Luke heard someone call his name before he even finished biting into the apple.

  “Hey, Luke,” a voice said, steady footsteps crunching over the gravel.

  Within seconds a whole group emerged from the path, moving with urgency. Luke narrowed his eyes. That group never showed up without a reason, and definitely not all together. It was Haven’s core members: Eugene in front, with Miriam, Cicilia, Thiara and Gilbert close behind. Every one of them wore the same tight, restless expression, as if they had come straight from a high-pressure meeting.

  They knew, just as he did, that Jonathan was still loose somewhere nearby. The entire village had been alerted about the fugitive criminal, and his face, or rather, one of the many faces he could be wearing, was plastered all over the place, along with warnings about his shapeshifting skill.

  “Where’s Allison?” Eugene asked bluntly.

  “You’re all acting weird,” Miriam complained, crossing her arms. “We owe her. We’re supposed to be celebrating all of this together.”

  Luke tilted his head slightly, chewing slowly while he studied them.

  “We’re not Jonathan, man,” Eugene added, raising the spear in his hand. Electricity crackled across the metal, humming faintly. The others followed suit, each conjuring a distinct skill, small, quick demonstrations meant to prove they were the real ones.

  “So where is she?” Miriam pressed.

  The armor they wore caught the late afternoon light, making the Rhiannon crest shine, a dragon ready to strike. Everything about them radiated devotion. Fanaticism, even.

  Luke let out a quiet sigh.

  “If Allison hasn’t shown herself, use your brains. That’s exactly what she wants. Let her live her life and stop hunting her down.”

  “We have to stay by her side,” Miriam shot back. “We swore we’d be part of her faction. We swore it on our lives.”

  'They’ve turned into some kind of medieval fan club', Artemis muttered dryly in the back of his mind.

  There were things they didn’t know, like the fact that Allison had tried to die in the tutorial. That stayed between her and Luke. No one else needed to hear that. Officially, the group had only been told about Jonathan’s attack.

  “We let Angelica die once because we weren’t with her,” Miriam said, her voice wavering with the memory. “We’re not letting that happen again.”

  Luke studied their faces, trying to decipher whether this was genuine concern or some twisted blend of guilt and misplaced devotion.

  “We just escaped a tutorial hellscape full of undead,” he replied carefully. “Allison fought a wyvern and then went toe to toe with the Midnight King. If she hasn’t come to anyone yet, she has her reasons. Maybe she wants to leave all of this behind. If you want to help, giving her space is the best thing you can do.”

  The group fell silent, each of them processing his words like they were trying to fit them into their own internal lore.

  “If you won’t help us, fine,” Eugene said at last, his expression hardening. “We’ll handle it. At least we’ll protect her until someone from her family arrives.”

  They turned and began to walk away, determination stiffening their shoulders.

  Okay, they managed to misunderstand everything even worse.

  “Go find Erza,” he called after them. “Allison should be with her. Go bother Erza and test her patience instead.”

  The five of them kept walking as if they’d just been handed a fresh divine mission. Luke knew the type well: the kind who would comb through every house in the village until they found whoever they were after. At least, he thought, they’d be doing something useful if they happened to stumble across Jonathan on the way.

  “What about me?” a voice asked behind him.

  Luke almost dropped the apple in his hands. He turned slowly, already sensing the trouble he had just invited.

  “Oh. Erza… what do you mean, you?” he asked.

  “You told them to go bother me,” Erza replied, her tone as calm as ever.

  “Told them? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  She has good ears…

  Erza walked toward him, flanked by five maids and by Anne. The maids advanced in an almost military formation, as if escorting a warborn noble; Anne, silent as always, followed a little behind, her expression neutral but her eyes sharp.

  “Murderer,” Erza said once she was close enough for only him to hear clearly. “I’m not going to take part in whatever you and Rhiannon are planning.”

  “I know,” Luke answered bluntly.

  “But I won’t interfere either. I don’t really care,” she added.

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  And he knew honesty when he heard it from her, and right now, she meant it.

  “I came here to say goodbye. I’m leaving,” Erza said without a hint of drama.

  He had already heard about this from Anne. Her immediate future diverged sharply from the rest of the group’s. Most of them would travel to the modern world. Erza, meanwhile, would return home, her real home, to her kingdom in the New World. What Luke didn’t know was how: teleportation? Caravans? Portals? Some arcane method unique to her family? Nothing had ever been explained.

  “So the moment of farewell finally arrived,” Luke said, eyeing the group accompanying her.

  His relationship with those women was difficult to label. In the beginning, he had found Bastion’s maids genuinely terrifying, with good reason. Later, he lived among them more like a hostage, always stepping carefully on uneven ground. And eventually, they fought side by side to survive the tutorial. Out of everyone he had met during that time, his friendship with Erza and Anne was easily the most unexpected.

  “We… are… going… home,” Anne said, her voice as soft and timid as always. A bizarre contrast for someone capable of silently killing a battalion.

  “I’m going back to my country to see my family,” Luke said, “but at some point I’ll have to return to the New World.”

  “Oh, you’ll be back,” Erza stated with that unnerving certainty in her voice. “Especially once things in this world start to shift now that our tutorial is over.”

