Chapter 292: Hearts Ready for War
byThe cold morning wind blew in from the north, carrying the damp scent of the forest and the distant echo of metal striking metal. The group moved in silence, their steps muffled by the soft earth, until the towers of the checkpoint rose ahead, black against the pale sky. A low wall marked the entry to the Kingdom’s Capital. Even for those who had seen it before, the sight was imposing.
Luke felt his chest tighten. The scene stirred memories he’d thought long buried, his first time passing through those gates, and then the day he left without looking back. Returning now wasn’t nostalgia; it was anxiety. Earth felt closer than ever, yet an invisible thread seemed ready to snap at any moment.
“Identify yourselves!” a voice barked from above, sharp and suspicious. An archer stepped onto the parapet, bow drawn, eyes cold.
“It’s us!” Ronan called back easily, lifting a hand.
Other archers appeared, recognizing the group. The taut hum of bowstrings slackened as arrows dipped. One soldier, sweat-streaked and hollow-eyed, leaned over for a better look.
“Commander, about time you came. Don’t tell me today’s the day you’re crossing over?”
Ronan offered a small smile, though his eyes stayed wary. “Something like that,” he said without elaborating.
The group pressed on. Luke glanced at his companions, Allison, Evangeline, Mason, Jack, Ronan, Princess Charlie. Eleanor would meet them here. As they moved through the makeshift camp, Luke noticed dozens of Bastion armors glinting under the gray light, mingling with the plain clothes of civilians. The place was a mosaic of survival, soldiers, apprentices, and volunteers crammed together, training, trading information, repairing weapons.
Allison stopped beside a young soldier whose armor still bore streaks of rust. “How’s the leveling going?” she asked, gauging the camp’s progress.
“It’s working. We’re using the gate trouble to train new blood,” the boy replied, shifting his bow higher on his shoulder.
“Anything dangerous headed this way?” Mason asked, his tone heavier than he intended.
“No. Same as always,” said the soldier, though his eyes betrayed fatigue.
Undead came daily from the direction of the Capital, shambling up to the defensive line. Low-level archers used them as target practice under heavy cover. It wasn’t just archers, other fighters were testing their skills too. The teams were creeping up in levels while keeping the threat contained. Some hadn’t even reached class level three yet; the urgency was palpable. They needed at least fifteen or twenty to stand a chance in the final war.
Strategies were in motion to close the gap. Civilians were being taught how to awaken professions, and the focus was on squeezing every drop of potential before the decisive day. Free points would be poured into weak attributes, and Allison planned to distribute the Infusion of Strength rune, once exclusive to Haven, to everyone. It was how they’d turn survivors into fighters.
Luke’s gaze swept across the camp. He spotted Cecilia in the distance, correcting archers’ stance and grip, with Eleanor at her side, tracking every detail. Ronan, Mason, and Allison kept walking, but Luke, Evangeline, and Princess Charlie paused to take in the sight.
“Who would’ve thought?” Evangeline said with a crooked smile. “Everyone so fired up to get back to Earth. Two months ago it was all depression and bitterness.”
Luke’s eyes flicked to Ronan speaking with a small group ahead. “And you trust that guy?” he asked quietly.
Evangeline let out a dry laugh. “I don’t even trust you. Why would I trust him?”
“I’m serious,” Luke said, his voice low but firm.
“A big chunk of both Safe Zones is working together. Even the bandits stopped looting. Can you believe that?” she shot back, her eyes still locked on Ronan. “He wants to go back as much as we do. That’s what I’m counting on. But Bartholomew and Kruger… I can feel trouble brewing.”
“So do I,” Luke murmured.
Evangeline folded her arms. “They’re betting on us to fail. But once they see us return victorious… who knows what they’ll try. Still, it’s a handful of them against ninety-five percent of the tutorial. Think they’ll win?”
Luke nodded.
“How long until most of the civilians have solid profession levels?” he asked.
“Let’s be honest. What you’re really asking is how long it’ll take to move two thousand people to the third fortress—tools, weapons, boats, the whole setup,” she replied.
“Something like that,” Luke admitted. “It all ends at once. While they prep resources, they gain experience. By the time we’re ready, everyone levels up.”
“Three months. Maybe with a hard push,” Evangeline estimated.
“Three months?” Luke repeated, a chill creeping up his spine.
“You thought you could wrap up in two days what’s taken eight years to build? No one’s as crazy as you,” she said with a crooked smile. “But don’t worry. I’m one of the most impatient people here. If it were up to me, we’d activate that third mechanism right now.”
***
The camp throbbed with the clang of metal and the low murmur of voices. Amid the drills and shouted orders echoing through makeshift corridors, Luke drifted away from the group. He needed air, space to clear his head. His eyes swept over the training grounds until they snagged on a familiar figure.
A woman paced the perimeter with a bow slung over her shoulder, steps measured and eyes restless. When their gazes met, Luke instinctively turned his head, pretending to study the nearby tents. He wasn’t quick enough.
“Well, hello to you too, scumbag.” Her voice cut like a blade.
Luke almost choked on his breath. “H-hi… Zoey. Didn’t even see you…” His hands fluttered uselessly.
She clicked her tongue, glanced away, and kept walking, the rigid carriage of a soldier leaving no room for small talk. He stood frozen, watching her vanish between the tents, a chill crawling up his spine.
“Small world…” he muttered under his breath.
“Scumbag? What did she mean by that?” a voice asked behind him.
Luke spun around. Allison stood there, arms folded, an eyebrow arched in curious suspicion.
“Scumbag? Who said scumbag?” he stammered.
“That woman. She said it right to your face,” she replied calmly, though her eyes were tracking every twitch in his expression.
“She did? Wait… how long have you been standing there?”
“Just walked up. Want to explain?”
Luke opened his mouth but nothing came out. He’d tried to tell that story once before and failed. Some pasts were better left buried.
This book’s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
Overhead, a raven cawed. “Scumbag! Scumbag!” it mimicked, the tone eerily mocking.
Stupid bird. Luke glanced up and saw Evangeline’s raven circling, clearly enjoying the show. When he lowered his gaze, he noticed he wasn’t only under Allison’s scrutiny. Princess Charlie stood a few paces back, silent as always, her eyes cold and watchful. A knot tightened in his gut.
Double trouble!
Before he could answer, another voice broke in.
“There you are,” Eleanor said, appearing as if out of nowhere. “Didn’t mention it before, but I brought the archers to train in this sector. Some of them… really need it.”
Allison’s stare flicked away from Luke, seizing the interruption. “How bad are they?”
Luke drew a long breath, grateful. Thank you for saving me, Eleanor. You’re no saint, but if you were, I’d be on my knees thanking you right now.
‘If she were wearing a maid outfit, you’d already be proposing.’ Artemis teased inside his head.
He ignored the mental jab and focused on the conversation.
“Most of the archers training here are civilians,” Eleanor explained. “Even some with the archer class haven’t loosed an arrow in months. It’s like they’re still level one.”
The four of them moved through the training field, sidestepping sweat-drenched archers and straw targets.
“Got people without the archer class training too?” Luke asked.
“Yes. We’re trying to drill as many as we can. Once they get the skill rune, stamina will help offset their shots,” Eleanor replied in a lower voice.
Even without archer skills, stamina could boost some of the damage. A risky bet, but it made sense.
“And depending how we play it, they don’t even need perfect aim,” Allison added. “If an army comes, the archers fire together. That’s all we need.”
Eleanor nodded. Simple, but effective.




0 Comments