The Sovereign System.

The carriages made their way out of the city, heading back toward the port to collect the next load of supplies. Luke's heart pounded the entire time, afraid they might be stopped. Even after they passed through the gates without incident, he couldn't fully relax.

He finally lowered his guard only when Xiu Fortress's walls disappeared beyond the horizon. It felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, but the mission was far from over.

As dusk settled, Old Man Tang signaled for the carriages to halt and set up camp. Everyone quickly organized their tasks before night fell.

While the smell of firewood and cooking filled the air, Luke rose from his makeshift seat and exchanged a glance with the two soldiers.

"Where are you going? The food's nearly ready," Old Man Tang asked.

"Ah, gotta take a dump," Luke replied, rubbing his stomach. "My gut's been off since we got attacked by those bandits."

"I don't need to hear that crap!" the old man barked, waving him away.

Luke chuckled, offered a quick apology, and slipped into the darkness. The two soldiers followed, and once they were out of earshot, they jogged west until the campfire was no longer visible.

Ten minutes later, the steady thunder of hooves alerted them. Luke squinted, his Eagle Eye skill letting him see details at a distance.

"They're here," he said quietly.

Kayson and Lieutenant Commander Stoddard led the group, accompanied by several others and a few spare horses. Luke felt a surprising surge of happiness at the sight of his mare galloping toward him—more than he felt for his approaching comrades.

When they arrived, Kayson vaulted off his horse and rushed over, pulling Luke into a tight bear hug. "You're alive, brother!" he exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.

Luke twisted free. "Of course I'm alive, you bastard. Let go before you crush me," he said, delivering a playful kick to Kayson's shin. Despite his protests, Luke felt a pleasant warmth at his friend's enthusiasm.

"Did you succeed?" Stoddard asked from atop his horse.

"Of course. Who do you think I am?" Luke shot back with a grin. He turned to his mare and ran a hand along her neck. "Good to see you, girl."

"Looks like you're happier to see that bloody horse than me," Kayson muttered, but Luke ignored him, content to let the mare nibble his hand.

"Did you take care of the port?" Luke asked, still focusing on his horse.

"The port's destroyed, and the remaining food was dumped in the river," Stoddard reported in a flat tone. "Should we kill the people driving the carriages?"

"No need. By the time they reach the port, we'll be done anyway," Luke replied with a casual shrug. "Send me ten of your best archers and move the rest of the men a few miles west, then head south. We don't want to alert the fortress."

"Yes, Commander."

Stoddard and the others rode off, leaving Luke and Kayson alone with their horses.

"How confident are you?" Kayson asked for what felt like the hundredth time.

This time, Luke spoke honestly. "The granaries are closer to the center of the fortress. Even with a recurved bow, I might not be able to reach that distance—especially if I have to shoot over the wall."

Kayson stayed quiet for a moment before crouching down and ripping up several blades of grass. Rising, he let them slip from his hand. The strands flew eastward with the wind, then fluttered to the ground.

"A strong easterly wind," Kayson observed, smiling broadly. "Looks like the heavens are on your side, brother."

"Mmm… We just need the flame to reach the granary," Luke replied, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. "Even then, the flour was coarser than I expected, and we only had two bags. I just hope it's enough to ignite them." Only when Kayson was around did Luke share such worries.

Kayson rested a reassuring hand on Luke's shoulder. "Some things you can't control, brother. Just make sure you don't miss."

Luke let out a hollow chuckle. "Easy for you to say."

About five minutes later, ten mounted soldiers arrived, each carrying a recurved bow—just as Luke had requested. One soldier dismounted and handed Luke an extra bow, which he inspected thoroughly.

In the three months of Master Boyd's training, Luke had tested many weapons, but the bow still felt the most natural. The system's weapon proficiency made it feel as though he'd been an archer for years.

"How many arrows do we have?" Luke asked.

"More than fifty, Commander."

"Five volleys…" he muttered. "It'll have to be enough."

He mounted his mare with practiced ease, and she responded with a playful stomp, as if glad to have him back.

"Good girl," he said, stroking the back of her head. "Let's head southwest, then cut east when we're close to the fortress."

The group moved out under cover of night. Moonlight filtered through breaks in the clouds, offering them better visibility—but also risking detection by the enemy. Fortunately, the clouds were thick, and Luke hoped a proper window of darkness would come.

The detour took nearly three hours, but he wasn't in a hurry. Fatigue gnawed at him, yet it was drowned out by the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

As they neared the fortress walls, Luke felt his heart hammering in his chest, as if it might burst free at any second. He glanced skyward, grinning slightly as the moon disappeared behind a thick bank of clouds.

"Let's go," he ordered.

At roughly three hundred feet from the wall, Luke called a halt. This was the closest they dared approach without alerting the guards—a possibility only afforded to them by the near-total darkness.

"Get into position," Luke said in a hushed voice. He dismounted, retrieved his bow, and pulled out an arrow wrapped in oil-soaked cloth. Its weight was notably heavier than a regular arrow, stirring a twinge of unease.

Even with a favorable wind, distance could be an issue.

