“A thorn in my side…”
Usher’s expression was complicated. That declaration—that fearsome tone—was supposed to be his line.
Imperial Marshal:
“Who do you think you are, heretic? You dare make demands at a war council?”
Duke of Gold:
“One day, you will pay for this in blood! If not for you, the Empire would’ve already marched forth in conquest!”
Duke of Purple-Gold:
“You think we’ll forget what you did to my daughter Cassandra and Daloré, you damn destroyer?!”
The outbursts came fast and furious. Especially from the two highborn nobles who had lost more than just prestige—their ties to fallen dragon kings meant their political futures were now hanging by a thread. There were plenty of eager nobles ready to claw their way over their corpses for advancement.
Duke of Lightning:
“Hmph. Cowards and weaklings, the lot of you. Sharing the same banner is my greatest shame.”
That stung. The other two families turned purple with fury.
Only Tulikiki and Velorith remained of the Empire’s dragon kings, and the Lightning clan was famous for its militant pride. Naturally, they had little patience for those who preached defense.
Orson stood tall, coldly smiling.
“I’ll say it again. Those who choose not to go to war… die.”
The word “die” echoed across the marble vaults of the council chamber like a curse. The kings ground their teeth.
Had any other adventurer said something like that, the room would’ve erupted into laughter. But not today.
Because Orson had killed not one, but two dragon kings—beings so powerful that even ancient time itself barely left a mark on them.
If he could fell them, who could say he wouldn’t turn that same blade on the rest?
“Silence! You think you can threaten us?”
Jenonis cut through the tension with his frosty voice.
“If he dares lay a finger on any of you, the Holy Light Church will intervene. That is the will of the Emperor. The will of the Light God!”
Bairinador, bloated and smiling, quickly jumped in.
“Yes! That’s exactly what I was going to say. I love peace, but I’m not afraid either! Baron, watch yourself!”
“Good. Very good.”
Orson’s eyes narrowed, his voice sharpened to a blade’s edge.
He was already weighing how many pieces Archangel Jenonis could be cut into. Would his feathers be better suited for Sienna’s next set of gear?
As for Bairinador, his Artifact-encrusted belt alone could fetch millions of gold. Just enough to wipe out Orson’s current debts.
If the decision didn’t go his way—
Then maybe it was time for new rulers.
Nora:
“The Dark Spirit Tribe fears no war. What say you, Ku’Jalai? As the so-called true bloodline, surely it’s time to set an example.”
But the Spirit King remained impassive. He’d clearly already cast his vote—and it was defense.
He, like many of the War Supremes, had long been aligned with the Archangel’s camp.
Alexander let out a bitter chuckle.
Out of respect for the “Captain,” he voted War without hesitation.
For players, war was everything.
Killing NPCs and players from other regions awarded war merits—one of the fastest ways to power up.
The attitude of their local empire mattered a lot. Without support from native NPC armies, foreign invasions were a suicide mission.
This was exactly why Orson insisted on war. He knew what was coming.
Usher:
“Perfect. Three dragon kings say WAR!”
With Orson and others included, the war camp had tallied nine votes.
Bairinador finally put down his food, his beady eyes dark with venom.
“Fools. All of you. You seek your own end.”
Jenonis smiled serenely, but his eyes scanned the remaining War Supremes like a predator counting prey.
These so-called rulers of their domains—kings of alien species—looked down at the floor.
They weren’t afraid of Jenonis.
They were afraid of the gods behind him.
Only two more nonconformists voted War.
Final tally: 11 for War, 14 for Defense.
Defense wins.
Aetrexa’s voice turned cold.
“The vote is complete. Defend our sacred land. Return and reinforce your cities. Prepare for the invasion.”
Fearmonger Dragon King:
“The Emperor knew this would happen from the start.”
Usher turned toward Orson and smirked.
“Can’t blame me for this one. Looks like we’ll be settling things after the meeting.”
Orson showed no emotion. His gaze remained fixed on Jenonis and Bairinador, the Empire’s top brass.
He was already picking out which parts of their bodies would make the best feed for Crimson Lizard King.
Jenonis’ feathers? Great for crafting.
Bairinador’s gear? Worth a fortune.
If the Empire’s leaders had made the wrong choice… then maybe it was time for an Empire without them.
Major Announcement:
Special Event [Supreme Council] has ended. In 30 days, Global War begins. Light Dragon Empire, Dark Dragon Empire, and Holy Light Church have voted to defend Infinite Dimensions.
Major Announcement:
US Region players who launch offensives will not receive support from Light Dragon Empire, Dark Dragon Empire, Elf Clans, Dwarf Factions, Barbarians, Snow Witches, etc.
Meanwhile, players battling world bosses in the capital were stunned.
“I’m gonna smack the crap out of you, you turtle-loving devs!”
“Defend what? Screw your grandma, I’m going out to raid and rob!”
“LMAO. We’re the biggest server, and we’re stuck on defense?!”
“NPCs must be trolling! War merits from defense? What a joke!”
Blank messaged Orson privately.
“This your idea?”
Orson groaned.
“Do I look like a wall ornament to you?”
“…Fair. So much for global conquest.”
Blank snorted.
“No NPCs? Fine. We’ll go without ’em.”
Orson sighed.
For him, the war meant little. The best rewards in the war shop were just divine Soul Seals and high-tier skill books—nothing he couldn’t get better elsewhere.
But for normal players, this was huge.
Global war brought bloodshed—and glory.
Many future legends would be born in the fires of PvP slaughter.
System Prompt:
Temporary Safe Zone will deactivate in 2 minutes.
You may now safely leave the area.
Alexander clenched his jaw, bowed slightly.
“Though the vote failed, the Lambert Family still follows your orders, Captain.”
Orson turned, grinning.
“In that case, how about a small favor? Lend me 20 million gold. I’ll pay you back someday.”
“…You’re hilarious.”
Alexander smiled stiffly.
“The Lambert family… doesn’t really do finance.”
“No wonder you’re dressed like a peasant. Tragic.”
Orson eyed him up and down, smirking at his basic gear.
Alexander blushed furiously, then beat a quick retreat before the safe zone lifted and Orson decided to test out his new staff.
Usher, lingering near the door, called out with fire in his eyes:
“I’ll be waiting outside, Orgod.”
Orson simply smiled.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be there.”
With three divine Soul Seals and an SS-class hidden class, Usher was a worthy opponent.
Usher left with a storm in his step.
Aetrexa met Orson at the hall’s exit, radiant and unshakable.
“You’re loyal to the wrong people,” Orson said, his tone quiet but sharp.
“The Empire isn’t your home. The Celestial Kingdom never was.”
She didn’t flinch.
“I don’t care who wears the crown,” she said. “I’m loyal to the soil beneath our feet.”
Orson blinked.
He’d misjudged her.
Nodding, he turned to leave.
Then a familiar, sleazy voice interrupted:
Bairinador:
“Hahaha… don’t be shy, beauty. Come closer, let me admire your pretty little face.”
His voice turned vicious:
“Displease me, and I’ll have your entire family executed.”
Orson paused.
Two dragon guards were dragging forward a silver-masked woman in chains, her wrists bound with Forbidden Magic cuffs.
She was the so-called “girl of atonement.”
Bairinador pulled her into his arms. She cried out softly, trying to resist. Her pale skin trembled, eyes glassy with tears.
She glanced toward Duke Xien, who stared at the floor in silence.
Sacrificing one woman—for family legacy—meant nothing to him. Especially since she was a political rival’s child.
“Orgod…”
“…I’m sorry.”
A soft whisper brushed Orson’s ear.
He froze.
And turned—his gaze snapping to the chained girl.