Chapter 11 - 10

Chapter 11: Chapter 10 They hid the iron collar on Fred’s neck beneath a scarf. Lumberling wasn’t sure it was enough, but it was better than nothing. For the next few days, Lumberling and Uncle Drake laid low. After killing a Sengolio hunting squad, neither of them expected the enemy to send three Knight Pages to investigate so quickly. Thankfully, Fred acted as their insider, allowing them to avoid encounters. Fred was just a common soldier with limited access to classified areas, but even so, he provided valuable intel. Through him, they learned the makeup of hunting squads, their numbers, strengths, and usual patrol paths. With that knowledge, they stayed one step ahead. "Ugh, I miss fried chicken delivery... I want Coke. Spaghetti... shit." Lumberling muttered to himself while training his spearmanship. He often reminisced about Earth, where he could eat anything at any time. For the past two months, they barely ate. Hunting was dangerous. Yet in the meantime, Lumberling honed his spearmanship, sprint, and concealment. He sparred regularly with Uncle Drake to track his progress and spent at least an hour a day studying the Sengolio language. They needed fluency to infiltrate the enemy camp. The front remained quiet. It felt like both sides were amassing strength for an all-out assault. Fred continued supplying them with updates. Eventually, Lumberling opened his status window. Name: Lumberling Race: Human Age: 18 Level: 3 Essence Points: 860/1040 Power: 480 Knight Stage: Unranked Active Skill: Beginner Sprint Lv0 (708/1000) (Grants a burst of lightning-fast speed. Consumes a large amount of stamina.) Passive Skills: Essence Devour – (Automatically devours the essence of those you kill. Absorbs a portion of their special experiences and memories.) Beginner Spearmanship Lv1 (873/1000) Beginner Swordsmanship Lv1 (724/1000) Beginner Bowmanship Lv0 (99/1000) Beginner Shieldmanship Lv0 (9/1000) Beginner Concealment Lv0 (400/1000) "Looking good. I’m nowhere near where I want to be, but a far cry from where I started." Over the next four months, Lumberling and Uncle Drake endured the wilderness. Lumberling’s training never ceased. His will to survive, to grow stronger, drove him relentlessly. One morning, he went to meet Fred for the weekly report. "Master, most of the reinforcements have already arrived," Fred said. "Our captain says the last group is arriving soon. I think the leaders will strike any time now." "Are you sure?" Lumberling asked, pulse quickening. "Yes. Our company commander ordered everyone to prepare weapons and armor. Even recalled all hunting squads." Lumberling’s thoughts swirled—this was the moment he had waited for. A few days later, it was time for Fred’s next report. Lumberling and Uncle Drake headed to their usual meeting spot. They saw Fred standing alone by a tree. "Hey Fred, how’s the camp? Any news?" Lumberling asked. "Ye-yeah, Master. Our last reinforcements are arriving today." "Do you know which route they’re taking?" "From the southeast, near the mountains... I think," Fred said, fidgeting. Lumberling narrowed his eyes. Fred seemed unusually nervous. "What’s wrong, Fred?" "Ah, nothing, Master. Just feeling a bit sick." Too late. A sharp pain pierced Lumberling’s shoulder. "Ambush! Take cover!" he roared. He and Uncle Drake dove behind trees as arrows rained down. Fred wasn’t fast enough—arrows struck him, and his fate was uncertain. "What the hell?! Fred betrayed us?" Uncle Drake shouted. "Seems like it." "Impossible. Slaves can’t betray their masters!" "Let’s argue later. Focus on the enemies now." Lumberling yanked the arrow from his shoulder, gritting his teeth through the pain. "One, two, three... seven enemies. And a Knight Page. We can take them," he said. At the count of three, they burst from cover, shields raised. Arrows bounced off as they charged. The enemy Knight Page ordered his soldiers to engage Lumberling while he went for Uncle Drake. Lumberling activated Sprint. "Boom!" His shield slammed into soldiers, sending them flying. His spear danced in the air, reaping lives. (You have devoured the Infantry Soldier’s essence...) (You have devoured the Infantry Soldier’s essence...) In moments, only the Knight Page remained—locked in combat with Uncle Drake. He glanced at Lumberling and froze. "Another knight? What the hell..." Panicked, he fled. Lumberling sprinted after him. He and Uncle Drake cornered and cut him down together. (You have devoured the Knight Page’s essence. 