The merging of worlds ahead of schedule.
It hit Orson like a thunderclap, sending a chill down every nerve.
He understood exactly what this meant.
Once the real world fused with Infinite Dimensions, players would transform into "trial-takers."
Their game characters would merge with their real bodies. Flesh, soul, and senses would all undergo profound changes.
Orson knew—deeply—that while Infinite Dimensions' resurrection couldn't cure terminal illnesses, the merging of worlds could.
The disabled, the gravely ill—anyone whose soul remained intact—would be reborn.
After all, Infinite Dimensions was the forge of the gods.
It didn't want hollow husks clinging to life. It wanted weapons—humanoid weapons to wage war across the cosmos.
It was the last shred of mercy the gods offered to mortals.
But it also meant those terrifying creatures—tireless, deathless, devouring all matter—would return.
Trial-takers would be forced into endless bloodshed against the Heaven Demon, clawing their way up the food chain as living weapons of the gods.
Yes, the top players of this timeline were vastly stronger than they'd been by the same point in his past life.
They'd reached heights in six months that once took a year or two.
But it still wasn't enough.
Especially for the ordinary players at the bottom of the food chain.
Their progress had been minimal.
When the Heaven Demon descended, they wouldn't even have the power to struggle.
Many were only here because of Orson and the US government's push.
They'd recently flooded into Infinite Dimensions—newbies with beginner weapons, asked to stand against monsters the size of mountains?
They weren't even cannon fodder.
Orson personally escorted Sienna to the ambulance, then shut himself in a room alone.
Smoke curled around him.
His cigarette never left his hand.
At last, the Archmage of Infinite Dimensions showed his fatigue.
"Weaponization Process: 78%."
The system voice cut through the haze.
Orson crushed the cigarette.
By his original plan, he was going to stop pushing his power after securing the Heavenly Spirit's Heart.
He'd planned to use the upcoming world wars to violently suppress the Weaponization Process of other regions' elites, delaying the merge as long as possible.
That would buy normal players more time—a slim chance.
But now Sienna was in danger.
"To save one person… am I really going to throw billions into hell? Is it worth it?"
He kept asking himself.
A bitter clarity settled in.
"Ocular Demon nesting inside Laketon… that must be why."
Laketon had tried again and again to get Orson to bring him to the world's anchor.
It was hard to believe he wanted to protect some hidden realm. More likely, he planned sabotage.
A twisted Immortal Slave didn't just want to tag along.
He was waiting for the chance to break everything.
Orson murmured it to himself.
He'd made his choice.
Got straight to the point. "K.D., you have three days."
"What? What are you talking about, Orson? Three days for what?"
Confusion was clear in K.D.'s voice.
"Three days from now, the end starts. Use whatever you've got—protect those clueless people while you still can."
Orson's face was dark, voice solemn.
Silence on the other end.
At last, K.D. spoke, hoarse and weary, sounding like he'd aged a decade.
It caught painfully in Orson's throat.
He never cared about titles—Infinite Dimensions' number one, the Archmage of Infinite Dimensions.
He didn't bother with excuses.
All he knew was that Sienna was his reason for rising from the dead.
He'd once been so arrogant, thinking he alone could carry humanity on his shoulders.
Now he saw how wrong he'd been.
Who would survive this catastrophe?
That would depend on how badly people wanted to live.
A new trial-taker, fresh out of the starter zone, faced with a demon bigger than a fortress—what hope did they have?
History was repeating itself.
This time there were even more players than in the end days of his past life.
But somehow… nothing seemed to have changed.
K.D.'s voice was barely a whisper.
Orson hung up, climbed into his game pod, and closed his eyes.
When the screen brightened, he was back in the manor.
Blank stood waiting. As he'd instructed, only she had accompanied Sienna to the hospital. The rest were here, waiting for him to log in.
Orson looked at his brothers and sisters—Godslayer's heart.
He couldn't meet their eyes.
"I've made a terrible decision. I hope you can forgive me."
"Bullshit!" Bradley exploded.
"If it's a mistake, then it's our mistake. If the sky falls, we'll hold it up together!"
Madman shook his head, walking over to clap Orson's shoulder.
"Sienna will be fine. I swear it."
"Boss—who's the target? Tell us. I'll put my head on the block for you!"
Everyone's eyes burned.
Their bonds were forged in blood. Orson knew them—knew they'd never let him stand alone.
"But you might die for real. Truly die."
Orson's voice cracked.
These core members all knew at least rumors that Orson—Orgod—could use magic in the real world.
They'd guessed long ago this was bigger than it seemed.
Orson didn't joke. If he said it was real death, they believed him.
Divine Slash threw his head back and laughed.
"Ha! I was just a dirt-poor factory worker. If I hadn't joined Godslayer, what good life would I have had?"
"To die after living … worth every drop of blood!"
Infinite Dimensions had given them a second life.
Nobodies became legends, climbing toward godhood.
And Orson was the one who led them.
Their gratitude ran deeper than words.
Orson's eyes burned. He bowed low.
He knew they weren't ready.
But he also knew—they wouldn't let him down.
The indomitable spirit of Godslayer would ignite their souls.
They would kill countless demons, rise to challenge the gods themselves.
"Do what you have to. I trust you. We all trust you."
Bradley locked eyes with him, just like when they first entered Infinite Dimensions.
"This place is yours now, brother."
Orson took a deep breath.
Their clasped hands gave each other all the strength they'd ever need.
"Guild channel: Leadership changed! Vice-leader Money Traveler is now the new leader of[Godslayer]!"
The notification echoed in every ear.
Bradley's eyes went wide. "What the hell? Why give me leader? Where are you going?"
He raised a hand—Battle Space tore open.
At the same moment, he summoned the blood contracts, transferring all the king-tier NPC contracts to Bradley.
Bradley shouted. It sounded like Orson was saying goodbye.
Everyone stared as Aeloria landed outside the manor.
Orson glanced at Laketon lurking nearby.
"I hope you don't make me regret this."
"Heh… a wise choice."
His body turned translucent.
Together, he and Orson mounted Aeloria's back.
Their destination: Starter Village 3313.
Where the Golden Divine Pillar stood.
Wind howled against his face.
Orson was calm, but a sense of doom gnawed at him.
Destroying the Golden Divine Pillar to force the merge would only be the beginning.
And the Heavenly Spirit's Heart quest was no simple task. It demanded he go alone into the first crypt—failure meant a punishment too terrible to contemplate.
He needed a failsafe.
If he didn't survive, Godslayer couldn't be left leaderless.
Bradley was the obvious choice—no one else matched his strength, his honor, his loyalty.
No one else deserved the throne.