In the world of Infinite Dimensions, anything was possible. Orson, thanks to the unsealed traits of an unknown artifact, had managed to gain dual-class attributes.
So, Drunken Dream switching from a knight-based class to a warrior class wasn’t out of the question.
But didn’t he have Denoka, that giant Holy Light dragon?
Wait—had he found out Denoka was actually male…?
Orson’s imagination spun out: what if that horny bastard had let his libido lead the way, released the silver dragon, and picked up a lightning-breathing female dragon instead?
Wild—but unlikely.
Drunken Dream was impulsive, but after what happened with Wedge, he should’ve learned his lesson.
Only a handful of players in his previous life ever had Lightning Dragons as mounts.
All of them were Heavenly-tier players.
Lightning Dragons were insanely aggressive, their direct combat ability considered the pinnacle of Infinite Dimensions—pure speed and brute power that could break any defense.
But taming one? Nearly impossible unless you had a freakish opportunity.
They were among the hardest high-level dragons to subdue.
As for this new Lightning Dragon War Saint class…
Orson guessed it was an S-rank hidden class, a warrior-base that—like Dragon Knights—could perfectly sync with a dragon to unleash devastating power.
Any skill combining their strength would carry the “Dragon Surge Combat Art” prefix, a specialized style akin to classic dragon-rider techniques.
Weird stuff.
Orson frowned, shaking his head and probing Blackjack War God’s team for more info.
ShadowBlade: “That guy’s the current Supreme Guild leader. Total scumbag. A bunch of their senior members are already planning to quit.”
War God: “Yeah, a few days ago he rode a Lightning Dragon straight into their HQ and publicly forced Drunken Dream to step down.”
“Wait—so it wasn’t Drunken Dream?”
Orson’s heart sank. His own loyal mount—his “ride”—getting clowned and ousted, and the guy hadn’t even told him?
He quickly pulled up the regional guild list and found [Supreme Guild].
Drunken Dream’s name was gone from the Guild Master slot.
“So… the Upton Family finally made their move?”
Orson’s smile turned cold, laced with killing intent. The players around him felt a chill down their spines—it was like standing before a bloodthirsty beast.
“What’s his ID?” Orson asked coolly.
“Lord of Forever City, why do you wanna know his ID?”
A mocking voice cut through the air as a trio approached, armored in gear etched with the Lightning Clan crest.
Two of them were NPC dragon riders from the Lightning Clan.
But the one in the center was a player—with the golden title [Supreme Guild Leader] floating above his head.
His ID: Ice Block God.
“Drunken Dream’s younger brother?”
Orson’s brows furrowed. This was Max—Drunken Dream’s half-brother, and now, the new leader of Supreme Guild.
Max scanned Orson with a smug, taunting expression.
“Snatching a capital from Orgod? Gotta admit, that’s gutsy. Why not join Supreme Guild and build something real with us?”
“Where is Drunken Dream?”
Orson’s voice turned frigid as he scrolled through his friends list.
Drunken Dream was offline. A bad feeling twisted in his gut.
“Huh? You know my dear brother?” Max smirked.
“Just like you stole Pondenorlin, I took Supreme Guild for myself.”
“I asked you a question. Where. Is. Yuri?”
Orson’s tone sharpened. He was out of patience.
Lightning Dragon Rider Quasion: “Adventurer, you’d best speak respectfully to the Purple-Gold Dragon King’s chosen. Or you’ll be executed on the spot.”
Lightning Dragon Rider Jels: “Joining Supreme Guild under the War Saint would be your wisest move!”
The two NPCs stepped forward, lightning pulsing off their armor, exuding the presence of celestial beings.
Even War God and his group held their breath.
Max: “Listen, ‘Lord of Forever City,’ I don’t care who you are. You’re no different from the rest of these bottom-feeders. Don’t test me.”
He tossed a pile of gold at War God’s crew—pure disrespect.
War God’s team didn’t dare protest.
ShadowBlade: “Sorry, bro… This is out of our league. We’re not getting involved.”
“It’s fine. This doesn’t concern you.”
Orson nodded, letting them leave. They were just regular players—crossing Supreme Guild’s leader would cost them dearly.
As they scurried off, Orson turned his gaze to the Lightning Dragon Riders. Both were around Level 70—strong enough to rival Domain Lords.
With Saint-class dragon mounts backing them, they far outmatched typical Domain Masters.
But in a cramped underground black market like this?
Even summoning those dragons would be near useless—their movements would be severely limited.
Max might look untouchable to the average player, shielded by NPCs.
But he had no idea what kind of abyss stood before him.
And that abyss?
Was already staring back.
“You wanna fight me? My guards won’t let anyone get close. And behind me isn’t just Supreme Guild…”
Max sneered.
“There’s also a Dragon King who could raze Forever City to the ground! What do you have that can match that?”
“Lightning Dragon King Velorith’s chosen?”
Orson’s expression turned mocking.
“Don’t tell me… You got turned into Velorith’s little pet?”
The smirk vanished from Max’s face like someone yanked his pants down in public.
His cheeks flushed red with humiliation.
“Say that again, you bastard! I dare you!!”
Max’s rage boiled over. The trauma of what had happened still haunted him.
Once hailed as a rich, elite heir of the Upton Family—a future mogul—Max had been… forcibly mounted… by a female dragon.
It had all started after Velorith lost the battle for Pondenorlin City.
While hunting outside the capital, Max had stumbled upon the injured dragon.
He remembered a tale of a player who once rescued a Wind Dragon and gained its eternal loyalty. He thought this was his chance.
He accepted a Hell-tier hidden quest: [Velorith’s Obsession].
What he didn’t expect was Velorith constantly calling him “Orgod”…
And whispering, “I’ll make you mine.” “I’ll conquer you.”
And after countless humiliations, Max had finally “succeeded”…
He became the first-ever Dragon Warrior of Infinite Dimensions, and earned favor from the Lightning Clan.
But the price?
Indescribably traumatic.
Still, as long as no one else knew the truth—not even other players—he could take this secret to the grave.
He would become a legend.
But the skull-masked man standing in front of him had just casually peeled back his deepest, darkest secret—like it was nothing.
Max panicked. He was furious.
And he swore he’d erase this bastard not just in the game—but from reality, too.
Otherwise, he’d become the laughingstock of hundreds of millions of players.
“Upton Family’s second son? Truly invincible.”
Orson chuckled coldly. He’d had enough.
One last time, his voice dropped:
“Where. Is. Yuri?”
“Dead! I had someone kill that dog! You happy now?”
Max’s eyes bulged with madness.
“That blind fool thought he could steal my legacy? Now you can die with him!”
“He’s… dead?”
Orson’s heart dropped.
The last man of the Platinum House—once a beacon of divine strength and mortal hope…
Gone?
His face darkened.
A storm of killing intent exploded from his body.
“I can’t accept that… Not like this.”
Shing!
The Supreme Arcane Blade was drawn.
Cold light flashed.
A blood-drinking Asura appeared beneath the golden mask.
Nether Slash!
Fatal Strike – 14,000,000 damage!