Chapter 347: The Sleeping Army
by“Luke, I wanted to thank you. Really. For the healing potions,” Jack said.
“You don’t owe me for that. I owed you a few favors, that’s all,” Luke replied.
Over the past few weeks, he had pushed himself to brew more healing potions. It hadn’t been easy. With help gathering catalysts and ingredients that couldn’t be grown locally, he’d managed to craft eighteen potions, each one restoring 503 HP. He and Allison kept three apiece, while Erza, Evangeline, Mason, Jack, Eleanor, and Ronan received two each.
In total, there were 1,813 survivors in the tutorial. That was how many they’d been able to gather. Whether others were still hiding out there somewhere, he didn’t know. Bandits, stragglers, or even Jonathan—if they existed, they weren’t part of the count. Out of those 1,813 people, roughly five hundred were civilians, including children. They would remain behind the walls of the third fortress once the war began. The rest, 1,300 strong, would march to battle. Luke and his small team would break through and push toward the castle.
Between the treasure chests from events and Bartholomew’s accumulated stock from seven years of Safe Zone trade, they’d amassed a total of 5,456 healing potions. Each soldier going to war received four, capable of restoring 150 HP apiece, along with distributed supplies of stamina and mana potions.
Luke himself received four additional healing potions from the special division. In total, he could recover up to 2,100 HP in battle, a luxury by tutorial standards.
“Where’s Allison?” Luke asked.
“Still handing out gold,” Jack said.
“Still?”
Every coin gathered from chests and the three fortresses was being redistributed among the survivors as a kind of compensation for their years trapped in this world. Time lost couldn’t be repaid, but at least they’d return home with enough wealth to start fresh. A minimum amount was set for everyone, and bonuses were awarded for major contributions to the tutorial.
Luke’s list was long: opening the capital gate, defeating the Beast Lord alone, discovering two mechanisms, clearing the area around the third, activating the second mechanism, and they even wanted to include a future bonus for activating the third and defeating the Midnight King.
In the end, he refused most of it. Instead, the core team pooled their bonuses together and divided everything equally. It wasn’t about gold anymore. It was about finishing what they’d started and surviving long enough to see the end.
***
When he reached the third fortress, Luke found a long line stretching past a tent guarded by soldiers in armor marked with the Rhiannon crest, Allison’s personal troop. The people waiting were there to collect their rewards, the gold being distributed to every survivor.
Peeking into the tent, he saw Allison speaking with Miriam, Eugene, and Gilbert as they handled the endless flow of people.
“I’ve been pretty useless these last few days,” he muttered, watching from a distance.
He’d barely seen Allison or any of the others lately; everyone was always busy with something. Allison especially. He only managed to speak with her during war meetings, and even then, it was all strategy and logistics. She was different in those moments, sharper, more serious.
“Guess she’s got new friends now. Happens,” he said, mostly to himself. “What do you think?”
Luke took a bite of a sandwich from his bag and leaned against one of the statues of the sleeping army. Few dared to come near them. The statues stretched across several city blocks—archers, knights, even horses—all frozen mid-march. People feared them so much that barricades had been set up to block the streets, just to make sure no one accidentally brushed against them.
He glanced up at the towering figure beside him. “You’re just decoration,” he said.
Using Identify confirmed it: ordinary stone sculptures. Still, it was hard not to find the whole thing unsettling.
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“Even Charlie and Artemis have abandoned me,” he went on. “They’re with Anne now, doing… whatever it is they’re doing. Guess it’s just me and the baby snake.”
“Who are you calling a baby?!” a familiar voice snapped from inside his bag.
Luke reached in and pulled out the familiar rune, the one sealing Franky, the Beast Lord.
“Well, hello to you too, Franky. You’ve been awfully quiet lately,” Luke said.
“Because you keep me out of your inventory! I don’t want to see you, and I sure as hell don’t want to talk to you,” Franky growled.
He’d gotten moodier by the day.
“Maybe you’re jealous?” Luke teased.
“Jealous? Of you?” Franky let out a raspy laugh. Luke sighed, stuffed the rest of his sandwich back into the bag, and started walking again.
“Jealous that you won’t be the one to kill me. Maybe it’ll be the monster in the castle instead,” Luke said with a faint smile.
“I’m rooting for the monster,” Franky spat. “I hope it rips out your heart, your guts, your—”
Luke cut him off by flicking the rune back into his inventory. “Alright, no negativity on what might be my last day alive.”
***




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