The Crimspire Lord bore the silhouette of a standard Crimson Bat, distinguished only by the jagged crown of The Crimson Vow resting atop its head. In the hierarchy of Azure Prime’s teeming billions, a Voidlord held absolute authority. As an Overlord-tier entity, it stood leagues above the common mobs and Elites that players usually contended with.
Orion shouted a challenge, his voice echoing across the wasteland, but Crimson Gaze didn't even deign to look at him. The creature hovered in the air, a silent sentinel, its cold, multifaceted eyes fixed on the distant silhouette of Southhaven. Behind it, the Crimson Vow forces continued to pour from the rift, their numbers swelling like a rising tide of blood.
The monster’s stillness was more terrifying than a roar. Orion’s jaw tightened. "Ash Valor, get your Displacement Talismans ready. If things go south, don't hesitate. Run."
"I’m already on it," Ash replied, his voice steady despite the tension. Survival in the wilds had hammered two habits into his soul: always have an escape route, and never let Ward's Bulwark drop. He wasn't worried about himself—he was worried about the guild.
Suddenly, a system notification flared across his vision.
[Notification: Killing Blow triggered!]
[You have cleared Crimspire Portal No. 17. War Mission complete. War Merit +1,000.]
[Planar Broadcast: Player Ash Valor has achieved the First Destruction of a Portal. All Players: All Stats +10.]
A thousand War Merit points secured. The portal collapsed into a swirl of dying energy. Ash had achieved his objective, and for a moment, the lack of enemy reinforcements felt like a victory.
"The Overlord is a tough nut to crack, but these small fry are fair game," Ash called out, his eyes flashing. "Team, keep my mana topped off. I’m going for the kill count!"
With the Crimspire fortress and its six defense towers dissolved, the crimson haze finally lifted, revealing the true scale of the battlefield. Five miles away, a sea of ten thousand Crimson Bats was locked in a brutal stalemate with the elite forces of the Eternal Guild.
"Skystrider! Good work on the portal!" voices roared across the guild comms.
Orion exhaled, his posture relaxing as the portal vanished. He opened a private channel to the Eternal Guild's leadership. "Roland Blackwood, the portal is down. Eternal is the heavy hitter here—we’ll leave the Crimspire Lord to you."
It was strange, though. The Crimspire Lord watched its reinforcements get cut off without a flicker of concern. It looked like a creature that had expected this.
"Copy that, Orion," Roland replied. "I didn't want to commit our top-tier hunters while the portal was active. As long as that bat doesn't bolt, he’s a dead man." Roland couldn't hide the excitement in his voice. To claim a Voidlord’s head—perhaps even a World First—was the stuff of legends.
"Wait a second, Roland," Orion cut in, his mercenary instincts kicking in. "Skystrider did the heavy lifting on the portal. We want half the loot from the Lord."
"Half? Are you out of your mind, Orion? You’re lucky I’m offering thirty percent for the assist."
"Fine, thirty percent. We’re going to start a fighting retreat."
"Retreating already?" Roland scoffed. "Clean up the trash first."
"The trash is endless," Orion muttered, his eyes narrowing as he watched the Crimspire Lord. "Something feels wrong, Roland. I can’t put my finger on it, but my gut is screaming."
"Relax. It’s Level 290. We’ve got Level 300s on the way. It’s just math."
High above, the Crimspire Lord let out a low, vibrating sound—a sigh of disappointment. It sensed Orion’s intent to withdraw and saw the Eternal heavyweights closing in. Finally, it spoke.
"Orion of Skystrider... your instincts are sharp," the creature hissed, its voice echoing in their minds. "A pity you were born in such a wretched, low-tier plane. You will never see the world beyond Azure Prime. You think you can leave? It is far too late."
The monster glanced at their levels. "Still only Level 260. You spent your life playing at war instead of seeking true power. Foolish."
Orion opened his mouth to retort, but the words died in his throat. A crushing weight descended on his mind. It wasn't a skill; it was pure, unadulterated spiritual pressure. Mindshackle. He couldn't move a finger, couldn't even breathe.
This isn't right! Orion screamed internally. A Voidlord from a Prime Citadel shouldn't have this kind of power!
The Crimspire Lord turned its gaze toward Ash. "And you, Ash Valor. You are nothing but a lucky fluke. You think your Death Strike makes you special? You think the rules of a primitive plane grant you godhood?"
The creature’s eyes glowed with a sickening light. "There will be no 'after' for you. You will never see the Infinite Realms. You should be grateful—you killed a few of my kin before the end. You’ve had a good run."
[Ding! You are under mental suppression. Total paralysis.]
[Ding! Mindward Elixir activated. Mindshackle resisted.]
Ash felt the icy grip on his soul shatter. He didn't move, keeping his posture slumped to mimic the others. He quickly pinged his team: I’m fine. Don’t move.
The message was pointless. Brett, Nina, and the rest of the Galeforce Squad were already frozen like statues, their eyes wide with terror.
The Crimspire Lord then looked at Roland Blackwood, who was leading the ten-thousand-strong Eternal vanguard. "Roland... Level 290, and still a waste of space. You brought ten thousand elites out of your walls? Did you forget that The Crimson Vow excels in speed?"
