Chapter 76: Arrival
Ruined Amara Town lay silent under the pale morning sun.
Atop a three-meter wall stood a middle-aged man with dark brown hair and a heavy mustache. His build was soft, almost obese—yet his eyes were sharp with ambition and impatience.
If Selene had been here, she would've screamed.
Jared Duskbane.
The very man whose body she had possessed in Bennett's dream.
He muttered to himself, voice tinted with frustration. "Once I open that sealed door and take the treasure… I'm done with this cursed wasteland."
His gaze swept across the empty land—the thin river flowing a kilometer away, the tall grass stretching endlessly, and the skeleton of a town below the wall.
More than a hundred ruined houses sat scattered like broken teeth. Only a single mansion remained untouched by time, standing arrogantly at the center like it mocked the ruins around it.
"Twelve years… and not a damn step forward."
A sharp shout echoed from the distance.
Jared snapped his head around.
A young scout in a blue uniform galloped toward the wall, waving frantically. Dust kicked up behind the horse as the boy leaped off and stumbled forward.
"Trouble—My Lord! Trouble!"
"What is it?" Jared demanded.
"Thomas Holmes—he's marching toward us! With knights!"
Jared's brows crashed together. "Oh? The little brat finally comes out of hiding. When will he arrive?"
The scout glanced behind nervously. "Less than an hour, My Lord."
"What?! Less than—why are you reporting this now? Where is Bennett? Why didn't he warn me?"
"I-I don't know!" the boy stammered. "I saw several cavalry riders preparing to march from Humming Villa… that's when I realized—"
"Tsk." Jared clicked his tongue sharply and dropped from the wall, landing on the cracked stones below. "Annoyance."
He strode toward the center square.
More than fifty people milled about the broken cobblestone streets. Tents lined the area, pots boiled on makeshift stoves, and several men carried barrels of water from outside.
The moment Jared appeared, they all stopped and bowed.
A bald man, Casper—around fifty, burly and scarred—stepped forward. "Good morning, Master Jared."
"Casper. Prepare for battle."
Casper blinked. "Pardon?"
"I said prepare for battle. Thomas Holmes is marching here. Take care of him—but don't kill him."
Casper's gaze sharpened. "How strong are his soldiers?"
"He took in Spade Academy brats seven years ago. They should be Elite Rank by now. Be careful of the mercenaries—six Radiant Walkers and one Apprentice Wizard." Jared recalled Bennett's notes. "And don't underestimate them."
Casper's lips curled. "Just Radiant Walkers? I alone could—"
"Don't get cocky." Jared cut him off sharply. "They were Red Sepoy Corps. Their leader—Scarlet Wolf—almost killed an Expert commander of the Shadow Nation in an infiltration mission."
A few men nearby sucked in deep breaths.
Casper's bravado faded. "Then… this might be interesting."
Jared scoffed and headed toward the mansion.
Behind him, Casper barked orders.
"Kevin, Jack, Gerald, Larry, Joe, Samuel—you six handle the Sepoy Mercs."
The group nodded grimly.
"The rest of you—kill the weaker ones. Capture the young lord." His voice hardened. "Alive."
The fighters dispersed, retrieving weapons from tents. Leather armor and iron boots replaced casual clothes. Some wielded curved sabers; others carried crossbows or thick shields.
Anyone watching would think they were elite soldiers—not outlaws recruited by Crest Merchandise.
Casper grinned, sliding his sword free. "Boys, get ready! If we catch him, we take this place for ourselves."
The camp roared in response.
…
Meanwhile, Raven's convoy quietly approached the ruined lands.
Inside the carriage sat Raven, Franco, and Rebecca—along with two new faces.
A red-haired young man with amber eyes.
A gray-haired man with iridescent, rainbow-colored eyes.
Raven adjusted his monocle, scanning the red-haired youth.
[Name: Roland
Title: Apprentice Seer
Rank: Acolyte Wizard (7th Circle)
Strength: 7.6
Agility: 6.9
Vitality: 7.8
Spirit: 19
Luck: 2
Spells: Seer's Intuition, Accelerate Thoughts, Future Glimpse, Past Look, Blink, Spatial Slash, Space Pocket
Affinities: Time — Intermediate, Spatial — Intermediate]
'Seven-Circle Acolyte Wizard… decent.'
Zera scoffed.
[Too many support spells. Not enough combat. If he fights like this, he'll die first.]
Raven addressed him.
"Roland, you'll lead the strategy. No casualties allowed."
Roland stiffened. "Without knowing the enemy numbers—My Lord, how many are there? Any Wizards?"
"Roughly fifty enemies," Raven said. "At least one Expert Rank Walker. A Wizard… unknown. That's why Rebecca supports you."
Roland nodded heavily. "I'll do my best."
Raven turned his attention to the rainbow-eyed youth.
[Name: Sam
Class: Archer
Rank: Radiant Walker (4th Circle)
Strength: 37
Agility: 39
Vitality: 38
Spirit: 90.2
Luck: 2
Skills: Wind Step, Whistling Arrow, Gale Shot, Silent Mark
Affinities: Wind — High, Fate — Low]
'Wind skills are good… but his aim is trash.'
He sighed.
'At least Lady Anastasia's gift solves this.'
"Sam," Raven said, pulling out a vial. "Drink this."
Sam didn't question. He swallowed it immediately.
A surge of energy hit him like a punch. He clutched his face, gasping as pain stabbed into his eyes.
"Don't rub them," Raven ordered. "Endure it."
Sam grit his teeth, trembling through the agony. Five minutes passed before his breathing slowed.
But the pain wasn't the important part.
His vision changed.
