The Sovereign System.

Luke's mind replayed his conversation with Hayden earlier, even as he tucked into the dinner laid out before him. Kayson, Deputy General Tryst, Arthur, and Brian had been summoned to partake in the feast under the guise of celebrating their victory on the battlefield.

Yet despite their triumph, the atmosphere remained heavy. Unease clung to the air, thickened by the General's mere presence. Coupled with Luke's own troubled thoughts, it made for an uncomfortable meal.

No one drank. No one seemed eager to revel in the moment, despite the undeniable fact that they had secured a decisive victory over the Qin army.

Thankfully, Tryst was the first to excuse himself, citing exhaustion from the battle. It was the perfect opening for the others to take their leave. Luke wasted no time, following suit with Kayson, Arthur, and Brian, all of whom were dismissed by Hayden with little more than a distracted nod.

Stepping outside, Luke inhaled deeply, greedily drinking in the crisp night air. A weight lifted from his shoulders as soon as he left the General's presence. He tilted his head back, eyes tracing the scattered stars in the sky.

'I wonder if it looks the same as it did back on Earth?' he mused, his thoughts momentarily drifting.

Arthur and Brian soon bid their goodbyes, leaving Luke and Kayson alone as they strolled through the fortress streets. The cool night air carried the distant sounds of the garrison—low murmurs of conversation, the occasional clang of metal, and the rhythmic steps of patrolling soldiers.

After a moment of silence, Kayson finally spoke. "So? What did the General say that's got you so rattled, brother?"

Luke let out a humorless chuckle. Kayson had always been perceptive, though Luke doubted he could have hidden his anxiety even if he tried.

"Hayden wants to send us to the Royal Military Academy in the capital," he admitted, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

Kayson halted mid-step, visibly taken aback. "Truly?" he asked, disbelief lacing his tone. "I've heard only the best pupils from the major noble families are sent there. Even I wouldn't qualify with my background…" His voice trailed off.

Luke knew what he meant without him having to say it outright. Luke was, at least on paper, a commoner. Whatever discrimination he had faced at Clayton City's Academy would pale in comparison to what awaited him in the capital.

"Nothing is set in stone," Luke said, though it felt more like an attempt to reassure himself. "I don't believe Hayden holds that kind of sway—not yet. If he were already an established General, or someone with an influential background, his recommendation might carry weight. But as things stand…"

"Aye, you're right." Kayson exhaled, rubbing his chin in thought. "If the Hart family hadn't declined to its current state, things might have been different."

Luke didn't respond to that.

"So, what now?" Kayson continued. "Do we return to the Academy at Clayton City?"

Luke nodded. "We'll head back in two days with a small unit carrying a request for supplies and tradespeople to repair the fortress," he said. "A messenger has already been dispatched to deliver news of our victory, so expect a warm reception when we arrive."

Kayson grinned, his features made even more striking by the expression. "Speaking of warm receptions, you should stay at my estate when we return. I'll tell my father all about your exploits."

Hearing this, Luke shook his head vehemently. "Your father hates me. I'd be worried he'd send his men to assault me in my sleep."

But the moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them.

Kayson's grin vanished, his tone turning ice-cold. "You think my father is such a person?" His blue eyes bore into Luke like daggers, sharp and unyielding.

Luke exhaled heavily. "I'm sorry, Kayson. Please forget I said that. I've never met your father, so I shouldn't have spoken such folly," he admitted, his voice laced with remorse. "Though, he has a reason to bear a grudge—I nearly cut off his family's lineage in our duel."

Kayson's expression softened as his anger ebbed away. "My father doesn't hate you, Luke," he said, his voice returning to its usual warmth. "In fact, he admires you for defeating me. He said it was a valuable lesson—one I needed to learn about never letting my guard down. You should've heard the lecture I got when he found out." A smile returned to his face.

"Really?" Luke asked in disbelief. "But the City Lord's troops loathed me—I wasn't imagining that."

Kayson let out a hearty laugh. "Aye, they dote on me more than my own father does."

Hearing this filled Luke with a strange mix of relief and incredulity. For so long, he had lived in Clayton City under the impression that its Lord despised him. The weight of that belief had been a constant strain. But now, it seemed he had been mistaken.

Luke shook his head, letting out another sigh. "It seems I've made an error in judgment, brother. I'll happily visit your estate when we return. But for now, let's get some sleep—my mind and body are both weary."

With that, the two made their way to the barracks, taking up residence in one of the officers' quarters. Sleep came quickly, and soon, the soft sound of Kayson's snores filled the room before Luke finally succumbed to exhaustion.

By the time Luke woke up, it was already midday. His body felt sluggish, his eyes gritty with fatigue. The battle had taken place before midnight, and they had only gone to sleep an hour before dawn.

He pushed himself upright, wincing as his stiff muscles protested. The past two weeks had been grueling on his untrained body—especially all the time he had spent on horseback.

As he stretched, his thoughts drifted to riding, and a small smile tugged at his lips.

'I'll request to take her back to Clayton City with me,' he mused fondly, thinking of his mare.

"Looks like you had a good dream last night, brother," Kayson remarked, flashing him a knowing wink. "Was it about a woman?"

Luke's expression faltered before he answered truthfully. "I was thinking about my horse."

Kayson's face twisted in mock horror. "What? You have those kinds of dreams about your horse?!"

For a brief moment, Luke considered throwing something at him but thought better of it. The last time he did, he'd nearly been decapitated by a flying wooden hairbrush. Instead, he simply got up and ignored the ridiculous remark, slipping on his leather boots.

