The truth of the Otherworld hit Ash Valor like a physical blow: nothing here was easy. These weren’t just mobs; they were true biological entities from a nightmare dimension, and the weakest among them stood at the towering precipice of Level 100.
"The veterans always said Level 100 was just the starting line," Ash muttered, his breath hitching as he stared at the carnage behind him. "I guess I finally know what they meant."
For Azure Prime, every Kill Count against these genuine monsters was a victory bought in blood. To have taken down a Level 200 BOSS at only twenty-one years old? It was beyond logic—it was god-tier. Even with a massive stroke of luck, a surge of pride warmed his chest. He had done the impossible.
"Five years since the Awakening," he whispered. "The world doesn't even look the same anymore."
It had been a half-decade of explosive growth for the practitioners of Azure Prime. When he first Awakened, reaching Level 100 was a feat reserved for a few hundred elites. Now, Ash himself had climbed to Level 110. This era of power wasn't a miracle; it was built on a foundation of corpses, the collective sacrifice of millions that allowed the survivors to sprint through two centuries' worth of progress in a fraction of the time. He wasn't the fastest, but his footing was solid.
"The path ahead is only getting steeper," he realized. The pioneers were gone, or perhaps, he was becoming one of them. He had already altered the fates of countless people today—an act of merit that should have brought him peace.
Instead, his blood simmered. The stronger he grew, the more the itch for retribution intensified. He needed to have a very long, very terminal conversation with the members of The Crimson Vow.
Taking down a guild of that magnitude was a Herculean task. Even a titan like Evan Valor couldn't simply wipe them off the map. But Ash was patient.
"The guild’s debt can be paid in installments," Ash narrowed his eyes. "But Ethan Shade? He dies first. I can’t breathe right while that snake is still drawing air."
He looked at the digital balance in his interface. "Victor Ward, I’m using the money you left me to buy your revenge."
It was a silent vow to Victor and Lily Mercer. If he survived this world, he wouldn’t stop until The Crimson Vow was a forgotten footnote in human history.
Ash opened The Exchange and scrolled past the common trash until he found what he was looking for: a high-tier Skill Tome.
[Eye of Clarity: Peer through the fundamental essence of reality. Pierce through illusions, invisibility, and disguises. Note: Effectiveness scales with the user’s Willpower.]
Price: 1,000,000 Gold.
The price tag was staggering. Compared to a standard thousand-gold Phantom Summon skill, this was a king’s ransom. If he hadn't just hit the jackpot with the BOSS drop, he wouldn't have been able to afford a single page. He didn't hesitate. He hit 'Purchase' and felt the knowledge sear into his mind.
When Ash opened his eyes, the world had shifted. Colors were sharper, the horizon seemed to pull closer, and he could see the faint pulse of mana even in the common weeds at his feet.
"Blows a Potion of True Sight out of the water," he grunted, though the loss of a million gold still stung.
Wasting no time, he began the trek toward the Guild Grounds, pulling up his contact list. Killing a Level 200 BOSS had made him the most hunted celebrity in Southhaven. His face was likely plastered all over the forums; the moment he showed himself, the sharks would start circling.
"The Crimson Vow must have seen the broadcast," he thought. If they were as desperate to kill him as he suspected, an Assassin hit squad was already moving to intercept him on the road back to the city.
In a nondescript room in Southhaven, Ethan Shade stood as rigid as a statue, his pulse thrumming with uncharacteristic anxiety.
Ethan was a top-tier Assassin, mere inches from Level 130. Yet, looking at the old man calmly slurping a bowl of noodles, he felt like a novice. To Ethan, this man was more terrifying than Evan Valor, the strongest man in Azure Prime.
The Elder didn't look up. He focused entirely on his meal, finishing the last drop of broth before meticulously cleaning each finger.
"I miss the old flavors," the Elder remarked, his voice like dry parchment. "Before the game descended, I lived for a bowl of noodles like this. Even now, nothing else quite hits the spot."
He looked at Ethan with milky, ancient eyes. "I’m a man of habit, Ethan. You’ve been with me for nearly a century now."
Ethan’s mind flashed back to a rainy night a hundred years ago. He had been a fresh Awakened, trembling as he drove a dagger into the hearts of ten dying comrades.
"Better they fuel your growth than die to a monster, wouldn't you agree?" the Elder had told him then. "You have the stomach for it. Most people can't kill their own childhood friends. You will walk a special Path of Ascendancy, Ethan. One day, you'll thank me."
The Elder sighed. "The first few thousand kills... there’s fear. But after ten thousand? It’s just numbers. Every life is just a cluster of attribute points. Wealth, power—it’s all there for the taking."
It was the secret of his longevity. The Elder never appeared on the Plane Leaderboards, keeping his level artificially stagnant while gorging on the attribute bonuses granted by the System’s hidden rewards. No one suspected that the true master of The Crimson Vow was a man who looked like a common pensioner.