"The moment our arrows are lit, we'll give away our position," he continued. "Once you shoot, grab another arrow and light it—don't wait for my orders. Even if they fire on us, keep shooting until we run out of arrows, or until I say otherwise. Understand?"

"Yes, Commander," they answered in near-perfect unison.

"Good. Kayson, light the fire."

Kayson nodded and began preparing the tinder. Meanwhile, Luke activated his Steady Heart skill. A soothing calm washed over him as he scanned the fortress wall, his anxiety fading. The easterly wind picked up, tousling his brown hair. Conditions seemed ideal for launching their arrows, but Kayson fumbled nervously with the flint.

"Take it easy, brother. Rushing will only slow you down," Luke said quietly.

"A-Alright," Kayson stammered, taking a steadying breath. His tense shoulders eased, and he soon succeeded in creating embers and coaxing them into a flame.

Torch in hand, Kayson's success came at a cost: their bright flame revealed their location. Voices rang out from the city walls as Kayson touched the torch to the arrows' oil-soaked cloth.

Luke drew his bowstring taut, waiting for the others to be ready.

"On my mark…"

"FIRE!"

The twang of bowstrings and the whoosh of released arrows reverberated against the stone walls, echoing into the night. Flaming arrows lit the dark sky like fireworks as they arced toward the fortress.

Even before the first arrows landed, Luke and the others were already nocking their next shots. Kayson sprinted between them, torch in hand, igniting each arrow before it was loosed in another volley.

Luke activated his Eagle Eye skill, briefly tracking the second volley to gauge where the arrows fell. The wind carried them well, but it wasn't enough to strike the granaries.

"Shoot higher!" he ordered, deactivating his skill.

While they readied the next barrage, enemy arrows began to rain down from the ramparts. The first wave of arrows landed some twenty feet short—a consequence of the tailwind. Luke knew, however, that the fortress soldiers would correct their aim soon enough.

He took extra care with his next shot, tilting his bow higher than before. Hot oil dripped from the arrow onto his bow hand, searing his skin. Grimacing in pain, he held steady, only releasing when he felt he had the perfect angle.

His arrow was the last to fly, cutting through the dark sky like a soaring dragon. A surge of confidence welled within him as he watched it vanish over the wall, feeling in his gut that it would find its mark.

"ARGH!"

A volley of enemy arrows rained down, and one struck the soldier beside Luke in the shoulder. He recoiled, nearly colliding with the horses behind them. The animals whinnied and stamped in agitation, their anxiety tangible.

Luke paid them no mind. He was about to shut his eyes and reactivate his Eagle Eye skill when a resounding boom echoed from within the fortress. His eyes flashed with elation, especially as a second and third explosion followed.

"We're done here! Retreat!" Luke shouted, slinging his bow over his shoulder.

Kayson and the others needed no further prompting. He tossed the torch aside and helped the wounded soldier onto his horse, then mounted his own and spurred it westward.

Luke cast a final glance at the fortress, noting black smoke curling above the walls. A sly grin crossed his face before he turned and spurred his mare to a gallop. Panicked shouts trailed them but were soon lost in the rushing wind.

They rode nonstop for nearly three hours until they caught up with the rest of the group. By then, it was past midnight, and most of the soldiers were asleep or resting.

Lieutenant Commander Stoddard was still awake. He emerged to greet them, curiosity written plainly on his face.

"We have one injured—take him to get treated," Luke ordered, dismounting his mare. He stroked the horse's neck in thanks, then strode past Stoddard without a word of greeting.

"C-Commander!" Stoddard called after him. "Was the mission a success?"

"Get me some food and water—I'm starving," Luke answered gruffly. He was only just realizing he'd missed dinner, and exhaustion pressed on him after a day of labor and riding.

Luke headed deeper into the camp, Kayson following close behind. He stopped at a fire ringed by a few unsuspecting soldiers, dropping down to warm himself.

Riding against the easterly wind had chilled him to the bone. Without armor or heavier clothing, he might as well have been riding buck naked.

"Thank fuck for that," Luke muttered contentedly, rubbing his hands over the crackling flames. Some nearby soldiers edged away, as though sensing his mood.

Over the last few days, he had earned a reputation for a quick temper—although most of it was an act. As both a commoner and a student at the Military Academy, he needed some means of controlling the soldiers.

Unfortunately for them, this included using his Domineering Air skill now and then when giving orders, creating a decidedly hostile work environment.

Luke chuckled inwardly, feeling his spirits lift.

Kayson slipped into the seat the other soldiers had vacated and nudged Luke with an elbow. "That was some good shooting," he remarked with a grin. "They must be in a total panic by now."

Luke nodded but couldn't quell a flicker of concern. "There were three explosions. Hopefully the last granary went up, too."

"Three out of four ain't bad. It's definitely a lot less food than they would've had," Kayson said, as if trying to reassure him.

"Heh… You're right, brother. Even if the fourth one didn't burn completely, some of it must've been ruined by the blaze," Luke replied, as though trying to convince himself.

In the end, as long as the siege ended within the next four days, little else would matter.