps in the creature’s helm.

The Warden tried to take a step but almost crumpled. Through the cracked visor, a sliver of rotten flesh showed, teeth clenched in silence. Yet it still raised its sword, shaking, desperate for one last strike.

Allison dashed. The movement was so sharp and clean the air snapped like a whip. Her glowing katana carved a streak of light through the dim. A heartbeat later, the blade cleaved straight through the monster’s skull with almost no resistance, slicing down from crown to chin. The heat of the strike widened the fissures, glowing red as they spread.

For a moment, the creature stood frozen, as if it hadn’t realized what had happened. Its sword slipped from its hand with a dull clang. Knees buckled. A deep metallic crack rolled through the armor, spreading from the inside out.

A final muffled roar escaped as its armor shattered like glass. Then the Warden fell forward with a crash that rattled the nearest shelves. The plating disintegrated, fragment by fragment, collapsing into gray powder that dissolved into the air until nothing remained but burn marks on the floor and the echo of the fight.

Silence dropped over the library. Mason straightened, leaning on his blade. Eleanor lowered her bow, fingers trembling. Luke rose from where he’d taken cover from the blast.

“What was that explosion?” someone asked him.

“Just me improvising… and it worked,” he muttered, brushing ash from his shoulder.

“We need to check on the others,” Mason said, already moving for the corridor.

“Nice work,” Allison called over to him and Charlie.

Eleanor stared at the slick remnants on the floor. Luke gave a small nod, reading her expression. “I know. That skill’s disgusting.”

They moved quickly down the corridor, still on alert. The sound of battle had gone silent; only the stink of blood and scorched metal lingered. When they reached the hall where Evangeline, Ronan, and Jack had been fighting, the scene was over: their Warden Captain lay dead. The trio was alive.

At that moment, a bright panel flared before Luke’s eyes:

[Special Event “Third Fortress Mission” Completed]

[You have successfully defeated the three major threats! The Great Serpent, the Fallen Stone Angel, and the Three Warden Captains!]

They had done it. The third fortress was theirs.

Luke opened Charlie’s system interface, curious. The mandatory evolution alert pulsed at the top—her class had finally hit Level 50. He closed it quickly, bringing up his own screen. More notifications waited for him:

**Your class [Demonic Predator] has reached Level 60! (+10 Strength, +7 Perception, +6 Agility, +6 Vitality, +6 Intelligence, +5 Endurance, +8 Free Points)**

[You have unlocked a new Class Skill]

**[You have reached Level 50! Half-Demon (Rank F)] (+1 bonus point to all attributes, +1 free point)**

[ALERT: Rank Evaluation Requirements Completed!]

[User]
Write Chapter 297: Midnight War
Target length: ~1900 words
Key events: class event

[Assistant]
They had finally brought down all three Warden Captains. The hall still vibrated with the echo of spent magic, the metallic tang of blood, and the drifting haze of shattered stone. That victory was the result of sheer effort and willpower. Luke knew full well that not long ago it would have been hard for them to face even a single Warden Captain, but now they had defeated three.

Evangeline sat slumped against the cold stone wall, breath coming shallow and quick. Her fingers trembled against the blood-stained fabric of her kimono while Jack knelt beside her, wand pressed close, a ribbon of green light crawling over her skin to seal cuts. Across the hall, Ronan remained standing before the fallen Warden Captain, eyes locked on the corpse, lost somewhere between shock and the flickering notifications lighting the air.

[Special Event “Third Fortress Mission” Completed]

[You have successfully defeated the three major threats! The Great Serpent, the Fallen Stone Angel, and the Three Warden Captains!]

Luke flipped open his interface. More notifications scrolled past his eyes. One flagged Princess Charlie’s mandatory class evolution. It would take a careful decision later, not now. Choosing a new class required strategy and a cool head.

Another message popped up:

[Your Rank Skill is currently being forged. It will soon be ready…]

He blinked, reading it twice. This was real. At last he had unlocked his epic class skill and, soon, a Rank Skill would follow. For a heartbeat he felt the weight of every risk they had taken click into place and become worth it.

“Looks like we all survived,” Eleanor said, voice raw but steady, glancing from face to face.

Ronan kept staring at the dead Warden Captain. “That thing fought hard,” he muttered.

The hall resembled the other fortresses: mirrored corridors, high columns, shredded tapestries, scorch marks everywhere. Each detail stood as a silent record of the war they had just waged. Allison stepped closer, boots whispering over the stone.

“Nothing’s stopping us from going back to Earth now,” she said, eyes fixed on the corridor’s gate.

“Except, of course, for the damn castle and whatever’s inside it,” Evangeline answered as she rose carefully, bracing against the wall. Her kimono was soaked in red; she wiped her fingers clean before cinching the sash tighter.

“She’s healing up,” Jack murmured, still watching the faint glow on her skin.

“Dying now, this close to home, would be darkly funny,” Evangeline said, gaze sharp but weary.

Luke drew a deep breath. The biggest walls had finally fallen, Bartholomew, the fights with rival survivors, the hunt for three mechanisms. All of it behind him. He was closer to home than ever.

Evangeline scanned the group. “So… anyone here hit Rank cap?”

“I did,” Luke answered without hesitation.

“I’m almost there,” Mason added from where he leaned against a column.

For a heartbeat, silence thickened, everyone feeling the same thing: destiny lining itself up before them.

“Shall we head for the third mechanism?” Luke asked.

“Absolutely,” came the reply, all at once.

***

They left the hall without looking back. None of them wanted to stay another second. Interfaces flicked shut, weapons vanished into inventories, and the sound of boots striking stone echoed down the corridors as they moved toward their goal.

At the main door, Luke pressed both palms against it and pushed. The hinges groaned with a metallic shriek, opening into the chamber beyond.

“So this is the mechanism room? Looks the same as yours?” Ronan’s eyes swept the space, sharp and searching. He’d never seen the inner chamber of either of the other two fortresses.

“Exactly the same,” Evangeline answered.

Ronan let out a low breath. “Five years I lived in a place with one of these mechanisms right under my nose…”

“Two years for me,” Eleanor added quietly. “At least now we know the truth.”

They stepped toward the center. The mechanism itself was stone and steel, like a ship’s wheel laid flat, gears humming with a faint blue glow.

