The group split up, each member taking their assigned strategic position. In the distance, the hive loomed like a living monstrosity, and new ant hordes were already marching out.

Tension mounted, but Luke didn't stand around waiting for orders.

He had activated [Meditation], and Princess Charlie was resting within his soul. Time passed, and little by little, she began to regenerate what she had spent.

He opened her system interface.

A new subclass skill was available to choose. Three options:

[Focused Leap (Rare)]: A swift and precise jump, with concentrated momentum that launches the pugilist directly at the enemy.

[Energized Push (Rare)]: A stamina-infused shove that knocks enemies backward.

[Concentrated Kick (Rare)]: The pugilist channels all their strength into a single point, delivering a devastating kick with brutal power. The strike can knock the target down, break their stance, and interrupt actions.

Each option offered a different approach: mobility, control, or raw aggression.

Luke made a quick assessment. Focused Leap was useful, but Charlie already had [Spectral Charge], which covered similar ground. Energized Push offered field control, but against a swarm, knocking back a single enemy was rarely enough.

Concentrated Kick, on the other hand, was pure force. A strike that disrupted, destabilized, shattered defenses. That was what she needed.

[Princess Charlie has acquired the Second Class Skill: Concentrated Kick]

She didn't need evasive maneuvers. She needed to crush enemies before they crushed their allies.

The kick also fit perfectly with her hybrid combat style. Even with a sword in one hand and a spectral shield in the other, her legs remained weapons—allowing her to seamlessly alternate between Death Knight and Pugilist.

This way, both classes could level together.

He opened her status screen:

Name: Princess Charlie Level: 12 Rank: F Class: [Death Knight (Lvl 22)] 2nd Class: Pugilist (Lvl 5) Race: Skeleton Titles: [Servant of the Dark Lord] Health Points (HP): 950/950 Mana Points (MP): 580/580 Stamina: 1060/1060

Stats: Strength: 111 (151) Agility: 65 Endurance: 81 (106) Vitality: 95 Perception: 46 Intelligence: 58 Free Points: 4

It was too late to focus on mana or perception. Luke needed to make sure she could survive.

Stats Updated (Princess Charlie):

Vitality: 95 -> 99 Free Points: 4 -> 0 Health Points (HP): 950/950 -> 990/990

He poured everything into Vitality. Charlie needed to last longer in battle.

Luke walked up to Allison. She stood quietly, staring down a partially ruined street lit by scattered bursts of magic and makeshift torches.

"Feels like we don't get a single day of peace in this place…" she murmured, eyes fixed on the scene.

He stood beside her in silence for a few moments, watching the same street, before finally asking:

"So… is it true? Are you really from the Rhiannon family?"

Allison hesitated. "I-I… had my reasons for keeping that a secret."

"It's fine. Everyone has their secrets. I'm not judging." Luke shrugged. "Besides, you already told me your family worked for the World Government. I just… didn't realize you meant that kind of important."

He turned his head toward her, offering a slight smile. "To be honest, even if you had told me your last name, I probably wouldn't have known what it meant."

Allison let out a soft laugh. "And you? Are you really just a regular guy from Maine?"

"Yeah. Just a regular guy from Maine… who wants to know what happened to his mother."

Luke turned his gaze back to the street, his expression growing serious.

"That's why I agreed to be integrated into the system. I always wanted to meet someone important. Someone with real power. And to do that... I had to stand out. Survive. Make it back to Earth."

He looked at her, his eyes steady and direct.

"But now that I know who you are… if we make it out of this place alive… would you help me find out what happened to my mother during her tutorial?"

Luke tried to lighten the weight of the moment with a soft smile.

"I promise to give you my entire peanut butter stash. Assuming the ants haven't eaten it all."

Allison lowered her head slightly. "I… I'm sorry, Luke. If your mother died during a tutorial, that kind of information isn't accessible to regular humans. The World Government only learns anything if someone actually makes it out."

Luke sighed. "Yeah… I figured as much."

She looked at him with more softness in her eyes.

