Chapter 352: The Night Before War

The night wind swept cold across the open field where, in just a few hours, the fate of nearly two thousand souls would be decided. Torches dotted the plain in uneven lines, their orange light flickering over faces worn thin by exhaustion and resolve. Shadows stretched and shifted like restless spirits, dancing across armor and tents.

Luke walked slowly between the rows of men and women waiting for their final orders. The air carried the heavy scent of burnt oil and iron. Everywhere he looked, he saw eyes fixed forward, hands trembling around spear shafts, bowstrings drawn tight, mages whispering protection spells under their breath. Everyone looked ready, or tried to.

There were eighteen hundred people preparing to leave the tutorial. Thirteen hundred stood here on the front lines. The remaining five hundred had stayed behind at the third fortress, non-combatants, mostly. Their absence would be felt in battle, but because they hadn’t needed to grind class levels, others had been able to kill more monsters and grow stronger. If the main plan failed, those five hundred would have a role in one of the backup strategies.

He passed under the shadow of a wooden watchtower, where archers stood like statues against the glow of the torches. Further ahead, members of the Haven embraced one another, trading quiet goodbyes laced with the unspoken truth that not all of them would see the sunrise.

Luke made his way toward the central tower. In the sea of motion and murmurs, he spotted two familiar figures, Cecilia and Eleanor. He approached with a tired half-smile.

“I know I’ve already said this,” he murmured, stopping in front of Eleanor. “But I’ll see you back on Earth when all this is over.”

They would be fighting on different fronts. She nodded, eyes steady, her face lit by the flames nearby.

“I’ll see you on Earth… James,” she said with a faint laugh, the kind people use to hide fear.

Luke’s smile deepened, small but genuine, and he turned to go. Before he could take two steps, Cecilia reached him.

Without a word, she pulled him into a quick hug, more instinct than choice, and pressed a folded letter into his hand.

He blinked, confused.

Cecilia met his gaze and signed something with her hands. The movements were soft and deliberate in the torchlight. He couldn’t catch every sign, but he understood enough. They were words of farewell.

He opened the letter.

“For everything you’ve done for us, as a member of the Haven. Tonight, we fight for everyone who died in that mine. Anna, Angelica, Philip, Victoria, and so many others, wherever they are, they’re cheering for us. See you on Earth, my friend.”

It was her way of communicating. She was mute, spoke through sign language, and knew Luke wouldn’t understand much of it. So she wrote instead.

Luke exhaled slowly, tucked the letter into his pocket, and whispered, “See you on Earth too.”

Leaving the tower behind, he walked toward the third fortress. The ground was soft beneath his boots, trampled and uneven from the constant movement of hundreds of soldiers. In the distance, hammers rang against metal, muffled voices echoing off stone. They needed at least fifty-one percent of the tutorial’s survivors inside the fortress to trigger the event. That was the rule. A portion of the soldiers and civilians had been assigned for that purpose alone, to make sure the system recognized their final stand.

Luke passed a few familiar faces along the way, Dustin, Quinn, Gilbert, Miriam, Eugene. Each one looked weighed down by the same invisible burden. When their eyes met, a single nod was enough. Farther ahead, near a row of half-dismantled tents, he spotted the healers’ gathering point. Jack was there, standing beside Thiara. Six hours. That was all the time they had to reach the castle, through an army and three powerful bosses.

Luke quickened his pace. He passed a group of women dressed in maid uniforms, Erza’s attendants turned soldiers. The shine of their armor mixed oddly with the fabric of their clothes, the flicker of torchlight casting uneven, pulsing reflections across the field.

At the fortress gates, he stopped. A few stone statues lined the path, watching him in silence like motionless judges waiting for a verdict. He took a slow breath and pulled a small stone from his pocket. Its surface shimmered faintly, gray-blue light pulsing in steady rhythm, the Beast Lord’s Stone.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

“Artemis,” Luke murmured.

“Hey.” The voice was close, calm and feminine, coming from the necklace around his neck.

“Nervous?” he asked, trying to disguise the tension in his voice.

“A little…”

Luke gave a thin, humorless smile. “I miss the days when our biggest problem was surviving the Beast Lord.”

“So do I,” Artemis replied, her voice carrying a trace of something almost human, melancholy, maybe.

“If you die… your soul goes back to the main stone, right? The one where Samael is?”

He spoke slowly, each word feeling heavier than the last. At the very least, he hoped Samael could deliver a message to his family back on Earth.

“Yes,” she answered after a pause. “That’s exactly what happens.”

Luke nodded once. “Don’t forget my message.”

“I won’t. But… I’m afraid too, you know.”

He frowned. “You’ll live. I’m the one about to meet death.”

Artemis let out a sound that was almost a sigh.

“If you die, the part of me inside this necklace dies too. In theory, I’ll be sent back to the main stone, but I don’t know if I’ll still be me. The version of me that talks to you, it grew here. It learned from you. I don’t have all the memories of the real Artemis. So… maybe I’ll just fade away.”

Luke kept walking, his voice low. “Don’t worry. We’re not dying. I always find a way. Remember Franky?”