Luke reached the castle grounds, where the trail grew barren and lifeless. The few blades of grass were withered and gray, nothing like the vibrant green of the surrounding forest. No enemies lurked nearby. The angel mask covered his face, his ticket to moving through the capital without being torn apart. The statues thought he was one of them.

"No… not yet…" a voice whispered.

There was only one side effect to wearing the mask for too long: sometimes, he heard a woman's voice. At first, he thought he was losing it. But after a while, he realized it was always the same words, always in the same tone: 'Not yet.'

It belonged to the Fallen Stone Angel. Not constant, only in certain moments, as if the slumbering spirit inside the mask stirred reluctantly, displeased at being disturbed.

Ahead loomed the massive black castle. At night, torches burned in its windows, though nothing moved within. The place did have undead, but Luke had cleared them out on previous visits.

During his time roaming the capital, one of his main goals had been to find the Midnight Lord. If he could kill two of the lords here, only the Orc Lord would remain. He didn't care about the orc itself, the prize was the loot. From the Beast Lord, he'd gotten a Familiar Rune, a legendary item. Useless to him in practice, since the beast trapped within wasn't exactly friendly, but still proof that the lords dropped rare treasures. What would the Midnight Lord yield?

The monster was the master of the Midnight Wardens and Midnight Watchers. Luke suspected it was some form of undead. The Wardens were zombies. The Watchers… well, those were like zombie souls bound into stone statues. The Fallen Stone Angel was an angel's spirit sealed in stone, now trapped in the mask. It fit his theory well enough.

But this was as far as he could go, not just in the castle area, but on the capital's map. The castle and the long road leading up to it were on the other side of a massive translucent barrier. It was inaccessible. And perhaps the castle ahead wasn't even real. It could be a mirage, sitting just beyond the barrier.

When he placed his hand on that invisible wall, a notification appeared.

[To lower the barrier to the castle area, please activate all three tutorial mechanisms] **Mechanisms Activated: 1/3**

Bartholomew had already triggered Bastion's mechanism, creating the Safe Zone and putting Luke one step closer to going home. He had killed the guardian of the third mechanism, the Beast Lord, leaving it unclaimed. All that remained was to return to the Wild Zone and activate the second.

The problem was, triggering the third mechanism would launch a tutorial event. He pulled up his system notification history, scrolling as far back as it would go, searching for one in particular. There it was, the message he'd gotten when he first approached the statue of the king standing before Bastion.

*Mission Statue Activation Detected*

You have reached the heart of the kingdom, the Grand Capital. Well done, Challenger. The fate of this world now lies in your hands.

Hidden across the vast city lie three ancient mechanisms. They hold shut the castle gates, sealing the path forward. You must find them. Activate them. Only then will the way open. But be warned, the journey ahead will test you.

Each mechanism is protected by one of the Three Lords, sovereigns of their domains and unyielding in their power.

- The Orc Lord, who bathes the weak in blood and rules through brute force.

- The Beast Lord, whose primal dominion commands the creatures of the wild.

- The Midnight Lord, the tireless guardian of the Capital and eternal servant of the throne.

But know this, there is a cost. Once the ancient seal is broken, the Midnight Wardens will never again rest. They will rise and march without end, consuming all that stands in their path. Even the long-abandoned lands will fall once more beneath their shadow. The Midnight Lord himself will awaken, bringing swift and merciless punishment to those who dared to defy the sealed order.

Beyond the castle gates lies a portal, the only exit from this world. But passage through it is not freely given. It is watched endlessly, guarded by forces that do not permit escape without challenge.

At the very heart of the castle, upon a throne forgotten by time, waits the Midnight King. Those who cross into his domain must face the Witch, once sealed away for endangering the balance of the realm. But she is not the final trial. For the one who truly rules these lands watches still, unseen, awaiting the moment to pass final judgment.

"This is the last big hurdle," he murmured.

If he triggered the third mechanism, everyone in the Safe Zone would be slaughtered in a war unleashed by an army of creatures. It was here, standing in this place, that he truly grasped the scale of what such a war would be.

Still, most of the major problems were already handled. With the Beast Lord gone, the third mechanism was wide open. Nothing stood in his way now.

"Hey, Franky, you know what the Midnight Lord looks like?"

Frankzaroth, the Beast Lord, hadn't exactly embraced the nickname.

"I am not speaking to you, human. Do not bother me," the stone muttered.

Luke hadn't made any real progress in befriending the serpent trapped inside it.

"And my name is Frankzaroth! Not Franky!"

"Alright, back to good old Rock it is," Luke replied. "Your name's too ugly anyway."

"It is not!" the stone snapped.

"Yeah, no, your name's crap," Artemis chimed in. "Seriously, who names themselves Frankzaroth? Sounds like someone who'd crap their own pants." She burst out laughing.

The Beast Lord clicked his tongue and went quiet.

Luke kept walking, thoughts turning over in his head. Facing the lords to activate the mechanisms wasn't mandatory. Someone could have triggered the third without ever fighting the serpent, just by doing what Luke did and escaping. But ignoring the lords came with its own problems. If the war began when the third mechanism was activated, every lord would join the battle, each leading their army. Taking them out beforehand meant those forces wouldn't show up.

That was one of the main reasons he hunted for the Midnight Lord. If he killed it first, maybe activating the third mechanism wouldn't send the Midnight Wardens into the fight. The trouble was, if his suspicion was right and the Midnight Lord was holed up inside the castle, there'd be no way around the war. It would happen, at least with one lord and their army. Which meant all he really had to do was kill the Orc Lord and make sure its forces didn't take part in the tutorial's final event.

"That would just leave the Midnight Lord and his army, the Witch, and the Midnight King." Those were the last bosses of the tutorial. After that, he could go home.

He glanced at Charlie. "Think we can handle it alone?"

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

She shook her head.

"You really should have more faith in me…"

***

Luke lay stretched out on the bed in the cave where Samael and Kalysto had once stayed. It had become his resting spot in this part of the world. A day had passed since he'd hit level 56 in his class.

He sat up, already catching the mouthwatering scent of the meat he'd left roasting over the fire.

"Finally!" Artemis's voice rang out. "I'm starving!"

"You're always starving," Luke replied.

Two months had gone by since he'd killed the Beast Lord. In other words… Luke had taken a vacation.

And honestly, he'd earned it. From the moment he'd fought the Midnight Warden, it had been chaos, getting chased into that place by the Beast Lord, meeting a demon god, grinding like hell to learn a profession, nearly being melted by a giant acid-spitting snake, getting locked inside a death trap of a forest, barely sleeping for days. And then there was the three-day countdown hanging over his head, the timer that would throw him right back into an area where that same monstrous snake would be waiting to eat him alive. When it was all finally over… he just stopped.

Not completely, he'd poked around, done a little investigation here and there, but in terms of leveling, he hadn't gone far. Six levels was still impressive in the fifties, but most of that came from casually hunting monsters with his bow.

He started to whistle as he picked up a watering can.

"What are you doing?" Artemis asked. "The fire with the boar meat is in the other direction!"

"Everything in its time. My plants come first."

She groaned.

Luke dipped his hand into the water, letting it glow a soft green for a moment before sprinkling it over his little garden. He tended the beds carefully, almost fondly.

If he'd made real progress anywhere during his break, it was in his profession. Leveling it had gotten tougher, but he'd already pushed his Botany of Mother Freya to level 49. Along the way, he'd picked up two skills, older ones he'd skipped before, but now saw the value in.

One of them was Soil Analysis.

[Soil Analysis (Uncommon)]: Allows the botanist to examine soil properties, identifying its quality, composition, and compatibility with different types of plants. Essential for ensuring the healthy growth of specific flora.

It was more useful than it looked. Luke needed ways to gain experience in his botany profession that didn't involve abusing Plant Growth or feeding his plants with his blood, methods the system didn't reward much. No, the best way was the long way, plant them, let them grow naturally, and collect the reward when they matured. If he ever managed to run a massive farm, every fully grown plant would be free experience. Literal farming for levels.

And on vacation? That was exactly the pace he wanted. No hunting for monsters, no pushing himself. Just reading, tending plants, and sleeping.

Well… and one other pastime.

Sometimes, during the day, he'd blindfold the statues. Then he'd move them around, placing them ridiculously close together. When night came and they started to move, they'd stumble right into each other, clumsily bumping and colliding until they knocked the blindfolds off.

Luke never got tired of it.

While watering his plants, he glanced at the other skill he'd picked up during this time, another old one, but with a hidden value he'd only recently noticed.

[Botanical Purification (Uncommon)]: Using magic, the botanist can purify any natural water source, removing both physical and energetic impurities. Essential for crafting potions and mixtures that require an ultra-pure liquid base.

With water that clean, his plants absorbed nutrients far more efficiently. And, of course, it meant he no longer had to worry about drinking from questionable streams. The system might make him resilient enough to shrug off most diseases, but there was something reassuring about knowing every sip was perfectly pure. Plus, it gave him the best possible base for potion-making.

Luke hummed a tune as he tended to the greenery.

"I hope you two didn't start fighting again," he told one plant, crouching beside it. "Stealing nutrients from the soil out of jealousy is not how sisters behave."

A pointed cough came from Artemis.

