The Sovereign System.

Kayson and Luke made the most of their time together at the City Lord's estate, sharing a sumptuous meal in the guest room. They indulged in the rice wine provided by Kayson's father, but as the night drew to a close, a somber mood settled over them.

Losing a brother during the assassination, just as they had been returning from a victorious battle, was a heavy blow. Though their friendship had only lasted a few weeks, time did not measure the depth of their bond.

Anyone who had faced battle knew the truth—those who fought by your side were more than just friends. They were family.

"He looked so scared..." Luke muttered, leaning back in his chair, his words slightly slurred.

"Aye. It was not a good death," Kayson replied bitterly.

"I don't think a good death exists, brother..."

Kayson shook his head. "That's not true. I can think of two," he said, setting his cup down on the table. "Dying on the battlefield while fighting for a cause you believe in—and dragging as many enemies to hell with you."

Luke raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced but intrigued. "And the other?"

A grin spread across Kayson's face. "In bed with a woman, rutting so hard your heart gives out. Aye, that's the way I'd want to go." He let out a peal of laughter.

The absurdity of his words forced a chuckle from Luke, which quickly turned into full-blown laughter as Kayson's contagious mirth filled the room.

The weight of their grief lifted, if only for a moment, and a wave of exhaustion crashed over Luke. Thanks to last night's ambush, they had been forced to ride out early, missing much-needed sleep.

"My bed calls me, brother. I must sleep," Luke declared, waving Kayson away like a noble dismissing a servant.

But as he tried to stand, the room spun violently, and he collapsed onto his back with a heavy thud.

Kayson roared with laughter before shaking his head and hauling Luke to his feet. Even through his inebriation, Luke could still feel the dull throb of his stab wound, though the alcohol numbed the worst of it.

Kayson eased him onto the firm mattress, pulled off his boots, and threw a blanket over him. "Sleep well, brother," he murmured before stepping out, the door clicking shut behind him.

Luke exhaled slowly, waiting for the room to stop spinning. This was the first time he had truly allowed himself to get drunk in this world since transmigrating four months ago.

In fact, this might have been the first time he had ever truly let his guard down.

Yet he did not regret it.

His fears had only deepened after seeing the system quest issued following the meeting.

"Will we even survive?" Luke mumbled, willing the system to open.

Main Quest: Ascent to Power (Part 3)

Details: The Sovereign System will not settle for weakness. Only those who aim to leave their mark in history may wield its power.

Task: Successfully defend Clayton City for the next 20 days

Reward: Skill Selection, Renown

Failure: Inevitable fall of the Marxx Kingdom

As he stared at the quest window before him, Luke felt the crushing weight of his task settle upon his shoulders. The quest all but confirmed his suspicions regarding Lhair's planned attack, yet knowing he was right brought him no solace.

A troubling thought gnawed at him—would the system have issued this quest at all if he hadn't deduced the attack? And if it had, would it have come this soon?

Worse still, the penalty for failure had changed once more. Losing the system was no longer the price of failure. Instead, the consequences were far more severe. If Clayton City fell, it would spell doom for the entire Marxx Kingdom.

Luke lacked the knowledge to verify the full extent of this claim, but he had no reason to doubt the system. If anything, it seemed intrinsically tied to this world in ways he had yet to understand.

Taking the warning at face value, it suggested that Clayton City wasn't just an outpost—it was the last stronghold in the North.

The thought sent a chill through him, its plausibility growing the longer he considered it. Farrow and Valand City had already fallen to treachery, and it wouldn't be surprising if more northern cities had suffered the same fate or were under siege at this very moment.

With the Marxx Kingdom's forces stretched thin, their armies committed to the war in the east, their homeland had been left exposed—undefended.

It was a masterstroke of strategy. Whoever had orchestrated this was a tactical genius.

And yet… something still felt off. Like a puzzle with a missing piece, the full picture remained just out of reach.

The room spun behind the glowing system window, nausea creeping up his throat. With a thought, Luke dismissed the screen and shut his eyes, rolling onto his side. The movement sent a sharp jolt of pain through his wounded body, forcing a curse from his lips.

'I'll think about it tomorrow.' He told himself, surrendering to the pull of sleep.

The next morning, Luke woke to the soft sound of birdsong drifting in through the guest room window. It was a pleasant contrast to the bludgeoning headache pounding against his skull.

Groaning, he sat up, his gaze sweeping the room in search of water.

The table had been cleared of the mess from the night before, and in its place stood a large pitcher of water.

Dragging himself to his feet, Luke hobbled over, pouring a cup and drinking deeply. If this were Earth, he'd be rummaging through the cabinets for paracetamol to dull the pain.

But this wasn't Earth.

A knock at the door pulled his attention away. Before he could respond, the door opened, revealing a maid who bowed politely.

"The Lord has requested your presence in the meeting hall, Master Drakon," she announced, lifting a polished wooden cane in her hands. "He also presents this as a small gift to ease your travel."

Luke accepted the cane with gratitude, running a hand over the smooth, sturdy wood. It was well-crafted and just the right height for him.

"I will thank the City Lord personally," he said, leaning onto the cane and testing his weight against it.

