The Sovereign System.

Luke cantered atop his mare, using the stars scattered across the night sky to guide his course. The cold wind brushed against his face, easing the tension that gripped his heart. He replayed the plan in his mind, over and over, searching for flaws—of which there were many.

In the distance, smoke curled upward, faint but unmistakable. He urged his horse to slow, eventually bringing her to a stop. The other soldiers followed suit, dismounting and waiting for his orders.

"You two, remove your weapons," Luke instructed, his tone firm. He turned to the last remaining soldier. "Stay here with the horses. If you don't hear the signal within the next hour, return to the forest. If all goes well, we'll meet at the rendezvous point tomorrow afternoon."

"Yes, Commander," the soldier replied with a respectful bow.

Sliding off his mare, Luke patted her head gently. Over time, he'd grown fond of the animal, even if she had a mischievous streak. "I'll see you soon," he murmured.

With a deep breath, he turned toward the rising smoke and steeled his resolve. "Let's move out."

Luke and two soldiers began their trek toward the smoke. With every step, his heart pounded wildly in his chest. The more he scrutinized the plan, the more absurd it seemed.

But he pressed on. There's no turning back now…

After twenty minutes of walking, they spotted the camp nestled among the caravans. There were about ten in total, and at least twenty people sat around a central fire, where food was being cooked and served.

"Halt! State your purpose here!" a voice called out, startling Luke and sending his heart racing. He raised his hands, halting in place with a deliberately anxious expression.

It wasn't entirely an act—his nerves were frayed. The fire's glow cast shadows over the speaker, but the silhouette of a long spear pointed in his direction was clear enough.

"I'm sorry! We're weary travelers looking for work," Luke shouted, his voice trembling just enough to seem genuine. This was the most critical part of the plan. If it failed, their lives would be forfeit.

A tense silence followed, broken only when a figure rose from the firelight and limped toward them. The man's face was obscured, but his stature and unsteady gait betrayed his age.

"Tell me, where did you travel from?" the older man asked, suspicion lacing his tone.

"W-We were working as laborers for a merchant caravan traveling from Pu Dong City to Xiu Fortress," Luke stammered, weaving his story. "The caravan was attacked by bandits, and everyone was killed. We barely escaped with our lives but lost everything in the raid."

The older man's eyes narrowed. "What merchant would travel by caravan when the ferry is faster and far safer?" he countered, his suspicion deepening.

The man with the spear stepped closer, pressing the weapon's tip against Luke's chest. Luke let out a muffled shriek, a sound that wasn't entirely feigned.

"H-He was a stingy bastard! The guy didn't want to pay the tariff. Our pay was just a few copper coins for the whole trip, and we didn't even get that," Luke stammered, a cold sweat trailing down his back.

The old man studied him, narrowing his eyes. After a moment's contemplation, he tapped the spearman on the shoulder. To Luke's immense relief, the weapon was lowered, allowing him to let out a genuine sigh.

"I can hire you three as laborers, but I don't pay much better," the old man said, gesturing for them to step inside the camp.

'Holy shit, it worked!'

"Thank you so much! You hear that, Liu, Long? I told you we'd find work!" Luke exclaimed with enthusiasm, glancing at the two soldiers by his side. They were seasoned fighters, but acting was far from their forte.

"Y-Yay," one of them muttered stiffly, nearly making Luke facepalm.

"Hurry up and get inside before I change my mind," the old man barked, limping back toward his spot near the fire.

"Yes, boss!" Luke replied, quickly falling in step behind him.

For the next hour, they sat around the fire with the other camp members. Luke eased into the persona he had crafted for this mission, maintaining the energy of a chatty, desperate laborer. The old man in charge of the caravans—Tang, as he introduced himself—was grumpy on the surface, but his actions were kind.

The two soldiers stayed mostly silent, leaving Luke to carry the conversation. Like an eager child, he peppered Tang and the others with questions. Though seemingly unrelated, his inquiries were carefully designed to gather as much useful information as possible.

"You sure are talkative," Tang remarked, shaking his head. "You'd give my granddaughter a run for her money."

"Sorry... My friends always say the same thing," Luke replied, feigning embarrassment. By now, he had gleaned enough information. Any further probing risked arousing suspicion.

Later that night, Luke found a quiet spot to rest. Lying on his back, he stared at the stars dotting the night sky.

'That old fart is actually a sweet guy,' he mused, patting his full stomach. Tang, despite his gruff demeanor, had ensured Luke and the others were well-fed and settled before turning in himself.

'It's hard to think of these people as enemies.' Luke sighed. It was easier to picture the Qin Empire's people as savages, but deep down, he knew better. They were just people, like him, with families and lives to live. Yet greed—the insatiable hunger of kings and emperors—had made pawns of them all.

