Everyone's hearts trembled.
Nightshade looked up at Orson and gave a solemn nod.
"Forever City will stand. Always."
"Activate the Moonstone Array!"
"Bring all Obelisks online!"
The Godslayer command team, prepared long in advance, roared their orders.
Atop the ridgeline, the obsidian-black Obelisks lit up one after another. A massive crescent-shaped artifact, nearly 100 meters wide, ascended into the sky.
It sounded like an ancient war engine powering up. Strange lights surged across the Moonstone's surface as it floated to the center of the Obelisk formation.
"Holy crap, that's way too many Obelisks."
"Wait… is that the Prism Tower from that ancient RTS game?"
"If I'm not mistaken, the Moonstone massively amplifies Obelisks. It'd take an entire guild at least six months to build this thing!"
Everyone was stunned. The Obelisks didn't fire directly at the enemy but instead focused all their beams onto the Moonstone.
Brilliant light exploded across its surface like a miniature sun.
In seconds, the Moonstone released seventy-seven searing beams of elemental energy. Each beam's area and damage output had been drastically magnified.
Explosions rippled across the battlefield. Screams of agony rang out from the Imperial ranks.
Dust clouded the air. Limbs flew. Armor was shredded. NPCs were torn to pieces.
Critical Hit - 900,000!
Splash Damage - 300,000!
Critical Hit - 900,000!
Five seconds later, the Obelisks roared again. Their firing rate had tripled, beams once again converging onto the Moonstone.
The Imperial army fell into chaos. They hadn't even laid eyes on the enemy and already suffered catastrophic losses. Nearly a thousand soldiers were dead or crippled.
Their eyes were blank, feet frozen. Panic set in.
Nobody wanted to die helplessly.
"Imperial Guard! Shield wall!"
High above, Aetrexa roared. Her Holy Light Dragon released a powerful S-rank defensive field.
Her elite guards showed no fear as they raised their tower shields and formed an impenetrable wall.
With health and defense far beyond ordinary NPCs, they managed to endure the second wave of elemental blasts.
"All kings, charge with me! Bring me the Godslayer's head!"
Aetrexa bellowed, leading the charge as royal-level NPCs surged toward Orson with overwhelming pressure.
"I already told you," Orson said, eyes flashing coldly, "This will be your grave!"
Hurricane Spear materialized in his hand.
"You killed my son. You'll pay for it with your life."
A sudden voice hissed at Orson's back. A ghostly presence appeared behind him.
"Watch out! It's Ku'Jalai, the Spirit King of Light!"
Blank cried out, panic rising, as she raced forward on a glowing spectral beast.
Orson reacted instinctively, hurling his spear backward.
But Ku'Jalai—the so-called Assassin God of Infinite Dimensions—had been waiting in the shadows for this moment.
With a blur, he dodged the spear like it was child's play.
"You filthy rat hiding in the dark, get lost!"
Crimson Lizard King roared in rage, transforming into humanoid form and drawing his bone sword.
"The Spirit Tribe is just as ancient as the dragons. My ancestors once felled your kind," Ku'Jalai sneered.
He vanished into Moonstep, moving faster than the eye could track.
His body turned ethereal—he phased right through Crimson Lizard King and lunged toward Orson.
Ku'Jalai snarled, stabbing with his Artifact dagger [Draconic Fang – Broken], forged from the tooth of a legendary dragon.
It pierced Orson's body, black flames erupting from the blade.
Crippling Blow - 4,000,000!
Blank's heart dropped into her stomach.
She had inherited the legacy of the Dark Spirit Tribe—she knew exactly what that dagger was. There were two of them, one ignoring defense reduction, the other dealing %HP-burning Dragonfire.
The one in Ku'Jalai's hand was the latter.
And the dragon whose fang it came from? Very likely an ancestor of Crimson Lizard King.
Orson's body ignited, as if thrown into a crematorium.
Ku'Jalai's smile vanished, eyes wide in disbelief.
"You seriously thought fire would kill me?"
Orson's face twisted into a mocking grin.
"That dagger's material came from a dead god, didn't it? No way your tribe ever killed a Dragon God yourselves."
Ku'Jalai's pride shattered.
It was true—legends don't write themselves. But was that power earned… or scavenged?
Orson suspected that dagger came from the apocalyptic Dragon War and was reforged without any divine enhancements—perfect for assassination, yes, but ultimately lacking.
"I'm just a lowly mage," Orson smirked. "It is hard for me to kill an assassin… but…"
"...you've been waiting for me to walk into your trap.
I've been waiting for you too, Ku'Jalai—great, soon-to-die Spirit King of Light."
"Shut your mouth! You'll die here, Godslayer!"
Ku'Jalai slashed again—
A second blade met his.
Ku'Jalai recoiled. Standing between him and Orson was a figure nearly identical to himself, clad in black and wielding a dagger glowing with ghostly light.
"It's time we ended our thousand-year feud, brother."
The black veil lifted.
It was Haris, twin brother of Ku'Jalai—Dark Spirit King.
Twin monarchs. Fated enemies.
"Brother killing brother… how sad. Let me help you end this," Orson whispered, freefalling from the sky.
He landed with flawless grace, cloak billowing.
"For the fallen king! For vengeance!"
Aetrexa and five other kings encircled him.
Far away, Rockforce, the Earth King, began chanting an SS-rank sand-based Forbidden Curse—hoping to bury the entire battlefield.
"I need help," Orson said calmly. He didn't retreat. He walked toward them.
"This madman… he's going to fight a quasi-God and four kings alone?!"
Blank clenched her fists, stepping forward.
"Hm? Oh no, not you," Orson glanced over his shoulder with a wicked smile.
"You'd only get in the way, Miss Blue."
"I… I won't hold you back!"
Blank protested, though she knew he was right.
But she didn't want to watch him throw his life away.
"I believe the future belongs to you all," Orson smiled.
"But this moment? It still belongs to me."
Crimson Lizard King grunted, swatting Blank aside like a fly with a sweep of his wing.
She flew back hundreds of meters, barely catching herself atop the wall.
Nightshade nodded toward Orson with steely resolve.
"Answer me, gods from beyond the void!"
He raised his arms, as if lifting some invisible, indescribable weight.
With a crashing sound, the Godslayer guild's vault opened.
A rain of equipment began falling into the air, forming a breathtaking pillar of light above his head.
"Holy shit… is that a Divine Cache?"
"This is nuts! Just one of those items could make you rich! How loaded is Godslayer?!"
The livestream chat went wild.
It was a treasure hoard enough to drive any guild in Infinite Dimensions insane.
Together, they formed a breathtaking celestial spectacle.
A level-50 legendary shoulderplate shattered. A shimmering wisp of light shot into the swirling void above.
Two blurry figures flickered in the air.
Between them curled a tiny goblin—arms wrapped around his knees like an unborn child, nestled in the dark.
"The god of Waaagh is pleased with your gift."
"The god of Grrraaagh is pleased with your gift."
Cackling laughter echoed.
Nightshade's eyes burned with fanaticism. He clenched his fists and bellowed:
"Legend among goblins!
Mad bomber among bombers!
The boss of all bosses!"
"Goblin Five-Star General — Grand Marshal Pajero!"