“We’re here.”
Those four simple words brought a smile to Orson’s face. He replied calmly, “Good. I’ll be waiting.”
There was no way he’d show up to the War Supreme conference without some cards up his sleeve.
From what he’d learned through Drunken Dream—who had infiltrated the Platinum Nobility as a duke’s son-in-law—Orson knew one thing: if his participation caused the Light Dragon Empire’s internal decisions to waver, he would become the target of a collective purge by other Infinite Dimensions powerhouses.
This meeting was nothing more than a formality. The outcome had already been decided. Orson, as the so-called representative of the Light Elf King, was just playing a scripted role.
From that moment, he had made up his mind—if the emperor brat didn’t want to play fair, he’d have no problem reducing the Light Dragon capital to rubble. Even if the Inquisition declared the entire Godslayer Guild heretical and stripped them of all empire-based NPC services, Forever City could serve as their independent base.
Orson waited at the teleportation node for a few minutes until a shimmer of light descended, revealing a man cloaked in white.
“Handled?” Orson asked with a knowing smile.
“All taken care of,” the man replied coldly, eyes as sharp as a drawn blade.
“No way! Is that… Drunken Dream?! Wasn’t he done with the game after his family incident?”
“Supreme Guild just switched leaders again! The Silver Dragon Knight is back!”
“Who the hell started that rumor? I was about to leave the guild!”
“Salute to Drunken Dream!”
His appearance stirred a wave of awe among players. Within just a few hours, Max and Eliza’s faction had been purged from Supreme Guild. Kieran, the youngest Upton sibling, had been made a vice president after a little ‘conversation’ with Drunken Dream.
“My friend…”
Drunken Dream looked at Orson, eyes filled with complex emotion. The Silver Dragon Knight lowered his head, dropped to one knee, and gave Orson a formal knight’s salute. “No words can express my gratitude. From this day forward, your path is my own.”
“WTF?!”
“Am I seeing this right? The Silver Dragon Knight just…”
All around, players were stunned as Orson removed his disguise and donned the golden mask. The crowd collectively stopped breathing.
“He’s kneeling… to the Forever City Lord?”
“What the hell is going on with Drunken Dream? First he soloed the Triple Crown winner, then allied with Godslayer to fight, and now he’s kneeling to the guy who stole Orgod’s city?”
“This guy’s history is a total mess!”
Disbelief spread through the crowd, many viewing Drunken Dream with a new level of suspicion. But he didn’t care. A powerful man needed no one’s approval to raise his spear. His loyalty was unshakable.
This man—this golden-masked warrior—had shaped who he had become.
Whether it was saving his life or avenging his past, nothing he said could truly convey his gratitude. Only action would suffice.
Drunken Dream’s ruthless restructuring had quickly solidified Supreme Guild into a tight unit. From now on, they would be Godslayer’s most loyal ally—ready to bleed for the cause.
Orson understood his resolve and didn’t flinch at the dramatic gesture.
“Kings do not kneel,” Orson said, smiling gently and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Stand tall. Your brilliance will light the path ahead.”
Drunken Dream rose with a firm nod, resolve burning in his eyes. He could feel that something momentous was approaching. If even their weapons from Infinite Dimensions could manifest in reality, then surely this world was changing.
The game’s secrets were far greater than anyone knew.
“I knew it… I knew there was something between you two!”
A sleazy voice echoed from the teleportation portal. A black shadow emerged, the figure within eyeing them both with exaggerated heartbreak.
“You bastard…”
Orson recoiled, yanking his hand off Drunken Dream’s shoulder like he’d touched fire. He glared daggers at the silhouette.
“S-class stealth passive?” Drunken Dream muttered, shocked. He was only twenty meters away and couldn’t even lock onto the guy.
He’d seen this skill before, used by dark Spirit Tribe NPCs in dungeons—perfect for ambushes and trickery.
“You’re abandoning me for him? My dear Forever City Lord…” The greasy voice cooed with mock affection.
Veins popped on Orson’s forehead. He raised his Supreme Arcane Blade and roared, “You rat! Come out now or I’m calling Raven!”
“Alright, alright, chill!” Madman’s voice rang out, finally stepping into view, flashing his teeth and shooting Drunken Dream a suggestive eyebrow wiggle.
With great “sincerity,” he suggested that, for Sienna’s future happiness, Drunken Dream should just marry her. That way, he’d win the beauty and the blessing.
“Uh…”
“Hell-Tier dungeon, huh? Sounds hard.” Another portal lit up, and Stewart emerged holding a small lamb in his arms.
“I’m just a nobody. I can’t even handle Elite mobs. For your safety, you might want to find a better healer,” Stewart said with a long-suffering look.
“Shut it. You’re our premium accessory.” Orson chuckled and yanked him into the party.
“This lamb has over 400 million HP?” Drunken Dream blinked in shock.
“Yep. It’s our guild mascot! You don’t wanna see it pissed off,” Madman grinned.
“More HP than Denoka…?” Drunken Dream broke into a cold sweat. That name alone triggered war flashbacks.
“Guild mascot? Heh. Madman, once this dungeon’s over, prepare your neck—I’m coming for it.”
A cool voice cut in as Blank strutted through the portal, chin high.
A whirlwind sliced the air—within a breath, her dagger ghosted across Madman’s eye, throat, and heart.
“I…”
Madman broke into a sweat. With over 4000 AGI, he still couldn’t see her move.
“Oh snap! Emma’s a beast!” Stewart clapped gleefully.
Madman turned purple, glaring at Orson. “You brought her here while I’m around? You trying to piss me off?”
“She’s in the room next to yours…” Bradley added as he stepped through the portal. “Not scared she might slip in at night and… slice-slice?”
Panic hit Madman like a truck. He turned and saluted Blank. “You’re amazing! I’m trash! You win!”
“Godslayer’s strongest warrior! Ranked fifteenth worldwide—higher than the Demon Emperor!”
“What is happening today? It’s like all the big dogs are showing up!”
“Are we about to see a major event in the capital?”
Spectating players were stunned. Powerhouses from Supreme Guild, Slaughter, and Godslayer were all gathered—why were they hanging around the Forever City Lord?
“What’s Sienna up to?” Orson asked, frowning as her status still showed as online. He looked at Blank accusingly. “Aren’t you supposed to be her bodyguard? You’re slacking—”
“Drop dead.”
Blank rolled her eyes and cut him off.
“I just got her to level 20. We were headed to that S-rank hidden healer questline you told me about…”
“Then this shady NPC old man pops up, claiming he was scammed and went bankrupt. Before I could stop her, Sienna gave him 10,000 gold…”
Blank paused, then smirked. “She’s way more innocent than you. Try not to corrupt her, alright?”
“10,000 gold… to a scammy NPC…?”
Orson’s face froze. The gold wasn’t the issue—the scamming MO was. It immediately reminded him of a certain perverted old bastard…
His blood ran cold.
He checked her username: My Bro Orgod Is Crazy OP.
Great.
Freakin’ great.
She was wearing her lineage like a target on her forehead. His enemies wouldn’t even have to search.
“The old man said she was the ‘Chosen One,’ then cast some illusion spell to trap me in a barrier.”
Orson swallowed hard, about to DM Sienna to warn her.
“Too late,” Blank said with a sigh. “She’s already inside a secret realm. Private messages are disabled.”
Orson nearly turned to stone.
“This is bad,” he muttered. “This is seriously bad. They’re coming for me…”
“Damn it, Chaos Sect. You’re really trying to rob me blind!”