Chương 290: War Table

Bartholomew crossed the hall with deliberate steps, the sound of his boots reverberating off the stone floor. As soon as he passed the threshold, the massive doors slammed shut behind him with a metallic echo that rolled across the room. The air smelled of old wood and iron; torches fixed to the walls threw wavering light over tense faces. No one in that hall truly trusted anyone else. The truce was a paper mask stretched thin over a blade. Eyes cut across the table like drawn knives.

Luke felt Kruger's stare pinning him, cold and unreadable. The assassin didn't move, didn't speak. The king of Bastion moved closer to Allison. His silver crown caught the torchlight and broke it into pale streaks across his face. When he spoke, his voice came deep and smooth, wrapped in a respect that felt rehearsed rather than real.

"First of all, I want to make it clear I had nothing to do with the attack you suffered a few nights ago," Bartholomew said.

"Lady Rhiannon, I hope you can believe my words." Allison kept her expression neutral, hands resting on the oak table.

"Let's not pretend," she answered evenly.

"We're past the masks. Everyone here knows you have no intention of finishing the tutorial." Luke stepped forward, his voice like a blade.

"And you made sure to wipe out anyone who might try. Including Angelica." Up close, Bartholomew's practiced smile made Luke's blood run hotter. Ronan cleared his throat, trying to break the tension.

"I know everyone here has their differences, but we need to set some of them aside and actually talk." Mason leaned forward for the first time.

"The rule was clear: no weapons out of inventory. But he's wearing the crown." Bartholomew let out a low, almost amused breath.

"I'm not stupid enough to take it off. I'm just a humble healer. The crown is my only defense." Silence settled over the table again. Torchlight threw long shadows on the walls, like specters watching from the edges.

"It's fine," Allison said at last.

"I can cast magic without a wand or any other item. In the end it's the same thing. We all know it wouldn't take a heartbeat for everyone to draw their weapons if it came to that." She pulled out a chair and sat, a deliberate move to signal openness to dialogue. One by one, the others followed, settling into their places. On one side sat the key members of Haven; on the other, Bastion's representatives. Between them stretched a gulf of silence filled only by the faint moan of wind against the windows.

Ronan glanced from face to face, visibly uncomfortable, waiting for someone to speak first. Finally, he raised his voice.

"Let me start by saying I'm neutral here. The last few days in Bastion have been… complicated. I'm not taking sides. I'll let you two lay out your positions." Allison laced her fingers on the table.

"It's simple. We want to return to Earth. Bartholomew wants to stay in this world. And to achieve that, he'll stop anyone from reaching the goal." Bartholomew's smile turned sharper.

"And tell me, how exactly do you think you'll handle the tutorial's final challenge?"

"The same way we killed the Orc Lord and took the fortress," Allison shot back.

"Through cooperation and unity."

"And how many losses did you suffer?" His voice had gone flat, probing.

"A few," she admitted without flinching.

"Death happens. But it could've been avoided. We were forced to take on impossible tasks without a single healer, with low-level people. Imagine what we could've done with Bastion's strength behind us." Bartholomew narrowed his eyes but said nothing. His silence spoke louder than any reply.

"Fools," he muttered at last.

"You're blinded by hope."

"And you're blind from losing," Allison shot back, her voice steady. His fists tightened on the table.

"Tell me how you plan to move almost two thousand people out of the Safe Zone, across the Wild Zone and the Capital, all the way to the castle." They had rehearsed that answer days ago. No point hiding it now. Allison leaned forward, her tone calm but deliberate.

"Wooden boats down the river cutting through the Wild Zone to the Capital's edge. After that, there's another river. The rest I can't say." Bartholomew exhaled, slow and heavy.

"If you activate the third mechanism, you doom everyone. The Safe Zones will stop functioning and an army of Midnight Wardens will come to slaughter us." Allison let the silence stretch just long enough for his words to hang in the air. When she spoke again, her gaze moved not just to him but to Ronan as well.

"What do you think the mechanism fortress is for? What do you think the invasion events are about?"

"What are you saying?" Ronan's brow furrowed. He understood armies and tactics but not the secrets behind the mechanisms. In the days they had studied Bastion, Allison's group had noticed that. Outside of Bartholomew and a few loyalists, practically everyone in Bastion wanted to go home. The faction's power rested on that hope and on the King's skill to hide the truth. A voice cut through the hall before Allison could continue.

