Chapter 275: The Spectral Orc

Luke sat cross-legged on the forest floor, eyes closed, body still. Calm washed through him, that rare inner state he had trained himself to reach whenever the faint spark of insight stirred. In that space, he could shift perspective, turn problems on their side, see them from angles he wouldn’t otherwise. He didn’t just imagine his own moves, he placed himself in the mind of the enemy, trying to simulate their thoughts, their reactions, their fears.

His mind wandered through every possible scenario they might face if they tried to attack Bastion. The conclusion was clear: it wasn’t worth it.

The effort required to force their way in could mean their end, and Bartholomew wouldn’t even need to strike first. He only had to wait, patient as a spider, for prey to stumble into his web.

“Time isn’t on our side…” Luke muttered, opening his eyes. He rose to his feet.

Charlie, who had been standing nearby, approached at his signal.

“Summon him,” he instructed.

The princess extended her hand. Her skill, Spectral Soldier, flared to life. Wisps of white and black smoke gathered, swelling outward, threaded with eerie green light. A shape took form within the haze until the orc general emerged.

Morvat immediately dropped to one knee before Charlie and Luke.

“Let’s begin testing,” Luke said, his gaze fixed on the spectral figure.

The resemblance to the old Morvat was uncanny, but there were clear differences. His body constantly shed thin trails of spectral mist, and cracks laced across his skin like fractured porcelain. From those fissures, faint green light seeped, not illuminating, not alive, just raw magic leaking through broken seams. The soldier wasn’t translucent, nor intangible. He was solid.

“Do you remember our last conversation?” Luke asked.

Still kneeling, the orc raised his head. “Yes, my lord.”

Interesting. He retained his memories from the previous summoning. That meant long-term planning was possible, maybe even teaching him new tactics.

“Show me your hand.”

Morvat lifted his right hand, palm facing outward. No wound. Last time, Luke had cut him. The soldier hadn’t bled, but the mark had remained, a crack like shattered glass. Now it was gone. Healed. Luke pulled up Charlie’s interface, his mind racing through theories based on her other spectral skills. One in particular stood out:

[Spectral Barrier (Rare)]: A translucent barrier that rises to absorb incoming damage, whether physical or magical. It consumes mana while active. While the barrier holds, it reduces damage taken, allowing the Death Knight to withstand brutal blows and devastating spells alike. Fireballs, lightning bolts, and other high-level magic are included. However, its durability has limits. Powerful strikes can shatter the barrier, and maintaining it depends entirely on your mana pool. Use it wisely. Like any defense, it comes at a cost.

The soldier worked the same way. Damage didn’t bleed him out, it fractured him, piece by piece, until he eventually shattered. Unlike Charlie, he had no visible HP or MP gauge to measure. Everything would be trial and error. And if Morvat died? Luke had no idea what would happen. The only way to know for sure was to kill him. But Luke wasn’t ready to make that mistake. Not yet. He decided to start where he had before, repeating the questions.

“Do you remember how you died?”

“Yes, my lord,” the orc said. “I was slain by your right hand… my master’s hand.”

So, to him, Luke was lord. Charlie, master.

“Do you harbor any resentment toward the two of us?”

Morvat shook his head. “My greatest joy is to serve my sovereigns.”

The orc pressed his forehead to the ground, bowing even lower.

Yeah, no way this guy is the actual orc general. That creature would never act like this, let alone be so quiet and restrained.

“If Charlie and I were fighting a powerful enemy, and one of us suffered a grave wound… who would you choose to save?”

The orc lifted his head. “You, my lord. Always,” he said, looking directly at Luke.

Luke let out a breath, thoughtful. “And if Charlie and I fought each other? Whose side would you take?”

Charlie’s head snapped toward him, clearly displeased.

‘I would never fight you’. That was the feeling he picked up through the master and servant bond.

She knows I’m speaking hypothetically, right?

Both of them turned back to the orc.

“I would never raise my hand against my lord and master. In such a case, I would destroy myself,” Morvat replied.

Luke’s expression hardened. “And if I ordered you to kill Charlie?”

“Then I would obey.”

“What if Charlie ordered you to hurt me?”

“Then I would destroy myself,” he answered without hesitation.

With each question, Luke was starting to understand the limits of the orc’s loyalty. In the hierarchy, he was firmly at the top.

“What are your goals in life now that you’ve returned from death?” Luke asked.

“To serve my two sovereigns for eternity and help them reach the highest degree of tyranny,” Morvat said, sounding genuinely pleased.

Okay, maybe he’s still a little crazy, like the old Morvat.

Luke narrowed his eyes. “Who placed the orcs in this tutorial? Where did you come from?”

“I do not know, my sovereign. I am not the true orc,” Morvat replied.

Luke had already asked this once before. From what he’d gathered, this really wasn’t the original orc. Just a copy, carrying nothing but the echo of their last encounter, knowledge of how he had died, and nothing more. It had been the moment when Charlie’s special class activated, recording Morvat’s memory like an imprint. That was her hidden skill. It only worked on enemies she had slain, since her class “registered” them. Luke suspected it was tied to the experience she absorbed from her kills.

This wasn’t a resurrection. Once he pieced it together, he understood how the echo worked. Charlie’s Spectral Soldier was like a blank canvas she could paint upon. It permanently took the form of one of her slain foes, shaped by the memory she had captured. That was how the skill functioned.

The idea reminded Luke of Harry Potter. In the third book, Harry had learned about creatures called Boggarts, which took the shape of a person’s greatest fear. Harry’s had turned into a Dementor. Even though the Boggart wasn’t a real Dementor, it still acted like one and carried a shadow of its power. That was exactly how the Spectral Soldier worked. It became Morvat.

Luke stepped closer to the orc and tried to use Identify. Nothing. No information.

Makes sense. He’s not a living being or an object. He’s a spell. Just like I can’t cast Identify on a fireball, I can’t use it on him.

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But there was something else he could try. When Luke touched the orc’s shoulder, a system window appeared.

[Spectral Soldier: Morvat]
Military Rank: Soldier
Skills: [Orc Instinct], [Battle Frenzy]

It was a plain system window, showing only the basics of the specter. No inventory, no HP, no level. Just that. Morvat had only two skills, confirming that this was nothing more than a shadow of the real general. His “level” wasn’t even a number, just the designation Soldier. Luke narrowed his gaze, focusing on the word until Identify revealed more.

[Military Rank]: A Specter whose designation is Soldier. The strength of the Specter is defined by its Military Rank. The higher the rank within the army, the more powerful the summon becomes.

That was new.

So Charlie can evolve Morvat’s rank? I mean, the same way I’ve leveled up some skills… maybe if the rarity of her skill increases, his rank will shift too.

Luke studied Morvat’s two skills. It was clearly just a fraction of the original’s power. The summon didn’t have [Berserker Flames], that terrifying skill to ignite his own body in fire, the one Charlie had inherited from killing him.

The first skill:

[Orc Instinct]: The orc’s combat instinct is forged by survival in a hostile world. From an early age, they learn to trust their senses, brute strength, and natural aggression to dominate their foes. This skill grants instinctive knowledge of unarmed combat and the use of simple weapons, favoring a savage but effective style.

Luke had tested it before—he pulled a weapon from Charlie’s inventory and handed it to Morvat. When the specter struck a tree with the blade, nothing happened. No damage. Which proved the orc’s stats didn’t synchronize with weapons. Meaning Luke couldn’t hand him gear or armor either.

This guy’s stuck with his fists.