The group was gathered beneath the night sky, surrounded by the dark forest. Three days had passed since the ant attack. Marshall was dead. The surviving Renegades had scattered like rats, fleeing the Safe Zone the moment Bartholomew claimed victory. They vanished into the Wild Zone — directionless, leaderless, hopeless. But the worst came after. Every hideout they knew had been compromised. Each safe place… had become a grave.

“Someone betrayed us,” one of them said, breaking the silence. “All our main hideouts were hit.”

“And now you want to play the blame game?” another snapped. “It was probably one of the ones who got caught after infiltrating Bartholomew’s fortress. Marshall’s gone. We lost. There’s no place left.”

Silence fell again, thick as fog.

“We were close to the original Renegades — the founders. We can still regroup. Build a new strategy, launch another assault. We can keep slowing the Safe Zone down. We can’t let Bartholomew win.”

But then… a voice came from the darkness.

“It’s not Bartholomew who’s hunting you. It’s me.”

Weapons were drawn instantly. Bows raised. Wands lit with mana.

“Light!” one of the mages shouted.

Floating orbs of light burst into the branches above. Spells of night vision flared. Their eyes gleamed with magical reflection. Footsteps echoed among the trees as a figure emerged from the shadows.

“If I want to complete the tutorial… I can’t let any of you live.”

It was a young man. Alone.

“If any of you had truly repented, I might’ve let it go.”

“He’s one of Bartholomew’s soldiers!” one of them growled.

They scanned the woods for signs of an ambush. But no one else was there.

“Capture him. We need to know how he found this place.”

“I followed you before,” he said coldly. “Mapped every hideout, every trail. Every meeting point.”

A mage raised a hand. A fireball formed, glowing with vibrant, bluish flame.

“Kill this bastard. He’s gotta be a scout for Bartholomew!”

The fireball launched.

Then exploded—

But not on Luke.

A figure appeared in front of him, intercepting the spell. Heavy footsteps hit the wet earth. From the dust of the blast, a silhouette emerged through the smoke.

Several of them took a step back when they saw the armor she wore — dark, shining steel.

“That’s a Midnight Warden’s chestplate! What the hell?!”

It was Princess Charlie, wearing the jet-black chestplate of a Midnight Warden.

“How did this woman get her hands on that cursed armor?”

The tension snapped like a brittle twig. The Renegades scattered around her, trying to form a perimeter. Some hesitated — while Charlie stood her ground, staring them down. Then she raised her sword and pointed it forward. Charlie activated her pugilist skill: Battle Roar.

The sound of her roar echoed through the forest — and for a moment, they all recoiled in fear.

“Advance!” one of them shouted.

Spells and arrows flew, explosions crashing against the chestplate — but Charlie didn’t stop. She walked through it all, slow and unrelenting, a force of nature clad in black steel.

She turned toward the mage who had cast the first fireball — and even without eyes, it felt like she was staring straight at him.

He turned to run.

Charlie raised her hand.

Spectral chains burst from the air around him, coiling and yanking him back like a puppet caught in a trap. Before he could scream, before he could even beg, she had already closed the distance.

Without hesitation, she drove her sword straight through him.

[Princess Charlie has slain a Human – Lvl 17 (Mage – Lvl 22)]

The chaos began with a thunderous roar. Magic exploded across the sky. Knights charged with war cries, steel clashing against steel.

In the middle of it all, Charlie was a storm.

She activated her charge and delivered a brutal kick that sent an enemy flying into a tree. A Renegade with a battleaxe leapt through the air, screaming. Charlie raised her hand.

[Spectral Barrier].

The axe strike ricocheted off the shield. She responded with a punch powered by Steel Fist, slamming her opponent in the gut and launching him like a bullet. Three mages surrounded her — wands raised, fire surging around her. A bolt of lightning struck; she dropped to one knee.

The same warrior came charging back in, axe lifted high. Charlie grabbed him by both arms, spun him in the air with raw strength, and crushed his skull with a downward punch.