"I need to work harder, Elder," Ethan bowed his head.
"The boy, Ash Valor. He’s the one you’re hunting?"
"Yes."
"You do need to work harder. A century of experience and you can't pin down an Archer who's been Awakened for five years? It’s embarrassing." The Elder set his bowl down. "He has potential. That Death Strike ability is a rare gift. You probably wanted to let him 'ripen' before harvesting him, but plans change. Kill him now. Anyone who makes a Planar Broadcast and holds a grudge against us is a loose thread that needs to be burned."
"I... I can't find his location, Elder."
"Patience, Ethan. In our line of work, that is the only currency. If you can't find him in a month, wait a year. Use your head." The Elder waved a hand dismissively. "I’m giving you ten elites. Follow him. If you’re lucky, he might drop an Epic-Tier necklace."
Ethan’s eyes flared with greed.
"If you succeed, I’ll prepare a Level 150 'pig' for you to slaughter for your next advancement," the Elder added, his tone turning ice-cold. "If you fail... you can take the pig’s place."
Ethan broke into a cold sweat. "I will not fail."
He vanished into the shadows instantly. The Elder turned back to the window, a frown creasing his weathered face.
"Why do I feel so restless?" he whispered. "I haven't felt this way in a hundred years."
A voice from outside broke his reverie. "Hey, old man! Open the gate!"
"Coming, coming!" the Elder called out, his terrifying aura vanishing instantly. He was the founder of The Crimson Vow, but he was also the world's most diligent doorman.
Finding Ethan Shade in a city of millions was impossible. But Ash knew the predator was looking for him. All he had to do was provide the bait.
He opened the Galeforce Squad channel. "Brett, can you and the others head out of the city?"
Brett Fang replied almost instantly. "What for, Ash?"
"I’m going to settle the score for Victor. I need your help, but it’s going to be dangerous. Think about it before you say yes."
"We’re in," Brett said without a second of hesitation. They were street-level scrappers; loyalty was the only thing they had that couldn't be looted.
Lyra and Grant jumped in immediately.
"Everything’s dangerous these days," Lyra said. "Just tell us where to stand."
"We fought beside Victor for months," Grant added. "If there’s a chance to pay them back, we’re taking it. Besides, I know if I'm ever in the dirt, you'll do the same for me."
"Shut up, Grant," Brett barked. "Are you trying to jinx yourself? Listen to the plan."
Ash smiled. He missed this mindless bickering. "Alright, listen. I’m sending you one million Gold. Buy the best defensive gear you can find. Stock up on Gold-Tier Vitality potions. You need to be able to survive at least two hits from a high-rank Assassin."
"Holy shit!" Grant’s text was practically screaming. "A million? Ash, did you rob a dragon?"
[Grant Fang has been muted by the Squad Leader.]
"Brett, keep your defensive buffs active at all times. Lyra, your reaction time on heals needs to be under a second," Ash continued. "Stay in the Guild Grounds for exactly one hour. Make sure everyone sees you. Buff up to the gills, then head out through the West Gate. I’m sending the coordinates now. Move like you’re on a normal hunt."
"You’ll have tails. Assassins will be watching you, but they won't strike immediately—they want me. If things get hairy, call out. I’ll be there."
The Fang siblings were the perfect bait. They were loud, they were high-profile because of their association with Ash's recent broadcast, and they weren't easily one-shotted.
For the next hour, the squad made a spectacle of themselves at the Guild Grounds.
"Hey Brett! Not hitting the dungeons today?" people called out.
"Going out for a stroll!" Brett yelled back, grinning like an idiot.
Grant made it worse by summoning all five of his Phantoms, parading them like prize ponies. "I get it now," Grant whispered to Lyra. "Ash wants everyone to know we're heading into the wilds. It’s a Serpent Lure."
"It's called 'Luring the Tiger from the Mountain,' you idiot," Brett corrected. "Now shut up and look like we're going to hunt a Level 100 Boss."
Exactly sixty minutes later, they marched out of the gate.
A few miles away, Ash sat on a ridge. Chitin and a small squad of skeletons held a perimeter against the local mobs while his Earthwarden Bear crushed a wayward spider. Beside him, Zane was casually eating a fried chicken leg.
"Stop brooding and eat, Ash," Zane said, tossing him a drumstick. "Packaged it fresh from The Gilded Immortal today. It’s just a few kills. Don't be so tense."
Ash took a bite, but the expensive food tasted like ash. "I'm not nervous about the fight, Zane. I'm nervous they won't show up."
"They'll show. Crimson Vow bastards are arrogant. They think your Level 200 kill was a fluke. To them, you’re just a lucky F-rank Archer."
"Let them think it," Ash muttered.
"Exactly. I'm a D-rank, and I still kick their asses. I can't stand those 'high-talent' pricks who think they're gods because of a letter on their status screen." Zane paused, looking annoyed. "Anyway, hurry up. I've got dungeons to grind. Upgrading a Phantom to Epic-Tier is draining my soul and my wallet."
