Bradley raised his hand and gave Ruby a flick on the forehead. Ruby pouted, clutching her head and whining, “But I meant it! Love is love. Can’t we call it what it is?”
“Time for the exit ceremony—let’s send Ruby out of the guild!” Bradley roared, and the others immediately joined in the teasing, shouting, “Farewell, Dick Fan!”
“Meanies!” Ruby playfully covered her mouth, eyes sparkling with mischief.
Orson looked around at the group. Many of the core members were unfamiliar faces, so he took a moment to introduce himself to everyone. Even within the guild, only a few members had frequent opportunities to meet him.
“You’ve all worked hard these past days. Such attacks will only increase, not decrease,” Orson said with a smile, nodding in acknowledgment. Then he continued, “Members who meet the combat power requirements can submit their pledge contracts to reserve new legendary gear.”
“New gear!?”
The group was stunned. Iron Cavalry, the “loot king,” reacted the fastest. “Me! Me! Sign me up!”
“Your pledge contract is still on cooldown—invalid!” Bradley snapped at him. “Do you think the guild is your personal ATM?”
“Orson, what legendary gear are you talking about? Even if we just cleared out a batch of unwanted gear and skill books, we can’t sustain this kind of spending,” Bradley said, pulling Orson aside.
The ongoing plans with Nightshade were already exceeding budget expectations, practically draining the gold coins they’d earned from selling base locations. Now Orson was talking about distributing legendary gear—it seemed reckless.
“Running low on funds is indeed an issue, but we can’t halt progress on combat power,” Orson replied with a small smile. He then turned to the guild channel and made an announcement:
“UJ server players have dared to tread on our land. Are we going to tolerate this?”
Absolute Kid: “Hell no! Let’s crush those brats and smash their eggs!”
Heartbroken Loli: “Ooh, such passion, such violence. I love it! Absolute Kid, you’re so awesome!”
Old Yin: “Tolerate? My foot!”
Ride Donkey: “Next time, if they don’t run fast enough, I’m taking them alive—bound and gagged!”
Madman: “Kindred spirit! Whips, candles, and wax—they should all experience what we have to offer. Finally found someone on my wavelength!”
…
Within seconds, the guild channel devolved into a heated debate about which types of UJ server girls were the easiest to conquer. Orson facepalmed, momentarily speechless.
“Enough chatter!” Madman interrupted the banter with a dose of reality. “The data speaks for itself. Whether it’s UJ server players or SSR guild pros, none of them are pushovers.”
Iron Cavalry: “Not pushovers? Then explain why they keep suicide-running away!”
Absolute Kid: “Exactly. A bunch of cowards, that’s all. Madman, don’t tell me you’re scared?”
Madman’s comment didn’t sit well with the crowd. After all, he and his team of assassins hadn’t participated in the last skirmish, so who knew what he’d been up to?
“Quiet. Let Madman finish,” Orson interrupted.
Madman wasn’t the type to back down, and if anyone had a grudge against UJ players, it was him. His family circumstances had fueled a deep-seated hatred that made him want to grind the UJ players to dust.
Madman continued, “In less than an hour of fighting, we’ve lost 17 pieces of Level 20–30 purple gear, 2 legendary items, and 2,740 gold coins.”
Bradley and the others were stunned. The losses were staggering.
“And our gains?” Madman asked. “A handful of Level 30 purple items. Most of our core members encountered players who used Imperial Decree of Judgment, denying us any drops.”
The room fell silent. Everyone remembered the nauseating scene from earlier: UJ players using their self-destruct skill to avoid dropping loot.
This only inflicted an experience penalty, which the UJ players could quickly grind back. Worse, they had disgusting tools like Enslave Runes to repeatedly resurrect and kill targets for loot and XP.
“Don’t follow Money Traveler’s reckless charge! If we keep this up, we’ll bankrupt ourselves!” Madman warned.
Bradley: “You’re making it sound like I was the one who got killed!”
Madman: “You weren’t killed, but do you know we lost over 50 life-skill players at the Ziyun mining site? Do you have shadow clones to cover it all?”
Bradley turned red with anger but couldn’t refute it. He had been doing his best to respond quickly, but the enemy had overwhelming numbers.
Seeing the argument escalate, Orson intervened, “No need to fight over something trivial. Losing gear is a serious issue, though.”
The tension eased, but everyone looked troubled. Bradley and Absolute Kid were as strong as the top players from UJ, but only in direct confrontations.
The UJ players, however, used guerrilla tactics: hit-and-run strikes that targeted weaker players, then fled before they could be pursued. Apart from Orson, no one could catch them.
“We can’t just let them run wild, Orson,” Bradley said with a frown.
“This is just small-scale harassment. Their goal is to undermine us mentally. The time for a full-scale confrontation hasn’t arrived yet,” Orson replied thoughtfully. Then, with a sly grin, he added, “There’s a simple way to avoid losing gear and gold: aside from squad captains, all core members should switch to high-level blue gear and store all their gold in the guild vault. Fill your bags with junk items.”
“That’s genius! We have a ton of blue gear in the warehouse, and junk items will lower the chance of gear drops!”
The group quickly saw the merit in the plan. The guild’s warehouse held over 5,000 pieces of Level 20–35 blue gear. Much of it was leftovers from Madman’s sales, and the stash was only so big thanks to Orson’s relentless farming and Bradley’s dungeon-grinding efforts.
“But what if we can’t win while wearing blue gear?” Ride Donkey asked sheepishly, scratching his head.
“Practice more, noob!” the group shouted in unison, their disdainful glares piercing through him.
Orson’s plan wasn’t just about reducing losses—it was about teaching them valuable skills. Field battles in Infinite Dimensions were nothing like base wars.
Base wars were about numbers and coordination, with players following commands to unleash skills en masse. Field battles, however, demanded adaptability:
Utilizing terrain advantages. Timing attacks precisely. Tracking enemy cooldowns. Comparing relative combat stats.
Orson hoped to toughen up the guild members by forcing them to fight under less-than-ideal conditions. This preparation was vital for future trials, where they might face overwhelming disadvantages or outright annihilation.
Once everything was set, Orson donned a disguise and set off for Pondenorlin City. His long-awaited shipment had finally arrived!
But as he reached the city’s main street, something felt off. The blacksmith shop’s door was locked tight.
“Where’s my personal blacksmith?” Orson muttered, his scalp tingling. Had the gray dwarf swindled him and fled?
The main street was filled with NPCs hurriedly fleeing with their families.
“Wait! You still owe me some buffed beast meat!” shouted Paradise Path, chasing after a fleeing NPC.
“This is absurd! My enchanted gear isn’t finished yet!” grumbled King of Kings. “Are the NPCs running some kind of scam now?”
“What’s going on? NPCs are all running away!” Orson muttered, puzzled.
Among the fleeing crowd, he spotted a familiar dwarf clutching a ragged bag.
“You’re not running off with my goods!” Orson stormed forward, grabbing Veijander by the shoulder.
Before the dwarf could reply, a district-wide announcement appeared:
“Due to Pondenorlin’s lord, Cain, declaring war on the Godslayer guild, over 50% of the city’s NPCs will cease offering services to players for the next five days.”