"Conscience? Wow, the mighty Megacaster actually owns something that rare?" Blank teased, eyes narrowing in disbelief.
"Ahem… occasionally," Orson coughed awkwardly, hiding his embarrassment behind the skull mask.
"Blank and the Triple Crown winner?! That's outrageous! My goddess… defiled!"
"Orgod, you bastard! How dare you lay hands on Blank?! I swear I'll kill you—somebody help me up!"
Slaughter Spree, reduced to nothing but a talking head, had seen red. Watching Blank fall into "the clutches of evil," he howled nonstop in guild chat.
But all Orson heard was:
"Woof woof woof woof~~~~"
"Awoo!! Glory to Orgod!!"
"Orson makes his move and instantly wins over Slaughter's top assassin! That's the weight of a Triple Crown winner!"
"Rejoice, and bow down before our guild master's jeans!"
Overhead, five Titan Mech pilots led by Wild Gale swooped into the battlefield, howling their signature Godslayer wolf-cry.
Blank shoved Orson's hand away, her face hidden behind a mask but the red tips of her ears giving everything away. She wanted to vanish into a hole.
"I've got this. You're just in the way," she snapped, glaring at him—only making Orson grin wider.
"You'll pay for this, Kingslayer! I'm not my father—I won't go easy on you!"
Preston bared his bloodied teeth, the Spirit Tribe prince ready to strike like a coiled viper.
"Sometimes, it's smarter to play to your strengths. Going toe-to-toe with a high-IQ NPC? You're not gonna win solo. So…"
Orson's voice carried a hint of amusement as he offered Blank a gentle reminder: "Use the team. That's how you get stronger."
"Slaughter mages, eyes on me."
Over two hundred earth-element mages lit up like beacons, all eyes fixed on the legend before them. In Infinite Dimensions, no matter your guild, every mage had the same endgame: follow him.
"All earth mages, cast C-Class spell: Earth Collapse!"
Orson marked ten strike zones on the minimap without missing a beat. The casters didn't hesitate. Staffs glowed, and one by one, hexagrams formed like fireflies in the air.
Individually, they were nothing—but a swarm of sparks could set the world ablaze.
The battlefield rumbled violently. Earth cracked and crumbled as though precision bombs had been dropped.
Preston's expression twisted. The ground collapsed in every direction, boxing him in.
"You think this'll stop me?" he barked with a laugh. "Cheap trick, you lowborn trash!"
Blank frowned. "He's got a flight relic. Your title's suppression won't work."
Orson raised a hand calmly. "Wind mages, cast B-Class spell: Wild Gale Cataclysm!"
The spell was rare, but Slaughter Guild had the depth. Dozens of glowing teal sigils bloomed midair.
Tempest winds surged, spiraling like millstones pressing downward.
The B-Class skill didn't deal high damage, but it was perfect for disabling flight.
Preston's smirk faded.
He flared his flight relic, hovering—but barely a few meters off the ground.
"Not good," he muttered, enveloping himself in radiant light to trigger Body Domination, trying to retreat back to friendly lines.
"He's running!" Blank snapped, moving to chase—but Orson raised a hand.
"He's not going anywhere."
Orson's tone was emotionless, a glint of mischief in his eyes as the God-Emperor Earrings shimmered beside his ears.
Dimensional Rift: Open.
Blank blinked—and suddenly she was in his arms, teleported deep behind enemy lines.
"You… idiot!" she gasped.
They were surrounded by hostile imperial NPCs. It felt like walking into a tiger's den.
"You've walked into your own death!" Preston roared, pouncing with a swarm of attacks flooding in.
"Go cut him down. I've got your back," Orson said, unshaken.
"???" Blank was speechless.
"Stop dawdling. He can't use Body Domination again. Chain him down and finish it," Orson said, smiling.
She didn't even know what to say anymore. But seeing the certainty in his expression, she didn't hesitate—she attacked.
Steel rang out. Sparks flew.
Orson instantly swapped to his Chaos Overlord form.
Wind God's Sigh lifted him into the air, and with a sharp snap of his fingers:
Azure frost surged out in waves, locking down Preston midair. His arms froze.