[Princess Charlie has slain a Human – Lvl 16 (Warrior – Lvl 24)]

The mages shouted, increasing their firepower. Charlie spun in a full circle, activating Whirlwind Strike, tossing all three away like rag dolls. Arrows exploded around her, but she never stopped.

She charged forward, unstoppable.

In the shadows… Luke watched. Silent. Dangerous.

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But then—movement behind him.

An arrow zipped past. He turned by reflex, dodging at the last second. Three archers. Two melee fighters. Closing in.

“You’re gonna regret coming here,” one of them growled, firing.

Luke moved like a blur as the two fighters lunged from the shadows. The archers split apart through the trees, firing in sync, while one came at him unarmed—fists glowing with electricity. A pugilist. He charged forward in a sudden burst, and Luke went to kick—but the Renegade’s punch connected first, shattering a tree trunk and sending splinters flying.

Before Luke could recover, the second fighter arrived. He moved with sharp, calculated speed, twin daggers flashing in his hands—fast, precise, deadly.

A kick flew. Luke blocked it. The Renegade rolled across the ground and slashed in a rising arc, blades like fangs of a snake. Luke deflected with his arms — but without his kukris, he was at a disadvantage. He was deliberately holding back from using them.

Another arrow detonated in a flash of light. The brightness blinded him.

And then—silence.

The assassin had vanished.

Luke moved, Refined Perception active, tracking every shift in the air. Something descended from above — a shadow dropped from a branch overhead. The Renegade emerged from darkness, striking with vicious speed.

He was a Shadow Assassin.

Luke met him head-on. A punch to the arm. One to the ribs. The assassin retreated, slipping back into the shadows.

“AAARRGH!” the pugilist roared, likely boosting his power with a Battle Roar like Charlie’s.

At the same time, a rain of arrows came at him. Luke darted between them.

Suddenly, the assassin dropped again. Luke grabbed his arm, and they rolled across the ground. The assassin vanished into the earth and reappeared behind him.

But Luke felt it.

He ducked low, then focused stamina into his fist— A clean uppercut caught the assassin square in the jaw. The assassin flew backward but landed on his feet, rebalanced. He charged again, slicing the air with his daggers, aiming for Luke’s throat with every step.

But Luke had seen it before. He caught the enemy’s wrist at the last second. A sharp crack echoed through the forest as the bone broke.

“AAAH!” the assassin screamed.

The shadows started to swallow him whole, trying to pull him back in.

But Luke didn’t hesitate.

A precise kick smashed into the Renegade’s face, yanking him halfway out of the shadows, and then the ground trembled.

“Aaaargh!”

The electric pugilist charged in a straight line, thunder incarnate—pure rage and lightning. The punches rained down on Luke. He blocked as best he could, but the current tore through his muscles from the inside out. The pugilist’s fist began to glow; it was the Iron Fist.

The strike came—Luke dodged by inches and slammed an elbow into the enemy’s jaw.

The pugilist stumbled, and Luke spun in the same motion, his other fist reinforced with stamina, crashing into the man’s nose. Blood sprayed. Then came the unleashing: a punch to the gut, another to the ribs, one to the temple. The final blow was focused, enhanced with stamina, and utterly brutal.

[You have slain a Human – Lvl 19 (Pugilist – Lvl 28)]

[+1 Soul Fragment acquired]

There was no time to breathe. Arrows rained from above, exploding and ripping through trees, hurling splinters in every direction. Luke launched himself through the branches, leaping from tree to tree.

“Where the hell is he?!” one of the archers shouted.

Dropping like a blade between them, Luke slammed a brutal punch into one of their chests, then dissolved into mist. Darkness blanketed the field. The archers were trapped.

“We have to get out of here!” one of them yelled, sprinting blindly.

Luke reappeared between the remaining two, grabbing one from behind. An arrow flew—he twisted his body, using the archer as a shield.

“AAAAARGH!”

The arrow pierced the man’s chest. Luke snapped his neck in one clean motion and vanished back into the fog.

