The sky thundered with war cries and rolling drums.
The very world of Infinite Dimensions quaked under the march of the Godslayer legion. Rival guilds abandoned their grudges to unite, all throwing themselves at a common foe.
“The US region is about to flip the entire world on its head,” SirLagsALot laughed, clutching his forehead, the sound wild and untamed.
“This might be the first time in global esports history that an entire server region will be dictated by the players themselves,” the female caster sighed in awe.
One player who could slay a God—what kind of revolution would that spark?
The world finally understood just how terrifying Infinite Dimensions’ freedom could be.
With enough power and unity, even the once-mighty NPCs were nothing but ants.
Beasts roared. War cries split the heavens. Magic lit up the sky. Nothing could halt this slaughter.
With the Forbidden Curse Divine Dragon Seal unleashed, the souls of the imperial kings trembled.
Only twelve remained, locked in place, forced to watch their own kin die under these merciless player warlords.
Bradley surged with lightning, a living Thunder God, his dragon breath tearing through ranks of imperial NPCs as if pulling weeds. Blood and death followed wherever he went.
“I surrender… please, stop!”
Dwarf King Enderoth’s soul echoed out. With Misius dead and the Archangel sealed, he knew the tide had irreversibly turned.
Bradley glanced over his shoulder, indifferent, before zipping forward, still mowing down imperial soldiers.
“Push past Purple Thunder Fortress. Wipe every imperial noble’s land clean.”
Madman’s voice was icy. Mounted on Quarla, with the last Titan Mechs lumbering behind, he charged toward the towns around Purple Thunder Fortress, determined to pour vengeance into every inch of enemy soil.
“Lead them. Crack the cities open.”
Orson tossed Berenice into the air. Ignis carried her off toward the major capitals of the Light Dragon Empire.
With Berenice’s boost—and the empire’s elites already crushed—no local force could hope to stop the player alliance.
Orson drafted an NPC whitelist, broadcasting it on the regional horn to keep allied NPCs from being mistaken as targets.
“A curfew? Hah… these dumb NPCs think shutting down their cities will keep them safe?”
“Brothers, time to cause some chaos—Godslayer will break them from the inside, we’ll smash them from without!”
“Watch me drive the price of legendary sets into the dirt—soon every US player will have one!”
Meanwhile, players heeding Orgod’s call logged in droves. They poured into cities and towns across the empire, attacking any NPC in sight.
War spread like wildfire across the Light Dragon Empire. Smoke blotted out the sky.
The imperial armies broke rank. Against these undying enemies, defeat was only a matter of time.
Tonight, there would be no sleep.
“Adventurers like us are destined to rule—kill every last one of them!”
In Golden City, a burly man in a straw hat shouted. Drawing his blade at the imperial guard, he charged, followed by a flood of players.
“Whew… that was close.”
The burly man ducked into a dark alley, catching his breath.
Before he could recover, several cunning veterans cornered him at the other end.
“Fuck, if we weren’t sharp, this bastard would’ve fooled us.”
“His ID looks normal but it’s green—he’s gotta be an NPC in disguise. Must be loaded with loot!”
They conferred quickly, eyes glinting.
“Players! I’m a player, what the hell are you doing?!”
Captain Wesley panicked, trying to mimic adventurer slang.
“Shit, that sounds way too convincing… could we be wrong?” one rogue muttered.
But as Wesley pulled off his straw hat, revealing his true face, he shouted, “Good sirs, hold! I’ll give you an enormous opportunity!”
“A hidden quest? Like we give a damn right now.”
The rogue squinted at Wesley’s ID, frowning. “Hold up—this bastard’s on Orgod’s whitelist.”
“So what? We kill him, Orgod won’t know. And besides, like those big Godslayer bastards would ever share real loot with us.”
A mage smirked cruelly. His friends caught on instantly.
Dozens of players materialized on the rooftops above, raining magic and arrows into the alley.
Wesley’s eyes narrowed. “When did men’s hearts turn so foul?”
“We were meant to defend this land and its people—”
“Wretches, you dare make trouble?”
His demeanor snapped from sleazy to terrifying.
His scruffy beard vanished, his figure shot taller, skin gleamed with an eerie azure glow—and a monstrous aura burst forth.
“Player… wait, is he actually a player?”
“Bullshit, look at his tag… Xianyu Trialist? Holy fuck, he’s level 120 maxed out!”
They froze. The NPC-style prefix on his ID vanished. Even his name began to distort.
“Let me give you a lesson.”
A bronze sword appeared in Wesley’s hand. He planted the tip on the ground—a ripple of green light spread.
In a blink, countless sword slashes erupted, forming beautiful cyan phoenixes that tore through the air.
Wherever they flew, bodies shredded instantly, souls blinking straight to respawn.
Meanwhile, in a secret garden bursting with flowers…
The Love Goddess’ eyes snapped open. Petals danced around her as her gaze hardened. “So those meddlesome remnants show themselves again?”
A moment later, a beam of teleportation light flashed over Golden City.
Wesley’s brows drew together as he looked at the spatial crack. “Foreign savages are quick on the move.”
“BlazeKing… that kid’s wings are nearly full-grown. This old sack of bones can finally rest easy.”
Then Wesley stepped out of the alley, transformed into the likeness of a female player, and disappeared into the crowd.
Back in Forever City, the last imperial legions had fallen. Glittering loot lay strewn like starlight, all swept into Orson’s inventory to be cataloged and stored in the guild vault.
“Forbidden curse—release.”
Orson spoke calmly. The twelve battered clan kings were freed from their seal.
Darkbo, Aeloria, Pajero, and Veijander loomed behind them.
Celestial Fortress cannons locked on—one twitch and they’d be obliterated.
“Father!”
“Your Majesty!”
Daughters of the clans Orson had enslaved broke from the city, desperate to reach their kin.
“Back off!”
Aeloria’s bone sword swept out, drawing a line of searing light on the ground. The message was clear—cross it and die.
“Remember our pact: only the death of the Light Spirit King keeps our deal alive.”
The dark spirit princess stood nearby, tears shining in her eyes, clutching a black crystal—her slain uncle’s keepsake.
In the end, the Light Spirit King had outmatched his dark brother, slaying him with his own hands.
Now Longlia Nora was queen of the dark spirits.
“You schemer, you’ll find no glory in your treachery!”
Spirit King Ku’Jalai rasped. His power nearly spent, the UI showed he had only days left to live.
“A skulking assassin like you lecturing me on glory?”
Orson sneered. Darkbo stepped forward and kicked Ku’Jalai to his knees.
“…Please. I’ll do anything. Spare him.”
Nadora clutched at Orson, begging.
He just cast her a cold glance. “Defeat means death. He knew the price.”
Orson nodded at Darkbo.
Without hesitation, Darkbo’s blade swung down.
A sharp sound split the air.
The Demi-God Supreme Ku’Jalai’s head fell, ending the line of spirit kings.
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