Global Warzone Channel:
Parlenzo (SteelWolf): "I am the President. All Maple Nation warriors, lay down your weapons. Godslayer is not our enemy. The true enemy comes from within!"
"Those who control your lives from the shadows, those warzone elites who live in luxury within underground shelters—they are not worthy of your loyalty!"
Parlenzo (SteelWolf): "May the Lord have mercy on me, and may the god born of Chaos bless you all. Amen!"
"Surrender? Did he just... surrender?!"
"...What the hell is going on?"
Global chat exploded in disbelief. Every Maple Nation adventurer stared at the screen, eyes wide and breath stuck in their throats.
Up until now, all they’d heard was that a premeditated attack had broken out at West Fortress. No one had expected the President to personally issue an order of surrender.
It made no sense. It went against all logic and precedent.
"First time I’ve set foot across the ocean. Why do none of you dare meet my eyes?"
Bradley stood high above millions of adventurers, perched atop one of Velorith’s massive dragon horns. His armor was caked in grime and blood from endless battle. His tiger-like eyes gleamed with a bloodthirsty edge.
Every gash in his warplate was a badge of honor from his battles against the remnants of the NUK corporate syndicates.
Now, the name Money Traveler sent shockwaves through warrior-type adventurers worldwide.
He had single-handedly defeated six Infinite Dimensions Dragon Knights and more than twenty S-rank Awakened from NUK—all dead at his hands.
He had become a wall of blades for warrior classes around the world.
Every single NUK executive had been hunted down and eliminated—without exception.
And now, he continued spreading the will of Godslayer.
Whatever stood in his path—flesh or soul—would be erased without mercy.
Some claimed only the fabled Twin Stars from the NR region could rival him.
From the shores of Rusina, Maple Nation adventurers looked up in dread at the incoming Celestial Fortress—thousands of goblin airships, magical warships, and Titan Mechs filled the sky.
Once arrogant and proud of their central position in the world, the people of Rusina were now forced to bow their heads.
Anger. Humiliation. Disbelief.
But what could they do?
Firepower is justice.
Violence is the most beautiful melody in this merged world.
"God... are you watching this?"
"They are demons from the abyss. Their ignorance and wickedness eat away at our resolve..."
"Have we really fallen so far that we can no longer fight back?"
The Maple Nation adventurers fell into despair. A kind of helplessness they hadn’t known since the days when other nations once suffered under their heel.
Now, it was their turn to feel it.
Parlenzo (Decoy #2): "That man is a fake! He’s no President—he’s a spy sent by a foreign warzone! Whoever kills him will be rewarded with 50 million gold coins by Rusina!"
Another Seven Thrones of Dominion floated high in the sky.
All eyes turned to it in stunned confusion. Their President appeared, donned in battle armor, standing tall and defiant—as if ready to fight alongside them.
It didn’t make sense.
Why the sudden change?
Still, the sight of their leader prepared to take the field rallied their hearts.
"Fight to the death!"
"Shameless! Using a fake president to fool us?!"
"I knew it! There’s no way the real President would kneel before some back-alley guild!"
Millions of adventurers raised their weapons and roared, their battle cries shaking the heavens.
Artillery along the coast locked onto the Celestial Fortress. No matter what, they refused to cower before Godslayer.
"Keep yelling! Just wait till the orders come down—I swear I’ll cleave you all in two!"
"Old Yin, get off the turret and let me blast these bastards to hell!"
The rogue guilds that had failed to assassinate SteelWolf earlier were chomping at the bit, weapons drawn and eyes bloodshot with rage.
"We are not your enemy. But if you choose to stand in my way—I’ll personally send you to meet God."
Bradley hovered in the sky atop Velorith, his tone cold and resolute.
He had long since shed the reckless bravado of his younger days. He was no longer a brute driven only by passion—but a warrior honed by fire and blood.
"I only hope... my death might bring peace."
Parlenzo #2 let out a long sigh.
A former Marine, he knew full well what stepping onto this battlefield meant.
He raised his blade toward the heavens, pointing it directly at Bradley.
"Even if you kill me here, Rusina will stand tall upon Earth—forever!"
But before he could finish his sentence, his words froze.
A legendary dagger pierced through his chest from behind.
Blood spilled from his mouth as he turned in disbelief, locking eyes with the one who had stabbed him.
"No reason. You’re from the Middle East warzone. Removing enemy spies is the duty of every Rusina citizen."
Trevor smirked and gave him a gentle push—kicking the corpse off the floating throne.
"What the hell just happened?"
"Did Trevor say he’s from the Middle East warzone?"
"Who do we believe now?!"
The battlefield fell into chaos. Nobody could think straight—like sheep suddenly robbed of their shepherd.
"You traitor, Trevor!"
"He’s been bought off by Godslayer—kill him!"
"I’ve always known he was rotten! Hang the bastard!"
Just as enraged adventurers surged toward Trevor, the body of Parlenzo #2 began to change.
"Wait... he really was fake! Look at his face! He’s a terrorist!"
The corpse began to shift—revealing Middle Eastern features, complete with a signature thick black beard.
Even in death, Parlenzo #2 could never have imagined that his own appearance would be what doomed his final words to disbelief.
"Executive Order from the President. Obey it."
Trevor retrieved the divine item, coldly throwing the line over his shoulder before disappearing into the shadows once more.
The adventurers along the shoreline grit their teeth but ultimately lowered their weapons, forced to watch the Godslayer army land unopposed.
"Are you kidding me?! We’re not fighting anymore? This is BS!"
"You promised us a last stand and now we just get to stand here and watch? Money Traveler, come on, let’s storm them!"
Bradley chuckled and shook his head.
"All part of the plan. Suck it up. The real war starts in a few hours."
He took a deep breath and looked toward the endless blue sky. Underneath him, Velorith shifted restlessly.
Even as an SS-rank Dragon Warrior, his limits lay somewhere above.
But beyond the skies, in the vast and unknowable void, there were monsters far beyond imagination.
Meanwhile, Madman and Blank regrouped the assassin corps and began sweeping the upper ranks of Maple Nation’s leadership, backed by Trevor and supported by Orson’s direct coordinates.
Avoiding high-level defensive targets, they slipped deep into enemy territory to eliminate key figures.
SteelWolf stuck to the script, repeatedly broadcasting the "President’s orders" across all channels.
More fake Parlenzos emerged, making public statements that only threw the warzone into further disarray.
Over 200 million Maple Nation adventurers ran around like headless chickens—one moment east, the next west—completely unable to tell friend from foe.
Two hours later, six out of the seven Seven Thrones of Dominion had been secured.
With them, most of the Maple Nation’s Infinite Dimensions control authority was now in Orson’s hands.
Only one throne remained—and its location had already been revealed.