[You have slain a Human – Lvl 22 (Archer – Lvl 33)]

[+1 Soul Fragment acquired]

The last two archers turned and ran, but as they burst from the fog, Luke dropped down between them. One tried to draw a dagger; the other rolled and fired an arrow straight at his face. Luke caught it barehanded—but it exploded in a flash of light, blinding him. A trap.

From the shadows behind, the assassin emerged, exploiting the opening. But Luke felt it. With Refined Perception active, he spun and dodged just in time. The assassin faded into the shadows. Arrows kept flying. Then the assassin reappeared, hurling a volley of knives. Mid-flight, the blades duplicated.

Recognizing the skill, Luke ducked into the trees, dodging the barrage and taking cover.

“You can’t hide forever…” the assassin called.

Luke scanned every direction. The voice came from everywhere. He watched the shadows shift—trees, branches, falling leaves.

“The shadows are my allies…” the assassin whispered, emerging from the ground and slashing.

Luke caught the blade with his bare hand. “And the darkness is mine,” he murmured.

He activated his skill and vanished—transformed into a vast cloud of fog. The assassin stayed sharp, eyes darting.

Then he saw Luke’s silhouette sprinting through the mist. He threw a dagger—but it passed through. Only a decoy. Just vapor.

And it vanished.

Another silhouette ran behind him. Then another. And another. They dashed and disappeared into the black mist, disorienting him. The shadow assassin heard laughter echo through the fog.

A throwing knife sliced the air. He dodged and sprinted, desperate to escape the suffocating haze—only to slam straight into a tree. He cursed inwardly, eyes scanning the darkness that swallowed everything around him.

And then—he was grabbed from behind. A chokehold locked around his neck. Cold steel slid across his throat. He tried to scream, a reflex of panic, but no sound came. Blood filled his throat, gurgling. He stumbled forward, clutching at the air, knees buckling beneath him. When he looked back, he saw Luke. Standing still. Watching.

Then Luke vanished—melted back into the mist.

Blood gushed in waves, and the shadow assassin collapsed, vision dimming until only darkness remained.

[You have slain a Human – Lvl 24 (Shadow Assassin – Lvl 32)]

[+1 Soul Fragment acquired]

The remaining archers were panicking. The fog had consumed everything.

“Shit… we can’t see a thing. Let’s fall back and regroup. We’ll kill that bastard together.”

But when one of them turned to his partner—he was already on his knees, blood pouring in sheets from the gaping wound in his neck.

“W-what…?”

“Good plan,” said a voice behind him.

And then he was grabbed. He tried to scream, but all he felt was the sharp snap of bone. Luke had broken his neck with his bare hands.

[You have slain a Human – Lvl 19 (Archer – Lvl 31)]

[+1 Soul Fragment acquired]

Luke stepped out of the mist, which began to condense and draw itself back into him. His eyes scanned the battlefield. Charlie was already done.

Amid the bodies, the dust, and the magic still lingering in the air, Luke saw a cascade of kill notifications from her rampage—but one stood out:

*The [Death Knight] class of Princess Charlie has reached Level 24! (Class Bonus Points Acquired)*

Over the past few days, they’d focused on only one thing: hunting down the last of the Renegades.

Charlie stepped up beside him. The black steel breastplate from a Midnight Warden clung to her like it had been forged for her alone. Luke had read the item description—now he understood.

That armor explained why the Wardens were so damn hard to kill. Why they felt like walking fortresses. Not only was it ultra-rare, but the enchantment—Mana Repair—made it nearly indestructible. As long as the wearer had mana, they could repair the armor, without even removing it. Every scratch, every dent — vanished as it was being repaired.

That was why the Wardens could stand against full mage squads. Their armor never stayed damaged for long.

And now, that power belonged to Charlie.

“Now there’s only one thing left to do,” Luke said.

Just one more task—and then he’d face the unknown. The castle loomed on the horizon. That impossible place hidden beyond the Wild Zone. The final threshold of the tutorial.

And Luke was getting ready to cross it.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep