Watching the distant battle unfold was none other than Usher, leader of the Dragon’s Kiss Guild.
From afar, Usher and Orson exchanged cold, silent glares. Though not a word was spoken, the mutual hatred was palpable, as if they each longed to tear a piece from the other.
“Let’s go,” Usher said calmly, turning away from the city walls with his entourage.
“How strong is he?” Usher asked, directing his question to a Level 21 Archer clad in unassuming blue gear, known as Strategic Trickster.
“Very strong,” Trickster replied, his expression grave. “Strong enough to make me question the game’s balance.”
He continued, “Though I couldn’t determine his exact health, his confidence in facing a siege without flinching suggests his HP is higher than most first-tier mages.”
Usher nodded, his thoughts aligning with Trickster’s assessment. Most mages prioritized free attribute points in attack or mana, neglecting health. However, Orson, equipped with heroic gear, clearly surpassed the average mage in durability.
“What about his other capabilities?” Usher probed.
Strategic Trickster’s brows furrowed as he responded, “Top-tier in both skill and game awareness. Far superior to Ivy, especially in his use of abilities. It’s almost unbelievable.”
He elaborated, “I’ve seen Earth Mages use Quaking Stone Spikes, but none as precisely as Orgod. His combat intuition is extraordinary—he manipulated the Saint Slayer Syndicate like children, luring their rogues into traps with surgical precision, leaving them no way out.”
“This is just a phase,” snapped Ivy, irritated by the comparison.
Trickster remained unfazed, clarifying, “I’m only stating facts.”
Usher’s face darkened. A proud man, he prided himself on skills approaching professional standards. Yet, compared to Orson, he felt almost amateurish.
“I see,” Usher finally said.
Strategic Trickster smirked knowingly. A tactician with a decorated background in strategy games and analytics, Trickster had been personally recruited by Usher for this reason.
“From the information gathered,” Trickster explained, “it’s clear he possesses a God-tier Soul Seal. It enhances range and mana, though it’s unclear if it boosts attack or critical stats.”
“A God-tier Soul Seal!?” gasped Ivy and Skyslasher, their expressions shifting to envy and disbelief.
Such an item was a coveted dream for all players, yet its acquisition remained an unsolved mystery. Even Usher, with his immense wealth and connections within Infinite Dimensions’ official circles, had failed to uncover reliable methods for obtaining one.
“Indeed,” Trickster confirmed. “I’ve seen Lord-class Soul Seals that boost mage range by up to 300 meters, but I’d estimate Epic-tier ones don’t go much higher than that.”
“Wait,” Usher interrupted, his brow furrowing. “I understand the range boost, but what about his mana?”
Trickster replied, “Based on his Blazing Burn talent’s passive damage output, his base mana is over 40,000.”
“Forty… thousand?” Ivy’s voice quivered as she glanced at her own mana stat: 4,000.
And that was with her equipped in high-mana heroic gear. Orson’s unarmored mana pool was over ten times hers.
“You’ve got to be joking!” Skyslasher shouted, grabbing Trickster by the collar. “Forty thousand mana—he has more than a boss?”
Trickster sneered, brushing off the accusation. “Believe me or don’t. Ask any Fire Mage for confirmation if you dare.”
“Enough,” Usher barked, his icy tone cutting through the commotion. Skyslasher grudgingly released his grip.
“What precautions should we take against him? Explain everything,” Usher demanded.
Feeling the weight of Usher’s resolve, Trickster smirked knowingly. “Though he appears to master all four elements, his damage primarily comes from his fire talent’s passive abilities.”
He leaned in conspiratorially. “My advice? Stock up on fire resistance potions and gear. Force him into melee situations where his fire damage becomes less effective. If we overwhelm him with sheer numbers, he can’t win.”
“Good. That’s what I intended,” Usher said, nodding approvingly. From his inventory, he pulled out a green Soul Seal and offered it to Trickster.
“This is yours. Join my guild.”
The gesture left the surrounding players stunned.
“Boss… are you serious?” Skyslasher stammered, horrified. “That Soul Seal cost you 10,000 gold!”
Ivy’s brows knit tightly as she added, “It’s a perfect match for your S-tier Anti-Magic Archer build. Giving it away is a waste!”
Usher dismissed their concerns with a scoff. “So what? Orson wields a God-tier Soul Seal—do you think I’m any less capable?”
In his hands, the Epic-tier Soul Seal seemed almost worthless. But to others, it was a treasure worth killing for.
“I love doing business with decisive people!” Trickster exclaimed, eyes gleaming with joy.
For this Soul Seal, he had willingly disbanded his own guild and joined Dragon’s Kiss Guild.
Meanwhile, Orson was oblivious to how deeply his abilities were being analyzed. He was still looting the battlefield with Bradley.
“That was brutal! Saint Slayer Syndicate almost got wiped out by just two people…”
“No,” another player interjected. “There were three. That quiet priest might also be a hidden master!”
“He must be! Anyone rolling with Orgod can’t be an ordinary player.”
Hearing this, Female Dorm God blushed furiously, straightened his posture, and tried to look imposing. “I’m a secret weapon—I need to exude confidence and avoid dragging Orgod down!”
“Damn it, their treasurer escaped. Otherwise, we could’ve claimed the bounty,” Bradley lamented, his voice tinged with regret.
The Saint Slayer Syndicate had taken on a 4,000-gold contract to hunt Orson. Even if they failed, they’d pocketed at least a quarter of that amount as a non-refundable deposit.
However, Infinite Dimensions’ current strict storage rules meant most players, even red-named ones, carried their wealth and items in their inventory. Killing them was the only way to recover it.
After some scavenging, the spoils amounted to only a few hundred gold and a pile of junk equipment.
“They can’t have gone far. This money is our guild fund—I’m not letting it slip away,” Orson said, smiling faintly.
“Still,” Bradley said, frowning, “revival points have no imperial guards. They could just hide in the safe zone.”
Then the world channel erupted with insults.
Saint Slayer Water God: “Fake match-fixer! Come on, you think you’re tough? Meet me at Pondenorlin City’s revival point!”
SS Little V: “Everyone knows Orgod is trash who only bullies noobs. Against international teams, he chokes like a dog!”
Saint Slayer Water God: “We’ll target your guild members next. Especially those cute little girls—bet they’ll cry for mercy!”
“I’ll butcher them!” Bradley roared, livid.
The world channel soon became a cesspool of insults, with many players joining the bandwagon to mock Orson.
“How about we let them bark for a bit longer?” Orson said calmly.
“Why?” Bradley asked, puzzled.
Orson smiled mysteriously, holding up a Southeast Ward Fragment, the key to bypassing Pondenorlin City’s barrier. “Because we’re going hunting.”