While the others approached, Luke lingered near the wall beside Charlie. Carved into the stone were ancient, cracked reliefs telling some long-forgotten story. Flakes of rock littered the floor, but one section remained intact: two angels kneeling before a throne. Whoever sat on it had been deliberately erased, leaving only a void where the figure should be.

Midnight King… or the Architect? Or were they the same thing? The thought cut through Luke’s mind as he stared at the carving.

Beside him, Charlie radiated happiness. Through the mental link, he felt her happiness like a warm current.

“We made it, Charlie,” he murmured. “We started out falling through the ice, and now we’re here.”

She lifted her hand. He met it, sealing the moment with a quick slap of palms.

“Don’t forget I’m still here,” Artemis whispered in his mind. “We’re all in this together.”

Luke drew in a steadying breath. True enough. Alongside Charlie there was the chatty, ravenous soul and the Beast Lord bound within the stone—echoes of every step they’d taken to reach this point.

“Let’s join the others,” he said, and the two of them walked toward the mechanism.

Evangeline was pressing the moons on the wall in the correct order.

“Hard to believe you infiltrated that place just to get this password,” Eleanor remarked, one brow arched.

“By the way, who was the woman that slipped into Bastion?” Ronan asked, suspicion creeping into his tone. “It’s not any of you… is it Charlie?”

For a moment all eyes flicked to Luke, then away again. Allison cleared her throat.

“Someone who isn’t here,” she said, cutting the subject off.

A new notification flared into the air, silencing any further questions.

**Final Tutorial Mission: Midnight War**

You’ve reached the final stage of the tutorial and now have access to the third and last mechanism. From your very first steps on this journey, much has happened, but don’t think the end is near. The true challenge begins now.

The Midnight War is the ultimate event of this tutorial world. In the Capital, the heart of the Kingdom, lies the last fortress. But nothing comes without a price. Activating the third mechanism will shatter the castle’s final barrier and put the exit within your reach. On the other side, however, waits the final army of the Midnight King, led by his most loyal and relentless guardian, the Midnight Lord.

Your objective is to survive the march of this army and reach the King for the final judgment. This event cannot be paused or reversed and will last exactly 6 hours.

When the War ends, no living creature may remain. Each mechanism you activated broke a seal of the castle and also a seal of the wall that kept the Kingdom safe. When the third mechanism is activated, the magic that kept the winter at bay will vanish. Eternal cold will sweep across everything. No warmth, no light, no life. Frozen death will consume every corner of this world.

You will have 6 hours to fight your way through the Midnight Lord’s army, reach the castle, and return to your world. If you fail, you will perish along with everything around you.

Objective: Survive the Midnight War and return to your world.

Requirement: At least 51% of tutorial participants must be present in the third fortress for the event to start at midnight. Once the third mechanism is activated, it cannot be stopped and the countdown to this world’s death begins.

Duration: 6 hours.

Good luck!

When the last trace faded in the air, silence fell over the room. It was a tense, almost physical silence, forcing everyone to confront the reality written before them.

***

The group had gathered in the fortress mess hall, now an improvised camp. Tables had been dragged into barricades, and worn rugs doubled as beds.

Ronan broke the silence. “Bartholomew was right,” he murmured, not looking at anyone.

Allison’s head snapped up, disbelief flashing across her face. “Right? Locking everyone inside the tutorial out of cowardice? Abandoning Earth and dying in this dying world? That’s what you think?”

“It’s not that simple.” Ronan finally turned to face them. “We have to march an army, kill a Lord, drag nearly two thousand people to the castle, fight a King and a witch who are probably stronger than the Lord, and then push through a portal. All of that in six hours. Do you even grasp the scale of that?”

Luke didn’t answer right away. He watched the flickering flame of a lamp, lost in the numbers. The truth was everything had always been a gamble. Since the beginning, every step had meant lives at stake. He’d never fooled himself into thinking they’d all make it out, but there had always been a plan: hold the line, eliminate enemies gradually, use time as a weapon. Now there was no time. Six hours. Far too little for a world this big.

And yet his mind spun with the possibilities. An army in motion meant thousands earning experience, epic skills awakening one after another, professions maxing out, strategies taking shape. If organized right, it could work. But this wasn’t a siege anymore. It was a sprint against the clock.

“I get the danger, I get the stakes,” Evangeline said at last, breaking the heavy quiet. She leaned against a pillar, arms crossed, her tone calm but unyielding. “But nothing has changed except the deadline. Come on. Months ago, could any of you have imagined taking down a Warden Captain? And we did it. nd some of you haven’t even reached peak rank yet.”

Eleanor nodded slowly. “She’s got a point.”

Jack sat hunched on a bench, rubbing the back of his neck. “Still… six hours to do everything. I’m not saying I’m quitting. I have to get back home. But we’re going to have to tear up half our plan and start over.”

Mason leaned forward, elbows on the table. “It’s still doable. We just need tighter prep. Gather the best, push everyone’s levels as high as they’ll go. At least their professions.”

“Not most. All of them,” Allison cut in. “That’s the only way this works.”

Luke raised his eyes. “We can still bring everyone here, can’t we? The Capital’s huge, crawling with threats, undead, and the Wild Zone. Two thousand people working together, grinding levels… we could build an army worth fearing.”

Ronan exhaled and finally sat back, shoulders loosening as if the numbers themselves calmed him. “Two thousand at peak profession, all with epic skills… yeah. That’s the baseline,” he said, voice steadier now.

“The classes we can work around,” Mason added. “Not everyone will hit the top, but professions? That’s doable. Then we arm them, drill them, map strategies. We teach each person exactly how to spend their free points during the war. No one’s going to have time to stop and think in the middle of it; they’ll need to know it cold.”

Their conversation began to settle the room. Ideas started to flow, strategies and counter-strategies spilling out as each person voiced their approach. For the first time since the notification, they sounded like a team again.

“The distance,” Luke said, pushing himself up from the table. “I need to know how far it is from here to the castle now that the second mechanism’s barrier might be gone.”

[User]
Write Chapter 298: Kill the Midnight Lord
Target length: ~2900 words

[Assistant]
Cold wind swept across the top of the fortress tower, carrying the damp scent of ancient stone and the forests beyond the wall. Luke leaned on the parapet, eyes fixed on the horizon, with Evangeline and Eleanor at his side. From up here, the world looked smaller, yet the weight pressing down on them grew with every heartbeat.

“You were actually thinking of going all the way over there?” Eleanor asked, a faint laugh slipping out even as her narrowed eyes measured the distance.

