“You have submitted the quest item: [War Supreme Council Invitation] 1/1.”
“You have obtained access to the [Holy Dragon Sanctuary]. Speak with the Council Attendant to activate the teleportation array.”
Orson took a moment to think before tossing the loot from the Purple-Gold Dragon King, the fallen angel, and some miscellaneous drops into the guild vault, leaving only a few life-saving items on hand.
He knew very well that the so-called War Supreme Council wouldn’t be some cozy diplomatic sit-down between a few elders. Judging by his current strength, he and Crimson Lizard King together could crush two to three peak King-tier opponents. Against a quasi-God-tier enemy, it’d be a close call, but still winnable.
Given the likely number of Npc participants at the War Supreme Council, it was essentially a gathering of the highest-tier powers in the US Infinite Dimensions sector. If things went south and he became their target, even he might not survive.
Emperor Bairinador had used him as a blade to strike down the Purple-Gold Dragon King, but who’s to say another blade wasn’t now aimed at him?
After all, he’d repeatedly rejected imperial appointments, set up Forever City as his own independent dominion, and, more importantly, openly humiliated the Holy Light Empire. Add to that the enemies he’d made in the Purple-Gold family, the Golden House, and the Holy Light Church… those guys would love nothing more than to see him torn limb from limb.
“Tch… Light the Spirit Tribe—claiming righteousness, yet as lowly as ever. Dark the Spirit Tribe—failures of an internal power struggle.”
“The so-called noble Spirit Tribe who preach charity, all while licking the boots of the Emperor like obedient mutts.”
“Shut your cursed mouth, you filthy heretic!”
Orson turned at the noise. At the foot of the palace steps, two factions stood off—one dressed in black, the other in white. It was a classic standoff between the Light and Dark Spirit Tribe factions. A brawl was moments away.
“Well, well. So the Spirit Tribe twins are about to bite each other’s throats.” A faint grin played at the corners of Orson’s mouth. Originally the same race, the Spirit Tribe had long since split over ideological differences—one loyal to the Light Dragon Emperor, the other sworn to the Dark Dragon Emperor. Their elite assassin units were bred for blood feuds.
“Princess Nora, your retainers have no right to be here!” barked a white-robed man with a phoenix-feathered helm.
“Heh. Prince Preston, aren’t you someone else’s retainer now too?” A silvery giggle echoed.
Orson squinted toward the sound. A tall, white-skinned woman with intricate runes swirling up her arms stepped from the shadows of the hall. Her form shimmered slightly, as if at any moment she might vanish—an inherent racial trait of the Spirit Tribe.
Preston’s expression soured. “The Dark Spirit King sends a junior in his place? Not afraid you won’t make it back alive?”
“I trust my uncle more than I trust you. And besides…” Nora’s smile was disarmingly pleasant, “…I don’t plan to return empty-handed.”
“So she’s the one who snatched my Chaos Scroll?” Orson’s eyes narrowed. This woman had used a Titan’s Eye to intercept his Chaos Scroll before it even landed.
“An 80-level Saint Lord Npc, huh? Not bad,” Orson mused, noting her poise and calm. This was no common Npc.
“I greet the Spirit King of the Light Tribe.” Nora bowed toward an empty space.
Orson frowned and activated Soul Seal to scan the direction she’d bowed in.
[Spirit King Ku’Jalai – Light Spirit Tribe]
[Level: 120]
[Rank: Sub-God-Level Lifeform]
[HP: 200 million (Weakened)]
[Attack: 60,000–90,000]
[Skill: Divine item effect – Undetectable]
[King’s Authority: Divine item effect – Undetectable]
A vague silhouette of white energy hovered mid-air, like a specter caught in moonlight. Bent and frail, yet the oppressive aura was undeniable—even space itself warped subtly around him.
“A max-level quasi-God…”
Orson inhaled sharply. Without his Super God-grade Soul Seal, he never would have known a top-tier assassin was quietly hovering behind him.
“My niece, Nora. Is your father still breathing?” The Spirit King’s voice was dry and scratchy, like something scraped out of a crypt.
“He’s not dead yet,” Nora answered cheerfully, “but he’s already picked his plot in the Abyss.”
“You insolent brat!” Preston growled.
But Ku’Jalai just laughed dryly. “Don’t worry, Princess. I may be halfway in the grave, but I’ll drag my brother down with me.”
“Filthy traitors! When this council is done, I’ll see your entire line purged!” Preston snapped.
“Then why wait?” Nora raised her arms. “Strike now.”
Verbal warfare flared again. Though tensions burned hot, no one drew a blade.
Orson groaned, rubbing his temples. “If you’re gonna fight, do it already. I could use the entertainment.”
“A mere human? This has nothing to do with you,” Preston sneered.
Their gazes turned toward Orson. A dense killing intent spread through the air, but Orson stood motionless on the steps.
“Baron of the Light Dragon Empire,” he said coolly.
Laughter erupted from a few Light Spirit Tribe elites. “Baron? The lowest noble tier? Even Duke Xien bows to us!”
More mocking followed. In their eyes, a player Baron might as well be a flea—easily crushed.
“That’s him! He killed the Six-Winged Flame Dragon and ruined my father’s plan—Chaos Sect Leader!” Nora suddenly tensed, her pupils shrinking.
“Silence!” Preston snapped. “That’s Baron Orgod—the one who slew Soros and Daloré!”
The name dropped like a bomb. Even the weakest present were Domain Master Npcs. Yet none dared move a muscle.
To slay two high dragon kings was an act so outrageous, so blasphemous, it had already become legend.
“I don’t like assassins,” Orson said casually. “They make me twitchy.”
Ku’Jalai finally appeared—a shriveled elder cloaked in death energy. He fixed Orson with a long stare. “Baron… If I were you, I would not enter the Emperor’s hall.”
“Oh?” Orson arched a brow. “Because I wouldn’t come back out?”
“No. Because you are an outsider marked by divinity. Even death cannot erase your Soul Seal.”
Ku’Jalai’s faded eyes gleamed. “The Emperor does not wish to wage war across realms. But your presence—and that of two others—threatens the balance.”
So… Orson wasn’t the only player invited to this council. That part wasn’t surprising.
But the real question was—who was pulling the strings?
“I see. So this War Supreme Council is all smoke and mirrors,” Orson muttered. “Someone set up the dragon king’s downfall—and it wasn’t that coward of an Emperor.”
“Unrelated to you,” Orson said with a half-smile. Out of respect, he nodded to Ku’Jalai and turned to the Council Attendant.
“Wait, Chaos Sect Leader.” Nora stepped forward, smiling sweetly.
“What do you want, Princess?” Orson took a few steps back, blade already in hand.
Four Saint Lord-tier assassins and a semi-god were watching him. But if they pushed him, he wouldn’t hesitate to drop bodies and blow the whole place sky-high.
Nora tilted her head adorably. “I believe this belongs to your… sect.”
She flipped her hand. A dark red scroll materialized in her palm.
Nora: “It seemed important, so I purchased it. Consider this… a return to its rightful owner.”
A system prompt flashed:
You have obtained: [Chaos Scroll – Middle Chapter] 1/1
You have completed the Chaos Scroll Set. Would you like to unlock a new magic talent?
Orson blinked in disbelief.
Wasn’t this supposed to be a Hell-tier contested quest?
Now she’s just… handing it over?
This… this doesn’t make sense at all.