The monster laughed, a sound like grinding bone. "My army is already knocking on Eternal’s gates. A simple feint, and you fell for it. You even pulled your strongest defenders out of the city. Did you really think a Voidlord was so easy to kill? Or did you think I was as stupid as you?"
"Today marks the true descent of The Crimson Vow. In an hour, both your guilds will be history."
Roland’s face was a mask of agony and despair. He was a Level 290 veteran, a man who had survived a thousand battles, yet he was being toyed with by a creature that shouldn't exist.
"Orion, Ash, Roland, Thorne, Zhang Zhong..." the creature recited their names like a grocery list. "Almost everyone I wanted is here. Only Caden Marlowe is missing. No matter. I’ll leave him for later, so he can watch his world burn before we slowly bleed him dry."
Behind the Crimspire Lord, a Phantom Veil began to manifest, stretching across the sky until it covered miles. It was the shape of a colossal bat, a shadow that eclipsed the sun.
"Ancestral Father," the Crimspire Lord whispered to the shadow. "I apologize for requiring your avatar."
"A waste of energy for such ants," a booming, ancient voice resonated from the veil. "Crimson Gaze, you have ten days to finish your training here. Then, leave. This is a Level 1 Plane. Do not linger."
"I won't need ten days, Father. Southhaven will fall within three."
Ten thousand warriors, the cream of Azure Prime’s crop, stood paralyzed. Even the Level 300 powerhouses were reduced to lawn ornaments. This wasn't combat; it was a higher-dimensional execution.
"I’m heading to the guild grounds to regroup with the kin," Crimson Gaze said, dismissing the humans as if they were already dead. It flapped its wings and soared toward the horizon, leaving the massive shadow-avatar behind.
"Crimson Gaze," the Ancestral Father warned, "this avatar will dissipate in an hour. Even if they are weak, do not show mercy. Kill them all."
"The Crimson Vow does not know the meaning of hesitation," the Voidlord called back.
Ash listened to the conversation, his heart hammering against his ribs. The sheer arrogance was staggering. The Ancestral Father began to murmur to itself, "This plane is so fragile. I have unmade worlds far stronger than this..."
Beneath the shadow, ten thousand minds were screaming. Roland Blackwood felt a strange sense of peace wash over him. Two hundred years of fighting, he thought. Maybe it’s time to rest.
"Dealing with these pests is beneath me," the Patriarch grumbled.
The sky turned a bruised purple. Thousands of translucent, vein-like tubes descended from the veil, latching onto the frozen players.
"Bloodpact Drain!"
Ash saw his health bar begin to plummet. A tube was latched onto his own neck. He didn't wait any longer.
"Drain this, you son of a bitch!" Ash roared.
He snapped his bow up, his fingers a blur. A volley of Stormquiver arrows streaked into the sky, burying themselves in the mass of the shadow-avatar. He downed another Mindward Elixir, his eyes locked on the beast.
[-10,693]
[-11,369]
He was outputting millions in raw potential, but the damage numbers were pathetic.
"Oh? A little bug is still squirming?" the Patriarch remarked, amused. "Your spirit is commendable, but your strength is pitiful. Struggle all you like."
Ash didn't stop. He fired again and again until—
[Status: Stunned!]
"What? Stunned?" the Patriarch’s voice faltered. "That wasn't a skill... how can the rules of a Level 1 Plane affect me?"
The shadow-avatar flickered. The Patriarch tried to reassert control, but Ash hit him again.
[Status: Stunned!]
[Status: Stunned!]
The moment the Patriarch’s focus broke, the mental suppression shattered. Ten thousand players stumbled, gasping for air as the tubes vanished.
"Heal! Get the healers up!"
"Pop your Mindwards now!"
"Range! Open fire! Bite the bastard before we go!"
Spells and arrows flew into the sky in a chaotic barrage. Most did zero damage, highlighting just how insane Ash’s output actually was.
Orion didn't hesitate. "Skystrider! Full retreat to the territory! Man the walls!"
Roland echoed the command. They knew they couldn't win this head-on. As the army scrambled back toward the safety of the city, the Patriarch ignored them, focusing entirely on Ash.
"Boy... are you from a Higher Plane? Or is that weapon of yours?"
Ash didn't answer. He let another arrow fly.
[Status: Stunned!]
"You little—"
[Status: Stunned!]
[Ding! You are under mental suppression!]
[Vera Laine has cast Mindward on you.]
[Mindward Elixir consumed.]
"Your willpower..." the Patriarch hissed, his avatar beginning to blur at the edges. "You shouldn't be possible in this realm."
[Status: Stunned!]
"Damn it! If this weren't a mere avatar, you’d be dust!"
An avatar had limited willpower, and the Patriarch had burned most of his to suppress the entire army. Ash was effectively winning a war of attrition against a god’s shadow.
The Crimspire Lord, which had been flying away, suddenly pulled a U-turn. "Father! That boy has Death Strike! If the stuns are working, the execution might too!"