  Erza always had that way about her. She knew more than she shared, and she shared just enough to leave people uneasy. After everything they had gone through, Luke recognized that feeling: something big was coming, something the tutorial had only hinted at, like the curtain rising before the real spectacle begins.

  “I’m going to tell you a few important things, Luke,” Erza said, stepping closer. The maids behind her stood in perfect silence, disciplined shadows waiting for orders.

  “The kings of the world are the first system users of our universe. The first generation. That includes the woman who leads the Grimhart family, my grandmother. Even though I’m her granddaughter, she looks as young as I do because of the system.”

  Luke had already suspected part of that. The World Government, despite being a colossal entity that governed the entire planet, was so steeped in secrecy that almost nothing about it was public knowledge. People had rumors, the organization’s name and the vague idea of what it represented: extraordinary families who single-handedly ended every war on Earth.

  But what Luke had learned in the tutorial told a very different story. The peace of the modern age was only the veneer. Beneath it, those powerful families were waging their own wars, not for land or borders, but for something far greater. A silent race to ascend, to become gods.

  “The system extended their lifespan like it did for us,” Luke said, finishing the thought.

  “As you must have learned from your Guide, we gained an extra hundred years,” Erza explained. “And on top of that, a body so enhanced that no common illness can touch us. We’re physically perfect now. It’s like Darwin’s theory of evolution, and the system is the missing piece that makes it real.”

  She tilted her head slightly, watching his reaction, making sure he was following.

  “The next step for humanity is being taken by people like us. Those of us at Rank E are everything kings and rulers of the past wanted to be. Go back a few centuries and you’ll see it clearly. Those ancient dictators, even with all their power, always longed for one thing. And what was it?”

  Luke didn’t need to think long. The answer came instinctively.

  “More time to live.”

  “Exactly.” Erza’s lips curved into one of her predatory smiles, the kind that never foreshadowed something simple. “From the mightiest pharaoh in Egypt to the dictator of a modern nation, they all reached the same conclusion: ‘How do I live longer?’. And now the system grants that to everyone. And more than longevity. It gives the chance to become a god.”

  Erza kept her gaze fixed ahead before speaking again.

  “Don’t be mistaken. I may be the granddaughter of one of those individuals, but my grandmother isn’t a typical grandmother,” Erza said. “She’s cold, ruthless, authoritarian. I’ve only seen her a handful of times.”

  She drew a slow breath. “And you should know that my upbringing as an assassin warped my sense of what a normal family even looks like. And still, even I can be afraid of my grandmother, enough to call her cruel, even by my standards. If removing me was ever necessary because I stood in her way, she wouldn’t hesitate.”

  A cruel assassin woman finding someone even more vicious than herself? Luke definitely knew that Erza’s grandmother wasn’t someone very pleasant.

  “The longer they live, the longer their reigns last,” he murmured, piecing it together.

  Erza nodded slowly, the kind of nod people give when something obvious is finally spoken aloud. “The kings of the world, my grandmother included, are the first users of the system and the most ambitious, power hungry people alive. In our universe, they’re the ones closest to becoming gods. They still have a long way to go, of course. But all of them are the strongest individuals of the system’s first generation.”

  Her words hung heavy in the air. That select group didn’t just rule, they shaped the world. They were treated as near divine figures in their respective domains, people whose names alone decided fates without lifting a hand.

  “You’re really good at recruiting,” Luke remarked, recognizing the real intent behind her explanation.

  Erza didn’t bother dangling promises of wealth or titles in front of him. She went straight for logic, the way he actually thought. She knew medals and prestige meant nothing to him.

  “I haven’t given up,” she continued. “I’m a Grimhart, but even within my clan there are factions. I want mine to grow powerful. After all, I’m aiming for the crown. Just because I’m the queen’s granddaughter doesn’t mean anything comes easy. I have dozens of cousins, uncles and even my own mother standing ahead of me in line for power. The more favor the queen grants you, the better your position becomes.”

  Her eyes gleamed, ambition sharpened into something fierce.

  “You could accompany the queen to the most dangerous places in the world. Places overflowing with challenges, dungeons, treasures, rewards. The more a ruler favors you, the more opportunities you get.”

  He understood now that gaining a ruler’s favor meant gaining access to things any ambitious person would kill for: legendary gear, high risk opportunities, unexplored territories, places where the world bent under strange and dangerous rules that promised equally dangerous rewards.

  “But there’s something curious, a little extra piece of information,” Erza murmured as she leaned in. “Of all the kings in the world, only one of them died. And he’s the founder of Allison Rhiannon’s family.”

  Luke already knew that, but only at the surface level. Now, with the political context finally making sense, he understood the weight behind it. The Rhiannon clan was one of the most influential families in the World Government. Losing a leader of that scale wasn’t simply a tragedy; it was a quiet earthquake.

  And now, how Allison’s relative had died was a mystery. But Luke wasn’t going to ask about it. His focus now was helping Allison build a new life.

  “That’s my small contribution of information for you,” Erza said, straightening. “I’ll see you around.”

  She gathered the ends of her dress and offered a graceful bow.

  “Until next time… lord Luke,” Anne whispered, soft as ever.

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