The little figure darted back and forth, displaying a short-range teleportation ability.
In moments, the treasure left in the ruins below had been swept clean by Berenice, who was far faster at looting than Orson could ever hope to be.
“Report, servant! I’ve found a treasure vault—big, shiny, and full of loot!” Berenice chirped excitedly.
“What are you standing around for? Move it!” Orson snapped, his heart racing as he noticed what Berenice had uncovered.
Among the ruins of the Holy Light Order’s stronghold lay an underground vault. Magical energy swirled around its entrance, protected by a powerful barrier.
But for Berenice, this was no obstacle. Streams of light flashed back and forth as the little thief hauled treasure chests out of the vault like a conveyor belt.
“You are plundering the Holy Light Order’s vault.”
“WTF! I knew these guys were loaded! This is practically a miniature dragon hoard!” Orson’s eyes sparkled green with greed.
The wealth of the Radiant Church was legendary, and as one of its core institutions, the Holy Light Order was no exception.
“There’s too much! I can’t carry it all—I’m so happy!” Berenice giggled, hopping around the ruins with delight.
“Am I seeing things? Is that an egg… talking? And is it robbing an NPC vault?”
“That’s Orgod’s dragon egg! This is insane—he’s robbing an imperial NPC organization!”
The flying mounts hovering nearby were filled with disbelief and envy, their riders gawking at the scene below.
“You have obtained: Silver Chest x5!”
“You have obtained: Gold Chest x5!”
“You have obtained: 50,000 Gold Coins!”
In addition to the dozen treasure chests crammed into his inventory, Orson’s haul included three legendary items, nine epic items, and twelve skill books—all of which put grinding mobs to shame.
“You are being watched by [Saint Light Dragon Knight Aetrexa].”
The sudden notification sent a chill down Orson’s spine. A suffocating pressure locked onto him, making his hair stand on end.
Aetrexa. One of the top ten dragon knights in Infinite Dimensions.
Orson felt a shiver run through him. This was no ordinary NPC. Aetrexa was renowned not only for her incredible strength but also for her unwavering loyalty to the trialists’ cause during the apocalyptic war.
He had seen her once before at the ruins of Baiguo City. Mounted on a high-ranking holy dragon rivaling the power of the Radiant Dragon King, she had led a group of trialists to the frontlines.
Her grace and strength had inspired countless players. But her tragic end, falling victim to an internal betrayal within the Radiant Church, was equally well-known.
“What’s she doing in Saint Maiden City? Isn’t she supposed to appear only in the late game?”
The oppressive force washing over him wasn’t something an average player could feel—it was the weight of an apex being bearing down on an inferior. If she so desired, Aetrexa could erase him with a thought.
“You are testing Aetrexa’s patience.”
“For unknown reasons, she has not attacked you yet.”
“Your mount: Travel Companion No. 1 is attempting to breach the Battle Space.”
The system notifications continued, and Orson’s face darkened as he noticed the Crimson Lizard King icon in his interface trembling violently.
The beast’s overwhelming anger surged like a tide, struggling against the spatial restrictions.
The Crimson Lizard King’s fury toward all dragons was no secret to Orson, but this time it was different. The rage was so intense it felt like the beast wanted to rip the dragon knight apart.
“Stop stealing—time to run!” Orson broke into a cold sweat, grabbing Berenice mid-heist and activating his Divine Emperor Earrings.
In an instant, they teleported to the city’s outskirts, just moments before the NPCs of Saint Maiden City arrived en masse.
“Damn it, that psycho NPC messed up my archaeology session.” Orson grumbled as he glanced back at the city.
There were still plenty of treasures left in the vault—enough to cost him several “small targets.” He marked the location on his map with a gold icon.
“Next time,” he muttered. Treasure was only valuable if you lived to spend it, and dealing with NPCs of this caliber required extreme caution.
“Heretic, prepare to die!”
A furious shout erupted as the angel-empowered NPCs tracked him down, launching a barrage of holy arrows. Orson remained calm, summoning the Crimson Lizard King to shield him.
The beast let out a deafening roar, spreading its wings to block the onslaught of projectiles.
Orson glanced back with a faint smirk. Only ten seconds remained on their Angel’s Blessing buff. These NPCs, convinced he was fleeing in fear, had no idea he had already looted their leader’s base.
“Orgod! That’s Orgod! He looted the Holy Light Order’s headquarters and is now fighting NPCs out here?”
“Second war reporter team, move in! Orgod is in the Withered Forest—things are about to go down!”
“Holy crap, he set Saint Maiden City on fire and killed dozens of NPCs. How much did this guy spend to get this strong?”
Orson blinked as the region channel flooded with chatter. Activating his Divine Vision, he was greeted by a comical sight.
Saint Maiden City’s teleportation points were swamped with players. Thousands poured out, flocking to the Withered Forest like pilgrims on a holy mission.
The forest itself was packed with people. On a nearby dead tree, Orson spotted over twenty “war reporters” perched like monkeys, their eyes glued to him as they activated recording modes in unison.
Unbeknownst to Orson, his previous fight had sparked a wildfire on the forums.
A post titled “The Melee King and UJ’s Softie Girl Fight for 300 Rounds, Ending in a Wardrobe Malfunction” had gone viral, complete with a professionally edited third-person video. The uploader had locked it behind a paywall, charging five gold coins per view.
The video skyrocketed to the top of the trending list, and the player SirLagsALot—an actual radio journalist in real life—raked in millions.
Seeing the insane profits, others quickly caught on. Forget attacking Orgod or joining rival factions. Simply live-streaming or recording his fights was a goldmine.
Orson had no idea how cunning these players could be. Some even started sharing his location for a hefty bounty.
“Orgod, would you say a quick ad line for us? Just one phrase: ‘For underwear, I only wear Big Man Brand!’ We’ll pay 2,000 gold!”
“Hello, Triple Crown King! We’re offering 30,000 gold annually for a contraceptive sponsorship!”
“Remember me? It’s Uber Agent 008—let’s work together again…”
Orson stared at the flood of private messages, his face twitching in disbelief. These lunatics wanted him to shill for brands mid-fight. Did they think he had no integrity?
Still… the thought of earning money just by speaking a few words made his throat dry. He hesitated before reluctantly closing the chat window.
“You’re all geniuses,” Orson muttered bitterly, glaring at the war reporters dangling from tree branches.
“Orgod spoke! Oh my god, he’s so cool and handsome!”
“I love how carefree he is!”
“He’s still showing off, even in battle. I wish I could join him—he’s amazing!”
Amid the chaos, fangirls squealed with delight, their voices drowning out the critics. For every hater, there seemed to be an equally fervent fan.
Orson’s eyes narrowed as he spotted a familiar face among the “tree monkeys.”
“You’re here too, SirLagsALot? Aren’t you worried I’ll accidentally burn you?”
He casually cast Earthquake, sending the buff-expired Karquil and his followers flying.
“Not at all! Burn me anytime—it’s an honor!” SirLagsALot grinned shamelessly.
Death meant little to him now. With Orson as his golden goose, he’d made more money in a day than most players could in a month. Dying a few thousand times was a small price to pay.