"My family serves a god. But representing a god doesn't mean we have direct access. Sometimes, the most we get is a message from an apostle—or not even that, just vague instructions. These gods came from other worlds. They're not as reachable as people think."

There was a pause, and then she added:

"But if we ever make it back to Earth… I'll try. I promise. If there's even the slightest chance to find out something, I'll look into it. Consider it a debt I owe you."

"Thank you," Luke replied.

They stood in silence for a while, taking in the scene around them—the crumbling buildings, scattered ant corpses, the dark sky of the Safe Zone trembling with the distant booms of magical explosions.

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"So this is it," Allison said. "All we have to do now is kill a Beast General. Easy, right? You already did it with the orcs."

She glanced sideways at him.

Luke gave a quiet chuckle. "That was pure luck. But I have a theory."

"What theory?"

"Have you noticed Beast Captains always have higher levels than Orc Captains?"

Allison nodded slowly.

"Then… it's very possible that the Beast General is stronger than Morvat."

Before she could answer, screams echoed through the streets. Fighters scrambled into position. The sound of chitin striking stone, weapons being raised, and shouted commands filled the air.

The ants were coming.

Even the non-combatants from the Haven were firing support arrows, trying to ease the mana and stamina load on the main group.

The time had come.

Luke and Allison joined Angelica and the others, moving quickly toward the target.

They advanced side by side, leaping from rooftop to rooftop. The ground below trembled with the stampede of insect legs. The roars of battle were already rising.

And in the distance, looming on the horizon like a black tumor on the land...

Stood the hive.

***

Ahead, ten archers moved in tight formation, eyes sharp, every step calculated. They weren't just support—they led the frontline, guided by Perception-based skills that turned each arrow into a homing missile. Living radars in motion.

"Another group incoming!" one of them called out.

Combatants summoned spears from their storage items, mana-charged weapons gleaming in the light, perfect for knocking enemies off buildings without closing the distance. A mage raised his arms, and spectral limbs burst from the ground, cradling chunks of debris like offerings to the sky. Then they launched—stone meteors crashing into ant clusters with devastating force. Warriors swept in behind, blades carving elegant arcs through chitin and muscle.

Allison leapt forward, katana drawn. Ice formed in the clouds above and then fell—a rain of crystalline stalactites, sharp enough to pierce steel.

But something shifted.

Arrows flew fast.

"Down!" an archer shouted.

Barriers snapped into place. Mages gritted their teeth as the air lit with tension. The team dropped to the rooftop, scrambling behind chimneys and shattered walls. Angelica cursed under her breath, bow in hand.

"Shit…"

Then they saw them—silhouettes lining the far end of the street. Human shapes, posted on rooftops, in windows, behind makeshift cover.

Renegades.

"What the hell is this?" Jonathan muttered, tightening his grip on his sword.

"Why are they blocking us?!" Angelica rose, glaring across the gap.

One of the renegades stepped forward, flaming spear in hand. "The Safe Zone's finished. Accept it. Run while you still can. Push any further and we'll cut you down."

Another voice joined him, female, cold, resolute. "I've got nothing against you. But if you get in the way, that'll change."

A bolt surged toward them, too fast.

Charlie moved first. Her spectral barrier rose just in time. The lightning ricocheted. Angelica barely ducked the rebound. She slammed her fist into the rooftop.

"Dammit."

Below them, the streets swarmed with enemies. But above, humans waited with drawn weapons and grim resolve.

"You're insane!" Paul shouted. "You want the Safe Zone to fall?!"

A renegade screamed from the barricades, eyes wild. "Bartholomew must die! That's all that matters!"

Then the sky lit up.

Arrows glowed midair and then detonated on contact. The rooftop shook. The group scattered, leaping from one building to the next as explosions rocked the skyline. Elemental magic streaked overhead—lightning, fire, stone—chaos blooming in every direction.

Angelica sprinted with her bow drawn. "I thought they'd only attack if we pushed forward!"

"Being close counts, idiot!" someone shouted back, voice tight with panic.

Luke crouched beside her, gaze locked on the renegade snipers. "I'm going in."

