Chapter 9 - 8

Chapter 9: Chapter 8 They regrouped near a river, patched up, and rested. Some caught fish. They ate, rested, and let their guard down—briefly. Then the scout returned. The Centurion was still alive—and on the run, being chased by a force of over 500 Sengolio soldiers. The air turned cold. "Are we fighting again?" someone whispered. "This is it... this is really our graveyard." "Can’t we just hide and wait for reinforcements?" "Idiot, no one’s coming. And even if we hide, they’ll sniff us out—just like they did back at camp." "Shut it, kids," an older soldier snapped. "Be grateful we’ve lasted this long. Thank the Decurions we’re still breathing." "You’re right," someone murmured. "Before I die, I’ll take more of them with me." Decurion Lance, silent until now, rose. "You’ve all given so much. But our fight isn’t over. I won’t force anyone, but I ask you—join me. One last stand. For our Centurion. For the Empire." Lumberling barely listened. He was thinking only of how to convince Uncle Drake to escape with him. To his surprise, Uncle Drake stayed where he was. So did Rex. Only 12 followed Lance. ’So they’re not all madmen,’ Lumberling thought. ’Guess I was wrong.’ Decurion Lance gave them a long, bitter look, then turned to Lumberling. "I’m sorry, Decurion Lance," Lumberling said. "Even if I came with you, I wouldn’t be much help." ’Besides, what’s the point of dying here?’ he thought. ’Is that what faith means to them—dying blindly for the Empire?’ Drake tried to reason with Lance. "Let’s hide, regroup—" "They’ll find us eventually," Lance cut in. "I’ve made my decision." "So be it," Drake sighed. "We’ll go our separate ways." "Those who will follow—let’s fight for our Centurion! For the Empire!" And with that, Decurion Lance and his group marched off. He watched them go. Brave? Or fools? Maybe both. Either way, they were still walking toward something. That was more than most could say. The rest slowly began breaking apart—small groups heading in different directions. Lumberling turned to Drake. "Uncle Drake, let’s travel together." "Of course. I planned to ask you the same." "Got any plans?" "Not yet. Haven’t had time to think. Just been running and fighting." "I have an idea," Lumberling said. "Let’s head for Ryazan Fortress." Drake raised an eyebrow. "You sure? That’s riskier. You remember why we avoided it." "I haven’t forgotten. But hiding out is just delaying the inevitable. It’s risky, yes—but it’s our only real option." "And how do you plan to slip past thirty thousand Sengolio soldiers?" "We’ll infiltrate their camp. Pretend to be one of them. Once they besiege Ryazan, we slip inside during the chaos. I need your help though—I don’t know much about Sengolio uniforms or commands." Drake nodded slowly. "It’s crazy... but better than waiting to die. Let’s do it." "Thanks. I’ll rely on you." Just then, a voice spoke behind them. "Mind if I join your plan?" They turned. "Decurion Rex?" Lumberling blinked. "I thought you left." "I was going to. But I remembered—I’ve got strong allies I can rely on." ’Yeah, right,’ Lumberling thought. ’You left. Changed your mind, huh?’ "Of course!" Drake said. "We’ll be stronger with you." Lumberling bit back his protest. ’Fine. If he tries anything, I can take him.’ The three decided not to invite anyone else—more people meant more risk of being discovered. "Before we go," Lumberling said, "I need to grab something. I buried some bronze coins in the hills." "Bronze coins?" Rex snorted. "You want to dig up trash now?" "They matter to me," Lumberling said with a sheepish smile. "I was poor before the army. Every coin counts." "Let the kid go, Rex," Drake said. "Won’t hurt. Want us to come with?" "No need. I’ll be quick. Let’s meet at the hidden cave before nightfall." "Alright. I’ll have dinner ready," said Drake. "Thanks. I’ll be looking forward to it." The group had split up for now. Uncle Drake and Decurion Rex had gone to hunt game, while Lumberling tailed Decurion Lance from a distance. He couldn’t understand their logic. Why fight a battle with certain death? Loyalty to the empire was admirable, but wasn’t it meaningless if they died pointlessly? He didn’t believe they were throwing their lives away. Decurion Lance wasn’t a fool—he’d been the mastermind behind their survival so far. Lumberling’s instincts told him this wasn’t just blind loyalty. He silently tracked them, training his Concealment skill as he moved, keeping far enough away to retreat if needed. After some time, the group he was following spotted something. "I see our Centurion!" "He’s still fighting." "Damn it, he’s the only one who survived." "We must help him!" Decurion Lance raised his voice. "Soldiers, prepare yourselves! Once we reach him, defend the Centurion with your lives. Let him do the killing. That’s how we maximize our impact." "Understood, Decurion Lance!" "For the Empire!" he shouted, unsheathing his sword. "For the Empire!" the soldiers echoed, blades drawn as they charged. Lumberling watched in silence. In another world, these men would be called heroes—rushing into battle even when the odds were stacked against them. They crashed into the enemy line, shielding their Centurion with their own bodies. "AHHHH! For the Empire!" "Kill all Sengolio dogs!" The chaos of battle unfolded. But then something strange happened. The voices of command ceased. One soldier looked back—and froze. His eyes widened. Their Decurion and Centurion were... running away. Betrayal. He opened his mouth to