Chapter 544: Berserker Valkyrie

Luke stepped into Cassandra’s tent, ignoring the cluster of mages stationed around it, all specialists in magical barriers.

“Don’t let that guy in,” someone snapped, but Luke kept walking.

“Cassandra authorized him,” one of the mages escorting him replied.

Inside the massive tent, Luke found Cassandra seated in a wooden chair. Several people stood nearby, forming what looked like a small briefing chamber.

“What is it, American?” Cassandra asked. “It’s a little late to sell antidotes. We haven’t found a single alchemist left alive.”

She had only one arm now. The other, from what he’d overheard, had been torn off in battle.

“The bastard cut off the arm I use to wield my sword, and still had the nerve to take the blade with him,” she muttered.

“Miles?” Luke asked.

“No. My cousin. And traitor. Peter Weiss.”

“Lady Cassandra, you shouldn’t be sharing our internal business with this foreigner, and he shouldn’t even be here. He could be a traitor as well,” said a middle-aged man at her side, clearly one of her retainers.

“There’s no way for me to betray someone I’m not allied with,” Luke replied. “I came to ask what I gain by helping you win this war.”

The man slammed a hand on the table. “We are in the middle of a strategic meeting, and this man walks in talking nonsense? We’re dealing with a potential traitor inside the duke’s faction, my lady. We don’t have time for this.”

Cassandra had managed to stand her ground against the baron in battle, and she had almost won. But Peter’s betrayal blindsided her. It was a trap, and only a handful survived. The kingdom of Lagras was fraying at the seams.

“I want a favor from you if I win this war. Do I have your word?” Luke asked bluntly.

“We’re all trapped here together, foreigner. All of us will be executed by them. Or do you think the baron will let you walk away alive?”

“Bernard,” Cassandra said quietly, “let him speak.”

Luke laid out what he wanted.

“This is outrageous!” Bernard barked, and several others echoed him.

“I accept the terms,” Cassandra said at last, though her expression suggested she barely believed her own words.

***

Luke walked beside George, a sergeant by rank, though technically a noble, son of a viscount of Lagras.

“Why exactly do you want to see the corpses?” George asked.

“Just do what I asked,” Luke replied.

They reached a storage tent, and George began pulling bodies out of his dimensional item. These were some of the soldiers who’d fled with Cassandra after the ambush.

“Unfortunately, they didn’t make it,” George said. “They bled out before we reached safety.”

Luke activated the Rank Skill he’d taken from Henry, [Echoes of Death].

A ghostly shimmer rose from the corpses, their figures forming like afterimages. The world around him warped, shifting into the location where they’d died. The illusion breathed life into their final moments. They were running through a forest clearing with Cassandra, injured, leaning heavily on one of them.

“We need to reach a safe place, now,” one of the men said.

“The forest! We have to cut through the forest!” another shouted.

Arrows rained down. One soldier collapsed instantly. Others were already bleeding out.

“Damn you, Peter,” the illusionary Cassandra hissed. “He betrayed us.”

“Was it the duke?” someone asked.

“It had to be one of the two dukes. With the king sick, this is how they seize the throne. I have to return to Lagras, there could be betrayals everywhere. My father has to be warned.”

Luke watched as the men fell one by one, their last breaths echoing through the crumbling phantasm.

“Where are the bodies from the battle against the baron? I heard some of them made it out but died later. At least their corpses were stored in items,” Luke asked.

Soldiers like these never abandoned their fallen. For him, at this moment, that was a useful habit.

“They’re over there,” George said, pointing.

Luke finished examining the illusions, gathering every scrap of information about what had happened in the fight, then stepped away.

As he walked, Layla intercepted him.

“You bastard. What did you settle?” she demanded.

“We’re leaving this place soon, and I earned myself a noble’s favor. That’s all I can tell you,” Luke replied.

Layla pressed for more, but he gave her nothing. She was tense. After seeing the enemy camp for herself, it was hard not to be. The sheer number of siege towers, the war machines lined in rows, the way the other side had entrenched itself, it painted a grim picture.

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Luke stopped at the top of a hill, staring at the distant enemy army.

“They’re building even more towers, and their range keeps forcing us farther back,” George muttered. “They’re pushing us away from the exit. This war… we’ve lost it. They’re too well prepared.”

Cassandra’s group had planned to retreat with what remained of their troops, regroup at one of the temple bases, and stall for time until help arrived from outside the dimension. But with Peter and the baron controlling the only exit, outside help was never going to come. No one would even know they needed it. A noble like Peter could send letters, give false reports, control the flow of information. A clever plan, unfortunately.

Charlie and Angie stood behind Luke as he studied the siege towers.

“These things are the reason your army fell apart,” he said quietly. There were so many, and more were being built under heavy guard.

Luke summoned his throwing knives. They hovered around him, blades glinting. He grabbed them in pairs and activated [Shadow Mana Explosion]. He hurled the first set upward, then another, then another, launching them in rapid succession.