Then, shifting uncomfortably, he cleared his throat.

"Can you direct me to the latrine?"

Among the many things he missed from Earth, toilets ranked near the top.

Shitting in a hole was bad enough—doing it with a stab wound in his thigh? Pure agony. That was why he had been holding off for as long as possible.

"Right this way," the maid said, gesturing for him to follow.

After some painful maneuvers, Luke finally trudged back to the meeting hall where they had gathered the day before. Upon entering, he was surprised to find only the City Lord and Kayson present.

He promptly cupped his fist and bowed before the Viscount, adhering to the proper etiquette. Even if the man was his best friend's father, that did not excuse him from showing the respect his station demanded.

"How are you feeling this morning, brother?" Kayson asked, a crooked grin tugging at his lips.

Luke fought the urge to roll his eyes. As if he wasn't already concerned about the City Lord's impression of him, this idiot had to go and announce that he had been drunk the night before.

"I am well, thank you. The guest room was warm and inviting. I appreciate your hospitality, City Lord," Luke replied smoothly.

A small smile played at the Viscount's lips as his sharp blue eyes assessed him. Just as the silence threatened to turn awkward, the nobleman gestured toward a nearby chair.

"Please, take a seat."

Luke did as instructed, easing himself into the high-backed chair and shifting to find a comfortable position. He wasn't sure why the City Lord had summoned him—or why Kayson was in attendance—but something told him this was no casual meeting.

"My son has spoken highly of your deeds, Luke, and I must say, I am impressed," the City Lord said, tapping a finger against the armrest. "Were it only Kayson singing your praises, I might not have given them much weight, but the two Masters also spoke well of you. Even without their testimony, it is clear you are capable—and possess a sharp mind."

"You praise me too mu—"

"This is no time for modesty, Luke Drakon," the City Lord interjected, his tone firm yet even. "If what you say about the imminent attack is true, then we are in a time of crisis and need all the talent we can muster.

"I am reinstating you and Kayson as Commanders. You will each be given charge of twenty-five hundred men—Kayson at the eastern wall, and you at the northern."

Luke bowed his head in acceptance. "Yes, my Lord."

In truth, he had anticipated something like this. With the two Masters taking the role of Generals, his responsibility would be limited—unless, of course, something unforeseen occurred. And with his luck, something always did.

"May I ask how much food we have stored?"

The City Lord's expression remained unreadable. "With our fifteen thousand soldiers and ten thousand civilians, we should last upwards of two weeks."

'Two weeks?!'

Luke stiffened, his mind racing.

The system quest required him to hold the city for twenty days.

His fingers curled slightly against the armrest. Why are the granaries so empty?

"I know," the Viscount admitted, his tone calm but firm. "It is not as much as I would have hoped for. We sent many supplies to Xiu Fortress in the initial march. There is some livestock, but that would only buy us another two days at most." He exhaled lightly. "We have already dispatched a group of armed riders to request reinforcements. I pray we do not have to exceed this timeline."

Luke nodded, though unease settled in his gut. He had a sinking feeling that reinforcements would never come. The system quest required them to hold out for twenty days—which likely meant that, until then, they would be on their own.

Of course, he couldn't voice this aloud. But that didn't mean he couldn't take precautions.

"My Lord, I strongly suggest we begin rationing our food immediately," Luke said. "If we can prepare for a siege lasting over three weeks, it would be best."

The Viscount's brow lifted in question. "Rationing this early will only lower morale before the battle even begins," he replied dryly.

The man wasn't wrong. Cutting rations now would stir unease within the ranks, perhaps even resentment. But running out of food in the middle of the siege would be far worse. Hunger would weaken the soldiers, slow their movements, and create holes in their defenses.

"The reinforcements from Xiu Fortress should only take ten days at most," the City Lord continued. "I believe we can afford to maintain full rations for the first week. We will reassess after that."

Dismissed.

Luke's mind raced.

This was a mistake. A critical, potentially fatal mistake.

If the City Lord's assumption was wrong, if reinforcements didn't arrive in ten days, they would be left scrambling. By the time they realized the error, it would already be too late to adjust.

This decision would spell the fall of the Marxx Kingdom.

Luke exhaled sharply, tightening his fists beneath the table. He couldn't afford to tread lightly here—he had to convince the man.

"My Lord," he said carefully, "I don't believe we will see reinforcements from Xiu Fortress… at least not as soon as you expect."

Silence.

Both Kayson and his father turned to him at the same time. While the Viscount's expression was laced with suspicion, Kayson's was filled with disbelief.

"Luke…" Kayson hesitated. "I believed you when you warned us of this imminent attack, but this? What makes you so certain that General Hart won't send reinforcements the moment he receives our request?"

The Viscount's sharp gaze pinned him down, his patience wearing thin.

Luke opened his mouth to respond, but Kayson beat him to it.

"Wait—" Kayson suddenly sat forward. "You don't think there were more spies within Valand City's forces, do you? More than just Pierce?"

The air in the room shifted.

Luke met Kayson's gaze evenly.

"I think it would be foolish to assume otherwise," he said gravely.