Luke had reached the military encampment. It had taken him three days to get there from the temple. The camp sprawled across a wide stretch of open plains near the mountains and a massive abyss. At the base of those mountains lay the stronghold where the enemy army kept most of its forces concentrated.

  Getting anywhere near Cassandra’s camp hadn’t been easy. There were archer towers, constant patrols, eyes everywhere. The moment he was spotted, a squad formed up on the spot, ready to cut him down under the assumption he was one of Miles’s soldiers.

  Only after explaining himself did he finally receive permission to enter.

  He’d been inside a tent since early morning while several meetings took place. In the main pavilion, a mage had conjured an Anti-Sound Barrier so nothing inside could be heard from the outside. Not even Charlie’s enhanced hearing would have pierced it. But Luke… well, he had his own methods.

  Using [Soul Infiltration], he sent his soul-cat leaping into one of the people inside the tent and listened through their senses. Most of the meetings so far had been about strategy, logistics, and other useless details. But the one he was listening to now was actually interesting.

  Only Cassandra, Peter, and a handful of trusted soldiers were present.

  “That bastard baron has control of the exit. Even if we attack with the full army, he can still escape,” someone said.

  “Assuming he hasn’t already escaped. This whole thing may only have been to delay news of his betrayal. For all we know, he could already be far away.”

  “He’s still here. I know he is,” Cassandra replied. “If he was willing to betray the Kingdom of Lagras, it wouldn’t be just for treasure. He wants the legacy.”

  Luke didn’t care much about their faction war, but he had to admit the reasoning made sense.

  Eventually, he left the tent and walked the camp. More troops were arriving to reinforce Cassandra’s side. The soldiers stationed outside, the ones protecting the city of Sirius, had already begun mobilizing, even without knowing what was happening inside the rift. If Luke hadn’t been able to use Teleportation Pentagram, then neither artifacts nor communication magic were functioning either.

  When it was finally his turn for a meeting, he met with Peter.

  “We meet again, mercenary,” Peter said.

  “Yeah. We meet again.” Luke reached toward his storage item, and several soldiers immediately drew their swords.

  “It’s fine,” Peter said calmly. “Even if he tossed a bomb like those alchemists do, I’d manage.”

  Luke pulled out a box filled with more antidotes. He hadn’t sold all the ones he’d taken from the alchemists.

  “I brought these for you,” he said.

  “You know what’s interesting, mercenary?” Peter leaned back slightly. “You told us you were looking for the treasure. Not long after that, the fourth treasure was found.”

  “You really think a newcomer like me would just happen to find something your whole army has been searching for all this time?” Luke asked.

  'Yes. Just as unlucky as you are, you’re equally lucky,' Artemis murmured in his mind.

  “I find it hard to believe anyone could be that lucky,” Peter said. “And besides, the treasure is guarded by an army of oni. You wouldn’t get anywhere near it.”

  “At least now I know it wasn’t you,” Luke replied.

  “Or maybe it was us, and I’m only bluffing,” Peter said.

  Luke nudged the box lid open with his foot. “I’ll trade this for information.”

  “We don’t need it,” Peter said. “We already have soldiers capable of handling situations like this.”

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  “It’s never too much,” Luke answered. “One of these might save someone’s life.”

  “If you want information, you’ll have to offer far more than that.”

  “I know. That’s why what I want isn’t very valuable.”

  He explained his request.

  “That’s it? That’s easy to get. Any mercenary who’s lived in these lands knows that.”

  “And how do I get into Arcadia? I’m not interested in getting dragged into wars, and they seem busy with their own. Maybe they’d accept another member.”

  “Unlikely. They shut themselves off when all this chaos began. Although… that military acquaintance of yours managed to contact one of their leaders. If she goes with you, they might at least let you set up a tent near their territory.”

  ***

  Layla was inside her tent in the military encampment. The place felt almost absurdly secure, protected by the sheer number of soldiers living there. Her tent sat in a privileged area near the center, surrounded on all sides by bodies and defenses, shielded from anything that might threaten her.

  Life there, with no real worries, was almost like a vacation. Aside from the small detail that most people around her desperately wanted to march into a war.

  Her routine was simple. Wake up early, care for her skin, relax. She had more than enough food stored in her storage item. The army outside would go fight their glorious battle without her, and more reinforcements were still arriving through the dimension. It was only a matter of time before everything resolved itself. After all, she was on the winning side, the side of the kingdom. All she had to do was stay calm and comfortable.

  “In a way, this is like a vacation,” she murmured to herself as she spread a homemade cleansing mask across her face.

  My skin is going to be clean, smooth, and spotless.

  She might not be Rank E, but she had plenty of levels as Rank F, which already gave her a longer life expectancy than a normal person. On top of that, she aged more slowly, at least on the surface. A blessing, in her opinion.

  “No worries, no wrinkles,” she repeated like a mantra.

  Layla’s biggest problem was not the looming war. It was the worst person she had ever met in her life.

  That guy is far away from here, and I am never going to see him again, she thought with relief. He and his ridiculous magnet for trouble are nowhere near me, and I hope it stays that way.

  She finished checking herself in the mirror. A cap covered her hair, her face was coated in cream, and she sliced two thin strips of cucumber to place over her eyes. She lay back on the bed, completely relaxed.

  This is it. A peaceful, quiet life.

  “Hello, Layla,” said a voice beside her.

  Layla shot upright and jumped off the bed, grabbing her bow as her heart kicked into a sprint. When she finally saw who stood there, irritation burned straight through the fear.

  “Why are you here, you bastard? And why didn’t you make any noise like a normal person?”

  “What is that on your face, Layla? Halloween? You look terrible,” Luke said.

  She could practically feel wrinkles appearing that had not existed a moment ago, veins tightening at her temples.

  “What do you want in my sanctuary, you scoundrel? Unless you came to tell me we can leave this place, you have no reason to be here.”

  “Sanctuary? Layla, you cannot compete with the owner of this dimension when it comes to building a demonic temple,” he replied in that same confident, infuriating tone, settling calmly into a chair.

  Layla knew the feeling all too well. He was going to drag her into something again, something that would end with her arrested or nearly dead.

  “I need something only you can help me with, Layla.”

  “No. Absolutely not. I am not going anywhere with you. Last time I spent three days in a cave in some terrifying forest. And you, it is like you have infinite energy. Walk, walk, walk, kill a monster, almost die, walk again, almost die again, walk more. No. I want to relax.”

  “You summarized our routine pretty well,” said the woman’s voice that drifted from the pendant at his neck.

  “You owe me a few favors, Layla,” he said, standing and stepping closer.

  “S-stay away from me. I do not want your woman-manipulator germs anywhere near me.”

  He stopped right in front of her. “I put you in the best spot in this place, and besides that… I gave you a healing potion. Where is it? You already used it, didn’t you?”

  “T-that is none of your business. And for the record, I only came here because you used Eleanor to convince me.”

  He took hold of her chin. Layla tried to pull back, but the tent wall was already at her back.

  “Layla, Layla, changing the subject will not help. If you already used the healing potion, that means you owe me two favors… and I am collecting with interest.”

  The worst-case scenario. The scoundrel had come to claim his debt.

  “W-w-what do you want?” she asked, instantly regretting the words. Silence settled between them, and she swallowed hard.

  “Your body, Layla.”

  “M-my b-body? W-what do you mean?”

  “I promise it will not hurt.”

  I knew it. He really is a scoundrel. A manipulator of women.

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