"Wait, let's try to talk to them," Angelica turned, but he was already gone.

A black blur cut across the rooftops. Dash. Leap. His cloak unfurled behind him like wings of shadow. For a second, he was just a silhouette sliding across the skyline like a falling blade.

Then he landed right in the center of the renegade squad.

A crossbow aimed at his chest. He kicked the weapon upward. The shot fired harmlessly into the air, sparks raining down. One step. Hilt to skull. The man dropped.

The others raised weapons, but it was too late.

Haven forces charged, following Luke's path. Allison unleashed a wave of frost that swallowed the skyline in white, obscuring the mages' line of sight. Fireballs fizzled into harmless sparks.

Two renegades lunged at Luke. He turned, sidestepped. One went over the balcony with a scream. The other took both feet to the chest and hit the ground, windless.

Then came the mist.

A swirling vortex of black vapor consumed the balcony. Luke vanished inside it, along with the last renegade.

Glass shattered.

Both of them crashed through a window, falling into the building below.

Silence.

Inside the ruin, dust and darkness. The renegade rose first, dagger flashing. He threw.

Luke caught the blade mid-spin, twisted his wrist, and threw it back. It struck. The man cried out, staggered.

Luke charged. His kukris moved like extensions of his will—sharp, fluid, merciless. A kick to the chest sent the renegade flying into a pillar.

Luke stepped forward.

His outline wavered. Mist clung to his skin.

And something darker began to take shape, something inhuman, something terrifying.

"AAAAHHH!" screamed the renegade, terrified as he watched Luke rise from the floor like a black mist dementor.

Luke materialized atop the man's chest, a cold kukri pressed to his throat.

Their eyes met in the dark.

"Now," Luke said, his voice devoid of emotion, "you're going to answer a few questions."

He hadn't killed anyone. Not yet. Because something was hammering in the back of his mind—something more urgent than blood.

"You… I remember you! You really survived the orc territory!" the renegade said, eyes wide with shock.

Luke didn't respond. He just stared.

"I want to know how Marshall pulled this off," he said flatly. "Don't give me any crap about coincidences. A perfectly timed attack during an ant invasion? This was planned."

The renegade gave a short, mocking laugh.

"And what difference does that make?"

"It makes all the difference," Luke replied. "If he put this much effort and strategy into taking the second fortress, we'd already be one step away from getting out of this cursed tutorial."

"Getting out of the tutorial?" The renegade let out a loud, scornful laugh. "Only after Bartholomew is dead!"

Then Luke asked the question that had been eating away at him.

"What's Marshall's true goal?"

"Isn't it obvious? Kill Bartholomew. Kill everyone inside. Complete our revenge!" the renegade shouted, full of rage.

"And then?" Luke pressed, eyes locked on his. "After Bartholomew's dead… what will he do?"

The renegade froze. His face went blank, like it was the first time someone had ever made him think about what came after the revenge.

"You want vengeance so badly… but none of you stopped to think about what comes next?"

"That doesn't matter! If your family had been killed because of him, you'd do the same thing!"

"Of course I would," Luke said without hesitation. "Which is exactly why I'm worried about what comes after. A man with nothing left to lose, no emotional anchor… You really think he's going to just open the way and let us leave?"

"W-what are you saying?"

"Marshall has nothing left," Luke said, almost in disbelief at the words coming out of his own mouth. "That man might actually destroy the mechanism. Lock everyone inside. End the tutorial—not with victory, but with extinction."

The renegade paled. "I-I don't know. N-no one ever thought about that…"

Luke closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

That's when it hit.

'BOOM!'

A powerful explosion rocked the building.

He ran to the nearest window, heart pounding. Smoke rose in the distance, coming from the direction of Bastion.

The great double gates of the fortress—they had fallen.

Cheers echoed faintly in the distance.

Luke spotted a group pouring into Bastion, and he had no doubt—

Marshall was among them.

His eyes widened.

"…Holy shit."

He exhaled, trying to steady his breath.

"My only chance of getting out of this world now depends on whether that bastard Bartholomew survives."

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