warn the others—but a sword stabbed through his back. No words came. Just silence. Death. Lumberling’s heart pounded. Even he hadn’t expected this. He’d believed in the Centurion’s pride. He’d volunteered to act as bait—how could he flee now? But then again, even knights were human. Fear of death changed everything. ’Tch. Decurion Lance... you’re a real schemer. I almost believed in your knightly honor,’ Lumberling thought. The Pentaline soldiers were slaughtered, barely slowing the enemy advance. But the ruse worked. Decurion Lance and the Centurion gained distance. A Centurion’s head was a prized reward—worth gold and promotion. The Sengolio troops pursued, hungry for glory. "We’re almost to the forest," Lance said. "Once we’re in, they’ll have trouble tracking us." But someone blocked their path. A tall, armored figure stood in their way. Full black armor. Sword in hand. Still and silent. Decurion Lance and the Centurion attacked together, slashing at the knight— —but froze mid-strike. Their heads dropped to the ground. Lumberling didn’t even see what happened. The knight hadn’t moved. Or had he? Was he just that fast? "A real Knight One? No... maybe a Quasi-Knight?" he wondered. Then the knight turned his head—straight toward Lumberling. His heart nearly leapt out of his chest. ’Did he see me? I’m camouflaged... hidden in thick leaves... there’s no way.’ The knight stared for a moment longer, then turned away and picked up the severed heads. Lumberling exhaled slowly. "Was that intuition...? Is this the level of a Quasi-Knight?" He slipped away, quiet as shadow. Both Lance and the Centurion were dead. That Chapter was over. Later, Lumberling reunited with Uncle Drake. "Your cooking’s amazing, Uncle Drake. Where’d you learn this?" Drake grinned while grilling venison. "A hobby. Learned while traveling. For soldiers like us, good food’s one of the few joys we’ve got." "Teach me. I want to enjoy food anywhere." "Hah, sure." They ate, slept, and rotated night watch. A week passed. They hunted game and avoided Sengolio patrols. Lumberling couldn’t afford to draw attention, so he hadn’t absorbed essence from any soldiers. Instead, he trained—acting as scout, sharpening his Sprint and Concealment. At night, he practiced spearmanship. Spear felt right in his hands. Drake hunted. Rex grew irritable. "I’m starving. Got anything, Drake?" Rex groaned. "You had the biggest chunk this morning. Stop whining," Drake replied. "How’re you still moving, kid?" Rex asked, watching Lumberling do push-ups. "Just warming up. It’s cold." "Don’t overdo it. We’ve still got a long walk tomorrow." The closer they got to the fortress, the harder hunting became. They were spotted more often. Meals grew scarce. But they pressed on. Lumberling discovered that he could go three days without food and still fight well. His body had changed. Essence had changed him. After one month and two weeks, they finally reached their destination. The trio emerged from the forest—exhausted, filthy, armor scuffed and clothes tattered. "We’re here," Rex sighed. "Don’t let your guard down," Uncle Drake said. "We’re only a few kilometers away..." Rex murmured, eyes fixed on Ryazan Fortress. Lumberling, perched in a tree, spotted thousands of Sengolio soldiers camped outside. "We need rest first. Then we plan," Drake said. They found a hidden grove nearby and collapsed in exhaustion. Lumberling opened his status window: Name: Lumberling Race: Human Age: 17 Level: 3 Essence: 785 / 1040 Power: 474 Knight Stage: Unranked Active Skills: Beginner Sprint Lv0 (486 / 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 (651 / 1000) Beginner Swordsmanship Lv1 (468 / 1000) Beginner Bowmanship Lv0 (99 / 1000) Beginner Shieldmanship Lv0 (9 / 1000) Beginner Concealment Lv0 (178 / 1000) "I’ve come far... but there’s still a long road ahead." He smiled faintly. Every small improvement felt like victory. Just as he was about to drift off, danger tingled up his spine. ’Someone’s here.’ Lumberling rolled slightly, hiding a dagger in his grip. The figure crept close, an iron collar in hand, reaching for his neck. He struck like lightning—eyes snapping open, hand grabbing the wrist, dagger piercing the attacker’s gut. The man recoiled in pain. The collar dropped. "You... you’re a Knight Page?" he gasped. Lumberling stood over him. Calm. Unflinching. "Ha... I hoped you wouldn’t do it, Rex." "You traitorous bastard! Attacking your superior?!" Rex reached for a weapon—but Lumberling activated Sprint, slashing his arm off before he could react. "Aaaahhh!!" Rex screamed. He struck back—but Lumberling blocked, kicked him in the gut, then kneed him in the face. Rex collapsed. "No—don’t kill me! I’m a noble! You can’t—" Lumberling picked up the iron collar. "Speak the truth and I’ll let you live. What were you planning?" "I... I wasn’t trying to kill you... just wanted to give you something—" "Why sneak up on me then?" "Please—stop the bleeding—it hurts—it—" he gasped, fear consuming him. Lumberling sighed. "It’s too late. The poison’s already spread." He swung his blade. Rex’s head rolled across the forest floor. Purple smoke rose from the corpse and flowed into Lumberling. (You have devoured the Knight Page’s essence. 55 essence absorbed. Absorbing a portion of the Knight Page’s memories and experiences.) Lumberling stared at the body. Killing had become easy. Too easy. "Am I becoming a killer? Or is it just this world...? No... I need to stay grounded. I can’t let power make me forget who I am."