Ash glanced at Chitin, his own Epic-Tier summon, but decided to keep his mouth shut. "It's time. Zane, let me borrow Shadowtalon."
To catch high-level Assassins, he needed the high ground. They were too fast, too slippery with their Shadowsteps. He needed to be the eye in the sky.
Zane’s Dusktalon was a monster—a Level 138 avian with a wingspan that blotted out the sun. Ash and Zane climbed onto its back, hidden by its massive frame as it spiraled into the clouds.
"Now this," Ash breathed as the wind whipped past his face, "is how you travel."
He looked at the prices for flight Skill Tomes in the shop. Three million gold. He sighed. "Maybe next year."
"Zane, bank left. Stay behind them."
"You sure you can see anything from this height?"
"I've got the Eye of Clarity." Ash’s vision tunneled. He could see for miles.
"Damn, you really went all in for this revenge, didn't you? Respect." Zane grinned. "As long as you’re paying the rental fee."
From his vantage point, Ash watched the Fang siblings finish off a Level 80 Boss. They were cheering, playing the part perfectly. Ash scanned the surrounding woods.
"Empty? No Assassins?" His heart sank. Had he miscalculated?
He expanded his search, pushing his Willpower into the Eye of Clarity. Suddenly, he spotted a ten-man team five hundred meters ahead of the Fangs. They were disguised, their information hidden, moving with a lethal, synchronized grace that no random adventuring party possessed.
"They aren't following," Ash realized. "They’re setting an ambush point."
He hesitated. He couldn't just slaughter a random party on a hunch. But then, the Eye of Clarity flickered. A faint, sickening crimson mist clung to the tops of their heads. He looked back at the Fangs—nothing. He looked at Zane—clear.
"Zane, can you see that red mist on them?"
"Mist? It’s a blue sky, buddy. Get your eyes checked."
It was the skill. The Eye was marking his enemies.
"Wait," Ash squinted. A black speck appeared in the distance, flying high from the direction of Southhaven. It was another giant eagle, Level 130. Ash flattened himself against Shadowtalon’s back.
"Who the hell is flying that high?" Zane hissed.
Ash didn't answer. Through the Eye of Clarity, he saw them. Ten Assassins stood on the back of the rival eagle, all in stealth, all hidden. And every single one of them carried that tell-tale crimson mark.
"Zane, we've got company at twelve o'clock. Ten Assassins, cloaked, on the back of that bird. Keep us three hundred meters out. They're sitting ducks."
"Airborne paratroopers? They really want you dead, Ash." Zane maneuvered Shadowtalon into a predatory glide.
"Victor," Ash whispered, drawing his bow. "Watch this."
He downed a Berserker’s Draught, feeling the raw power flood his veins. He aimed at the cluster of invisible signatures.
High-level Assassins were glass cannons—maybe 200,000 HP at most. Surgical.
"Zane, go. Keep the distance."
Ash didn't wait. He triggered Tenfold Shot.
Twang-twang-twang!
Three volleys. Thirty arrows hissed through the thin mountain air like heat-seeking missiles. Ash didn't even wait for them to land; he unstrung his bow and tapped Zane on the shoulder.
"Done. Let's go."
"Done? The arrows are still in the air! You think you're some kind of—"
Zane was cut off by a flash of golden light enveloping Ash. Level Up.
The Guild Channel went nuclear as a stream of kill notifications flooded the log.
[You have killed Reid Sutton. Exp +250,000. Gold +90,000. Glory Plate (Epic) dropped. Agility +10.]
[Bounty Claimed: 6,000 Gold. 10,000 Contribution Points.]
[You have killed Marcus Zhou. Exp +260,000. Gold +120,000. Glory Helm (Epic) dropped. Strength +10.]
Ten notifications. Ten Level 120+ Assassins wiped out in half a second.
Zane’s jaw dropped. "Okay, spill. How much did we make?"
"About a million in Gold, and ten pieces of Epic-Tier gear," Ash said, his voice steady despite the adrenaline. "Total take? Around 2.5 million."
Zane’s eyes turned into gold coins. "Forget dungeons. We’re becoming bounty hunters."
"I'm splitting a million with you, Zane. I couldn't have done it without the ride."
"A million? Ash, you're my new best friend. Call me whenever you want to commit mass murder."
Ash looked down at the forest below. The crimson marks were gone, but the debt wasn't fully settled. "Ethan Shade wasn't on the bird."
On the ground, miles away, a solitary "Swordsman" was hacking through low-level mobs. He looked like any other solo player, his blade moving with practiced ease. But inside, Ethan Shade felt a cold void open in his chest.
His entire strike team’s names had just turned grey on his UI.
"What the hell?" Ethan whispered, looking up at the empty sky. "Did they... did they just crash?"