"Why didn't you say that sooner?!" the Patriarch roared. "Fine. Let him try. If the spatial conduit wasn't so fragile, I would have come in person."
Ash and Orion shared a look of grim relief. If the real thing couldn't cross over, they had a fighting chance.
"The beast is running low on moves!" Ash shouted. "Orion, pin down the Crimspire Lord!"
"He’s too fast! We can't catch him!"
Crimson Gaze laughed as it retreated. "You want me? In your dreams! Father, next time give me an avatar that isn't a wet paper towel. I’m leaving!" The Voidlord vanished into the clouds, abandoning its progenitor's shadow.
The Patriarch didn't seem to care. "Let the whelp play. But I still don't believe a primitive weapon can—"
Ash’s bow gave off a hum that vibrated in his very marrow.
[Ding! Death Strike triggered.]
"My weapon is Soulbound," Ash whispered, releasing the string. "It doesn't care about your plane."
The arrow struck the heart of the veil.
[Ding! You have slain the Avatar of an Unknown High-Tier Being.]
[No loot dropped (Avatar kill).]
[Rewards: Level +10, War Merit +10,000, Guild Contribution +100,000,000.]
Ash watched his experience bar explode.
"Ten levels..." He breathed, his eyes wide.
[Ding! You have reached Level 280. All Stats +100. Range +20m. Attack +28,000. Attack Speed +0.2.]
[Planar Vault Reward: 2 Attribute Fruits.]
"Ten thousand War Merit. I’m rich."
He was still buried in debt, but this was a massive dent in it. He immediately dumped the merit into ten more Attribute Fruits.
"Twelve fruits. All into Spirit."
[Spirit +24,000]
His Spirit stat broke 200,000. He wasn't at the level of a true Overlord yet, but he could likely dominate any standard Level 300 mob now.
The battlefield was a cacophony of cheers. The Galeforce Squad gathered around him, their levels having jumped significantly from the shared party experience.
"Captain, you actually killed that thing," Rex stammered, his face pale. "I thought we were dead."
"If I hadn't been in a party, I would've hit Level 300," Brett joked, though his hands were still shaking.
Ash looked at his team. "Brett, from now on, stay off the walls. Take the guild and grind dungeons. Non-stop."
"Non-stop?"
"Until your base stats match an Overlord of your level," Ash said firmly. "The world has changed. The monsters are coming from higher planes. We can't just 'defend' anymore. We have to evolve."
Vera Laine stepped forward, her expression grave. "He’s right. The era of open field battles is over. We’re going to be living behind walls for the next century. Dungeons are the only safe way to bridge the power gap. Captain, I’ll organize a two-thousand-man raid group. We start at Level 17 and work our way up."
"Good. Don't slack off. Sleep less, grind more."
"What about you, Captain?" Brett asked.
Ash looked toward the horizon, where the faint red glow of the enemy remained. "Someone has to stay on the walls. It’d be a waste of my kit if I didn't."
"You aren't worried we’ll overtake you?"
Ash laughed. "I’m counting on it."
"Ash, wait," Orion called out as the group prepared to head back. "There are some people you need to meet."
Orion led him toward the high command of the Eternal Guild. Ash wasn't one for networking, but he followed.
"Roland Blackwood," Orion introduced, gesturing to a man who looked surprisingly young for his reputation. "Guild Leader of Eternal. A bit of a paladin type, but he’s solid."
"Zhang Zhong," Orion continued, pointing to a mountain of a man holding a shield taller than himself. "The best tank in the business."
"Thorne Ashwick, the self-proclaimed 'Swordmaster.' And you know Declan Ward—the traitor who left us for Eternal."
Declan turned red. "I didn't leave! I was an Eternal member on loan to you guys! I just went home!"
"Ash," Roland said, extending a hand. "You saved a lot of lives today. Let’s add each other."
Ash accepted the requests. His friends list was suddenly populated by the most powerful Level 300 players in the region.
Orion cleared his throat, leaning in with a sly grin. "Now, Ash is young, and he’s modest. But he’s a junior in this world. You legends are all... what, two hundred years older than him? You’re basically his grandfathers."
Ash’s face burned. He knew exactly where this was going.
"In the spirit of our shared humanity," Orion continued, his voice dripping with mock sincerity, "it’s traditional for elders to look after the younger generation. You know, a little 'meeting gift' to show you care. Not that we’re asking! That would be rude."
Roland laughed, shaking his head. "Orion, you shameless bastard. You’re the only man who could ask Evan Valor for lunch money and walk away with a fortune."
Despite the ribbing, Roland reached into his inventory and pulled out a shimmering book. "Orion’s right about one thing—you’re the future, Ash. Your attack is insane, but you need to stay alive to use it."
He handed the book to Ash. [Skill Tome: Blink Step].
"Take it," Roland said. "Consider it an investment in our mutual survival. If you’re alive, we’re all safer."
Ash took the book, his voice thick with genuine thanks. "Thank you, Roland. I won't waste it."
"Good. And Ash?" Roland smiled. "If Skystrider ever gets too small for you..."
"That’s enough!" Orion barked, grabbing Ash’s shoulder. "We’ve got a war to win. Move out!"