"Ninety-eight Veiled Sanctum Fragments!"
The final bid tore through the silence of the battlefield. Ellis had squeezed every last shard from his subordinates, pooling them with his own reserves to scrape together a near-hundred. With the transaction finalized, the ownership of the SSS-Tier Conquest Banner was finally etched in stone.
Calder let go. He released his grip on the battered, blood-stained Ellis, who scrambled back instantly. Ellis lunged for his original banners and the newly purchased SSS-Tier prize, clutching them to his chest as if fearing Calder might experience a sudden bout of seller's remorse.
As the trade concluded, a suffocating tension settled over the clearing. No one moved. Those who had secured banners and those left empty-handed lingered, their eyes darting between one another like starving wolves.
The stakes were clear: even the "worst" banner present was S-Rank.
Aside from Calder, who had achieved a clean sweep, the leaderboard elites were struggling. Even Edward, an SSS-Tier class holder, was missing a banner for a full set. Icons like Nina, Tyren, and Cha Seung-won held only one apiece. Ragnar and Kelly had been shut out entirely.
It was a humiliating reality they hadn't foreseen. Many cast predatory glances toward the weaker players holding banners—Edward included. A single high-tier skill would be enough to vaporize a common player and force the loot to drop.
Yet, they hesitated.
Calder’s presence was a physical weight in the air. Though Nina and Tyren had been "liberated" from the auction's pressure, they didn't dare make a move. The standoff was a jagged polygon; nine leaderboard powerhouses occupied different corners, their killing intent focused on each other, but primarily on the man at the center.
No one trusted the person standing next to them.
The battlefield timer ticked down its final seconds. Not a single blade was drawn. Edward and the others simply stared at Calder, their gazes heavy with unspoken promises of future violence.
Only Ellis, retreating atop a localized surge of water, dared to break the silence. He moved dozens of meters back before howling, "Calder! I’ve memorized your name! As you people in The Ember Republic say—may we meet again when the mountains crumble and the rivers run dry!"
The moment the words left his mouth, he bolted another fifty meters, terrified that Calder might lose patience and deliver a parting blow to his kidneys.
Calder didn't pursue. He opened his eyes, glancing briefly at the spot where Ellis had vanished. There was no anger in his expression—only a flicker of genuine interest. Of all the self-proclaimed "prodigies" present, only Ellis had the spine to hurl a threat to his face.
As for the others? The "monsters" of the leaderboard?
Calder didn't even grant them a look. To him, they were merely shadows—transient figures destined to be swallowed by the tides of history.
While the atmosphere on the battlefield was funereal, the outside world was in a frenzy.
Before the livestream feeds cut to black, the global forums were melting down over the conclusion of Banner War 95. Calder had single-handedly suppressed four leaderboard elites and indirectly caused the death of a fifth. Then, in a bizarre twist, he had turned a divine battlefield into a high-stakes flea market.
In Sector 911, however, the mood was pure euphoria.
No one expected Calder to be this dominant. He had secured ten Prime Resource Zones for their sector. When he finally materialized back in the classroom, the students looked ready to toss him into the air in celebration.
One look at Calder’s glacial, indifferent face was enough to dampen their physical enthusiasm, but the praise flowed like an open vein.
"Calder, you're a god!"
"Sector 911 is invincible! Ten Prime Resource Zones!"
"We’re going to the top!"
They didn't fully understand what "The Convergence" would do to the world once they left the Novice Zone, but they had seen the world's top talents fighting like dogs over these resources. If the elites wanted them, they were priceless. Even the low-tier players felt like they were about to ascend alongside their sector. Ray and Caden, in particular, looked like they were about to burst with excitement.
Then, the system's cold chime rang in everyone’s ears:
[Notification: Novice Zone 911 is initiating The Convergence. Integrating The Ember Republic Plot 88 (SSS-Tier Unclaimed Waste), Plot 92 (SSS-Tier Unclaimed Waste), The Sakura Federation Plot 20 (SSS-Tier Unclaimed Waste)...]
[Unclaimed Waste threshold reached. Sector Chieftain may now select a Capital Archetype...]
A holographic interface expanded across the room, displaying a gallery of architectural marvels.
There was a palace perched atop a mountain peak, wreathed in clouds—The Celestial Palace.
There was a colossal sinkhole housing a spiraling tower—The Sunken Spire.
There was the neon-and-chrome aesthetic of Steamveil City, where smog and machinery reigned.
And The Abyssal Palace, anchored beneath a sea teeming with leviathans...
"Look at those! Can we choose any of them? I want the Celestial one!"
"Steamveil looks way cooler, are you kidding?"
"The Abyssal Palace has style..."
The chatter grew loud until Ray, ever the sycophant, leaned toward Calder. "Calder, which Archetype should we pick?"
Calder didn't answer immediately. He knew this was a "Special Perk" granted only to those who captured ten Prime Resource Zones. These weren't just skins; they dictated where Sector 911 would be physically located within The Eternal Dominion.
