The event was over—and with it came the quiet. The camp exhaled in relief.

Laughter, improvised music, and the smell of roasting meat filled the air. People walked around without glancing over their shoulders.

Luke understood why: the end of an event meant a pause in the nightmare. For non-combatants, that was everything.

“Blood Demon! Blood Demon!” the archers chanted, dancing around the bonfire.

At the center, a boar was being carved up in a hurry. Mugs were raised, stories retold—each one more exaggerated than the last.

One of the archers passed by Luke, slapped his shoulder, and kept dancing.

Luke sighed, covered in dried blood and half-soaked. “I deserve this…”

“Please hold still, Mister Luke.”

Thiara appeared behind him—and dumped another bucket of water over his head.

Splash.

Luke stood motionless. “You sure this water’s clean?”

“Absolutely!” she said, beaming. “I awakened a purification skill. I can cleanse any water now. That makes me useful, right?”

In this world, that was worth more than gold. Most water had to be boiled—and even then, it wasn’t always safe.

She dipped her hand into the bucket, a soft glow of mana shimmering across the surface, then dumped more over his head.

“I’m also experimenting,” she added. “Turns out I gain a bit of XP when I purify things. Who knows? Maybe I get XP for bathing people, too. I mean, I already get some when people drink my water.”

Luke blinked as another bucket hit him.

“…So I’m the test subject?”

Thiara nodded, perfectly serious. “It’s more common than you think. Farmers get XP planting, carpenters get XP building. Professions are like support classes. They don’t fight—but they’re crucial.”

Luke looked at her with a little more respect.

“Professions sound kind of awesome.”

“They are,” she said with a smile. “I wanted to be a doctor back on Earth. But my family was poor. The System gave me the Healer class… skipped years of school. Now I can do what no doctor ever could.”

She paused, eyes distant.

“…Then I got pulled into this cursed tutorial.”

Luke thought about his own mother.

He said nothing—just nodded.

“Are there combat-oriented professions?” he asked.

“Not directly. But they help you grow. Bonus XP, utility skills, stat boosts… they make you stronger, no doubt.”

She finished with the last of the buckets. Luke gave her a quiet thank-you, then slipped into the forest to finish cleaning up on his own.

Later, back in the tent, he opened his inventory.

Princess Charlie stood nearby, silent as always.

He pulled out the reward: the Captain’s weapon. He held it for a long second… then offered it to her.

[Orcslayer Blade (Rare)

Description: A crimson blade stained with the blood of a fallen Orc Captain. Deals +25% bonus damage against orcs.

[Sharp Fury (Rare)]: +10% damage when the enemy is below 30% HP.

Requirement: Level 8+ in any Fighter class]

“Looks like you’re the only one getting loot these days,” Luke muttered.

Charlie took the sword, expression unreadable behind the helmet.

He sighed, then smiled.

“Not that I mind. I’m not giving up my kukris anyway.”

That’s when footsteps echoed through the camp—stumbling, lightly dragging.

“Look who it is! Our glorious forest psycho—the Blood Demon himself!”

Angelica appeared, visibly drunk, laughing and swaying with a mug of something half-fermented in hand. She handed it to Luke.

“Best we could brew. You’ve earned it. Now come join the party!”

Luke scratched the back of his neck.

“I was just changing…”

Then her eyes landed on Charlie.

“Oh… the knight who saved some of ours. Thanks. Are you still a newbie in the tutorial?”

Luke and Charlie exchanged a look.

She gave a small nod.

Angelica smiled and extended a hand.

“Welcome to the Haven. What’s your name?”

Charlie looked at the hand…

Then at Luke.

Before the silence grew awkward—

Luke stepped in:

“She’s a bit shy,” Luke said, clearing his throat. “Met Charlie out in the Wild Zone. She’s… still trying to process all this crap we call a tutorial. Everyone handles it in their own way, right?”

Angelica nodded, either understanding or just drunk enough not to question it further.

“Yeah. Seen plenty like that around here,” she said, her voice slurring slightly. “They show up thinking they’ll be out in a few weeks. Then reality hits like a warhammer to the face.”

She offered a crooked smile to Charlie and added, “Don’t worry, make yourself at home. Want us to set up a tent for you? I heard you earned it.”

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

Charlie shook her head.

