“You have killed an Orc Shaman. Experience +4000!” “You have killed an Orc Lion-faced Warrior. Experience +3000!” “…”
The Orcs in the city were like ants on a hot pan—frozen one moment, then immediately set ablaze by intense flames. Their pitiful cries echoed through the air.
On the player side, there was an eerie silence. Everyone just stared at the massacre unfolding in the city, too stunned to speak.
In less than a minute, two of the Eight Sages from the guilds were instantly killed. They barely had a chance to resist.
“Damn it! We’re here holding the line, and they just sold us out?” “…This isn’t holding the line; this is pure torture!”
Almost as soon as they had left the Bloodaxe City, they logged off immediately to avoid further pursuit.
Orson gazed toward the direction where Skyslasher and the others had fled, nodding seriously. “Old foes are always tough. They’re experienced, hard to deal with.”
The surrounding players twitched their lips. With how things were going, just managing to escape from this monster was already considered a huge achievement.
CrimsonTiger’s voice rang out: “You stole my items, Orgod! Don’t think I’ll forget this!”
Orson narrowed his eyes, his expression calm and unfazed. “Remember it all you want. What’s it going to change?”
CrimsonTiger’s face darkened, unable to come up with a retort.
EclipseRider whispered to CrimsonTiger, his tone turning sinister: “Don’t waste your breath. Once the Orc warriors are down to half, Bloodaxe King will spawn. By then, he’ll be too overwhelmed to handle it. We’ll have our chance!”
“Kill these damn Orcs! We’ll avenge our fallen comrades!” Ninelra’s wild roar echoed through the air as she swiftly decapitated several Orc elite bosses with her claws. More than five hundred half-Orcs surged forward, spurred on by Orson’s Ice Prison Ring.
With the chaos unfolding, the Orcs’ momentum faltered, their ranks slaughtered mercilessly as Orson’s experience bar skyrocketed.
Then, a thunderous roar echoed through the depths of Bloodaxe City. A giant boss, as massive as a small mountain, burst out of the camp.
This boss had pitch-black skin, muscles bulging like coiled dragons, veins visibly popping. It wore the skull of an unknown beast atop its head and wielded a gigantic red blood axe over five meters long—looking as terrifying and brutal as any beast could.
[Bloodaxe King Odes: Level 70]
[Domain Lord Class Creature]
[HP: 60,000,000]
[Attack Power: 8,000]
[Skills: Frenzied Slash, Thunder Axe Strike, Frenzy Power, Summon Thunder Eagle, Body Domination]
The appearance of Odes thrilled the players who had been in a standoff. In the past, Dragon’s Kiss Guild had lost more than half of their top-tier raid team trying to take this boss down. If not for Usher stepping in at the last minute, they would have been wiped out.
It wasn’t long before Usher, in his demonic prince guise, had bent the boss to serve the Dark Dragon Empire, and the guild had gained substantial rewards from it.
“Here it comes! Get ready, the moment he splits his attention, we’ll strike!”
CrimsonTiger’s eyes sparkled with anticipation, quickly alerting his guildmates.
EclipseRider: “Yes! Bloodaxe King will at least keep him busy for thirty minutes. And with his space items on cooldown, he won’t escape this time!”
To their shock, Orson didn’t even turn around when he heard the commotion behind him. He stood atop the hill, calmly watching them.
His cold, detached gaze sent chills down their spines. For a moment, none of them knew whether to move forward or to retreat.
“A small boss like this, and you think you can turn the tide?” Orson’s voice extinguished the spark of hope they had just ignited.
Their faces froze. Meanwhile, Bloodaxe King was still roaring, only to meet the deadly blast of Doom Dragon Breath.
In the blink of an eye, the entire Orc camp was consumed by blazing fire, with no sign of life left.
Percentage Damage: -1.9 Million!
Percentage Damage: -1.85 Million!
…
“Half an hour? You’ve got to be kidding me!” The guild leader of RecklessWolf watched in shock as the absurd damage numbers flashed. In just a few seconds, Bloodaxe King had lost five million health!
CrimsonTiger and EclipseRider were left speechless, staring at the screen in stunned silence.
It was clear now—Orson’s battle beast alone could wipe out Bloodaxe City. What hope did they have?
Orson smiled and said nothing. Not to mention that Crimson Lizard King had far more health than Bloodaxe King, but the Doom Dragon Breath was a direct counter to high-health bosses.
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“Still not making your move?” Orson’s voice cut through the air, dripping with sarcasm.
The players around him wore grim expressions, the stolen Demon God Flags now held against them. They were too frightened to approach, humiliated by how things had turned out.
As for charging forward together?
After seeing Orson’s A-rank magic earlier, it was clear—coming at him would only lead to a massacre!
“Such a scattered formation—how troublesome.” Orson sighed, noticing that his opponents weren’t foolish. They had deliberately spread out to minimize the effectiveness of his area-of-effect skills.
Standing atop the hill, Orson decided to engage them from a distance and began preparing for an attack.
“Whisper of the Wind.”
Orson muttered with a smile as green light flowed from his hand. His attack speed increased by 20%, reaching a blistering 5.0+.
In the blink of an eye, he unleashed five Chaos Magic Balls per second.
Whizz! Whizz! Whizz!
The magic balls shot out like comets, raining down on the distant players.
“Is this even a normal attack or some kind of artillery? What’s his attack range?!”
Orson was casually launching basic attacks, but from a distance of nearly three kilometers. It was enough to crush the morale of the players present.
CrimsonTiger: “Mage, Archer, what are you waiting for? Attack already!”
At this, Killer guild’s ranged players froze, staring blankly at their leader.
CrimsonTiger: “What are you looking at? He’s hitting us, don’t you know how to fight back?”
CrimsonTiger, one of the top players, had little understanding of Infinite Dimensions’ mechanics. All he knew was that he had paid a lot to train his mages. At the very least, they should be able to put up a fight, right?
Yet here they were, several hundred strong, and still too timid to launch a counterattack.
“If I had the Infinite Dimensions magic god’s range… I’d help you out.”
CrimsonTiger was furious, blasting Killer’s Black Spade K with a string of angry curses.
Black Spade K, who was being verbally battered, had enough. He gritted his teeth and led a group of several hundred players toward Orson.
“Finally charging?” Orson murmured to himself, surprised. A moment ago, these players were evading his attacks, and now they were grouping together for a charge?
Orson frowned, shaking his head. He cast Awakening Judgment Flame to probe their reaction, not wanting to let his guard down.
Dark stars glimmered as the flame spread.
In an instant, the charging group of several hundred players was wiped out.
The result was so fast and so smooth, Orson couldn’t believe his eyes. The explosion sounded deafening, and not a trace of the players remained.
Killer Black Spade K: “Ah… Thank you…”
Orson stared at the private message, bewildered. The single word “ah” in the message was filled with frustration, making it difficult for him to understand.
This mage was an S-class Sky Mage, part of a rare subclass of wind magic that specialized in large-scale combat. It didn’t make sense for someone with their power to have no chance to retaliate yet choose to die so easily.
EclipseRider’s face stiffened as he looked at the pile of dropped gear. It was clear now: his “god-slaying” fantasy was over.
CrimsonTiger’s face flushed, and he cleared his throat to save face. “Cough… why should we die trying to fight him? Let’s retreat, for now, strategically.”
With CrimsonTiger escaping behind the protection of dozens of knights, other players scattered in all directions.
Orson’s brows furrowed. He had originally planned to feign weakness, drawing them in for a final ambush. But these guys were smart. Their disciplined retreat left him unable to read their movements.
“Such an experienced retreat strategy. The Eight Sages truly are no ordinary foes.” Orson muttered to himself.