The Sovereign System.

Luke watched as the citizens were herded into the large square. They were mostly the old, women, and children—likely because the men had been conscripted to man the walls in the absence of soldiers.

A child screamed for her father, one of the surrendered soldiers, while her mother held her back. The girl couldn't have been older than six, her tear-streaked face plastered with snot and wet hair.

Similar scenes unfolded across the square, amplifying the heavy, suffocating despair in the air. Luke wanted to look away, but he forced himself to keep watching. 'This is my doing,' he thought grimly. 'I have to remember this. I need to burn it into my memory to understand the consequences.'

It took another hour before both the citizens and the soldiers were gathered, encircled by the Marxx Kingdom's troops. Their fate now rested on the shoulders of the young General, who waved his fan idly, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Where is the commanding officer?" General Hayden Hart's voice rang across the square, sharp and commanding.

"I am in charge," a man replied, stepping forward from the group of soldiers. He was a burly figure, towering at least six and a half feet tall, with a long, wispy beard streaked gray with age. It was obvious he was far past his prime—another reminder that the Qin Empire had been unprepared for a siege.

Hayden gestured to his nearby soldiers, who grabbed the man by the arms and dragged him to the front. Despite his restrained hands, his sheer size made him an imposing sight, standing like a giant before the much smaller General.

The contrast between them was striking. It seemed absurd that someone of such stature could be at the mercy of a man half his size.

"What is your name?" Hayden asked, his tone almost conversational.

The older man hesitated before answering in a weary voice. "Wei Feng." His broad shoulders slumped, resignation etched into his expression. It was as though he already knew his fate and had come to terms with it.

"Wei Feng… I can't say I've heard of you," Hayden replied with a hint of indifference. Then, with a casual flick of his fan, he delivered his decree. "I will spare your soldiers and the civilians, but you must die—lest your men get any ideas."

The snap of his fan reverberated through the square, like the finality of a judge's gavel.

Wei Feng didn't flinch. He didn't resist or struggle. Instead, he turned to face his soldiers, his movements causing the guards holding him to tense up, ready to subdue him if necessary.

"Men, do not resist," Wei Feng said, his voice steady and calm. "I will head to Samsara first." A faint smile crossed his lips, as though he sought to comfort them despite the grim reality.

His soldiers cried out, their voices thick with anguish. The respect they held for the man was palpable, their sorrow cutting through the oppressive silence of the square.

Luke's breath caught as he saw Deputy General Tryst step forward, his massive sword in hand. The younger man stood as tall as Wei Feng, his frame stronger and more youthful.

Tryst raised his sword high, gripping it with both hands. The blade gleamed briefly in the light before he brought it down with brutal force onto the back of Wei Feng's neck.

The sound was grotesque—a wet, crunching noise that turned Luke's stomach. But the sight was worse. The blade didn't cleave through cleanly, stopping halfway, leaving a sickeningly jagged wound.

Wei's body collapsed forward with a sickening thud, the sound reverberating through the square. Blood spurted from the gaping wound in his neck, spraying the front row of enemy soldiers in warm, crimson arcs.

Luke's stomach churned violently, and his ears rang with the cries and wails echoing around him. It took every ounce of willpower to suppress the rising bile in his throat. A heavy hand on his shoulder pulled him out of his spiraling nausea.

"That was not a good death," Kayson said, his voice low and weary, his face pale with unease.

Luke turned to his friend, the familiar presence offering a sliver of comfort amid the chaos. But it was fleeting. Four soldiers struggled to drag Wei Feng's lifeless body across the blood-soaked ground, the metallic scent of fresh blood thick in the air.

"Where are they taking him?" Luke asked, his gaze fixed on the soldiers heading toward the fortress's northern side.

"Outside the north gate…" Kayson hesitated, his tone grim. "You'll understand when you see it."

The vagueness of his words and the somber look on his face filled Luke with a sense of foreboding. He wasn't sure he wanted to understand.

Hayden's voice rang out again, sharp and commanding, cutting through the din. "Soldiers, you are all now prisoners of war," he declared, his tone ice-cold. "Any of you who resist will share a similar fate to your predecessor."

His words were chilling, and the effect immediate—silence blanketed the square.

"Xiu Fortress is now under the control of the Marxx Kingdom once more," Hayden continued, raising his arms in a mock gesture of welcome. "Citizens, if you wish to denounce the Qin Empire and join our glorious Kingdom, we will welcome you with open arms."

The square remained eerily quiet, save for the muffled sobs of children and the murmurs of their mothers trying to calm them.

"Of course," Hayden added, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, "if you wish to remain loyal to your country, I will respect your wishes and let you leave this place."

Luke's body went rigid, his eyes widening in alarm. He scanned the crowd of citizens, their faces etched with uncertainty as they whispered among themselves.

'No! It's a trap…' The words formed in his mind but refused to leave his throat. He stepped forward instinctively, but Kayson's heavy hand restrained him.

"Is it true? You will let us leave?" An elderly woman's voice broke the silence. She rose slowly from the crowd, hope flickering in her tired eyes.

"Absolutely!" Hayden replied, his face lighting up with a dazzling smile. To an uninformed onlooker, he might have seemed sincere. But Luke knew better. 'Nothing good ever comes from that smile.'