Blank ignored the storm of skills behind her and threw an Enchanted Black Powder Bomb—a rare knock-up tool for rogues.
Preston was knocked off balance.
Blank followed up with a flurry of rapid strikes.
Meanwhile, imperial priests moved to support Preston.
"Kill the Kingslayer! One million gold reward!"
They cast high-tier spells to counter the freezing effects and began draining Orson's mana.
In a blink, Orson lost over 3 million HP from the focused fire.
"Shit! Did he overextend?!"
"Priests! Heal him now! If he dies, our vice leader's screwed too!"
"Heal with what?! Who's got that kind of range?! Dammit, stop posturing!"
Slaughter players panicked. Several priests tried to push forward—but were instantly backstabbed by Spirit Tribe assassins. Twenty fell.
"Calm down. He's fine."
Wild Gale detonated a Rage Bomb, blowing up a wave of NPCs. He didn't even blink.
"Stay on mission. The enemy's surrounded by our guild master. We've got the advantage."
"ADVANTAGE?! You call this an advantage?! He's getting swarmed!"
"You said no flexing—we'd be allies. And now your boss is flexing so hard he's about to explode!"
Wild Gale didn't answer. He raised his frost greatsword and kept shielding the backline.
"You're draining my mana? Good luck with that," Orson muttered, eyes dark.
He stared back at the mages siphoning his mana.
They didn't realize who they were messing with.
With personal base stats and equipment boosts, Orson had over 800,000 MP. A true arcane monster.
His depleted mana bar shot back to full.
Whisper of the Wind activated. Despite the pressure, Orson stood his ground and cast.
He didn't use flashy skills. Under heavy fire, any big cast would just get interrupted.
Instead, he lifted his Supreme Arcane Blade and pointed.
Amid the tide of spells, the orb looked underwhelming—but its effects left every Slaughter player stunned.
"OMG! He's draining over a million HP per second?! Is this guy a vampire?!"
"Someone record this—he's a walking blood pump!"
Slaughter players stood frozen, jaws on the ground.
Wild Gale sighed. "I warned you. Don't worry about him. Worry about yourselves."
Orson's Chaos Talent and War Supreme set granted 30% lifesteal. Even with reduced healing debuffs from enemy priests, he still maintained around 20%.
Add in his 31x crit multiplier? Every Chaos Magic Ball turned into a self-healing cannon.
Chaos Chain triggered!
Dark energy spread, locking down dozens of imperial soldiers.
True Damage triggered!
Ethereal Echoes triggered!
Lifesteal +1.3 million!
Lifesteal +1.1 million!
His HP bar flickered like a glitch—every time it dropped, it immediately bounced back.
He tanked the front line solo, turning himself into a human fortress.
But the enemy wasn't dumb. High-level NPCs began casting large-scale crowd control spells.
The ground rumbled. Blinding blades erupted from below.
Orson grinned. "Time for backup."
Crimson Lizard King, aka Brother Meng, tore through space, roaring into the sky.
Wings wide, it tanked the entire wave of CC with ease—its legendary tenacity made it immune to such effects.
Its blood-red eyes swept the battlefield, a king among beasts.
Flames billowed in its throat—
Dragon Breath of Death.
Screams echoed. Four to five hundred NPCs turned into blazing corpses, rolling across the scorched earth.
Orson kicked off the ground, soaring upward. The dragon caught him mid-air.
Standing atop his dragon, the Supreme Arcane Blade floated before him.
Awakening: Eclipse of the Underworld!
Darkness fell. Senses faded.
A massive black sphere swallowed thousands of NPCs whole.
In just thirty seconds, all that remained was a wasteland of bones and ghosts—only a dozen Domain Lords survived.
Slaughter Guild players stood frozen, stunned by the apocalyptic scene.
Meanwhile, Blank showed no mercy. Her blade flashed cold, and in a clean stroke—
Prince Preston collapsed, true damage bleeding him out. Blank wiped her dagger clean and coolly sheathed it.
"Funny," Orson said, turning back to look at her. "So did I."
Blank turned as well—and saw the field of bones, mouths agape, cheeks burning.
The difference between them wasn't big…
It was another dimension entirely.