As he fastened them, a thought suddenly struck him. "Whatever happened to Captain Pierce during the battle?"

"He was killed in the first engagement." Kayson shook his head, looking baffled. "Honestly, I have no idea how he was ever promoted to Captain of the infantry."

Luke blinked. "And here I was worried for nothing…" He shrugged, dismissing it from his mind. Standing, he rolled his shoulders, feeling the stiffness still lingering in his limbs. "I'm feeling sluggish—should we go for a run?"

Kayson grinned. "Sounds good to me."

After spending another day and night in the fortress, Luke, Kayson, Brian, and Arthur finally set out from the south gate at dawn, accompanied by twenty cavalry units. The golden sun had just crested the horizon, casting long shadows across the open plains.

As they rode out, Luke turned to wave at a familiar long-faced figure standing at the gate. Lieutenant Commander Stoddard, as expected, did not wave back, but Luke caught the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips—just enough to acknowledge the gesture.

The man had grown on him over the course of the campaign, and Luke was surprised to realize he would actually miss him. He had even considered recruiting Stoddard as a subordinate, but for some reason, the system hadn't even registered him as a potential ally.

'No matter,' Luke thought, shifting his gaze forward.

Reaching down, he stroked his mare's mane, a content smile forming on his lips. "At least I've got you, girl."

The mare shook her head and stomped the ground in protest, causing Luke to waver slightly in the saddle. Once he steadied himself, he chuckled, amused by her spirited nature.

The journey back to Clayton City would take over two days—assuming they didn't waste time along the way. Luke had no desire to extend the trip any longer than necessary. He spurred his mare forward, leading the pack of soldiers and his companions.

Riding back from war felt infinitely different from marching toward one. The weight of battle no longer loomed over him, and while he knew he would never be the same after the experiences he had endured, the thought of returning to Clayton City filled him with optimism.

It was a shame that Sebastian wouldn't be joining him. The man had been contracted through the Mercenary Guild to remain at Xiu Fortress for at least another month under the City Lord's orders. Luke had sought him out the previous day but had only managed to exchange a few brief words.

Thinking of the almost spousal dynamic between Hilda and Sebastian brought a small smile to his face, even as the wind rushed past him.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the group reached a forest clearing and set up camp. Soon, the rich aroma of simmering soup wafted through the trees, drawing everyone to the fire.

Brian let out a groan, taking a swig from his leather water pouch. "We should have brought some ale." His shoulders sagged as if the thought physically pained him.

"Don't be ridiculous," Arthur scoffed. "If we brought a wagon for supplies, it would add another two days to our trip, you idiot." He exhaled, his gaze distant. "The sooner we get home, the better."

"He's right," Kayson added, cracking his neck dramatically. "I can't think of anything I want more than my own bed. I don't know who made those so-called beds in Xiu Fortress, but they deserve to be punished."

"Aye," Luke quipped, smirking. "I'm sure they built them for an officer, not a soft persimmon like yourself."

Laughter rippled through the group, even some of the soldiers failing to suppress their chuckles.

Kayson stiffened. "You want to see my soft persimmons, brother?" he shot back with mock indignation. "I'll rub them on your face tonight after you fall asleep."

The camp erupted into a chorus of raucous laughter, the tension of the battlefield finally melting away, at least for now. The warmth of the fire, the good-natured banter, and the presence of trusted companions made the night feel lighter.

With their stomachs full and spirits lifted, the group gradually retreated to their tents. The soldiers took turns standing watch, allowing the others to rest.

"If I see your balls anywhere near me, I won't hesitate to cut them off," Luke warned, his voice laced with mock seriousness.

Kayson, however, was already asleep, his soft snores the only response.

Luke sighed and let out a small chuckle. "Just one more day…" he muttered, anticipation building at the thought of returning to Clayton City.

For two weeks, he had been unable to visit the library, leaving his knowledge stagnant. The inability to fully utilize his Scholarly Pursuit ability gnawed at him—it felt like having a sword and never drawing it. He vowed to devour every book he could get his hands on the moment he returned.

With that thought, his eyes grew heavy, and soon, he drifted into a light sleep.

At some point in the night, a cold draft blew through the tent, sending a shiver down Luke's spine. He stirred, cracking open his heavy eyelids, momentarily disoriented. It wasn't until he heard Kayson's steady snores that he remembered where he was.

Suppressing a yawn, he got up slowly and slipped his boots on. Ducking under the tent flap, he stepped out into the crisp night air. The forest was eerily silent, the faint glow of the dying campfire casting flickering shadows.

He made his way to the edge of camp to relieve himself, the quiet hum of nocturnal creatures his only company. As he stood there, he decided to make use of his Eagle Eye skill.

In an instant, his vision soared above the treetops, granting him a bird's-eye view of the camp. He narrowed his gaze, focusing on the surroundings.

Two sentries stood on the western perimeter, another two on the east, gripping their spears as they kept watch. He even spotted himself in the northern part of camp. Everything seemed normal.

But just as he was about to deactivate the skill, movement caught his eye.

In the dense underbrush to the south, shadows shifted. More than one. Moving fast.

His breath hitched. 'An animal?'

Then, his stomach dropped.

Figures—humanoid, armed, and coordinated—darted forward, closing in on the unsuspecting eastern sentries.

Luke's eyes widened in alarm.

"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!" he bellowed, his voice cutting through the stillness of the night like a blade.