"Thank you, my lord! Thank you," the old woman said, bowing repeatedly. She shuffled toward the edge of the square, her movements slow and deliberate.

The crowd held its breath as she approached the line of soldiers. Luke clenched his fists tightly, his heart pounding in his chest. 'Don't… please don't.'

The woman crossed the final few steps, but before she could pass the line, a soldier thrust his spear forward. The blade pierced clean through her stomach, her frail body crumpling instantly.

A collective gasp echoed through the square, followed by an eruption of hysteria.

"You told us we could leave!" a woman screamed, clutching her young son tightly to her chest. Her voice was raw, desperate, and filled with betrayal.

Others quickly joined her, their cries rising in a cacophony of anguish and anger, demanding answers, pleading for justice.

Luke stood frozen, his blood boiling beneath his skin. 'This… this is wrong. How can anyone be so cruel?'

Hayden merely grinned in response, waiting for the noise to die down. When it was clear they would not relent, he turned to Deputy General Tryst and made a gesture.

"SILENCE!" he roared, his deep voice drowning out all the rabble. Just his overpowering presence alone was enough to cow the masses. Of course, it could have had something to do with him executing their beloved leader earlier.

With the discourse now settled, Hayden addressed the civilians once more. "It seems you have misunderstood me, dear citizens. When I said leave this place, I meant the world of the living. I apologize if I wasn't clear."

At these words, there was only despair—not only in the civilians but also in Luke's heart. He realized now that this world was twisted, and there was nothing that could change it, at least while people like Hayden still existed.

'I don't want to live in a world like this…' Luke thought, his fists still clenched tightly. He missed Earth and would even settle for his previous lackluster life if he had to. At least he wouldn't have to watch such scenes.

That wasn't to say that atrocities didn't happen on Earth. But at least there, he could bury his head in the sand and act as if they didn't exist.

"Commander Drakon." A deep voice snapped him out of his reverie.

"Deputy General, sir, what can I do for you?" he responded after a brief lapse.

Tryst eyed him and Kayson for a moment before giving out his orders. "You are to take the cavalry to Valand City and request reinforcements to defend the Fortress. Commandeer any and all resources necessary to facilitate the reinforcement and return within ten days."

He reached into his robe pocket and procured a jade seal, handing it over to Luke, who wordlessly accepted it, his mind racing.

"Take the cavalry unit with you and show the City Lord this seal. He should comply," Tryst said, turning on his heel without another word.

"Y-Yes, Deputy General," Luke finally said, a little later than Kayson beside him.

"Let's go," Kayson said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It will take just under two days on horseback to reach the city, which doesn't leave us much time to rally troops and return."

Luke didn't respond, merely following behind his friend as they walked toward the southern gate. His heart was racing and his mind preoccupied, all because of his destination.

'I'm screwed… They're going to recognize me, and then I'll be exposed. They might even kill me.' Negative emotions swirled through his mind, threatening to shatter his psyche.

"Luke? What's wrong?" Kayson asked with concern, his voice softening. "Are you still reeling from the incident in the square?"

"Y-Yeah," Luke lied, knowing he could not tell Kayson the real reason. If he were to reveal that he was actually the son of Viscount Nero, the guy might never trust him again. It was best if he could keep it a secret for the rest of his life, however short it might be.

At the same time, he would need to march into Valand City wielding the Deputy General's seal. It had only been just over three months since the traitors killed his father, and while Luke had bulked up a little, there were few changes to his face.

'Damn it, if I could only grow a beard,' he thought, cursing his genetics.

It wasn't uncommon for riders to shield their faces from the wind with fabric, but he would have no excuse when it came time to meet the new City Lord. He would need to reveal his face at some point—unless he wore a veil, but those were generally meant for women.

"Lieutenant Commander, we have orders from the Deputy General," Kayson called out, causing Luke to stop in place. He saw the long-faced man stand to attention after hearing the official-sounding words.

Kayson turned to Luke, as if waiting for him to speak up.

"Right…" Luke said, letting out a small sigh. He shoved his worries to the back of his mind and focused on the present moment. He would have almost two days to think of a solution.

"We are to head to Valand City to secure reinforcements. Rally your unit; we will be leaving within the hour," Luke ordered, receiving an affirmation in response.

Once the orders were given, Luke's eyes darted around, searching for his mare. A few moments later, he found her grazing on some grass with the other horses nearby.

"There you are, girl," he said with a smile, reaching forward and patting her large head. A sense of calm washed over him—a feeling he hadn't experienced in a while—as he bonded with his horse after some time apart. She nuzzled his hand, reciprocating his fondness.

"You sure love that horse," Kayson stated, letting out a small laugh.

"She's growing on me."

A silence drifted between them as Luke preoccupied himself with the mare, choosing to push his concerns aside for the moment.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" Kayson asked.

Luke turned to the man, realizing there was no dodging him. His handsome face and chiseled jaw, which Luke usually found infuriating, suddenly felt dependable—and trustworthy.

Letting out a troubled sigh, Luke patted his mare a few more times, debating how to respond. His conscience urged him to spill the truth, but fear held him back.

"What if I told you I'm not a commoner?" he asked, his eyes locking onto Kayson's face to gauge his reaction.