Chapter 155: Death in the Dark

The group was gathered beneath the night sky, surrounded by the dark forest. Three days had passed since the ant attack. Marshall was dead. The surviving Renegades had scattered like rats, fleeing the Safe Zone the moment Bartholomew claimed victory. They vanished into the Wild Zone — directionless, leaderless, hopeless. But the worst came after. Every hideout they knew had been compromised. Each safe place… had become a grave.

“Someone betrayed us,” one of them said, breaking the silence. “All our main hideouts were hit.”

“And now you want to play the blame game?” another snapped. “It was probably one of the ones who got caught after infiltrating Bartholomew’s fortress. Marshall’s gone. We lost. There’s no place left.”

Silence fell again, thick as fog.

“We were close to the original Renegades — the founders. We can still regroup. Build a new strategy, launch another assault. We can keep slowing the Safe Zone down. We can’t let Bartholomew win.”

But then… a voice came from the darkness.

“It’s not Bartholomew who’s hunting you. It’s me.”

Weapons were drawn instantly. Bows raised. Wands lit with mana.

“Light!” one of the mages shouted.

Floating orbs of light burst into the branches above. Spells of night vision flared. Their eyes gleamed with magical reflection. Footsteps echoed among the trees as a figure emerged from the shadows.

“If I want to complete the tutorial… I can’t let any of you live.”

It was a young man. Alone.

“If any of you had truly repented, I might’ve let it go.”

“He’s one of Bartholomew’s soldiers!” one of them growled.

They scanned the woods for signs of an ambush. But no one else was there.

“Capture him. We need to know how he found this place.”

“I followed you before,” he said coldly. “Mapped every hideout, every trail. Every meeting point.”

A mage raised a hand. A fireball formed, glowing with vibrant, bluish flame.

“Kill this bastard. He’s gotta be a scout for Bartholomew!”

The fireball launched.

Then exploded—

But not on Luke.

A figure appeared in front of him, intercepting the spell. Heavy footsteps hit the wet earth. From the dust of the blast, a silhouette emerged through the smoke.

Several of them took a step back when they saw the armor she wore — dark, shining steel.

“That’s a Midnight Warden’s chestplate! What the hell?!”

It was Princess Charlie, wearing the jet-black chestplate of a Midnight Warden.

“How did this woman get her hands on that cursed armor?”

The tension snapped like a brittle twig. The Renegades scattered around her, trying to form a perimeter. Some hesitated — while Charlie stood her ground, staring them down. Then she raised her sword and pointed it forward. Charlie activated her pugilist skill: Battle Roar.

The sound of her roar echoed through the forest — and for a moment, they all recoiled in fear.

“Advance!” one of them shouted.

Spells and arrows flew, explosions crashing against the chestplate — but Charlie didn’t stop. She walked through it all, slow and unrelenting, a force of nature clad in black steel.

She turned toward the mage who had cast the first fireball — and even without eyes, it felt like she was staring straight at him.

He turned to run.

Charlie raised her hand.

Spectral chains burst from the air around him, coiling and yanking him back like a puppet caught in a trap. Before he could scream, before he could even beg, she had already closed the distance.

Without hesitation, she drove her sword straight through him.

[Princess Charlie has slain a Human – Lvl 17 (Mage – Lvl 22)]

The chaos began with a thunderous roar. Magic exploded across the sky. Knights charged with war cries, steel clashing against steel.

In the middle of it all, Charlie was a storm.

She activated her charge and delivered a brutal kick that sent an enemy flying into a tree. A Renegade with a battleaxe leapt through the air, screaming. Charlie raised her hand.

[Spectral Barrier].

The axe strike ricocheted off the shield. She responded with a punch powered by Steel Fist, slamming her opponent in the gut and launching him like a bullet. Three mages surrounded her — wands raised, fire surging around her. A bolt of lightning struck; she dropped to one knee.

The same warrior came charging back in, axe lifted high. Charlie grabbed him by both arms, spun him in the air with raw strength, and crushed his skull with a downward punch.

[Princess Charlie has slain a Human – Lvl 16 (Warrior – Lvl 24)]

The mages shouted, increasing their firepower. Charlie spun in a full circle, activating Whirlwind Strike, tossing all three away like rag dolls. Arrows exploded around her, but she never stopped.

She charged forward, unstoppable.

In the shadows… Luke watched. Silent. Dangerous.

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But then—movement behind him.

An arrow zipped past. He turned by reflex, dodging at the last second. Three archers. Two melee fighters. Closing in.

“You’re gonna regret coming here,” one of them growled, firing.

Luke moved like a blur as the two fighters lunged from the shadows. The archers split apart through the trees, firing in sync, while one came at him unarmed—fists glowing with electricity. A pugilist. He charged forward in a sudden burst, and Luke went to kick—but the Renegade’s punch connected first, shattering a tree trunk and sending splinters flying.

Before Luke could recover, the second fighter arrived. He moved with sharp, calculated speed, twin daggers flashing in his hands—fast, precise, deadly.

A kick flew. Luke blocked it. The Renegade rolled across the ground and slashed in a rising arc, blades like fangs of a snake. Luke deflected with his arms — but without his kukris, he was at a disadvantage. He was deliberately holding back from using them.

Another arrow detonated in a flash of light. The brightness blinded him.

And then—silence.

The assassin had vanished.

Luke moved, Refined Perception active, tracking every shift in the air. Something descended from above — a shadow dropped from a branch overhead. The Renegade emerged from darkness, striking with vicious speed.

He was a Shadow Assassin.

Luke met him head-on. A punch to the arm. One to the ribs. The assassin retreated, slipping back into the shadows.

“AAARRGH!” the pugilist roared, likely boosting his power with a Battle Roar like Charlie’s.