Chapter 136: Point Farming on Transit
The military train arrived at dawn.
Team Soup boarded the train in silence.
Maeve claimed a window seat, watching the fading outpost. Renna sprawled out across two seats, already half-asleep. Emric sat upright, aggressively highlighting a tactical manual. Lyra sat across from him, watching the muddy landscape scroll past.
Holden’s private cabin was three doors down.
He stepped inside, locked the door, and sat on the cot. The train’s wheels clattered against the tracks, sending a steady, rumbling vibration humming through the floor.
He closed his eyes and pulled up his System.
[Instanced Dungeon]
[Status: Available]
[Spawn Type: Phantom Assassins (Human-Shaped Combatants)]
[Difficulty: Scaled to User Rank]
[Open Portal?]
Yes.
A shimmering crack appeared in the air beside his cot. It widened into a doorway of pale blue light, leading to a pocket dimension that existed outside of reality. On the other side, Holden could see a long, dark corridor lit by flickering torches.
He stood up and stepped through.
Twenty feet in, the first Phantom Assassin appeared out of the shadows.
It was roughly human in shape. Tall, lean, and wrapped in dark cloth that hid everything except its eyes. Those eyes glowed with a faint, white light, completely empty of any emotion. It moved with the balance and control of a trained fighter, but there was nothing alive inside it. It was a magic construct, basically just a lethal training dummy with a sword.
It drew a short sword and attacked.
Holden parried.
CLANG.
The impact hit hard. The Phantom’s strength was scaled to his rank, which meant it was hitting like a Rank 2 fighter. Not enough to threaten him, but enough to make him pay attention.
He countered with a quick slash across its midsection. The Phantom dissolved into wisps of blue light before the blade could connect, and a new notification chimed.
[Ding!]
[Phantom Assassin Defeated!]
[+400 KP]
[2x KP Booster Applied!]
[+800 KP!]
Two more Phantoms appeared at the end of the corridor. Then two more behind him. Then a pair dropping from the ceiling.
Holden smiled.
This was exactly what he needed.
The Capital gala wasn’t going to be a monster fight. It was going to happen in close quarters, against human enemies, from noble guards to armed mercenaries. He needed to practice against targets that moved like people, not beasts.
The next two hours were a blur of steel and blue light.
Holden fought through wave after wave of Phantom Assassins in the corridor. They dropped from the walls, crawled out of the ceiling, and appeared right behind him. Armed with everything from daggers to polearms, they kept him on the defensive. One wave even included Phantoms that threw small energy projectiles, forcing him to dodge while closing distance.
He tested everything.
He practiced Gale-Step in tight spaces, tested his Iron-Body against weapon strikes and pushed his 10,000x processor to track a swarm of attackers all at once.
The Phantoms were relentless. They attacked with mechanical precision, which made them perfect for drilling reactions and muscle memory.
SHLICK. Dissolve. Ding.
CLANG. Parry. Counter. Dissolve. Ding.
The notifications stacked up one after another.
[Ding!]
[+400 KP!]
[Ding!]
[+800 KP!]
[Ding!]
[+400 KP!]
By the time Holden stepped back through the portal and into his cabin, his shirt was damp with sweat and his arms ached pleasantly. Outside, the train rumbled past rolling green hills instead of the old marshland.
He checked his log.
[Total KP Gained: +11,000]
[Current Balance: 143,890]
He washed his face in the metal sink, changed into a clean shirt, and unlocked his cabin door.
The rest of the ride was quiet.
Lyra joined him in his cabin for lunch. They sat across from each other, poking at bland rations and deliberately avoiding any talk of the upcoming gala. Instead, they just chatted about nonsense. The weather. The terrible food. And how Renna had somehow already eaten three protein bars and was currently begging for a fourth.
But Lyra’s hand found his under the table, and her grip was tight.
Two days later, the Capital appeared on the horizon.
Holden had forgotten how massive it was.
The city rose from the plains like a mountain range made of glass and gold. Huge towers spiraled up into the clouds, their tips glowing with energy wards that painted the sky in soft blues and whites. Bridges made of crystal light connected the tallest spires, and the massive outer wall alone was bigger than the entire Demon-Mouth Outpost.
The train slowed as it approached the central station. Through the reinforced windows, Holden could see hundreds of people on the platforms. Officials. Merchants. Soldiers in dress uniforms.
And waiting at the end of their platform was a squad of guards in silver armor.
The train stopped with a hiss of pneumatic brakes.
Whoosh.
The doors slid open.
Team Soup stepped out onto the platform. Maeve held her bag close. Emric adjusted his glasses. Renna had her bow case slung over her shoulder, her hand resting on the clasp.
The silver-armored guards moved immediately.
Eight of them formed a tight ring around Team Soup before anyone could say a word. Their armor was polished to a blinding shine, carved with the silver cross of House Sterling. Their faces were totally blank, professional, and entirely hostile.
"Honor escort," one of them said flatly. "By order of House Sterling."
The captain of the squad stepped forward. He was taller than the rest, with a narrow face and a natural sneer. The fancy carvings on his silver armor showed he had rank, wealth, and an attitude problem.
He looked at Holden in disgust.
"Holden Voss," the captain drawled, tasting the name. "The slum rat who laid hands on a prince." He sneered. " Honestly, you’re smaller than I pictured. You look like a dead guy who’s just too stubborn to drop dead."
Renna’s hand moved toward her bow clasp.
Holden touched her shoulder, a quiet gesture telling her to hold back.
Renna’s jaw tightened, but her hand dropped.
Holden looked at the captain and gave him a friendly smile, acting as if the captain had just muttered something strange rather than a direct threat.
"Lead the way, captain," Holden said. "Your armor is very shiny."
The captain blinked. The response had clearly not been what he expected. He opened his mouth, closed it, then turned on his heel with a sharp clatter of armor.
"Move out," he barked.
The silver ring closed tighter around them and began marching toward the station exit. The crowd on the platform parted to let the Sterling guards through, with many people stopping to stare at the famous Team Soup being escorted like criminals.
Maeve stepped in right beside Holden, nervously eyeing the silver-armored guards. Emric walked ahead of him with a blank expression and a stiff posture. Renna was behind them, and Holden could practically hear her grinding her teeth.
Lyra walked close to him.
She grabbed his hand in plain view of the Sterling guards, lacing her fingers through his with a firm squeeze. Surrounded by her family’s colors and guards who wanted him dead, she made a quiet statement.
Without a word, she held his hand.
Holden squeezed back.
He let the silver-armored guards march them through the station, out into the bright Capital streets, past the gleaming towers and the staring crowds. He let the captain sneer. He let them play their game of intimidation and control.
Because underneath his shirt, the Sovereign’s Pendant pulsed warm against his chest.
And in the back of his mind, his 7-Star power hummed like a caged animal, waiting.
One wrong move from the guards, and Holden would flatten the whole squad in the blink of an eye, long before their captain could finish sneering.
But he didn’t.
Not yet.
He just held Lyra’s hand and walked.