“She’s got a hideout in the Safe Zone,” Luke added quickly. “But she still came to help.”

“Well, if you need anything, you come find me,” Angelica replied, nearly spilling her mug as she wandered off, muttering something about orcs and bad drinks.

Luke considered storing Charlie back in his soul inventory…

But before he could, Angelica had looped an arm through his, dragging him toward the campfire to talk about meat, survival, and whatever else popped into her ale-soaked mind.

***

Charlie was standing behind Luke. That was part of the strategy: act like she was just another quiet survivor.

“Hey,” said a familiar voice. Jonathan stepped up, curious as ever. “So? What did you get?”

Luke opened his system menu, pulled up the sword from Charlie’s inventory, and handed it over.

Jonathan’s eyes lit up. “Any time a Captain dies, the Safe Zone turns into a hive of insane theories the next day. I bet this’ll be all people talk about tomorrow.” He passed the sword back with a low whistle. Even Cecilia wandered over, curiosity visible on her face.

“Are these kinds of attacks normal?” Luke asked, glancing at the archers still dancing around the fire.

“It depends,” said Anna, arms crossed, gaze thoughtful. “The invasions come in waves. Some weak, others brutal. But a Captain? That’s rare.”

“Holy hell!” someone shouted.

Johnny.

His voice rang out over the firelight, full of excitement. “What a tall woman!”

Charlie slowly turned to face him.

“You know, milady… I saw your feats in battle and, honestly? I think I’m in love.” Johnny slicked back his hair with one hand and offered the other with an overly dramatic bow. “Would you honor me with a dance?”

Charlie raised her hand slowly — and pointed at the ring on her finger.

Johnny froze mid-step. “…Oh. Taken. My apologies.”

He withdrew with all the grace of a man shot through the heart.

Princess Charlie is pretty smart; she came up with a great excuse.

***

The celebration burned on.

Campfires crackled high. The scent of roasted meat mingled with improvised songs and the clink of wooden mugs. Survivors celebrated another day of staying alive.

Allison was nowhere to be seen, but Luke knew where she was — out meditating in the forest. She’d burned through too much mana fighting the bear. Her Race Skill let her recover faster while in deep meditation. Luke envied it — he couldn’t wait to unlock something similar.

He grabbed a skewer, took a bite of meat, chewed thoughtfully — then pulled open Charlie’s system interface.

The first thing that appeared:

[Princess Charlie has unlocked a new Race Skill]

Five choices appeared.

Two of them he recognized:

[Skeletal Leap] and [Bone Fist] — decent, but nothing thrilling right now.

But the other three…

One stood out:

[Bone Autonomy (Uncommon)]: You may detach parts of your body and control them independently for a short time. Useful for surprise attacks, improvised defense, or strategic repositioning without moving your full body.

Luke scratched his chin.

Interesting. Strategic. But… kind of niche.

Great for ambushes or unexpected turns—but hard to pull off in the chaos of real combat.

[Bone Endurance (Rare)]: Your skeletal structure becomes significantly denser and harder to fracture. Impacts that would normally shatter a standard skeleton result only in minor cracks or superficial damage.

Luke read the description twice. Just to be sure.

Then he turned, glancing over his shoulder.

Charlie stood where she always did — still, silent, armored like a statue of war. But no matter how much metal she wore… at the end of the day, she was bones beneath it.

Armor wasn’t enough. A strike strong enough would pierce through it all.

But now? Not anymore.

He didn’t hesitate.

[Princess Charlie has acquired the Race Skill: Bone Endurance]

Her status screen unfolded before him.

Luke’s eyes widened.

Five unspent stat points? When did I let that pile up?

He exhaled and started allocating:

+3 to Vitality

+1 to Agility

+1 to Perception

Name: Princess Charlie

Level: 5

Rank: F

Class: [Death Knight (Lvl 9)]

Race: Skeleton

Title: [Servant of the Dark Lord]

Health Points (HP): 290/290 -> 320/320

Mana Points (MP): 130/130

Stamina: 249/250

Stats:

Strength: 34

Agility: 21 -> 22

Endurance: 25

Vitality: 29 -> 32

Perception: 14 -> 15

Intelligence: 13

Free Points: 5 -> 0

Charlie now looked… complete.

Tougher.

Faster.

