“Public Dungeon [Territorial Struggle] has been activated!”
“Players with noble titles may challenge Bibienne in a duel!”
“Difficulty:Hell-Tier”
“Victory Condition: Maintain control of the arena for seven days. The final victor will be named the Lord of Pondenorlin City!”
“Note: The new Lord will have a 365-day protection period, during which they can ignore challenges from players and NPCs.”
“Major Announcement: Judicial Executor Daziel will oversee the competition in Pondenorlin City!”
The chat exploded.
Iron Cavalry: “What the hell?! My entire estate is just gone like that?!”
Someone else laughed. “Serves him right! I bet Orgod is regretting it so much his guts are turning green!”
Many players breathed a sigh of relief. Celestial Fortress was already ridiculously overpowered—if Orgod became the official lord of Pondenorlin City, life in this game would be impossible.
Money Traveler: “What’s the big deal? If they won’t give it to us, we’ll just take it!”
Slaughter Spree: “You’re the one panicking. This dungeon, this kind of 1v1 duel setup—it’s a death trap for mages.”
Money Traveler: “Oh? Are you saying you want to solo Orson? Or are you talking about fighting me?”
Slaughter Spree immediately changed the topic, pretending he hadn’t seen the message, and instead focused on discussing the dungeon mechanics.
According to the rules, challengers faced a severe disadvantage. Even in a fair fight, the defending player had a 20% higher chance of winning due to the ability to customize battle conditions.
For example, the defender could dictate the battlefield setting, restrict the use of items, disable mounts or battle pets, and limit external buffs.
For a long-range class like Orson, this was a nightmare.
If the arena was set in an enclosed space, any melee fighter with decent durability could bulldoze through a mage’s defenses before they had a chance to retaliate.
On top of that, the possibility of restricting battle pets would cripple Orson’s combat power significantly. His Crimson Lizard King was a major force multiplier—without it, he’d be fighting at a fraction of his usual strength.
But all of that depended on one major factor—whether anyone could even beat the temporary NPC lord in the first place.
The name Golden House alone was enough to scare most people away.
Chances were, Bibienne was a Dragon Knight riding a High-level Dragon.
If he allowed the use of mounts, what player in the current game had a battle pet capable of going up against a Saint Lord-Class Golden Dragon?
Orson glanced at the notification and smirked.
“They’re returning what already belongs to me? How generous.”
This was classic Light Dragon Emperor behavior.
When bribery failed, desperation kicked in.
Orson opened his Titles panel.
[Noble Title: Conqueror Baron]
[Exclusive Title: Tyrannical Ruler]
“This title cannot be upgraded through reputation or quests.”
Effect: You have unlimited noble challenge rights. If you successfully defeat a noble with a fief, you will inherit their land and title.”
This was the true power of the Conqueror Baron title.
Most noble players could only challenge a ruling lord once.
Orson? He could challenge them as many times as he wanted.
If he couldn’t win the first time, he could try ten times, a hundred times—until the opponent was driven insane.
However, unlimited challenges were mostly useless to him.
With his Infamy rating, if he died in battle, he’d lose everything.
The real value of this title was the ability to hold multiple territories at the same time.
In theory, if he was strong enough, he could conquer the entire Light Dragon Empire.
So why should he bow to an NPC emperor?
This was why he had refused the Light Dragon Emperor’s offer.
There was still a full week before the battle for the arena concluded—no need to rush.
For now, Orson turned his attention to something more immediate.
He soared over the ruined city, reaching what remained of the Lord’s Mansion.
“Crimson Lizard King, Doom Dragon Breath.”
A pillar of black fire roared down, incinerating the wreckage and melting the rubble.
From beneath the collapsed ruins, a hidden staircase emerged.
“You have discovered Lord Cain’s Underground Treasury!”
Orson grinned. Jackpot.
Just in case, he drank a vial of Rootless Water for resistance buffs before descending into the vault.
—
Meanwhile, in the skies over Pondenorlin City, a deafening boom rang out.
BOOOOM!
Before everyone’s eyes, a colossal arena began to rise from the city’s northwest corner.
The towering structure climbed into the sky, hovering at an altitude of one thousand meters—a massive flat-topped mountain, ready for battle.
Teleportation gates lit up one after another.
At the heart of the arena, a figure stood—clad in black robes, silver hair cascading behind him.
Atop his head rested a golden balance crown—the symbol of imperial justice.
Judicial Executor Daziel.
Daziel’s voice echoed across the city.
“Count Bibienne, as a representative of the empire’s supreme authority, prepare to face the challengers!”
With a wave of his hand, four invulnerable barriers surrounded the arena.
Then—
ROOOOOAAAARRR!
A Saint Lord-Class Golden Dragon let loose an earth-shaking roar.
A commanding voice followed.
“I shall be the new Lord of Pondenorlin City!”
A blinding golden radiance erupted, as if the sun itself had descended upon the battlefield.
A man clad in ornate golden armor, wielding a crimson dragon lance, landed on the arena floor—a god of war bathed in sunlight.
The Dragon Knight, Count Bibienne.
The crowd fell into stunned silence.
“A Golden Dragon?! Are you kidding me?! The temporary lord is actually a Dragon Knight?!”
“How the hell is anyone supposed to beat this guy?!”
“This is rigged! Even Orgod would have trouble taking this on!”
As if that wasn’t enough, another figure arrived alongside Bibienne—a level 80 Saint Sword Master.
The Imperial Champion, Victor.
“All this… just for a ruined city?”
A voice laughed from above.
A Silver Dragon Knight descended from the sky, a breathtakingly beautiful woman seated behind him.
Gasps filled the crowd.
“That’s… a Silver Dragon Knight?! Damn, he’s handsome!”
“Not just that—look at the woman with him! That’s Duke Xian’s daughter! She’s actually married to Drunken Dream?!”
The Drunken Dream legend only continued to grow.
First, he had fought Orson as an enemy.
Then, he had helped take down the imperial army.
Now, he was riding a High-level Silver Dragon with a stunning NPC wife.
A real winner in life.
A deep, rumbling voice added, “Seven days is a long time. Even if someone defeats Bibienne first, they still have to hold the arena.”
A black-scaled serpent titan coiled around the arena, carrying Demon Emperor atop its back.
Drunken Dream nodded. “That’s right. Players will get significantly stronger after their level 50 class advancements and the activation of their Divine Soul Seals. Making a move now might be premature.”
Slaughter Spree sneered. “The great Upton heir is backing down? Not so high and mighty now, are you?”
A member of Supreme Guild chuckled. “He’s just scared. Typical.”
Then—
WHOOOOOOOSH!
A Storm Dragon streaked across the sky.
The air howled, sending weaker mounts reeling from its sheer presence.
“A level 70 Storm Dragon?! No way!”
Slaughter Spree laughed like a maniac.
“Step aside, little lizards! Pondenorlin City belongs to Slaughter Guild!”
The massive dragon plunged toward the arena.
Slaughter Spree raised his lance, eyes burning with battle lust.
“I, Slaughter Spree, challenge you to a duel!”