I am just an NPC ,but I rewrite the story-Chapter 35 - []

"Rude," I said, rubbing the top of my head where the crossbow bolt had shaved off a few hairs.

"Get down!" Kaelen roared, grabbing the back of my tunic and hauling me behind a stack of rotting crates just as a volley of null-iron bolts turned the wood into splinters.

"We can’t stay here!" Lysandra shouted over the noise. She was kneeling beside us, her silver armor streaked with alley mud and river slime. Her cape was gone, likely torn off in the melee. "They have the high ground and numbers. We are tactically compromised."

"Fancy way of saying we’re dead," Kaelen grunted. He peeked over the crate, deflected a bolt with his sword, and ducked back down. "Ren, you got a plan? You seem to know everything else."

I clutched the heavy Covenant spear I’d scavenged. My hands were shaking. I was Level 1. If I took a direct hit, I wouldn’t just lose HP; I’d die. Realistically, painfully die.

"We need cover," I said, my eyes darting around the alley. "Smoke. Dust. Anything to break their line of sight."

"I used my flash spell," Lysandra said, checking her mana reserves. "I need time to recharge."

I looked at the building behind us. It was the back entrance to a bakery. The smell of yeast and flour wafted out.

"Tybalt would love this," I muttered.

"Who?" Kaelen asked.

"Never mind. Cover your faces!"

I used the butt of the spear to smash the window of the bakery. I didn’t climb in. I reached in, grabbed a fifty-pound sack of flour sitting on the prep table, and dragged it to the window sill.

"Marek!" I shouted over the crates.

The Inquisitor held up a hand, signaling his archers to hold fire. He stepped forward, smirking. "Ready to surrender, farmhand?"

"I have a counter-offer," I yelled.

I stabbed the flour sack with the spear tip and kicked it hard.

The sack exploded. A massive white cloud billowed out into the alley, caught by the wind coming off the river. It engulfed us, the crates, and the front line of the Covenant soldiers.

"Now!" I coughed, pulling my shirt over my nose. "Run!"

We sprinted blindly through the whiteout. The soldiers were coughing and cursing, firing wildly into the fog. A bolt whizzed past my ear, but the flour hung heavy in the air, ruining their aim.

"Left!" Kaelen ordered, taking point. He knew the city better than I did in this timeline.

We scrambled over a wooden fence, landing in a muddy pig pen. We didn’t stop. We vaulted the next fence, cut through a clothesline (Lysandra got tangled in a bedsheet for a second, ripping it free with a growl), and finally crashed through the rotting door of an abandoned water mill on the edge of town.

Kaelen kicked the door shut and shoved a heavy, rusted grinding stone in front of it.

"Safe," he wheezed, sliding down the wall. "For now."

The mill was dark, smelling of mold and stagnant water. The giant water wheel outside creaked rhythmically, masking the sound of our breathing.

I collapsed onto a pile of straw, my lungs burning. "That... was... intense."

"Intense?" Lysandra stood in the center of the room, her sword still drawn. The tip was wavering slightly. She stared at Kaelen.

"You," she said. Her voice was cold, sharp as glass. "You are the Dark Wolf. The Butcher of the East."

Kaelen looked up. He didn’t defend himself. He just looked tired. "That’s what they call me."

"I should kill you," Lysandra said. She took a step forward. "Right now. While you’re tired. I swore an oath to purge the Darkness."

"Then do it," Kaelen said softly. He let go of his sword hilt. He spread his arms. "I’m tired of running, Luce."

Luce.

The nickname hit her like a physical blow. Her sword tip dropped an inch.

"Don’t call me that," she whispered. "That name belongs to a friend I had at the Academy. Not a mercenary."

"I’m the same person," Kaelen said. "I just... fell behind."

"Stop it," I interrupted, struggling to my feet. "Both of you. Put the swords away. If you kill each other, Marek wins. Valen wins."

Lysandra whipped her head toward me. "Who are you? Really? You dress like a peasant, you fight with flour, and you know things you shouldn’t. You knew about the Void Seed. You knew my name."

"I’m Ren," I said, leaning against a support beam. "I’m a... strategist. A freelancer."

"A spy?" she accused.

"If I were a spy, I would have let the bomb go off," I pointed out. "Look, Lysandra. You saw the Covenant tonight. They didn’t care about the town. They wanted the weapon. They attacked you, the Knight Commander. Does that sound like allies?"

Lysandra lowered her sword slowly. The adrenaline was fading, replaced by the crushing weight of reality.

"Marek..." she murmured. "He ordered his men to fire on me. He called me compromised."

"Because you hesitated," I said. "The Covenant doesn’t want justice. They want control. And anyone who questions them—even a Royal Paladin—is a threat."

She sheathed her rapier with a sharp click. She walked over to a broken window and looked out at the lights of the town.

"The King granted them emergency powers," she said quietly. "He said it was necessary to stop the rebellion. To stop people like Kaelen."

"The King is sick," I said, remembering the last timeline. "Or controlled. Valen is the one pulling the strings. He’s using the war to consolidate power."

