Veijander let out a low, chilling laugh. Without hesitation, he swung his war axe in a ruthless arc.
Blood sprayed.
The Dwarven Grandmaster’s head tumbled to the ground, his body collapsing in a twitching heap.
The remaining Grey Dwarves, who had just dared to lift their heads, immediately lowered them once more, pressing their foreheads into the dirt.
Orson shook his head, a hint of amusement in his eyes.
“A Dwarven King? A fusion of god and demon, and he’s supposed to be satisfied just ruling the dwarves?”
There was never any suspense.
Veijander’s axe fell once more—
Odin’s head hit the ground.
The Ashen King, ruler of the Grey Dwarves for over a thousand years, was dead.
Major Announcements:
[Infinite Dimensions’ balance shifts! Betrayer, Grey Dwarven Veijander, has slain the god-tier forgemaster Odin (King-level)!]
[Betrayer, Grey Dwarven Veijander, has ascended as the new Grey Dwarven King!]
[The Light Dragon Emperor has declared Veijander a heretic!]
[The Dark Dragon King has declared Veijander an enemy!]
[This world boss will now be hunted by both empires upon entering their territory! Players who assist in the hunt will receive substantial rewards!]
The worldwide chat exploded.
“What the hell? That trash blacksmith from Pondenorlin City just killed a god-tier blacksmith? What kind of bullshit is this?!”
“Holy shit, a world boss just dropped! Get your squads ready—we’re taking this bastard down!”
Infinite Dimensions’ first-ever world boss had just appeared—
And it was none other than the notorious scammer blacksmith that players had cursed for years.
Yet somehow, he had killed a god-tier forgemaster?
But that wasn’t even the most ridiculous part.
Major Announcements:
[Betrayer, Veijander, has unified the Grey Dwarves and declared himself Emperor of the Dwarven Empire!]
[As a result, player Orgod has been rewarded with:
1500 Free Attribute Points 2100 Skill Points 15 Talent Points 100,000 Gold Coins]
“WTF?! A blacksmith killed the Grey Dwarven King and got buffed like a god?!”
“This game is making no damn sense anymore. Can someone explain this insanity?”
“Confirmed: Infinite Dimensions is rigged. Man just watched a murder and got rewarded for it.”
Skyslasher furrowed his brows.
“What the hell did he even do to cause all this? A world boss spawned just from whatever he was up to?”
Even top players from both factions were left speechless.
One of them, EclipseRider, scoffed.
“Come on, he didn’t do shit. That blacksmith is the world boss. He probably just stood around and let the fight happen. Just dumb luck.”
TitanBreaker agreed.
“Yeah, looking at the situation, it seems like pure coincidence.”
Their words calmed the panic spreading among the major guilds.
After all, the idea that a player could lead an NPC into a 2v1 fight against a King-tier boss was completely absurd.
Even Usher, who held two Divine Soul Seals, wouldn’t be able to pull that off.
It had to be luck.
Meanwhile…
Veijander raised Odin’s severed head, unleashing a thunderous war cry.
Across the entire sacred land, the Grey Dwarves roared in response, lifting their weapons to the sky.
Even knowing they had just painted a massive target on themselves, even knowing that both empires would come for them—
Their battle spirit burned hotter than ever.
Because now—
Their emperor had arrived.
The Grey Dwarves would rise again!
CRACK!
Odin’s corpse exploded into golden light, a pillar of radiance piercing the sky.
Orson smirked.
“You fight, I loot. Perfect.”
He descended leisurely, paying zero attention to the chaos, and casually began picking up the spoils.
“Damn, what a haul.”
Orson clicked his tongue in satisfaction.
Two Level 100 Forbidden Magic armor pieces. A full set of Level 80 Ultimate Legendary warrior gear [Lament from the Ashes]. Over 30,000 gold.
Then—
Ding!
[ Title Effect: Orc Heretic Activated! ]
Orson froze, his eyes narrowing at the gold-and-black icon flashing in his log.
“You have obtained a damaged Artifact!”
[Fireplume Stardust]
– Grade: Artifact
– Level Requirement: 100
– Status: Severely Damaged – Cannot view attributes.
– Status: Severely Damaged – Cannot be repaired.
Orson’s eyebrows twitched.
“Oh, great. A pile of junk.”
He had been expecting something big—
But all that remained of this so-called Artifact was a half-shattered sword hilt.
Completely beyond repair.
Yet—
It had survived a battle between two King-tier beings.
Which meant—
Its material had to be special.
If nothing else, he could break it down for divine-grade crafting materials.
Veijander, watching from the side, spoke up.
Ahem… Lord Orgod, that sword hilt, I can actually refine it into [Flame Astris], a god-tier metal.
Then, another notification popped up.
Grey Dwarven King Veijander has invited you to the Hidden Realm Banquet.
Orson glanced at the notification, then shook his head without a word.
Instead, he returned to the ruined forge, sweeping away rubble with a casual Grip of the Underworld, then mounted the Crimson Lizard King and descended once more.
Veijander’s expression darkened.
The Divine Forge—
Its temperature was dropping.
If it cooled completely, it would lose its divine-grade properties forever.
Cursing under his breath, Veijander leapt down after Orson.
Then, Orson turned toward him, eyes gleaming playfully.
“Once you’re done forging my gear, I’m taking this thing with me.”
Veijander’s face immediately stiffened.
His jaw clenched, his grip on his war axe tightening.
“Impossible.” His voice was firm, unwavering.
“The forge belongs to the Grey Dwarven Kings. I cannot let you take it.”
Orson laughed softly.
“Oh? Can’t let me take it? You think you’re really a Demon God now?”
His gaze turned icy.
“I made you strong. And I can just as easily destroy you.”
With those words—
A blood-red contract appeared before Veijander.
The next second—
It expanded violently, pages flipping open in midair, radiating a supreme, oppressive aura.
Veijander’s face turned pale.
Within the contract, over a hundred methods of torture were etched in eerie detail—
Each one pulsating with a cold, malevolent energy.
The tormentors within the pages seemed to move, their grins widening, as if alive.
Then—
A bloodstained hand shot out from the contract.
Veijander’s entire body stiffened.
The space around him locked.
Even his Artifact war axe was utterly useless.
The hand clamped around his throat.
Four more hands burst forth, twisting like crimson serpents, latching onto his limbs, dragging him toward the swirling abyss of blood.