Sharper.

Exactly how a Death Knight was meant to be.

Luke placed a hand over his own abdomen. The wounds had healed when he leveled—but the phantom pain remained. The ghost of Orbald’s axe, a memory that had nearly split him in half.

“I need armor,” he muttered.

He opened his own status screen.

Name: Luke

Level: 7

Rank: F

Class: [Demonic Assassin – lvl 13]

Race: Half-Demon

Profession: —

Title: [Dark Lord]

Bloodline: [Bloodline of the Dark Demon]

Health Points (HP): 610/610

Mana Points (MP): 420/420

Stamina: 260/260

Soul Fragments: 28/1000

Stats:

Strength: 56

Agility: 64

Endurance: 26 -> 28

Vitality: 61 -> 63

Perception: 59

Intelligence: 42

Free Points: 4 -> 0

Endurance didn’t just boost stamina — it improved raw defense. And right now? That mattered more than ever. One clean hit without armor and… he was done.

Luke stretched his arms and closed the interface. For now, the numbers could wait. He walked slowly between tents and campfires. People laughed. Ate. Talked. Not warriors. Just people trying to live. Trying to stay sane. Trying to hold on.

He said nothing. Just sat on a log a little ways from the others. Charlie stood beside him like a loyal shadow, saying nothing — and saying everything.

“Excuse me… Mr. Blood Demon?”

A soft voice pulled him from his thoughts. Luke glanced to the side. A young girl stood there, her expression timid.

Internally, he groaned. I hate that nickname.

“I… uh, I’m terrible with names. I think I forgot yours,” he said, trying to sound polite.

Truth was — he had no idea who she was.

The girl bit her lip, clearly awkward. “I-I help with the cooking sometimes… and laundry.”

Okay? Did I do something wrong?

She met his eyes. “I was just wondering if… you could walk me to my tent? I kind of forgot where it is.”

Seriously?

Luke frowned. She knows I’m new here, right? I barely know how anything works.

“I’m just a little jumpy after the orc attack,” she added quickly. “Your company would make me feel safer.” She forced a smile.

“Ah. Right. Sure, I’ll walk you,” Luke said, almost out of reflex.

But then — a strong hand grabbed his shoulder and shoved him back onto the log.

“Ow!”

He spun around — Princess Charlie.

“What the hell was that?!” he asked, baffled.

She pointed to the ring on her finger — then pointed at him.

The ring? What does that have to do with anything…?

The girl looked. Then looked again. Her eyes widened.

“I-I’m so sorry for the trouble, Mr. Blood Demon!”

She turned and practically ran off into the night.

Luke just sat there, stunned. “…Yeah. I’m going to bed.”

Even if the System kept his body refreshed after leveling, his mind felt like it had been dragged through a meat grinder. He turned toward the tents — and found Allison waiting for him.

“There you are,” she said, looking refreshed. “Just wanted to say… Charlie was a big help. She really held her own against that bear.”

They walked together through the camp, calm after the storm.

“What level was that thing?” Luke asked.

“Eighteen,” Allison replied, motioning to her pants. “I got these off him. New armor.”

Luke glanced at his own clothes — still wearing the standard adventurer’s starter set: cheap, unenchanted cloth.

“So between the three of us, I’m the one with the least protection,” he muttered.

Allison chuckled softly. “You’re an assassin. You’re not supposed to be on the front lines. You’ll live.”

Then her tone shifted. “But… I need to tell you something.”

Luke stopped mid-path and turned to face her.

“When I killed the black bear, the System said he was a commander under the Beast Lord.”

Luke nodded.

“And that orc… he spoke.”

It wasn’t something many people knew. They said few orcs ever spoke, and even then, there was never time to ask questions because all they wanted was to kill. But that one had spoken clearly. With purpose.

“It’s obvious now,” Luke said. “These Lords and their armies… it’s not random.”

“They’re structured,” Allison agreed. “Organized. Smart.”

“And worse… they’re aware of the System. And the Tutorial.”

That line kept echoing in Luke’s mind: ‘You have your mission. We have ours.’

Mission…

Humans are fighting to escape. But the monsters…?

They were fighting to stop them.

But why? Who wrote those rules?

And that “King” the orc mentioned… Was it the Midnight King? Or something even higher?

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep