Luke walked across the battlefield, the place that would soon host the final war of the tutorial. Months had passed since the survivors had claimed it, and the land had transformed beyond recognition. Wooden and stone archer towers dotted the terrain, each built with careful purpose. Further ahead, rows of catapults stood ready, their frames tense with potential destruction.

Yet the biggest question still hung in the air: once the barrier fell, would the enemy charge across the field, or would they remain waiting on the other side, mirroring their defenses? No one knew. Which meant they had to prepare for both, either hold the ground against an assault or launch one themselves. So they planned for both.

"Shields!" a trainer barked. A squad of soldiers pulled heavy iron shields from their storage and snapped into formation.

"Protect the mage!"

The soldiers sprinted into position, forming a wall around the robed figure.

Luke kept moving, observing their drills. It would be their final training before the war. After this, they would all enter Meditation to recover and stabilize their focus. Some tents housed healers who were constantly at work, crafting bandages, brewing salves, or tending to the wounded. It didn't matter if someone was missing just a single hit point; everyone was expected to march into battle at a full hundred percent.

As he walked, Luke opened Charlie's interface window. The Princess had reached the peak of her current rank, but as his servant, her progression followed different rules than his. At the top of the screen, a glowing message pulsed:

[The Evolution of Servant Princess Charlie (Skeleton) to Rank E will occur once the Dark Lord evolves to Rank E.]

It was somewhat obvious to Luke that this would happen, although he thought that maybe, since she was a monster who already had a system before becoming his servant, she wouldn't need to go through the requirement of completing the tutorial.

Another unusual thing that happened with Princess Charlie was that she didn't receive a rank skill. He couldn't quite understand why, even though the answer was right there at the top of the interface, "Servant of the Dark Lord System." It wasn't like his own system; it was a modified version made for a servant.

He didn't have anyone else to ask about it other than Allison, and even she didn't have deep knowledge about how the system worked. Besides, Charlie was a monster, not a human. Maybe that was why she didn't get a rank skill. If monsters really received rank skills, then the salamanders and minotaurs he had fought, all above level fifty, would probably have used at least one unique skil different from the others. But he had no way of knowing for sure.

Whatever the reason, Charlie hadn't gained a Rank Skill. Instead, she had unlocked a race skill, one that had been "in the process of awakening" since she hit level fifty.

[Race Skill awakening in progress…]

That message had been lingering for days. Whatever awaited her at level fifty still hadn't fully manifested.

But it wasn't all bad news. When Charlie's second class, Black Ash Fighter, reached level sixty, an evolution of her old Pugilist class, she had gained something far greater: an Epic Skill.

[Twin Meteor Fists (Epic)]: Channeling the combined power of [Power Punch], [Flame], [Flame Fist], and [Flame Aura], the Black Ash Fighter heats both fists until they blaze with overwhelming intensity. With a swift, focused motion, they unleash two condensed flaming fists that surge forward like meteors, erupting in flames upon impact. The strike triggers a twin explosion, scattering waves of heat and fiery energy across the point of impact.

The power was immense, and they had tested it enough times to know. Charlie could fire something akin to a fireball, except it wasn't a ball at all. It was a fist made of flame. She could launch one from each hand, and when they struck, the impact exploded with devastating force. It wasn't something she could use near Luke or even near herself, but the destructive potential was undeniable. She finally had a ranged attack worthy of her strength.

Closing Charlie's interface, Luke kept walking until the rhythmic clang of metal against metal filled the air. The blacksmithing zone was alive with motion and heat. The air shimmered from the forges, thick with smoke and the smell of iron. Workers rushed past carrying crates of coal while assistants moved between the forges, delivering glowing rods of metal and tools wherever they were needed.

When Luke reached one of the smaller workshops, he spotted Ronan there. The man was shirtless, his skin streaked with soot and sweat.

"Hey, Luke," Ronan greeted, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

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"I came for the arrow," Luke said.

Ronan set down the heavy hammer he had been using and walked toward a nearby workbench. "Been letting this beauty cool for about an hour," he said, gesturing proudly.

Lying there was a single arrow, the same Beast Lord fang Luke had carried for so long, now reforged into something lethal and elegant. The head was unlike any normal arrowhead: larger, denser, and wickedly sharp.

"We had to break it carefully," Ronan explained. "The fang's hollow inside, and unlike wood, bone fractures easily if you don't treat it right." The last part came out with a wry grin, like a craftsman's private joke.

Luke picked it up. It was heavy, heavier than he had expected.

