The shattered Annihilation Guild suffered devastating losses in this battle—only two Level 3 members remained, alongside ten Level 2 and roughly thirty Level 1 troops.

Fortunately, their Level 4 half-dragon mage survived. As long as he stood, Kuang Lan felt nothing was truly lost.

The ragged remnants of the army retreated in disarray, unaware their every move had long been tracked by Amazonian Tribe scouts.

Along their inevitable retreat path, layered traps lay waiting.

Without warning, the lead Level 1 half-dragon infantrymen vanished into a collapsing pitfall. Below, sharpened spikes awaited. After anguished cries faded, only thirty-some of the fifty remained.

“Traps?”

Kuang Lan’s mind raced. *When were these set? Could it be…?*

Realizing they were ambushed, he shouted for full alert—but Amazonian blowgunners hidden in the trees had already loosed their poisoned darts. *Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!*

Darts pierced unguarded soldiers; venom spread swiftly. One by one, bodies fell. Kuang Lan felt his heart bleed.

*Am I to be utterly erased?*

“Who’s there? Show yourself!”

Kuang Lan and the remaining player-leaders scanned the shadows. Though weakened, they were the army’s core. Lose them, and the force would collapse.

*Whoosh!*

A dart shot straight for Kuang Lan.

The half-dragon mage chanted—a flash shattered it. Kuang Lan flinched.

“My lord… the situation is dire,” the mage murmured, sensing over a hundred hidden presences. The ambush had been meticulously laid.

“Kill them all!”

A rugged female voice roared. Amazonian warrior women surged from all sides, overwhelming Kuang Lan’s group in an instant. Against their might, only the mage offered fleeting resistance.

“Guild Master, teleport out! Dying again would cost us everything—XP, rare drops… it’s not worth it!”

“But the army—?”

Regret twisted Kuang Lan’s gut. *Why did I come to this cursed place? I thought I could crush Tang Jihede… I overestimated myself. He’s far stronger.*

“Go!”

He crushed the Town Portal Scroll. Their forms vanished. The mage fought desperately against multiple Level 4 warriors—until a spear pierced his chest. Silence fell.

Zero Amazonian casualties. All spoils were delivered to Qin Yu. The battle was over.

Back in his territory, Qin Yu smiled. Victory aside, as master of the Amazonian Tribe, their combat experience flowed directly to him.

Sitting at home, he leveled to Level 3. Luna ascended to Level 6.

Her path was simple: as Qin Yu grew stronger, so did she.

“Hahahaha! Well done, human! Level 6! One more step, and that damned Bloodkin won’t dare strut before me again!” Luna beamed, already envisioning the Moon Deity’s triumphant return.

“Don’t get carried away,” Qin Yu tempered gently. “Leveling now needs 10,000 XP. Even grinding ten thousand Level 1 mobs won’t cut it—and where would you find that many?”

He’d already decided his next move. Skip the undead vs. Luminous Theocracy war. Target the Greenwood Tribes instead.

While the Theocracy and players fixated on the north, Qin Yu would seize the neglected southern front—claiming a major quest’s rewards and XP all to himself. *Perfect.*

---

Within the Annihilation Guild’s territory, Kuang Lan paced his chamber, fists clenched. His hard-built army—gone. The blow was crushing.

“No! This isn’t over! I’m going all-in on pay-to-win!”

Fuming, he resolved not just to rebuild, but to forge a stronger force. He contacted the Draconic Dominion, demanded immediate reinforcements for the undead war—and Tang Jihede’s rematch.

Logging off, he called his father, secured one million credits, poured every coin into the game, signed a new contract with Draconic Dominion, and aggressively recruited refugees and slaves.

Reclassing them into cannon fodder units, he rebuilt. Soon, his army stood stronger than before…

---

On the Luminous Theocracy’s front, legions marched north. Monet’s jaw stayed tight, fury simmering over the eastern cathedral’s desecration. *Those greenskins… unforgivable.*

The expedition included Holy Maiden Monet, commanders of the Inquisition and Temple Legions; the Royal Guard Legion held the Holy Capital. Half the Bishop Council marched too—a massive mobilization.

The Dwarf Empire sent 50,000 reinforcements. With players, nearly 180,000 troops advanced against the undead.

“My King,” Daisyth murmured beside the Goblin Emperor’s throne, eyes gleaming. “The Theocracy and undead clash soon. Our time has come.”

She longed to see cathedrals burn.

In the new camp, captured nuns endured brutal torment—body and spirit shattered. Worst of all: learning the human who aided the greenskins’ sacrilege was their former Holy Maiden. The truth broke them.

“Our era… has arrived.”

The Goblin Emperor rose, arms wide as if embracing the sky. Cheers erupted below, swelling through the cavern. Greenskins reveled wildly. He pulled Daisyth close. Beneath the starless night, a decadent revelry began…