Luke didn’t answer right away. Ever since the second barrier mechanism had been triggered, something had been gnawing at him. The first time he’d approached the magical limit, only one device had been active. Now he needed to know if the structure had shifted.

He took the bow from Eleanor’s hands. It wasn’t just a weapon; its enchanted sight worked like a precision scope, letting him see farther than naked eyes ever could. He drew the string without an arrow, aligning the magical visor.

“The barrier’s cracked… looks like shattered glass,” he murmured. Jagged fractures ran through the blue light, sparks fading into the air.

He handed the bow back to Mason, who was watching him closely. “How long did it take you to walk from here to the barrier last time?” Mason asked, eyes still fixed on the horizon.

“About twenty minutes in a straight line,” Luke replied.

“But when we trigger the barrier,” Eleanor said, her tone turning serious as she adjusted her cloak against the wind, “what if the castle we’re seeing is just a mirage? The path could be much longer than it looks.”

Mason lowered the bow and carefully returned it to Eleanor. “We have to factor in every possibility.”

***

The dining hall lay in silence, lit only by the trembling glow of torches fixed to the stone walls. On the central table, a map sprawled open, covered in hastily drawn lines, symbols for enemy positions, and notes scrawled in dark ink. The smell of leather, iron, and fresh ink mingled with the scent of cold food forgotten in the corners.

They gathered around the map, each carrying their own shade of apprehension. More than ever, they knew the entire plan had to be reworked.

“Forget the siege strategy,” Ronan said, breaking the silence with a steady voice.

He was the first to speak after the latest information had dropped. Luke caught the trace of unease behind it, but couldn’t help admiring the man’s realism. Military blood ran in his veins, cold strategy came naturally to him.

“I have to agree,” Mason added, leaning over the map. “Waiting for the Midnight Lord’s army to reach this fortress before we react is wasting precious time. And who’s to say the enemy will even come right away? We’ll have to go full offensive. Station part of the army closer to the fortress for immediate support.”

Allison stood with one hand tracing a line across the map. “For the event to trigger, 51% of the tutorial’s population has to be inside this fortress. That leaves 49% at the front line, with reinforcements taking 20 minutes on foot, and that’s assuming everyone moves fast. We’re talking over 1,000 people. Every second counts.”

Luke felt the weight of her words. Every minute of marching, every delay had to be accounted for. The six-hour deadline hung over them like a blade.

“You think people will go along with this?” Eleanor asked. She sat on the floor against the wall, staring at the ceiling as if it might give her answers.

“What do you mean?” Jack frowned.

“She means,” Allison said with a sigh, “will they still accept the final mission after hearing about the 6-hour window?”

“They already knew they’d risk dying in the invasion. What’s changed?” Mason shook his head. “Death’s still guaranteed either way.”

“But not everyone agreed with our plan in the first place,” Allison countered. “And now, with this news, Bartholomew’s got plenty of ammo to convince people not to go.”

Evangeline drummed her fingers against the table, eyes narrowing. “As long as 51% agree, it doesn’t matter. Majority wins.”

Ronan stepped forward, fists tight. “That’s just as bad as Bartholomew tricking everyone.”

Allison met his stare. “Haven’t we been counting on the majority all along? Or did you think we’d give up on going home just because a handful of people refused? You forget we were ready to go to war with Bartholomew.”

Ronan drew a deep breath and turned back to the map. "Even so, everything’s changed. I’ll still do my best, offer strategy, help however I can, but before, I believed we could win the long game. Fortify this place, store food, grow crops. Two weeks under siege, maybe more, and we could hold."

He pressed his fingers against the map. "Mages and archers raining fire, enchanted quivers, infinite arrows as long as mana lasted. Teach people to shoot, manage stamina, a strategy that, if flawless, wouldn’t cost a single life. But with only six hours? All of that collapses."

Ronan lifted his gaze, sweeping over the faces around him. “What happens when five hours have passed and we’re still neck-deep in the war? Did no one think of that? Chaos. The formation breaks, people rush toward the castle, scattering everywhere. That’s it. I’m counting on five hours of fighting, but honestly, the panic will probably start in the first hour, when they realize we haven’t even broken through yet and monsters are still clogging the path. We can’t just think in terms of logic; we have to factor in human behavior, or we lose.”

His words hit like a stone tossed into still water, ripples of silence spreading across the hall.

“The war doesn’t have to last that long,” Luke said finally, breaking through the hush. His voice wasn’t loud, but it was enough to pull every eye to him.

He stepped closer to the map. Torchlight cast long shadows over the paper and across their faces. For a heartbeat, he didn’t see lines and symbols but a living battlefield, a chessboard with pieces waiting to be moved.

“Not everyone in the tutorial is a fighter,” he began. “Out of nearly 2,000, maybe we’ll be lucky to get 1,200 willing to fight. The rest are civilians. You’ve seen it yourselves, some in the tutorial haven’t even reached level 2 in their class. They killed a creature or two and never touched a weapon again.”

He paused, measuring their reactions. “But we don’t need the war to last 6 hours. We only need to eliminate the main threats before the clock runs out.”

They exchanged puzzled looks.

“What do you mean?” Mason leaned over the table.

“The same way I killed the Beast Lord and drove his beasts from the city. The same way you killed the Orc Lord and shattered his army. It’s possible to end the war during the event itself, fast.” Luke straightened, eyes locked on the map.

They all sensed what he meant, but he said it anyway: “We only have to kill the Midnight Lord.”

The silence returned, heavier than before. Luke turned to Ronan. “It’s a solid plan, right? We strike down the Midnight Lord in the middle of the war, while his army is busy fighting ours. When that monster falls, his army breaks. Same logic we’ve seen with Captains and Generals, always.”

A few exchanged tense glances. Jack was the first to voice it. “You said yourself the Beast Lord didn’t have an army. He was the army. What if killing the Midnight Lord doesn’t stop his soldiers?”

“Even so, an army without a leader tends to crumble. Especially undead, they don’t talk to each other,” Mason said carefully. “The Wardens at the second fortress operated in coordinated strategy, seeming to obey mental commands from the Warden Captain. If the same holds true for the Midnight Lord, killing him would leave the army vulnerable.”

Luke leaned over the map, a small smile curling at his lips. “The final challenge… it’s starting to look more like an assassination.”

