Just like he'd warned her from the start, Orson couldn't promise her anything—not even the simple safety a lover should provide.
"I... I'll be steadfast until death, if... if you love me," Blank whispered, her beautiful eyes filled with solemn resolve.
"But my love is cheap," Orson replied with a bitter smile. He carried the weight of an entire world on his shoulders; he couldn't guarantee her anything.
Blank's brows knitted with quiet determination. Deep inside, she murmured, "I don't care... if you become a sinner, I'll be the one to atone for you."
Then, the God-tier assassin put her dark Spirit Tribe mask back on, gripping the hand reaching up from the abyss without hesitation.
As the sky turned pale, the world chat finally quieted.
Light Dragon Empire's major cities began repairs. For most, last night felt like a dream.
But it was a night destined to be etched into Infinite Dimensions history. In just six hours, entire towns of Npcs were slaughtered and replaced over and over.
In the real world, life slowly returned to normal—except that countless players woke up rich overnight. Many corporate wage slaves simply didn't show up again.
Business districts saw new signs, guild clubs popped up everywhere, and countless nobodies who once slaved away in quiet corners of Infinite Dimensions suddenly became local legends.
There were winners—and losers.
Several old powerhouse guilds failed to be ruthless enough, were ambushed by rivals, lost not only loot but also morale. Their core players quickly scattered, chasing money elsewhere.
Meanwhile, corporate-backed guilds who'd tasted victory began pouring in massive investments.
With so many new high-tier class trials revealed, these powerhouses launched a cold, calculated arms race. They smelled the perfect chance to finally surpass Godslayer.
Their eyes weren't on the table scraps of slaughtered imperial Npcs.
Those were just low-tier troops, dropping decent but ultimately limited loot—leftovers from Godslayer's feast.
What they wanted was far bigger:
If pillaging a single US zone's Npcs paid this well, what about the other 76 regions in Infinite Dimensions?
That was where the real riches lay.
Meanwhile, under Madman and Bradley's lead, the Godslayer coalition rampaged through seventeen major cities, unstoppable, bulldozing their way straight to the imperial capital.
There was barely any resistance.
The empire's elite forces had all died at Forever City. The minor troops left behind were no match for Velorith, Quarla, or the Celestial Fortress's raw power.
Npcs dropped not only loot, but insane EXP.
Godslayer's main combatants jumped 5-10 levels each. The average level broke past 60, with some nearing 70—so far beyond typical guild elites that two-thirds of the entire level rankings were now Godslayer members.
Grinding monsters simply couldn't compare to massacring Npcs—especially during an internal war, where killing them didn't even raise Infamy.
By dawn, the services from those very Npcs were still available as if nothing had happened.
As for gear, Soul Seals, enchanted relics—like Madman said, "We did a year's worth of work in one damn night."
Per their agreements, allied guilds took a share of the spoils, but Godslayer claimed 50% and had first pick.
When all was tallied up, they'd secured 19 pieces of level 60-100 Forbidden Magic-tier gear or accessories, and an eye-popping 3,020 legendary items.
Heroic-tier gear was counted by complete sets:
1,160 full six-piece sets, and 2,100 three-piece sets.
Because the empire's army was structured in standardized units, it meant a high probability of dropping matching set items.
Plus there were mountains of crafting mats, Lord-class and higher Soul Seals, rare quest items, and skill books—too much to sort in just a few days.
Madman's plan was to stash all level 80+ legendary and Forbidden Magic-tier items in the guild vault, waiting until most members reached 80 before distribution.
With the wealth they'd amassed, the days of scraping by for gear while relying on charisma to recruit talent were over.
Godslayer would expand again.
"We'll start trickling soulstones onto the market, spark demand by letting players burn through their gold on gear upgrades," Madman grinned in the manor hall.
Orson just rubbed his temples.
He hated micromanaging this stuff.
Madman cackled, surrounded by six leggy assistants. They breezed by with so much confidence it was practically visible.
Lauren had hand-picked these beauties to help Madman drive guild profits.
No wonder he couldn't stop grinning.
If it were up to him, he'd swap all these bombshell assistants for greasy, foot-scratching meatheads—just so his bros wouldn't feel left out.
"You dare kiss another one, see what happens!"
Ruby, the little loli, stood among the bombshells, jealousy pouring off her. She jumped on Madman's back, yanking his hair.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
Madman howled. No pain sensors in-game, sure—but he knew this was just the foreplay before real agony.
"Finally... we can start paying off Chaos Sect's debt."
Orson exhaled deeply.
They'd already worked out a deal with Slaughter, Supreme Guild, and other allies:
high-tier gear would either be used or hoarded for the future.
If dumped all at once, it would crater the US market, making everyone's hard work worthless.
For now, the priority was offloading the soulstones shipped in from the UJ region.
In this frenzy, even mid-grade soulstones were selling for 60 gold each.
Orson had 800,000 of them—worth roughly 48 million gold.
But if dumped too quickly, prices would tank.
They'd need people monitoring the auction house 24/7, offloading when prices rose, even buying up small lots when prices dipped—until every last stone was sold.
With the leftover money from his recent property sales, the debts would be covered.
"Seriously… I try to pay off the guild's debts, and the second there's trouble, you bastards all ghost me?"
Orson frowned, opening his friends list.
Sienna was still online.
What hidden quest took this long?
He was also Chaos Sect Leader now.
He could summon the damaged Chaos Cauldron, cultists, or even the Blazewalker brothers at will.
But last night, in the heat of the fight with Misius, they'd all mysteriously vanished.
If not for being tied up, he'd have hunted them down at the brothels and chopped off Fosset's tiny bird on the spot.
"Orson, log off now! Something's wrong with Sienna!"
Blank's urgent voice snapped him from his thoughts.
A chill ran up his spine as he noticed Sienna's green status indicator had turned red.
"What happened? Tell me!" he forced out.
"I... I don't know. Just hurry and log off!"
"Alright, I'm coming."
Heart racing, Orson hung up.
Just then, Bradley came barreling in, sparks literally trailing him.
"Jenonis—the old bird blew up his own body! Right before, that ghostly angel showed up again and left a message. She said…"
Bradley went pale, trailing off. Even he could hardly believe it.
"Stop stalling—spit it out!"
Orson's eyes locked on him like blades.
"She said… she said Sienna is fated to die!"