The Sovereign System.

A full week passed before Clayton City emerged from lockdown. For Kayson, those seven days had been grueling, but he was finally allowed to visit his father at the City Lord's estate after the restrictions were lifted.

The Academy had continued lessons as if nothing had happened, though the increased security and the empty seats of fallen students served as constant reminders of the tragedy.

One crisp morning, the remaining students were gathered outside their new dormitory. Master Gale stood before them, his usual stern demeanor overshadowed by a heavy solemnity. Clearing his throat, he addressed the crowd.

"Word has come from the King in the capital," he began, his voice grave. "The Marxx Kingdom has declared war on the Qin Empire in retaliation for the assassinations carried out along the Eastern border."

'War?' Luke's mind reeled. The announcement struck like a thunderclap. How had the King determined that the assassins were from the Qin Empire? It didn't matter—orders were orders.

Murmurs rippled through the gathered students, but Master Gale silenced them with a sharp glance. "Twenty thousand men are marching to Clayton City to lead an offensive against the Qin Empire. Our objective is to lay siege to Xiu Fortress and drive back their forces."

He turned to one of the students. "Hayden," he said, "you will command the army for this campaign. Do you accept?"

"Yes, Master Gale." Hayden bowed slightly, a confident smile spreading across his face. Luke recognized him immediately—the same student whose aura of intimidation had unsettled him before.

Master Gale nodded in approval before his gaze shifted to another group. "Luke, Kayson, Arthur, Brian. You four will also join the battle to gain experience. I expect you to follow orders without question."

Luke's stomach twisted. 'Join the battle? We've only been at the Academy for three months!'

When none of them immediately responded, Master Gale's eyes narrowed.

 "Understood?" His voice dropped an octave, the weight of authority pressing down on them.

"Yes, Master," the four chorused, cupping their fists and bowing. No matter how absurd the order seemed, disobedience wasn't an option.

"The soldiers will arrive in a week," Master Gale continued. "Strategy meetings will begin once the officers are here. Until then, your training will proceed as usual. You are dismissed."

With that, the old master turned on his heel and strode away, leaving the students rooted in place.

Luke's throat felt as dry as a desert. He glanced at his companions, their faces pale and stricken. They looked like condemned prisoners awaiting their fate.

'Why us?' Luke's thoughts churned. 'Is it because we've already killed?' It was the only thing that set them apart from the other students. But it didn't make sense—taking one life in a moment of crisis was nothing like the chaos of a battlefield.

"Let's get some food," Kayson said suddenly, throwing an arm around Luke's shoulder. His voice was steady, but Luke felt the tremor in his body.

"Yeah," Luke replied, forcing a grin. "I could eat a damn horse."

Ten minutes later, the four sat around a table in the dining hall. Their plates were full, but the food remained untouched. The lie Luke had told earlier went unchallenged, the heavy silence between them too oppressive to break.

"Where do you think they'll place us?" Brian asked, his large frame hunched over the table, his voice laced with unease.

"It depends," Luke replied, absently moving rice around on his plate. "If the goal is to siege and take Xiu Fortress, they might have us commanding auxiliary units."

"You don't think they'll make us climb the wall, right?" Arthur asked, his voice shaky.

"It's unlikely," Kayson said confidently. "We'd just be fodder. Luke's theory is probably correct."

Hearing this from Kayson seemed to settle the others, their tense shoulders relaxing. The idea of scaling enemy walls under fire had clearly been gnawing at them.

"There's at least a three-day march to Xiu Fortress from here," Luke added, closing his eyes to picture the map he'd seen in the pavilion. "I doubt we'll get there without a fight."

"What are you saying?" Brian asked, his brows knitting together.

"If the Empire gets word of our movements, they'll likely intercept us in the field. Xiu Fortress is too important to them. It used to be part of the Marxx Kingdom, so they'll defend it at all costs. They won't let us set up a siege so easily," Luke explained.

"Correct!" A delighted voice interrupted from behind, causing them all to freeze. "It seems the young ones do have some promise."

The four turned sharply to see Hayden standing there, a grin plastered on his face as he held an open fan under his chin. His presence was commanding, yet he radiated an unsettling amusement.

Luke's eyes widened. He scrambled to his feet, mirroring the others who had already stood to show respect.

"Thank you for your kind words… General," Kayson said, his tone careful and deferential.

Hayden's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with amusement as if the formality itself was entertaining. "I look forward to hearing your thoughts during the strategy meetings," he said, his gaze lingering on Luke for an uncomfortable moment before he turned and strolled away.

As soon as Hayden was out of earshot, the group let out a collective sigh of relief.

"How can he be so nonchalant about all this?" Arthur muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "He's only a couple of years older than us."

"I heard he's been on the battlefield before," Kayson said, leaning in slightly.

"What? Why haven't we heard about him before?" Brian asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

"Have you heard of the Blood General?" Kayson's tone turned grave.

Everyone froze. The Blood General was a near-mythical figure—a ruthless warrior who had helped establish the Marxx Kingdom's borders through sheer brutality. His name alone was enough to send shivers down the spine.

"W-What's he got to do with the Blood General?" Arthur stammered, visibly paling.

Kayson glanced around the table, ensuring no one else was listening. "The Blood General, Pierre Hart, is Hayden's great-grandfather."

The revelation hit like a thunderclap. Luke's unease around Hayden suddenly made sense. There was something in the man's presence—a weight, a danger—that seemed almost instinctual.

Kayson continued, "The Hart family is infamous for their ruthlessness, even toward their own. They pit their children against each other and send them to the battlefield young. Skirmishes, raids—anything to harden them."

A heavy silence settled over the table as the group processed this information.

