The broken cauldron remained completely unmoved despite the thunderous bombardment—clearly, this thing was no ordinary relic.
Orson licked his lips. “What’s mine is mine. What’s my senior brother’s… is also mine. We’re all one big family anyway.”
Unfortunately, the cauldron had several gaping holes, and bolts of lightning kept striking through the cracks.
Luckily, Flame Fosset and Veijander were both King-tier players. With their massive health pools, they took turns soaking the damage, barely surviving amidst the heavenly thunder.
Flame Fosset shouted, “My disciple was born under lucky stars. Even if the sky falls, he won’t die!”
Grevor muttered, “How is this bastard still alive…”
Veijander grumbled, “When we get back, you better give me a truckload of legendary crafting mats. That’s the only way you’ll make up for my loss.”
Veijander had originally planned to summon the Forge God’s Furnace to block the Forbidden Curse, but Orson had stopped him.
It wasn’t just because the temporary loaned Nine-Headed Flame Dragon couldn’t handle the power of the curse.
More importantly, according to Flame Fosset, any Artifact, Divine Item, or high-tier magic that dared to face a Forbidden Curse head-on would instantly be struck by divine thunder from the heavens—ripping the caster to shreds.
Lightning rained down from above, but none of it even touched Orson or the Crimson Lizard King.
Orson smirked. Just as expected, the old ancestor’s reputation ran deep—even the projection of the Celestial Lord didn’t dare lay a finger on them.
Veijander groaned, “I almost lost my family heirloom, bro… Please help me find a few Divine Items to fix it.”
He was gently rubbing the cracked handle of his Artifact, Thunderfire Hammer, murmuring under his breath, clearly heartbroken.
Teaming up with Orson had almost gotten him struck by divine judgment—what a raw deal.
During the thunderstorm, the Artifact had even slipped from his grip and temporarily became an unclaimed item.
Fortunately, he’d reacted fast enough to pick it back up before it could fall into one of the lightning-made crevices.
“We’ll talk about it later,” Orson snapped.
Then he paused, confused. “Wait… if a weapon gets hit by red lightning, it becomes ownerless?”
Veijander nodded dumbly. “Good thing I’m quick on my feet! That guy nearly stole it!”
He jabbed a finger at Flame Fosset, who gave a sheepish grin. “I was just helping our Grey Dwarf buddy—looked like he couldn’t handle everything at once.”
“Helping, huh? Were you planning to ‘store it’ for thirty years before giving it back?” Orson’s eyes gleamed.
Flame Fosset cleared his throat and promised that would never happen.
But Orson could clearly see the old bastard muttering and cursing under his breath—heartbroken at missing the opportunity.
Only dwarven NPCs could wield dwarf Artifacts, but that didn’t stop someone from selling them for gold or using King’s Authority to extend their lifespan.
“Tch. NPCs in this game are craftier than most players.” Orson couldn’t help but laugh.
Still, he made a mental note. Infinite Dimensions was nothing like other games—many of its NPCs had intelligence rivaling or surpassing actual players.
Let your guard down, and they’d chew you up.
Even Veijander, who was under a master-servant contract, couldn’t be fully trusted.
At that moment, the thunderclouds overhead began to thin. The Forbidden Curse cast by Velorith seemed to be nearing its end.
Grevor stepped forward. “Let me remind you, Orgod—don’t think this ends here. You still have to answer for Soros’s death. Take some damn responsibility.”
Ding-dong—
You’ve received a clue to a hidden quest.
Orson frowned. A hidden quest popping up now? That couldn’t be good.
He muttered to himself, “Wait… could this be about the [Golden Divine Pillar]? One of the eight world anchors in this zone?”
Tempted as he was to investigate, Orson forced himself to suppress the urge.
Curiosity or not—it wasn’t his problem.
He killed the Golden Dragon King fair and square. If Soros was too arrogant to handle it, that was his own fault.
What did the duties of Infinite Dimensions or the calamity from the Demon Nation have to do with a mere trial participant?
“I refuse,” Orson said flatly.
This quest is a passive event. Viewing is mandatory.
Another prompt appeared.
The quest [Protect the Golden Divine Pillar] was now automatically added to his log.
Orson was furious. This so-called Light God’s Envoy was clearly messing with him.
Hidden Quest: [Protect the Golden Divine Pillar]
Difficulty: Legendary-Tier
Details: Unknown
Quest Step 1: Reach Newbie Village #3313 within one week. Use the portal at coordinates 112.21 to enter [World’s End].
Failure Penalty 1: Fail to arrive in time and lose 20 levels.
Failure Penalty 2: Your guild will be flagged as a [Heretical Organization]. All Godslayer players will be denied supplies from any town or NPC in the Light Dragon Empire.
World’s End?
Legendary difficulty?
“This is a goddamn death sentence.”
Orson’s expression darkened.
A ridiculous escort mission was bad enough—but now refusing it would doom everyone in Godslayer?
Unacceptable.
He turned slowly to glare at Grevor. “You think I won’t kill you, or that I’m easy to mess with?”
Grevor’s face was grim. “This is the will of the Light God.”
Orson’s smile was cold and fake. He nodded slightly, then said, “Sure. The Light God’s really something, huh? Let me show you what real power looks like.”
Grevor’s expression changed. He raised his withered staff, ready to cast.
But Orson ignored him.
Instead, he shouted at the fading Celestial Palace in the sky.
“Vortigon, you dumb snake! You got played!”
“If you’ve got balls—strike me down with lightning!”
His voice rang out across the battlefield.
The lightning paused.
But the projection of the Celestial Palace didn’t disappear.
Endless thunderclouds swirled together, forming a massive draconic shadow in the sky.
Two white eyes emerged from the clouds, radiating divine pressure.
“Perish.”
“You dared insult a Dragon God’s projection—you are doomed.”
A shadowy figure streaked across the sky—Velorith.
She was laughing like a maniac, her body covered in torn flesh and flowing blood.
Only her high lightning resistance kept her alive. Her HP had dropped to just 160 million.
She immediately made a beeline toward the Purple-Gold Dragon King.
Daloré, the Purple-Gold Dragon King, spread his crystal wings, shielding two near-dead Golden Dragons and the Dragon Knights of the Golden House beneath him.
Among the Four Dragon Kings, Daloré wasn’t known for offense—but he was a master of sealing magic, and his HP pool was absurdly deep.
Even after being struck by divine thunder, Orson still couldn’t see how much health he had left.
“You bastard… are you trying to get us all killed?!”