"Training." Every head turned. Out of the shadows between the columns stepped a tall, lean figure. Evangeline emerged from the dim light with measured steps, her eyes steady. Her presence shifted the room; even the torches seemed to burn quieter. Bartholomew went pale, as though he had seen a ghost.

"S-so it's true… you're alive."

"Hello, Bart." Evangeline walked to the table and took a seat at the far end, unhurried.

"I'm truly glad to see you again, Evie," he said, trying to regain his composure. She ignored the cordial tone.

"Really? Last time you tried to kill me." He held her gaze without blinking.

"Back then I had to. It was me against Marshall and his group. They would have beaten me and dragged everyone into a suicide mission. I had to cut out anyone who might oppose me. You were an unknown, but you clearly wouldn't change your mind about going back to Earth. So, unfortunately, I acted." This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Before the tension could snap further, Ronan broke in.

"What do you mean by training?" Evangeline leaned back, voice low but unwavering.

"Eight years here, through good days and hellish ones, taught me what the fortresses really are. They're training grounds for invasion, siege, and control. The final challenge of the tutorial will trigger automatically when we do what?" She threw the question to the table.

"Activate the third mechanism," Ronan answered instantly.

"Exactly. And the mechanism sits in the third and last fortress. Don't you see? An army will descend on whoever activates the mechanisms. And where will those activators be?"

"In the fortress…" one of Bartholomew's men muttered. Allison set her hands flat on the table, voice steady.

"Right. The final challenge is a full-scale invasion. We'll have to survive inside the third fortress while the enemy comes for blood. If we survive, the path to the castle opens. We'll pack everyone inside the fortress, reinforce the walls, lay traps, forge weapons, brew potions, stockpile resources, and then we trigger the mechanism." She drew in a slow breath, eyes flashing with determination.

"When they come, we'll be ready. It won't be our all-in. It'll be theirs. After we crush the last wave, we march to the castle with an army of survivors and finish this tutorial. No more running." Ronan ran a hand across his forehead, a short laugh slipping out.

"You're insane… but it's a good plan." Bartholomew slammed his palm on the table, the sharp crack ricocheting through the hall.

"That's it? That's the big plan? And if you fail? Did you forget the consequences? The Safe Zones will collapse. You really think you can handle the final event? You saw what was in that fortress. Imagine what's coming next. And you call this a plan?" Luke held his gaze, voice level.

"It's what we're doing." Bartholomew's hands curled into fists.

"Then be ready for the consequences!"

"Feel free to join that bastard Paul. I haven't forgotten what you did to Angelica," Luke shot back. Kruger turned his head toward him. The air thickened. Ronan motioned for calm, but Luke didn't stop. He knew Bastion's soldiers from the inside. He knew who actually wanted to go home.

"You think your troops will fight us once we trigger the third mechanism?" His tone mixed truth and bluff, pushing at the king's composure.

"You're the one on the back foot." Allison picked up the thread.

"Keep waging your quiet war, but with one mechanism activated and enough resources to keep going, you don't hold all the cards anymore. Your army of healers sticks with you because you promised them a way home, didn't you?" Bartholomew drew a slow breath but said nothing. Allison's voice stayed calm and precise.

"Ninety-nine percent of your faction is with you for a roof, food, safety, and the promise of a mechanism. But now… we have all of that." Bartholomew's mouth tilted in a half-smile.

"Looks like I've lost, then."

"We'll make sure everyone hears what you've done behind the curtain," Mason added.

"I disagree," Ronan cut in. All eyes swung to him. He inhaled, steadying himself.

"Like it or not, civilians and soldiers alike hold together because Bartholomew is the glue. If they find out they've been lied to for eight years… I don't know if there'll be anything left to hold. It's obvious you're gaining the advantage and will have more support in the long run. But if we make this public now, we could shatter the last threads of order." His gaze shifted back to Bartholomew.

"The truth he won't admit is that he's afraid." Bartholomew let out a short laugh and shook his head.

"Stop talking nonsense."

"I've known you five years," Ronan went on.