"Valen," Kaelen grunted. "The High Inquisitor. I’ve seen him. Once. From a distance. He feels... wrong. Like he doesn’t belong in this world."

"He doesn’t," I said.

They both looked at me.

"What does that mean?" Kaelen asked.

"It means," I said, tapping the pocket where the ID card sat, "that we have a common enemy. And right now, we are the only three people in this city who know the truth."

"Three?" Lysandra turned back. "You and a wanted criminal? And me, a disgraced Knight? We are hardly an army."

"We’re a party," I said. "A start of one, anyway. But we need more. We need a way out of the city, and we need resources."

"The gates are sealed," Kaelen said. "Marek will have the walls lined with archers. We can’t walk out."

"We don’t walk," I said. "We go underground. Not the sewers this time. The trade routes."

"The Black Market?" Lysandra wrinkled her nose. "I do not deal with criminals."

"You’re a fugitive now, Luce," Kaelen said, a hint of his old smirk returning. "Criminals are your new best friends."

"I know who runs the underground in Oakhaven," Kaelen continued, looking at me. "The Shadow Guild. They have tunnels that bypass the walls."

"The Shadow Guild," I repeated. In the original timeline, Ria was a freelance rogue. But in this timeline, if she didn’t go to the Academy...

"Who runs the Guild here?" I asked.

"A woman," Kaelen said. "Goes by the name ’Red’. She’s crazy. Obsessed with money and knives. But she hates the Covenant."

I smiled. "Red. I think I know her." 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

"You know the Guildmaster of the thieves?" Lysandra asked, horrified.

"I think she owes me a favor," I said. "Or at least, she would have, in another life."

"You talk in riddles, farmhand," Lysandra sighed. She slid down the wall, sitting opposite Kaelen. She kept her hand near her sword, but the aggression was gone.

"We rest for an hour," Kaelen said, taking charge of the tactical situation. "Then we move to the Slums. The Guild operates out of a butcher shop on Tanner Street."

"A butcher shop?" Tybalt would faint.

"Okay," I said. "One hour."

The silence in the mill was heavy. Kaelen and Lysandra avoided looking at each other. The history between them—the friendship that broke, the rivalry that festered for four years—was a thick wall of ice.

I sat between them, breaking a piece of stale bread I still had in my bag.

"Want some?" I offered Lysandra.

She looked at the crusty bread. "I ate royal venison this morning."

"Well, now you’re eating crusts," I said. "Welcome to the resistance."

She hesitated, then took a piece. She ate it slowly, grimacing at the texture.

"It’s... distinct," she said politely.

Kaelen snorted. It was the first genuine sound of amusement I’d heard from him in this timeline.

"Distinct," Kaelen chuckled. "That’s one word for it."

Lysandra glared at him, but there was no heat in it.

"So," I said, trying to bridge the gap. "Kaelen. That sword on your back. Why is it wrapped in bandages?"

Kaelen touched the hilt over his shoulder.

"Because it scares people," he said quietly. "It’s not a normal blade. I found it in a ruin in the North, three years ago. It... whispers."

The Prototype. It survived the reset. Or rather, the system placed it in the world for him to find because it’s his signature weapon.

"Does it whisper, or does it hum?" I asked.

"It hums," Kaelen said, eyeing me. "How did you know?"

"Just a guess," I said. "Maybe you should unwrap it. It might be useful against Marek."

"If I unwrap it," Kaelen said darkly, "people die. It drinks mana. It drinks blood."

"We might need a drinker," Lysandra said, surprisingly. "Marek is wearing Null-Iron. Standard magic won’t touch him. We need brute force."

"We need a team," I corrected. "We have the Tank and the Paladin. We’re going to get the Rogue. Then we find the Mage and the Support."

"Mage?" Kaelen asked. "You mean Cian? The kid who blew up the alchemy lab in first year?"

"Wait," I blinked. "Cian went to the Academy in this timeline?"

"He was expelled," Lysandra said. "For unauthorized experiments with gravity. He’s currently... I believe he is in prison. In the Iron Hold."

"Prison," I rubbed my face. "Of course. And Tybalt?"

"The baker’s son?" Kaelen asked. "I think he runs a shop in the Capital. Why?"

"We need them," I said. "All of them."

"You want to break into the Iron Hold to rescue a failed student, and then kidnap a baker?" Lysandra asked, looking at me like I was insane.

"Yes," I said. "Because they’re not failed students. They’re the only people who can help us fix the sky."

"The sky again," Kaelen muttered. "Ren, the sky is fine."

"For now," I said ominously.

I stood up.

"Let’s go find Red. I have a feeling she’s going to charge us a fortune for the exit."

We moved out. The three of us—a fractured trio of lost souls—slipped into the night.

The War of Shadows was just beginning. And I was determined to speedrun the recruitment phase.

[Current Party: Ren (Lvl 1), Kaelen (Lvl 45), Lysandra (Lvl 55)]

[Next Objective: Recruit ’Red’ (Ria).]

"By the way," Lysandra whispered to me as we crept through the shadows. "If this ’Red’ tries to stab me, I will arrest her."

"If she tries to stab you," I whispered back, "it means she likes you."