55 essence absorbed. Absorbing a portion of the Knight Page’s memories and experiences.) Lumberling exhaled hard and checked his wound. Still open but manageable. He dressed it with herbs and bandages. "You’ve gotten stronger, kid," Uncle Drake said, patting his back. They buried the bodies and approached Fred’s corpse. The collar still clung to his cold neck. "So... he did betray us?" Lumberling asked. "I don’t get it," Drake muttered. "The collar makes betrayal impossible." "No. It only inflicts pain to force compliance," Lumberling said, remembering his earlier experiments. "If someone can endure that pain, they can still disobey. That’s the loophole." "Damn... we got careless." "We did. Let’s just hope no one else knows Fred turned." "What about the plan?" Lumberling considered the risks. "Yes. We go ahead. The war’s about to begin. Time to slip inside." "Alright, I trust you." Two disguised hunters—really Lumberling and Uncle Drake—carried a deer and rabbits. On a mountain path, a Sengolio scout drew his bow on them. "Halt! Identify yourselves." "I wouldn’t point that bow if I were you," Uncle Drake said coolly. "Wanna try me?" "Easy," Drake said, tapping the deer. "Name’s George. He’s Frank. We’re with the hunting squad." "And you?" Drake asked the scout. "Waren. I’m a scout. Part of the reinforcements sent to besiege the fortress." "Good. Our leaders were expecting you," Drake replied. The tension melted. They exchanged pleasantries and stories, walking together back to camp. "Damn," Lumberling thought, "Uncle Drake’s a natural actor." They had dyed their hair with plant sap to mask their Pentaline features. It worked—Waren suspected nothing. Inside the Sengolio camp, Lumberling and Drake blended in. Lumberling avoided using skills for two weeks to keep a low profile. Then came the call to arms. 42,000 Sengolio troops: infantry, cavalry, archers, siege weapons, knights. "Honnnngg!" The war horns blew. Drums roared. Four massive catapults and a battering ram crept toward the fortress. Lumberling, posing as a hunter, was placed with the archers. The army advanced: 1 km... 800 m... 600... 400... 300. Arrows from the fortress rained down. Sengolio infantry pushed forward. At 300 meters, catapults opened fire. At 200, the archers loosed their volleys. Lumberling stayed in the rear, shielded by fellow soldiers. Even a stray arrow could kill. He waited until close range to fire back. (You have devoured the Infantry Soldier’s essence...) "Dangerous... but I’m growing stronger. My time to shine." He danced through the chaos, ducking and firing. Every kill added to his strength. On the walls, Pentaline defenders poured boiling oil and crushed invaders. The fortress held strong. Then— "BOOM!" A car-sized boulder flew from the fortress—catapult fire. Lumberling narrowly escaped with Sprint. Dozens of soldiers were obliterated. "Shit! They have catapults too?" He grabbed a shield from a corpse and pressed close to the wall. He resumed his hunt. (You have devoured the Infantry Soldier’s essence...) (Beginner Spearmanship has reached Level 2. Power +120.) His passive Concealment skill helped him avoid attention. He stayed low, shooting without drawing notice. He had no intention of climbing the wall. If he revealed himself, no Pentaline soldier would believe he was one of them. They’d kill him on the spot. Name: Lumberling Race: Human Age: 18 Level: 4 Essence Points: (140/3500) Power: 620 Knight Stage: Unranked Active Skills: Beginner Sprint Lv0 (828/1000) (Grants a burst of lightning-fast speed. Consumes a large amount of stamina.) Passive Skills: Essence Devour (Automatically devours the essence of those you kill. Absorbs a portion of their special experiences and memories.) Beginner Spearmanship Lv2 (73/1000) Beginner Swordsmanship Lv1 (891/1000) Beginner Bowmanship Lv0 (131/1000) Beginner Shieldmanship Lv0 (9/1000) Beginner Concealment Lv0 (530/1000) Lumberling opened his status window and smiled at the progress. His Spearmanship skill was nearly on par with a Knight Page’s, and by raw strength alone, he was likely already stronger than the average one. Only the peak-tier Knight Pages might give him trouble. "All according to keikaku. Kekekeke..." Slipping away from the hidden corpses, he drew his bow and began firing at the fortress. But the frustration set in quickly—his shots were inaccurate, far below the level of even a standard archer. ’Should’ve trained bowmanship earlier...’ but regrets were useless now. He continued anyway, drawing on the memories and techniques he’d absorbed from the fallen. Every arrow, even a missed one, was training. The siege dragged on for half a day. Thousands of soldiers died, but the fortress remained unbroken. Then came the horn—retreat. Confused but compliant, Lumberling fell back with the Sengolio forces. No Knight 1s had appeared during the battle, which struck him as odd. He voiced this to Uncle Drake at the camp. "I took a hit to the leg," Drake said, gesturing to his bandage. "Arrow. Don’t worry I’ll live." "And the Knights?" Drake grunted. "It’s standard. Both empires start with regulars and Knight Pages. Only after the initial bloodbath do the true Knights step in." Lumberling didn’t fully understand the logic, but he was relieved. No Knights meant better odds of survival. The catapults, though... he still needed to watch out for those.