"I'm hungry, you know. Unlike these little plants of yours, I can't live off photosynthesis or mana."

"You're a soul. You don't even need to eat," he said, ignoring her as he kept working.

Once the watering was done, he moved toward his bed. He straightened the blanket, folded it neatly, and even set it aside for washing, it had been a few days since he'd last changed it.

"Luke," Artemis said, her tone almost thoughtful. "You tend plants, you can cook, and you're obsessed with cleanliness. You'd make an excellent wife."

"Alright, I get it. You're definitely hungry."

He headed for the fire, where a large cut of meat was roasting. Slicing off a generous piece, he held it close to the necklace. It vanished instantly.

From within the pendant came the sounds of Artemis savoring each bite. "I want more!"

"Finish that one first, idiot."

Luke turned back to his plants. "You know, I think I finally understand why you were the Goddess of the Hunt. Bet it was just because you wanted to eat."

"Of course. If I wanted food, I had to hunt for it. So I became the best at it."

He shook his head. "Sad thing is… that actually makes sense."

This time he wasn't watering; he was harvesting. He'd planted anything he could get his hands on, vegetables, herbs, fruits. Today, it was carrots. Normally, they'd take about sixty days to mature. He could've sped up the process with magic, but that wouldn't give him experience. Instead, he'd taken the slow but efficient route.

And "slow" was relative here. Growing in a mana-rich environment, cared for by a botanist who could analyze soil to find the most fertile ground, feed it with potion-enhanced fertilizers, and water it with magically purified water, the growth time dropped to just over a week.

Luke dug into the soil, pulling up a handful of bright, crisp carrots, just as a notification appeared.

*Your profession [Botanist of Mother Freya] has reached Level 50! (+2 Str, +2 Agi, +2 End, +2 Vit, +2 Per, +2 Int, +4 Free Points)*

**[You have reached Level 43! Half-Demon (Rank F)] (+1 bonus point to all attributes, +1 free point)**

A slow smile spread across his face. This was the final milestone he'd been waiting for, the last piece before he could resume his journey to activate the mechanisms. This was the message he'd been hoping for, proof that it was finally time to return to the Wild Zone.

[Your profession Botanist of Mother Freya is undergoing a mandatory evolution!]

And when the options appeared… that smile only grew wider.

***

Erza Grimhart lounged in the steaming bath of her quarters in Bastion, the water still pleasantly hot. The maids always made sure of that, either by hauling in boiled water or using a flame skill to heat it directly.

One of the few pleasures Erza allowed herself outside of killing was this: being naked and submerged in hot water, letting it wash over her skin until the rest of the world seemed to vanish.

Standing in the corner, holding a towel, was another Erza.

A snap of her fingers brought the other closer. This one was different, dressed in a maid's uniform, eyes softer, almost timid. Her presence lacked the sharp, predatory edge of the real Erza. Up close, her skin revealed the truth: smooth, cold porcelain.

She was Erza's doll, born from a bloodline skill passed down in her family. The founder of House Grimhart, a woman, had married a god from a universe where beings weren't made of flesh, but of wood, stone, porcelain, even clay. From that god, the Grimharts inherited their strange gift.

For Erza, it had manifested at birth. The god had given her a second self, a porcelain twin, created the instant she drew her first breath. They'd been raised side by side, like sisters, though the truth was far simpler: the doll was a tool.

When Erza turned eighteen and entered the tutorial, choosing her class, the doll had been allowed to choose one too. The god had never told her the doll's full potential, only that, like Erza, it had a system of its own.

"Dry me," Erza said, eyes closing as she lifted her arms.

The doll stepped behind her, slowly patting the water from her back, then her sides. The towel slid across her stomach and crept upward, brushing her breasts before gliding to her neck. Then it tightened, yanked hard in an attempt to strangle her.

The cord of fabric bit into her throat.

The god's gift had always been a curse as well. He'd warned her family: dolls envy the living, and they will try to become real. Erza's had been promised the chance, if it could kill her.

And so, since the age of three, they'd played their little game. Dolls didn't sleep. Erza had lived her life sharing a bed with an enemy who had tried to kill her with poison, blades, ropes, and bare hands.

Smiling, Erza seized the towel, wrenched it free, and spun, catching her porcelain twin by the throat.

"Nice try," she murmured, voice edged with amusement. "Predictable… but nice."

She shoved the doll back against the wall. "Dry me."

With visible irritation, the doll resumed her task.

That was the rule: if Erza survived, the doll would grant her a temporary truce. For fifteen years, this had been their life, day after day, a brutal training born of bloodline and cruelty. And it was working. The Grimharts were forging the deadliest assassin their family had ever seen.

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