Choosing the Celestial Palace meant being dropped onto the Celestial Archipelago—high-altitude, high-difficulty. The Sunken Spire led to the Abyss. Each territory had its own rewards, but for the current level of humanity, most were death traps. The Abyssal Reach, for instance, would force survivors to evolve into aquatic variants, severely limiting their future growth and making hunting a nightmare.
Calder’s finger flicked through the shimmering, majestic options, bypassing floating cities and magical forests without a second thought.
He stopped on a wasteland.
It was a desolate image: The Ashwaste Ruins. Compared to the other options, it was hideous. The land was a scorched yellow blur of sand and dust. The buildings were sparse, crumbling, and lonely.
The only notable feature was a wall. A massive, monolithic barrier of dark stone—The Unbreachable Rampart. It stood like a scar across the desert, separating the howling dust storms from the inner ruins.
Before anyone could protest, Calder tapped the screen. "This one."
The classroom went silent for a heartbeat before exploding.
"Wait, Calder, for real? It’s just a wall!"
"The Celestial Palace is right there! It looks legendary!"
"Emerald Reverie is way more beautiful..."
"I'm not negotiating with you," Calder’s voice cut through the noise like a serrated blade. He scanned the room, his gaze lingering on each face until the room went ice-cold. "Choose it, or die."
Ray’s heart skipped a beat. He realized the others had forgotten who they were talking to. Calder wasn't their "hero"—he was a slaughterer who had just finished butchering a thousand players in the Banner War.
He looked at Yvette, whose broken body was still slumped against the wall, a grizzly reminder of Calder's mercy.
"Calder’s right! Look at that wall... it’s... it’s got character!" Ray shouted, frantically hitting the confirm button on his own interface.
The others caught the hint. The fear of God returned to them, and they scrambled to finalize the choice. "Yeah, yeah! Ashwaste is great! Very minimalist!"
Safety was more important than a view. They tapped the icons with trembling fingers, terrified Calder might lose his patience and punch them into the drywall.
Calder ignored them. Whether they loved or hated him was irrelevant. If it weren't for the fact that the Chieftain Quest required a functioning Novice Zone to initiate, he wouldn't have bothered keeping them together at all.
[Notification: City Blueprint locked. Convergence in progress. Please remain in your designated quarters.]
The classroom dissolved. Every player was shifted into a private, spartan room equipped with basic necessities, food, and a terminal for the Regional Chat.
[Notification: Congratulations to Ray for an 'Excellent' performance during the Grace Period. Rating: C. Reward: Tier 1 Chrono Seed 2.]
[Notification: Congratulations to Caden... Rating: C. Reward: Tier 1 Chrono Seed 2.]
The rewards began to roll in, and the chat immediately filled with mixed emotions.
"Wait, we get Chrono for finishing? I'm rich!"
"Wait... if we get free Chrono, then the loans we took from Calder..."
"I'm ruined. I borrowed 10 and have to pay back 100. I could have just waited for the reward!"
The realization hit them like a physical blow. The "Grace Period" rewards were late, but they were enough to survive. By borrowing from Calder, they had signed away their futures for nothing. But no one dared complain. You didn't ask a shark for a refund on your limbs.
Ray sighed, feeling a strange sense of relief. He had been kicked out of the deal early on. He was one of the few who wasn't deeply in debt. Still, he wondered what Calder’s rating was.
[Notification: Congratulations to Calder for a 'Perfect' performance during the Grace Period. Rating: S. Reward: Tier 1 Chrono Seed 10.]
Calder wasn't surprised. An S-Rank was standard for anyone who had set a record on the global leaderboards. Compared to those who had finished their Class Advancements in two hours, his "Perfect" rating was expected. However, in terms of raw difficulty, none of them had faced a Pureblood Eternal scion.
Calder looked at his balance. He had over a thousand coins from the auction, but Chrono was a resource one could never have enough of. He tossed the ten Seeds into his mouth.
[Chrono +10]
[Current Balance: 1,669]
He didn't hesitate. He dumped the currency into his level bar.
[Spent 4 Chrono. Level Up! All Stats +1]
[Spent 6 Chrono. Level Up! All Stats +1]
...
[Spent 22 Chrono. Level Up! All Stats +1]
In seconds, 130 Chrono vanished, and Calder’s level jumped from 10 to 20. For any other player, accumulating that much Chrono would have taken weeks of grinding.
He moved to click the button again, but the interface flashed red.
[Warning: Level Cap reached. Hunt required to continue progression.]
Calder paused. In his past life, a common Warrior could level straight to the Tier 1 cap as long as they had the currency. But the God Hunter Sequence was different.
He opened the [Hunt] tab.
[Objective: Hunt Tier 1, 2-Star Prey: 0/10]
In the grading system, Stars represented combat power within a Tier—1 being the weakest, 10 being the peak. A 2-Star prey was nothing to him, but with the world currently in the middle of The Convergence, there was nothing to hunt.
He closed the menu. With the World Channel still disabled post-war, the only thing left was the Ember Republic Forum.
He scrolled down, and a new post pinned at the top caught his eye: The Ember Republic: Top 10 SSS-Tier Player Power Rankings.