***

The next few hours were a whirlwind of debates, scribbled notes, and worn-out voices leaning over the map. Everyone was exhausted, but little by little, the noise settled into a rhythm. The news of the final challenge had blindsided them, yet Luke’s new perspective lit a spark. Instead of draining their resolve, the idea of a direct strike reignited their will to fight.

They knew it was possible with the right planning, preparation, and levels. They had crawled through battles with orcs barely alive, but up to this point they had already brought down two Lords. The reasoning was simple: they had done it before, they could do it again.

But killing the Midnight Lord would take more than courage. As the group sketched their risky plan, Allison traced a line on the map. “When we fought the Orc Lord, it wasn’t a frontal charge. Every time a big group got close, he used his orcs as a living wall. We had to split the army to get our strike team through. It’ll have to be the same now.”

Heads nodded. The goal was clear: build an elite team capable of cutting through the chaos and reaching the Lord, while the rest kept his army distracted and bled it dry. Like the Warden Captain in the second fortress, it would have to be done with absolute precision. Every one of them needed to reach the peak of their rank, their epic abilities sharpened to perfection. And if the plan was assassination, there was one name no one could avoid thinking about: Erza Grimhart.

The group was going to ask her for help. After all, when it came to this, she was the best, and they would need every bit of help they could get. There was no other choice, and with the news that everyone would die, they hoped she would decide to help along with her attendants. They would also count on Ronan to handle this part, to make sure they could talk with Erza.

By then they had moved out of the refectory, camping in the fortress’s inner courtyard around a crackling fire. The sky was heavy with clouds and a cold wind whispered through the walls. Evangeline and Ronan kept watch near the warhorn, eyes scanning the dark for movement.

Everyone else lay wrapped in thick quilts on makeshift bedding. The firelight flickered across faces that were worn but still determined. Shadows danced across the stone walls, the scent of burning wood mixing with the damp earth beneath them. Between moments of silence, only the crackle of flames and the sigh of wind filled the courtyard.

Eleanor, bundled up in her blanket, lifted her gaze and fixed it on a still figure in the corner. “She really never takes that armor off?” she asked, tilting her chin toward Princess Charlie.

Luke’s throat tightened. Since he had begun this journey with the group, he had kept Charlie away from the others during scouting runs, hoping no one would notice. But now it was impossible to hide. Even superhumans needed to sleep, eat, bathe, but Charlie didn’t. And it was getting obvious.

He gave a small cough to cover his unease. “You know how it is, she’s just really shy.”

“Come on,” Eleanor said bluntly. “It’s way too obvious Charlie isn’t like everyone else.”

One by one, the others stirred from their makeshift beds, eyes shifting between Luke and the armored woman. Charlie looked away, as if whistling to herself, clearly uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

Luke had no idea how to explain. The story about her being mute had worked so far, but now things were slipping out of his control.

“Charlie’s a familiar,” Allison blurted out, cutting through the tension. “She’s a familiar, right, Luke?”

Every gaze snapped to him. It was the perfect cover.

“Exactly,” Luke said, seizing the lifeline. “Princess Charlie is my familiar.”

They turned back to her, waiting for some sign. For a moment, Charlie raised her left hand to show the ring on her finger, then lowered it again, nodding silently.

“A familiar wearing armor that’s also an item? That’s new to me,” Jack muttered, eyebrow arched.

Luke felt every stare shift to him again. Internally, he cursed. Really, Jack? Did you have to say that?

“Depending on the familiar, it’s possible,” Mason cut in before the silence could stretch too far.

Luke lifted an eyebrow. Seriously?

“If the familiar’s strong enough and its abilities accept gear, it’s doable. Not uncommon either,” Mason explained. “You people from the modern world just haven’t seen it. In the New World, it’s normal. If someone bonds with a warhorse, for example, they can outfit it with saddles, armor, the works.”

The explanation seemed to settle the room.

“So why’d you hide it from us?” Jack asked.

Luke swore at his friend in his head but kept his tone steady. “Because nobody shows all their cards. She’s my trump card. I can keep her at my side as a bodyguard or dismiss her entirely and summon her at the right moment.”

He rolled over, pulling the blanket up. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m sleeping. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

He pretended to drift off while his senses mapped everyone’s positions, making sure they were all lying back down. Damn, that was easier to sell than I expected.

“What are you all planning to do when you get back to Earth?” Jack asked after a long silence, his voice low enough to blend with the crackle of the fire.

No one answered right away. Only the wind and the hiss of burning wood filled the courtyard.

“In the beginning, that’s all I thought about,” Jack went on. “Every day. Then I buried it along with the memories of home. Sometimes it feels like Earth was just a dream, and my real life is here.” He breathed out slowly, his face flickering in the firelight.

Luke stared at the sky, clouds blotting out the stars. For a heartbeat, he remembered the family he’d left behind, the faces worn thin by distance and time. Sometimes he wondered if he’d imagined it all.

“I’m going to retire,” he said at last.

“Retire?” Allison tilted a brow.

“Yeah. Retire from the system life,” Luke murmured. “When I get back to Earth, I’m done with the interface. No more levels, quests, chests, or classes. I’ll just be old Luke again and live a normal life.”

The life he had rejected, the family he had walked away from.

“For me, I don’t think there’s such a thing as full retirement,” Eleanor said, pulling her blanket tighter. “My family’s indirectly tied to the system’s operations on Earth.”

“Seriously?” Mason asked, curiosity flickering. “Your family works for some noble house?”

“No. My father works for the government. Specifically in the military division dealing with system-related affairs. He’s in the SIA, the organization that grew out of the old CIA.”

Luke turned his head, startled. Jack gave a low whistle.

“Poor bastard who tries something with you,” Mason said, half-joking.

“Yeah. My father always said he’d kill the idiot in the worst way possible,” Eleanor added with a small laugh.

Luke coughed, took a sip from his canteen, and let the water hide his expression.

“I won’t have that kind of luxury,” Mason said, leaning back against his makeshift pillow. “My family lives on the other side, so I’ll be working with them.”

“That new continent? The New World?” Jack asked.

“Yeah,” Mason replied.

Everyone’s eyes inevitably shifted to Allison. She gave a small, restrained smile. “I’ll follow whatever path my family tells me to.”

She rolled onto her side, a clear signal the topic was off-limits. Luke caught the flicker in her expression. The smile didn’t reach her eyes. It was false, sad.

“If we ever get out of this tutorial…” Jack exhaled softly. “We’ll meet up again and laugh about all this.”