Bitter thoughts swirled in his mind as he turned onto his side, the faint scent of firewood clinging to his clothes. Eventually, exhaustion overtook him, pulling him into a restless sleep.

"Alright, ya lazy bastards! Time to get on the road!" Tang's gruff voice jolted Luke awake.

Groaning, Luke sat up, his legs still sore from the three-day ride. Around him, the camp bustled with activity. Everyone had begun to pack up, including Liu and Long, who were already up.

Stretching his stiff limbs, Luke stood and joined in, blending seamlessly into the morning chaos.

When it came time to leave, he and the two soldiers were placed in the last carriage, much to his delight.

'Now I won't have to make up an excuse to return to the granary…' he thought with glee.

The trip took another six hours—far slower than it would be on horseback—thanks to the weight of the carriages. When the fortress walls came into view, Luke inhaled sharply.

The walls, at least thirty feet high and built of stone, reminded him of Clayton City. However, their design seemed more meticulous, with watchtowers spaced evenly and patrol paths between them. Soldiers walked those paths, even on the north side that faced the Empire.

As they approached, Luke's heart pounded loudly in his chest, anxiety gripping him once more. The large wooden gate, spanning over half the thirty-foot-high walls, was shut tight, guarded by stone-faced soldiers. Their carriage halted as these guards advanced to inspect the goods.

"Step out of the carriage," one soldier ordered, prompting Luke and the others to comply. The inspection was thorough but swift, marked by an obvious urgency.

'They definitely know…' Luke thought. Any lingering doubt he had was gone. The heightened security, along with the delivery of goods from Pu Dong City, confirmed his suspicions.

"Open the gates!" the soldier shouted. Moments later, the groan of wood cut through the air as the massive gate began to open, revealing a tunnel.

They proceeded through the first set of gates and into a tunnel that stretched at least fifty feet. On the other side, another set of gates waited, already opened.

'Two sets of gates… Rather ingenious,' Luke mused. Even if an enemy force managed to break through the first gate, they would be funneled into the tunnel and forced to breach the second.

Luke glanced upward, spotting holes that led to the patrol paths above—murder holes, or Loukou as the Qin Empire called them. In a siege, boiling water or hot oil could be poured on attackers, maximizing damage in the confined space.

Feeling his stomach churn, Luke refocused on the carriages.

After leaving the tunnel, the city sprawled out before them. Its architecture and general atmosphere bore an unsettling resemblance to Clayton City. People hurried about, soldiers among them, each with a purpose.

The carriages rumbled on toward the granaries near the center of town. Four of them stood in a row, raised on wooden stilts. Eventually, the caravan came to a stop, and Old Man Tang began barking orders.

Luke and the two soldiers hopped down from the carriage and began unloading the front ones. A few other laborers joined in, working quickly and efficiently. Inside, the granaries were practically overflowing with foodstuffs.

Salt, millet, rice, wheat, barley, soybeans, mung beans—there was even salted fish carefully packed among the crates. Most of the items were chosen for easy long-term storage.

The moment a carriage was empty, it rolled off toward the city gate. One by one, the nine carriages ahead of Luke's were unloaded, leaving only the last. By then, Luke was drenched in sweat, inwardly cursing the hard, unpaid labor he was stuck with.

"You guys finish up with the last one and meet us at the gate," Old Man Tang called over his shoulder, hopping onto the second-to-last carriage.

"Y-Yes, sir!" Luke gasped, masking a grin that threatened to break free.

"You heard the old man—let's get this done," he announced to his two soldiers. Together, they continued unloading the final carriage until only two bags remained.

"Is this all the flour?" Luke murmured, frowning. He'd helped with nearly every carriage, and it seemed this was it.

'Shit! This had better be enough…' he thought.

As one of the soldiers reached for a bag, Luke stopped him. "I'll take it myself." Slinging the heavy burlap sack over his shoulder, he carried it into the fullest granary and set it down.

With some effort, he tore open the sack and flung flour around until the air was thick with white dust, making it difficult to see. Holding his breath, he poked his head out to ensure no one was watching, then scurried into the next granary to repeat the process until the sack was empty.

Just as he stepped out to grab the last bag, a guard approached. "What's taking so long?"

Luke's heart hammered in his chest, but he forced himself to stay calm. "S-Sorry, just one more bag left and we'll be done!"

The guard rolled his eyes. "Hurry up!"

Biting his tongue, Luke rushed to grab the final bag of flour and carried it into the granary farthest from the others. He quickly slit it open, scattered the flour into the air, and left.

"Let's go," he said, jumping onto the carriage.

He wasn't able to coat the fourth granary, but having managed three out of four felt like a minor victory—or so he told himself.

As they rode back to the city gates, Luke closed his eyes and activated his Eagle Eye skill, memorizing the granaries' positions. Once finished, he frowned deeply.

'This is going to be tougher than I originally thought…'