"I guess that explains why Master Gale made him General for this campaign," Luke said, breaking the silence. "It's probably a test for his graduation. If he does well, he'll likely be instated as a real General."

"Do you think we'll be okay?" Arthur asked, his voice tinged with worry, as if seeking reassurance from the others.

"I doubt they'd send us just to die," Kayson replied firmly. "It'll depend on how well we perform."

"He's right," Luke added, though his tone betrayed his own uncertainty. "Master Gale sees us as promising students. That's why he's sending us to the battlefield. If we survive, we'll come back stronger—and more experienced."

The words felt hollow, even to Luke, but he forced himself to believe them. He glanced down at his plate, still barely touched. His appetite hadn't returned.

"Can we get some ale?" Luke called out to a passing maid, catching her attention.

"I don't feel like drinking," Arthur muttered.

"Bullshit. You don't have a choice," Luke shot back, his tone only half-serious. They needed something to lighten the mood. A few drinks might be just what they needed.

"Does it have to be ale?" Kayson complained, his lips curling in distaste.

Luke smirked. "Sorry, brother, but I'm just a commoner. My taste buds aren't refined enough for anything better."

The jab earned a chuckle from around the table, easing the tension. Luke allowed himself a grin, glad his humor had worked.

Moments later, the maid returned, setting down large wooden mugs filled to the brim with ale. Luke grabbed his, raising it high above the table.

"We'll make a pact today, brothers," he declared. "All of us shall return from the campaign alive and well, to drink here together again."

He held his mug steady, waiting.

"Aye!" Kayson clanked his mug against Luke's with enough force to spill ale onto their plates. Instead of apologizing, he laughed, lightening the mood further.

"To victory," Brian added, his deep voice steady as he joined in.

Arthur hesitated but finally lifted his mug, mumbling something under his breath before clinking it with the others'.

"Drain your mugs! You won't have to worry about the taste that way," Luke said with a grin before tipping his own back. The ale wasn't half bad, certainly better than what he'd had in the city. But he knew the nobles at the table would disagree.

"BAH! What is this horse piss?" Kayson exclaimed after downing his mug, his face twisted in disgust.

Luke laughed. "Another round, please!" he called out to the maid.

For the first time since arriving in this world, Luke drank without worry. In the company of his fellow students, they laughed and talked, the looming battle forgotten for a time. No one interrupted them—whether out of sympathy or indifference, it didn't matter.

By the end of the evening, Luke, Kayson, Brian, and Arthur had cemented their bond, their shared fears and hopes tying them together.

The week that followed passed quickly. Soon, the streets of Clayton City were alive with the bustle of soldiers preparing for war. The tension in the air was palpable, seeping even into the Academy's walls. If it was this bad here, Luke could only imagine how the city itself felt.

Yet his mind was elsewhere. The question of who sent the assassins still lingered. Was it truly the Qin Empire? The two nations had been at peace for nearly a decade. Skirmishes over border disputes were one thing, but outright war didn't add up.

Luke's intuition burned, a familiar unease prickling at the back of his mind. For some reason, his thoughts drifted to Victoria—the deranged maid who had nearly killed him on the Academy grounds months ago.

Her words echoed faintly in his memory. She'd spoken of a conspiracy surrounding the death of Viscount Nero, who was officially said to have fallen in a skirmish with the Qin Empire. But she hadn't elaborated, leaving Luke with little to piece together. If only she'd revealed more, he might have something concrete to work with.

The mystery nagged at him, even as the seventh night since the war announcement arrived. That evening, Master Gale summoned Luke and his fellow students to a strategy meeting at the Academy's grand pavilion.

"You will stand to the side and remain silent unless addressed," Master Gale instructed, his voice weighted with authority. "If questioned, and you lack an answer, humble yourself before your superiors. Do not embarrass yourselves—or me."

The old man's demeanor had grown increasingly solemn of late. Since that fateful night, he had stopped calling Luke "Mr. Drakon" and had begun addressing him by his first name. It still felt strange to Luke, as though the change carried unspoken significance.

When they arrived at the pavilion, Luke took in the scene. Chairs encircled a sand table at the room's center, where miniature models of terrain and units had been meticulously arranged. Around the table sat Hayden, Master Boyle, and a few unfamiliar figures, all wearing grim expressions.

Hayden, however, seemed immune to the tension. He rose from his seat, his fan resting lightly against his chin, and greeted them with an almost unsettling enthusiasm.

"Welcome, Master Gale, and my fellow students," Hayden chirped, his tone jarringly bright against the room's somber atmosphere.

He gestured grandly with his fan toward the man on his left. "Allow me to introduce our esteemed guests. This," he said, his voice taking on a ceremonious air, "is Commander Tryst, who will serve as my deputy general during this campaign."

Luke's eyes shifted to the commander. The man's broad shoulders and flat, expressionless face exuded authority. He appeared to be in his early fifties, his weathered skin and lack of laugh lines betraying a life of discipline and duty.

The students cupped their fists and bowed in unison, showing respect.

Next, Hayden gestured to the man on his right. "And this is Minister Chao, who has come as the King's proxy to relay His Majesty's wishes."

Minister Chao was a stark contrast to the commander. Thin to the point of appearing sickly, his pale complexion seemed to glow faintly in the room's lantern light. Draped in fine garments and adorned with glittering jewelry, he exuded an air of detachment. The overpowering scent of lavender perfume followed him, clinging to the air and stinging the back of Luke's throat.

The students bowed again, their movements stiff but respectful, before taking their positions behind Masters Boyle and Gale.

Hayden's grin widened as he returned to his seat. "Shall we begin?" he asked, his tone brimming with anticipation.