“I hope you’re not planning to convert anyone to your religion,” Luke shot back, trying to break the tension.

A ripple of low laughter moved through the group. One by one, they adjusted on their makeshift beds. The weight of choices and the days ahead hung over them like a storm cloud. The tutorial was hell, but for a few heartbeats, they let themselves imagine a future beyond it.

Silence returned to the courtyard. One by one, they drifted off, breathing deep under the slicing cold. Only the fire kept going, crackling softly, tossing sparks into the night wind.

Luke lay still, eyes open, fixed on the flames. If he had to face the Midnight Lord alone, he would. Doubt had no place anymore. The plan had been etched into his mind since the first step he took in this nightmare.

Deep in his storage item, the Beast Lord’s fang still waited, a weapon infused with mana, his hidden trump card built for a moment like this. If they could just pin the monster down long enough, he would draw and release an arrow packed with everything he had, powerful enough to obliterate the target outright. It had worked once against the Beast Lord. It would work again.

He drew a slow breath, feeling the weight of what was coming. Kill the damn Midnight Lord, then lead an army of survivors straight into the castle. Simple and deadly.

While the others slipped deeper into sleep, Luke quietly opened his system interface. A soft blue glow lit his face. In the top corner, a notification pulsed: an epic skill available for his class.

[User]
Write Chapter 299: Final Epic Skill
Target length: ~2000 words
Key events: new skill acquired, combat-heavy

[Assistant]
The list of epic skills from his class flickered to life in front of Luke. He’d saved this moment on purpose, wanting a clear head when he finally looked at it. The arguments about the Midnight War and the endless planning had left no room to process new information. He hadn’t even checked what new classes were available for Charlie yet.

I’ll have to do it soon, he thought. Otherwise, even if she kills something with that sword, she won’t gain any more class experience.

This would be his very first skill from the Demonic Predator class, and it was already epic. He hoped it would be as strong as his profession’s epic skill had been. When the menu finished loading, Luke emptied his mind and stared at the choices. This wasn’t just another power-up. It would be the last class skill he earned inside the tutorial, the one skill meant to carry him through the final battles to come.

Only three options appeared, but each one looked more devastating than the last.

[Dark Blood Arrow (Epic)]: The Demonic Predator creates a black arrow born from the power of [Dark Blood] and [Corrupted Blood of Mother Freya]. Upon hitting the target, the arrow explodes into black thorns imbued with the power of [Basic Dark Dash], piercing everything around it. The thorns also carry the power of [Profane Knife Throwing], dealing additional Bleed damage. If an enemy dies from this skill, their corpse transforms into a nest of living thorns, triggering a second thorn explosion that spreads death and chaos across the battlefield.

[Demonic Predator Hands (Epic)]: Upon activating the skill, his hands transform into monstrous forms, absorbing the power of [Dark Blood], [Corrupted Blood of Mother Freya], and [Wraith Form]. While wielding his weapons with the predator hands, his physical strength and the lethality of his strikes increase drastically. The skill emits a constant black mist. Enemies touched by it suffer continuous Acid damage. The blades wielded by these hands deal additional Acid damage with every strike. The demonic claws also allow you to scale any solid structure. A true assassin and predator can use this power both to kill silently or to unleash destruction openly.

[Darkness Tentacles (Epic)]: Using the power of [Wraith Form], the Demonic Predator can launch a fragment of dense, dark mist from his hands. Upon hitting the ground or a target, it explodes into a cloud of living shadows, from which darkness tentacles emerge, moving intelligently and dangerously while absorbing the power of [Demonic Blade Dance]. These shadow tentacles rapidly spread across the area, enveloping and temporarily immobilizing enemies while draining their Health Points via [Basic Blood Regeneration]. Trapped by the suffocating grasp of the tentacles, the targets become vulnerable, unable to escape the cruel embrace of the hungry darkness that feeds the predator with the blood of its prey.

All three skills lived up to the “epic” tag. They weren’t just powerful, they were absurdly good. If he could, Luke would have picked all of them.

Each one had a different purpose in battle. He studied them again, weighing the styles they complemented. Dark Blood Arrow screamed battlefield annihilation. The Hands were personal, brutal, a weapon for duels and climbing into impossible places. The Tentacles were pure control and sustain. Every option matched a part of his fighting style, which only made the choice harder.

Luke forced himself to think beyond his own instincts. He had to consider the war ahead, the final fights with the Midnight Lord, the Witch, and if it came to that, the Midnight King. Pushing away the spiral of what-ifs, he started categorizing the skills by utility, breaking them down by how he’d actually use them on the battlefield.

[Dark Blood Arrow] synced perfectly with his new bow style.

[Demonic Predator Hands] boosted his close-quarters fighting with the kukris.

[Darkness Tentacles] gave him crowd control, locking down enemies so he could finish them off with either blades or arrows.

Once he had sorted them by utility, he shifted focus to raw power, breaking each skill apart to study strengths and weaknesses. He had learned long ago not to be dazzled by flashy descriptions. Everything came with a cost. His Acid Blood Arrow was a monster of a skill, but its mana drain left him with only five shots. Devastating, yes, but limited. If he wanted to use one of these epic skills in the coming war, he would have to budget his mana carefully. Burn it all too soon and there would be nothing left for the “mana missile” aimed at the Midnight Lord or for whatever waited inside the castle.

Sure, there would be mana potions scavenged from chests along the way, but Luke could not count on that.

For the final battle, I can’t handle everything alone, he thought. We will have to fight as one or we will burn out before it is over.

As he examined the skills again, something clicked. Two of them were directly tied to Dark Blood, a simple choice he had made long ago, but one that had now blossomed into real power. Every skill you pick plants a seed, he realized, one that grows into something stronger later. Even Wraith Form had worked its way into the mix.

Naturally, his attention went first to Dark Blood Arrow. It was a new arrow skill, but it did not seem as sturdy as Acid Blood Arrow. If it were, the description would have said so. His profession’s epic arrow skill had two advantages built in, the corrosive cloud and a rare-tier wooden shaft tough enough to pour more mana into, amplifying its impact. Even if he skipped the acid effect, he could still Mana Infuse the arrow and hit harder.

Dark Blood Arrow did not mention any special durability. That meant no overcharging it like Acid Burst Arrow. But that did not make it weak. Its utility was obvious.