"Maybe you fooled me at times, but I chose to believe because I valued order. To me, you're still a friend." He looked back at the others.

"I swear I don't want to slow you down or attack you. In fact, as you said, more people want to stand with you than against you. But keep Bartholomew's true intentions quiet, for everyone's sake. If you do, I'll help however you need. The entire Safe Zone will be at your disposal." Luke narrowed his eyes.

"And those two are just going to nod along and not slit our throats the moment we turn our backs?" The urge to end both of them right there was almost tangible, but he held it in. Allison's plan hinged on keeping Ronan on their side.

"I want to make a deal," Bartholomew said at last, breaking the silence.

"A deal?" Allison's tone was edged with distrust. Evangeline folded her arms, watching.

"As Ronan said. I won't attack your fortress or send assassins. In return, I don't want to be lynched or executed. Each of us goes our own way and leaves the past behind. You've already sown the seed of hope—there's nothing left for me to do. You head for the third fortress, and I'll go my way." Evangeline let out a dry laugh.

"Just like that, Bart? This sounds so forced it's practically dripping with lies. You wanted us all dead minutes ago." Bartholomew's smile was ice-cold.

"Please. I still want to stop you. But these last few days have shown me I'm in check. The board still has plenty of pieces, though." Allison narrowed her eyes.

"What are you getting at?"

"It's simple. From now on I won't lift a finger to hinder you or to help. I'll just watch. You really think you'll survive beyond the barrier? You'll deal with that giant serpent and then the third fortress, which makes the second look like a warm-up. Maybe the Midnight Lord himself will be waiting." Mason drew in a slow breath.

"I get it. He doesn't care if we move forward. He's banking on us dying to whatever's next."

"Exactly, Lord Mason," Bartholomew said, almost amused.

"If you die, I don't need to do a thing. I'll still gain a second Safe Zone and have a living example for everyone: trying to return to Earth is suicide." He rose now, his expression sharpening, Kruger standing in unison.

"Good luck. Not that I'm rooting for you." Then he turned and walked toward the door. The heavy slabs shut behind them. When the doors closed on Bartholomew and Kruger, the hall sank into a leaden silence. The torches hissed against the stone, throwing unsteady shadows across strained faces. For a long heartbeat, no one dared speak. Eleanor broke first, restless.

"Now what? Shouldn't we at least have said we accept the deal?" Ronan leaned on his elbows, dragging a hand down his face before answering.

"There's not much he can do. Half of Bastion's been celebrating for days at the thought of going home. Even if he kills us here, so what? He'd have to kill the entire Safe Zone. It's over for him. The mechanism's activation gave everyone hope; that fire can't be put out." The Haven group exchanged discreet glances, careful not to reveal too much in front of Ronan. Beneath the tension, though, ran a current of expectation.

"You may not trust me, and that's fine," Ronan went on.

"But if you'll allow it, there are people waiting to speak with you." He rose and crossed to the door. The wood groaned as it swung open. Beyond it, a small crowd stood under the hallway's light, faces bright with anticipation.

"You can come in," Ronan called. About fifteen people hurried through the doorway, carrying papers, tools, and sheer hope. Their voices clashed in an eager chorus.

"Lady Rhiannon!" one man shouted, clipboard in hand.

"Lady Allison Rhiannon!" cried another, his arms full of documents.

"Lady Rhiannon!" a third insisted.

"I'm an experienced blacksmith, I can help with your plans!"

"I'm a fisherman, there's a river, right? We can work together!"

"I'm a high-level builder, almost level 39. What can I do to help you get back to Earth?"

"Nonsense! I'm a level 48 blacksmith, I can forge weapons and armor to strengthen your army!" The voices swelled, overlapping, each desperate to be heard. The hall filled with a raw, electric energy, as if a tide of hope had rushed into the space where tension once ruled. Allison rose abruptly, her voice cutting through the noise like a blade.

"Calm down!" The hall went quiet almost instantly. Authority rang in her tone. For a moment she studied their anxious faces. In them she saw the flame she had been trying to spark in Bastion for days, burning now on its own.

"May I ask something first?" she said, scanning the group.

"Of course!" someone replied, still breathless with excitement. Allison tilted her head slightly.

"How many out there are as eager as you?"