"Unfortunately, once you separate part of the fang from the main structure, it loses most of its residual magic," Ronan went on. "Some pieces revert to ordinary bone."

Luke nodded, running his fingers along the carved surface. It made perfect sense. His Precise Extraction skill worked the same way with plants; lose the balance, lose the essence.

"The most dangerous part of any fang is the tip," he said, examining it with quiet admiration. "In the Beast Lord's fang, the root and the point are where the magic gathers the strongest. Once you split the bone, the removed section stops resonating with the rest. It's like holding a knife: your grip channels energy, strengthens it. Let go, and it's just a piece of metal again. That's what happened here. The bone became ordinary once disconnected from the source."

Ronan let out a low whistle, impressed.

"It's the same with magical plants," Luke added.

Ronan turned his attention back to the weapon, clearly satisfied with his handiwork. "Go on," he said. "Use Identify."

[Fang Arrow of a Jormungandr (Epic)]

Description: An arrow forged over several days from the fang of a Jormungandr. Its bone, scale, and sinew still carry the beast's savage essence. The shaft has unnatural density and resilience, nearly as hard as tempered steel, and strikes with the rhythm of the serpent's lunge.

Upon impact, the arrow pierces deeply, driving forward with enough momentum to punch through full plate, thick scales, and even reinforced shields. It tears bone, splits siege armor, and embeds itself with such force that it can pin its target in place.

Its power grants increased Lethality and Penetration. In skilled hands, it can be wielded like a harpoon capable of felling even the mightiest foe.

'Crafted by: Eleanor, Ronan, and Mason.'

Enchantments:

[Raven Feather]: The shaft is fletched with feathers from an undead raven, stabilizing flight, maximizing range, and granting surgical precision, making the arrow nearly impossible to evade once fired.

"You even managed to get your names into the item descriptions," Luke remarked.

"Merchant-type professions and a few others can alter product descriptions," Ronan replied. "Some fields are mandatory and can't be changed, but the rest can be customized."

Luke found that fascinating and a little concerning. If a merchant could tweak an item's text, then surely criminals with forgery skills could manipulate descriptions to sell counterfeit gear.

"But…" Ronan continued, "during the forging process, some of the bones kept the monster's magic even after being cut. So we did this."

He set several arrows on the workbench. Their tips weren't as large or as sharp as the one Luke held, but the texture was unmistakable: bone.

"Wait… more arrows from the Beast Lord?" Luke asked, genuinely surprised by the number.

"We managed to make twenty more," Ronan said with a grin. "Honestly, most of the work was Eleanor's. She wanted it to be a surprise. Even though she never unlocked an epic combat skill as a blacksmith, she did get one that helps with fine crafting, perfect for delicate arrowwork."

Luke picked one up, the faint glimmer of runic patterns catching his eye.

[Jormungandr Arrow (Ultra-Rare)]: An arrow forged from fragments of a Jormungandr fang, its material retaining the creature's incredible density and resilience. This composition grants high piercing power and fracture resistance, capable of penetrating scales, reinforced hides, and dense materials without breaking.

"I'm impressed," Luke admitted.

"They're not as powerful as the original," Ronan said. "The gap between ultra-rare and epic is big. But these are still the strongest arrows in the entire army."

"I'll save them for emergencies," Luke replied.

Arrows of that "grade" were perfectly suited to his system's stats, carrying an innate damage multiplier that stacked with the rarity bonus of his bow. He was holding a weapon capable of massive devastation.

"I don't have my storage item with me," Luke said. "You got a crate? Or maybe a quiver?"

"Give me a second," Ronan said, heading toward a chest in the corner.

While he searched, Luke's attention drifted to the other prototypes scattered across the table.

[Salamander Flame Bomb (Rare)]: A cannonball forged around the core of a Flame Salamander. The core still radiates heat and holds raw fire within. Upon impact, the ammunition detonates in a concentrated fiery explosion, burning everything nearby.

[Flame Arrow (Uncommon)]: An arrow whose tip was carved from the fangs of a Flame Salamander, retaining its living fire magic. When it strikes, the tip ignites, inflicting direct fire damage and potentially setting the impact area ablaze. Ideal for both combat and controlled burns.

They were clearly preparing for large-scale destruction.

Luke almost asked for one of the Flame Arrows, but held back. They were limited in number and far more useful in the hands of the soldiers who would be firing into enemy hordes. If things went according to plan, he wouldn't spend much time on the front lines anyway. His task was to break through with the strike team to reach the castle and eliminate the true threats.

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