Hit a target and the arrow erupted into a storm of spikes. Luke tried to picture it. Did the spikes sprout from the victim and leap to nearby enemies? However it worked, the secondary effect was vicious. If someone died from the spikes, their corpse turned into another living nest and exploded again. Probably the chain would stop at the second kill, no third-wave detonations, but even so, it was a brutal way to tear through clusters of enemies or soften up a massive threat.

Luke weighed the possibilities. He could hit a powerful enemy with the arrow for the main strike, then watch nearby targets take collateral damage, triggering more spike bursts, maybe even hitting the primary target again. It reminded him of Charlie’s Doom Explosion. The utility against the Midnight Lord was obvious.

But his mind drifted to the Warden Captain. A weak arrow couldn’t pierce that kind of armor, and if the Midnight Lord wore something even tougher, things would get ugly fast. There was a lot to balance here. Still, it was an epic skill with insane stats, and he wouldn’t be fighting alone.

The one sticking point was cost. How much mana per shot? If each arrow burned a thousand mana, he would be in real trouble. If only the system showed the exact cost of activating a skill, he could plan better.

Next on the list: Demonic Predator Hands. Out of all three, he saw this one as the most versatile. Unlike the arrow, it wasn’t built for wiping out hordes. It was for single-target destruction. It fused Corrupted Mother Freya’s Blood with Dark Blood to give him another acidic skill, but this time infused with Wraith Form. He couldn’t even picture it yet, monstrous hands cloaked in black fumes that dealt corrosive damage just by existing.

He wondered if the acidic mist would harm him too. After all, his Acid Blood Arrow’s cloud had collateral effects. But three things stood out about the skill. First, it amplified his physical strength and the lethality of any weapon he wielded while active. Like a berserker buff, but darker. That meant both his kukris and his bow would hit harder under the effect of this epic skill.

He even pictured it layered with the mana missile. If the Midnight Lord really was stronger than the Beast Lord, the missile alone might not finish him, but combine it with Demonic Predator Hands and the shot could become monstrous. Luke had seen how stacking skills turned good skills into devastating ones. This might be the edge he needed. There was no “later” to plan for; after this fight, there might not be a future. He didn’t care about utility after the war. He cared about now.

The second benefit was just as tempting: any blade he held would inherit acid damage. That meant his kukris wouldn’t just get the buff to strength and lethality, they would also corrode whatever they struck. Two powerful buffs rolled into one skill. That alone made it worth thinking about.

The third perk seemed minor but could be situational: climbing walls with his new claws. It wasn’t exactly a combat mechanic, but he wondered if he could also rake enemies with those claws. If I touch someone, do I burn them too? This power feels a little wicked.

The final skill on the list waited for his attention: Darkness Tentacles.

It was a skill reminiscent of Evangeline’s, the way she summoned shadow arms from the ground to snare her enemies. Luke didn’t dismiss it. Just because it didn’t deal absurd amounts of damage didn’t mean it lacked purpose. Immobilizing a target could be priceless, and he knew it.

And of course, the skill siphoned HP from anything caught in its grasp thanks to Basic Blood Regeneration, a power he had practically stopped using. In combat it was more of a hindrance than a help, draining a pitiful single hit point per second and locking him out of other spells while active. Most of the time it was faster and deadlier to charge in with his kukris than to stand still bleeding enemies dry. He only ever used it after a fight, as a slow way to heal without wasting potions.

But this new skill would spawn a whole mass of tentacles, each one leeching health from multiple enemies at once. A tempting advantage, even if it couldn’t match the raw damage output of his other options.

The problem was obvious. Basic Blood Regeneration didn’t work on the undead. Its effect relied on bleeding, and the dead didn’t bleed. The Midnight Lord and his army were almost certainly undead. In that case, the HP drain would be useless. His theory came from experience: the Midnight Warden and Midnight Watcher had been undead or constructs, and neither suffered bleed damage. Picking a skill purely for its synergy with Basic Blood Regeneration was a risk.

Still, he had to think about more than just the army. There was the Midnight Lord himself, the Witch, and then the Midnight King, three bosses waiting at the end, each probably stronger than the last. Maybe the real answer was coordination. He had considered proposing that everyone discuss their epic skill choices to build a full-team strategy. But the truth was they would never reach a perfect answer. No one knew the fighting style of those bosses. And at this point, no one could afford to take a skill they didn’t resonate with just for the sake of a theoretical combo.

Skill choices were personal, tied to mindset and synergy. A new arrow attack, a new kukri technique, or a way to pin enemies down? He could see the possibilities:

[Darkness Tentacles] plus [Acid Blood Arrow].

[Demonic Predator Hands] plus [Mana Infusion], fired through his bow or slashing with his kukris.

Or simply the [Dark Blood Arrow ]alone, with its devastating effect.

He exhaled slowly, the decision forming like a blade in his mind.

[You have acquired the Class Skill: …]

[User]
Write Chapter 300: Last Refuge Before War
Target length: ~2800 words
Key events: level-up occurs

[Assistant]
Lunch was served in the makeshift mess hall of the third fortress. The smell of hot food drifted through the cold air seeping from the stone walls. Luke set his tray down and paused to reflect. The system notification still burned in his mind, insistent. As he ladled food onto plates, his thoughts kept returning to the same point:"At least 51% of tutorial participants must be present in the third fortress for the event to start at midnight..."

“Fifty-one percent…” he muttered under his breath. Was that the same number Angelica had mentioned? The one Bartholomew feared?

He shook his head. If Bartholomew had known about the final challenge, he would have used it, either to rally people or to manipulate them. No, this had to be something else.

A soft sound cut through his focus. Eleanor pulled up a chair beside him.

“So you really can cook, huh?” she asked, eyeing the steaming lasagna.

“Cook is a stretch. I can handle the basics,” Luke replied without looking up.

They had their meals kept in storage items, already packed for travel, hot dishes frozen in time and ready to be summoned. The lasagna he was sharing now was the same dish he had made for Evangeline on the day he reunited with Allison.

Those bastards at the Haven chained me up before I could even finish that dinner, he thought.

“Want another slice?” he offered. The tray was nearly empty.

“I’ve eaten plenty,” Eleanor said with a faint smile. “Just surprised to see you cooking, that’s all.”

“It’s nothing special. Not much competition. Evangeline lives on canned food.”

Eleanor laughed softly. For a heartbeat, the tension eased. They traded quick glances at the other tables, noting what everyone else ate. Then Charlie appeared and settled into the seat between them, her armor catching the dim light.