He began sensing faint threads—thin, invisible, connecting objects and movement paths. Like a web of trajectories.
Sam blinked rapidly as the world twisted. Threads—thin, luminous, delicate—hung everywhere like a web stretched across reality.
One thread pulsed brighter than the rest.
It was connected to Raven.
Sam focused on it.
Raven lifted his hand, adjusted his monocle, and murmured:
"I didn't expect the potion to awaken the Fate Sense skill."
Sam jerked back.
Raven turned toward him.
A wave of déjà vu hit—hard and dizzying.
Raven adjusted his monocle again, repeating the same movement, the same tone:
"I didn't expect the potion to awaken the Fate Sense skill."
"W-What…?" Sam's eyes widened. He had just seen that. Moments before it happened.
"You'll be confused for a while," Raven said calmly. "But that ability lets you see fragments of your near future."
Sam stared at his trembling hands, then at the thin threads attaching themselves to moving objects, people, even sunlight.
A world of trajectories and outcomes.
[Hawk Eye and Fate Sense… that's a rare combination.] Zera hummed.
"Hm," Raven muttered as he checked the monocle's display, "your accuracy has increased drastically. Focus on adapting. Move your archery from basic to intermediate. The rest will follow."
Sam opened his mouth—
"Don't use—"
"I'll keep that in mind, My Lord." He finished the sentence for him, already seeing it moments earlier.
Raven sighed with a wry smile, then reached into his inventory.
He pulled out the Starflare-3R rifle—the polished steel reflecting pale morning light.
The convoy slowed.
Sam and Roland bowed as they stepped out of the carriage.
…
The road beyond Humming Villa grew wild and twisted. What was once farmland had become a tangled forest.
Thick shrubs and spiny weeds clawed at the path.
Dark pines and towering spruces stretched across the horizon like an encroaching army.
Abandoned cottages sank under vines, roofs caved in, chimneys leaning like dying giants.
The soil turned from rough to rocky, from rocky to acidic dust. Raven stepped out multiple times to inspect it.
Franco observed quietly. "You'd need a fortune to clear this place."
"Forget the plants," Raven said. He scraped a handful of soil with a branch. "Rocky soil. Low nutrients. High acidity. My ancestors weren't clueless—they tried growing beans, corn, cabbage… all wrong choices."
Franco frowned. "Then what grows here?"
"Berries, potatoes, radishes, oats… things that thrive in acidic soil with proper treatment. Lime and manure can fix the worst of it."
The river running alongside the road glimmered under the rising sun—clear, fast, shallow. A blessing in this ruined land.
But the blessing ended the moment the wall came into view.
A stone rampart—three meters tall—surrounded Azmar Ruined Town like a cracked shell.
No trees grew near it. No shrubs. No weeds.
A deliberate clearing.
"I see humans on the wall," Fiona called from ahead.
"Five," Felicity added.
Jacob lifted his hand. "Halt!"
The convoy stopped 500 meters from the gate.
Metal creaked.
The gate opened.
Dozens of armed men marched out—armored, armed, disciplined.
Raven opened the carriage door and stepped out.
Franco followed. Rebecca. Then the others.
The air felt like steel—sharp and ready to break.
"My fellow Knights," Raven called out as the Sepoy Mercenaries moved slightly ahead.
Dozens of young Knights turned their heads toward him.
"I know some of you are afraid. Some are uncertain." His voice dipped into steel. "But if you hesitate to take a life, your head—or your comrade's—will be the first to fall."
He looked at Roland—the strategist seated on his horse.
"It's your turn."
Roland swallowed hard. "Y-Yes, My Lord."
Raven turned to Sam. "You know your role. The tide depends on you two."
"Yes, My Lord."
Raven's gaze shifted.
"Mr. Marcellus," he said, walking toward the carriage horses, "we'll be borrowing these."
He untied a horse, swung onto the saddle without waiting for the coachman.
Marcellus mounted beside him, gripping his sword.
"What's the plan, sir?" he asked.
Raven's monocle glinted as he studied the incoming enemy formation.
"We wait until Roland gives the command. Then we move."
He turned to Roland. "They have one Expert Walker. Six Radiant Walkers. The rest are Elite and Official Walkers. Enough?"
Roland's lips curved. "More than enough."
He guided his horse to Rebecca's side and pulled her up behind him.
"Stay close," he told her. "Protect me."
Then he rode ahead, raising his voice.
"Spearmen—front vanguard!"
Quincy, Lorelai, Brynn, Albert, Alexis, and Skyler moved forward with disciplined coordination.
"Fiona—left flank! Support us with ranged fire! Scott, Westin—guard her."
"Understood."
"Felicity, Alexis, Augustus—right flank. Take down as many as you can before melee."
"Roger."
"Jacob, Leona, Reece—stay behind the vanguard. You strike only when their elites or commander appears."
"Yes."
Roland looked at the Wizards.
"Miley with Liam. Memphis with Pierce. Left and right support. Cast wide spells—Ice Shards, Frost Pulse, Fire Orb, Wind Bind. Focus on disrupting them."
Memphis adjusted his gloves. "Got it."
"Protect each other," Roland ordered. "Retreat if needed."
He turned to the healers.
"Jeffery, Jamie—rescue and withdrawal support."
"Edgar, Drake—rear support and emergency healing."
"Yes, sir!"
Roland inhaled deeply, raised his hand—
"March!"
Quincy spurred the vanguard forward.
Liam and Pierce split left and right with Miley and Memphis behind them.
Fiona, Felicity, and their escort teams swept into the flanks like trained hunters.
Raven, Marcellus, and Sam followed Fiona's group quietly—slipping behind a boulder overlooking the battlefield.