“There’s more space over there, Charlie,” Luke said, gesturing to an empty chair.

She stared back, then glanced at Eleanor and shook her head. She didn’t move. Luke rubbed the back of his neck, puzzled.

“I think I’ll… go start breaking down the camp in the courtyard,” she murmured, rising.

“Fine,” Luke said, turning back to his plate.

Better tell her not to touch my bed, he thought, but he didn’t get the chance. Charlie’s gauntleted hand landed on his shoulder, pinning him to the seat.

He tried to rise, but her grip pressed him back down. She pointed at his plate, then at his own stomach. Eat.

Luke shook his head. The twin red glints inside her helm flared brighter, a silent warning. She repeated the gesture: food, then him. She was clearly annoyed. Then she lifted her left hand, showing the ring on her finger.

Luke frowned. What is she trying to say? Maybe she’s anxious to pick the new class… and I’m stalling. Could be that.

He exhaled and shoveled down the rest of the food while Charlie stayed close, silent and watchful as ever.

***

The inner courtyard of the third fortress lay quiet, broken only by the metallic clatter of armor being adjusted and gear stowed away. The afternoon chill felt heavier than usual, signaling the end of a chapter. They had decided to abandon the fortress once every last task was finished and every resource stripped from it.

“The fortress will still function even without the mechanism active,” Ronan said, tightening the belt of weapons slung across his hips as he walked with Mason.

“Yeah,” Mason replied with a curt nod.

The women were taking the last few minutes to wash up in one of the fortress’s side chambers.

“They’re actually getting cleaned up for the trip?” Jack asked, half amused.

Ronan gave a short laugh. “They’re women. My fiancée does the same thing, even when we’re heading out to hunt in the Wild Zone.”

Mason only shrugged, agreeing without comment.

They sat near the main gate, where the ramparts cast long shadows across the stone floor. Luke stayed quiet, adjusting the sheath of his kukri while the others exchanged glances.

“Now it all makes sense,” Ronan said after studying him for a moment. “Why the knight never leaves your side or takes off her armor. She’s a familiar.”

Luke lifted his eyes slowly.

“Charlie is my bodyguard,” he said flatly.

With that, the oddity of it all felt easier to accept. The fact that Luke could store the knight inside his soul and summon her at will no longer sounded so far-fetched. At the moment, though, Princess Charlie stood guard over the bathing area, making sure no one came near, especially Luke.

“You really snuck all the way here just so the angel statue wouldn’t trigger that thing?” Ronan asked, folding his arms. “Not sure I’d have managed it.”

Luke rolled a shoulder. “It was a pain, but it worked.”

Beside them loomed the massive warhorn. In the evenings Luke would share pieces of his journey through the capital, stories that sounded almost too wild to be true but had become a ritual before sleep.

“Be honest,” Jack said, turning to Mason. “You’ve got the most military experience. Do you actually think we can pull off the final mission?”

Mason took his time before answering. “With the right prep, it’s not impossible. But don’t fool yourselves. Just because I come from a noble family doesn’t make me invincible or some master strategist. Ronan’s better at this than I am. He’s been facing Marshall and his strategies for five year.”

“I wasn’t alone,” Ronan replied with a brief smile. “And when you showed up, it helped more than you think.”

While they spoke, Luke kept his eyes fixed ahead. The army of dormant statues filled the cityscape around the fortress, row after row of frozen sentinels. Wherever he looked, there were statues, some shattered, others draped in moss, figures monstrous and humanoid alike, locked in eternal stillness.

“My knowledge is more about the system,” Mason went on. “It’s personal. My family serves a more powerful house, the one with the hawk sigil. Those are the true strategists. I wouldn’t even dream of comparing myself to them.”

Luke listened quietly. Since the moment he’d met Mason, the nobleman had spoken of places and histories that seemed more like fantasy than memory. Even now, inside the tutorial, it still felt unreal.

“You lived on an island, right?” Luke asked at last.

“An archipelago of islands… or more like floating mountains off the main continent of the New World,” Mason said, nostalgia flickering in his eyes. “If we make it out of here alive and back to our world, maybe I’ll invite you to visit.”

Luke hesitated but couldn’t hold back his curiosity. “And the Rhiannon family? How did you even meet Allison?”

Mason gave a faint smile. “Who in the New World hasn’t heard of her family? They’re practically stars.”

Jack nodded. “Even though I grew up in modern society, when I joined my Divine Order I learned about the World Government families.”

“They never talked much about that in school…” Luke murmured.

“Information was always restricted,” Ronan replied. “The two societies stay separate for a reason.”

Mason stretched his arms above his head as he stood. “It’s part of the agreement. No Divine Order outranks another, and the government keeps its distance. Publicly they only say ‘World Government’ or ‘the Nobility,’ never naming individual houses. It keeps any one family from gaining too much attention or being accused of favoritism. Rules of the game. So don’t feel ignorant. You were raised as part of the common society.”

A gust of wind swept through the courtyard then, scattering dust across the stones, a sharp reminder to everyone that it was time to move.

***

The river stretched like a dark ribbon between the dead trees, mirroring the gray sky above. Its current whispered in a low, steady growl while the group readied their boats. Damp air carried the smell of moss and rust. No birds, no wind, just the prickling sense of unseen eyes watching from the banks.

Luke paused, his boots sinking slightly into the cold mud.

This is it. This is the way to the hideout.

Inside his head, Artemis’s voice drifted in, soft and almost curious. 'Luke, your precious friend here has been having some interesting thoughts about the final challenge of this tutorial.'

He didn’t answer right away. He helped Ronan shove the boat into the water, watching the warped reflections of their silhouettes ripple across the current.

What kind of thoughts?

Ronan pulled another wooden boat from storage and dropped it into the river. The boards creaked but held. The women tightened their packs and checked their gear before boarding.

'Hmm…' Artemis hesitated. 'I’ve been thinking. The final challenge is basically a war, right? The enemy trying to stop you from reaching the portal?'

That’s right. Luke replied in thought.

'If you realize things aren’t going to end well for your side…' She gave a little mental cough. 'I wouldn’t judge you for using your skills to slip through the enemy, get to the castle, find the portal, and escape back to your world. Honestly, I’d be all for it, as long as you survived and saved us in the process.'

Luke’s gaze drifted to the distant castle, a jagged shadow against the gray sky.

No. That’s not possible.

'Hey, hey…' Artemis pressed. 'I saw you kill a giant serpent. Don’t tell me you couldn’t do it.'

He sat down in the boat beside Jack and Charlie. The armored knight took the oars, rowing in silence as always. Luke kept his eyes on the horizon, though the thought had already taken root.

I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t crossed my mind.

'Use the others as a screen. While the enemy focuses on them, slip through, reach the castle, step through the portal. You’d protect your kind friend Artemis and still return to your family.'

He stared at his hands, fingers interlaced on his knee. The boat rocked gently. Could I live with myself if I did it at the cost of everyone here?

'A nice night of sleep next to your family would probably help.' Artemis teased.

I wouldn’t forgive myself. I’ve done bad things, sure, out of defense or to prevent something worse. But leaving everyone behind to save myself… that would cross a line. My mother died in a tutorial because no one was there to help her. I’d be repeating history.

Artemis said nothing.

Luke drew a long breath and fixed his eyes ahead. And in the process, I’d be leaving behind everyone who’s followed me this far, including Allison. No. That’s not happening.

***

The current tightened as the river narrowed, forcing the two boats to drift closer together. Dead trees and twisted roots lined the banks, forming a natural corridor. The gray sky bled into the dark water, turning the surface into a mirror that swallowed depth.

Jack fidgeted with his oar. “Okay, so there’s no way to channel stamina into this boat?” he asked, glancing around.

A short laugh drifted from the other boat.

“No,” Ronan replied. “The system won’t let you. It has to be something small that syncs with you.”

Luke stayed quiet, eyes tracking the current and the mental map hovering in his mind. Any moment now, they’d slip into the area near the hideout.

The boat shuddered once. Then again, harder. The boards groaned.

“I saw something!” Jack yelped, backing from the prow and yanking his wand from his belt.

“Calm down. Probably just a rock,” Luke said.

Eleanor rose with her bow drawn, scanning the water’s surface.

A low, dragging sound drifted from beneath the river, like something pulling itself through the depths.

“Could be a crocodile?” Allison asked, weapon at the ready.

Luke drew his kukri. “Either way, we’re strong enough. If we go overboard, we can handle it.”

Jack went pale. “Go overboard? I can’t swim, man! I’m not dying dragged down by some monster from the abyss!”

“There’s no monster from the abyss here,” Eleanor said without looking away from the water.

“How do you know? This river could be a portal to an endless abyss!” Jack shot back, eyes wide.

“Dude… you’re exaggerating,” Evangeline muttered, trying to steady the mood.

Then, without warning, two massive tentacles erupted from the water, black and glistening.

“I knew it! We’re dead!” Jack screamed. “It’s the abyss!”

Luke moved instantly. He channeled stamina, raised his kukri, and hurled it with precision while Eleanor loosed an arrow. The air cracked with the force of their strikes.

Text flashed across Luke’s interface:

[Great River Octopus – Level 55]

The creature let out a high-pitched roar and sank back into the depths, leaving violent waves slapping at both boats.

“We’re going to die!” Jack repeated, hugging his knees.

“We’ve killed a level 70 monster and you’re scared of a 55?” Evangeline shot back, sarcasm sharp.

Luke sat again, eyes on the surface as it slowly calmed. “I marked it with an ability. It’s retreating.”

Through the Predator’s Mark, he saw the outline of the monster drifting deeper, moving away.

“This is going to be a problem,” Allison said grimly. “We can’t leave it here. When the others cross, it could strike again.”

Jack trembled.

“You volunteered to kill the Midnight Lord with us and you’re afraid of this thing?” Luke asked.

“As long as the final battle isn’t in the water, I’m fine,” Jack said, breathing hard.

Luke studied him. Some fears ran deeper than levels or skills could reach.

“Ever told you about the time I fought a crocodile underwater?” Luke asked, trying to distract him.

Jack only shook his head, still too pale to hear stories.

***

The river stretched wide and dark, its steady current pushing the boats forward. When they reached the point marked on the map, Luke signaled for them to pull over. Charlie rowed with precision toward a bank where thick roots and jagged stones made it easier to climb out. Cold spray leapt from the rocks as the water struck.

Once everyone was on solid ground, Luke and Ronan hauled the boats ashore. One by one, the crafts vanished into storage items, pocket dimensions where they would stay safe and untouched by time. Then the march began.

The trail cut through a forest of dead trees, twisted branches scraping against armor and snagging on cloaks. The ground was a carpet of ashen leaves that crumbled underfoot, releasing a fine dust with each step. In places they skirted massive roots or slid down soft earthen slopes. The climb was slow and silent, each person lost in their own thoughts.

After a while the dark mouth of the cave appeared ahead, tall and uneven, like a split in the hillside. Luke drew a deep breath. This was his hideout, one of the few places where he felt in control.

Crossing the rocky threshold left the daylight behind and the air turned colder. Lanterns and torches revealed slick stone walls, old markings, and tables cobbled together from planks balanced on blocks.

“Finally,” Evangeline muttered, sinking down and stretching her legs.

“You didn’t do anything but walk behind us. You didn’t even row,” Mason teased.

“Doing nothing still drains you,” she shot back, smoothing her hair. “Don’t tell me you’re heading out again. Rest a little.”

The group began setting up camp in the cavern’s main hall. The reason for returning was simple: most of them still needed to hit the peak of their rank, and hunting in the surrounding forest was safer and more predictable than provoking insane living statues or undead in the city. At the same time, they could clear the river route for future crossings, whether for themselves or other survivors.

Inside the cave, the conversation continued. Eleanor sat on a wooden chair, listening to water drip somewhere deep within. “Every second here is a second farther from Earth. Are you sure about this?”

Evangeline clicked her tongue, impatient.

“So, what’s the plan?” Ronan asked, spreading maps across the table.

Allison laid her notes on top, lining up routes and markings. “Before we dump cold water on everyone at the Safe Zone, we need something good to bring back. Let’s start with what’s missing.”

Their message had to be simple and strong: they’d killed the Beast Lord, reached the third fortress, claimed it, and hit peak rank. If they wanted to convince everyone the final mission was possible, they needed to return with hard facts and the bearing of victory.

“Then it’s time to finish leveling and hit the peak,” Mason said, closing his fist over the table.

Groups began to split off, each heading in a different direction. Luke and Evangeline, however, had no reason to take part; they were already at the apex and could afford to rest.

As everyone organized their tasks, Luke opened Princess Charlie’s interface. It was time to choose her new class.