The air around the dungeon entrance, already thick with anticipation, grew heavier as the titans of the server began to circle one another. Eternal Knight, his armor gleaming with the promise of unyielding defense, led his Temple Knights contingent directly towards the Amazon Lily squad. The surrounding players instinctively gave them a wide berth, a silent acknowledgment of the power dynamics at play.
"Gentle Breeze. Long time no see," Eternal Knight's voice was a low rumble, carrying across the short distance.
Gentle Breeze turned, her angelic features arranged into a polite, unreadable smile. "Eternal Knight. How much have you improved since our last encounter?" Her words were delivered with a casual grace, but they landed with the precision of a surgeon's scalpel, reopening an old wound. Their last duel had ended with his shield shattered and his pride wounded.
A muscle twitched in Eternal Knight's jaw. "Hmph. That time, you won merely because of superior gear. Now that we stand on equal footing, do you dare to face me again?"
"What a sore loser," Happy Soul, the formidable Guardian Knight at Gentle Breeze's side, interjected with a sneer. "If you're so confident, why not test your mettle against me?"
Eternal Knight's knuckles whitened as they clenched around his shield's grip. He was a tempestuous man, but he was not a fool. In a one-on-one fight, he feared neither of them. But Amazon Lily, as a whole, was a tier above Temple Knights. More importantly, he had new assets he wasn't ready to reveal. "You can be cocky now," he finally retorted, his voice a low growl. "But when my guild secures the Wolf Den's first clear, we'll see who's left laughing." With a final, contemptuous glance, he turned and strode away, his team falling in behind him.
Gentle Breeze's serene smile faded, replaced by a thoughtful frown.
"Big sister, what's wrong?" asked Lonely Flower, a nimble Thief in their party.
"Eternal Knight is arrogant, but he's never been one to back down from a direct challenge so easily," Happy Soul mused, her eyes tracking the departing Temple Knights. "And did you see their composition? There's a new Swordsman with them. He gives me a… pressurized feeling."
"I felt it too," Gentle Breeze confirmed, her voice dropping. "That Swordsman's combat prowess is likely superior to mine."
A ripple of tension went through the Amazon Lily team. They had entered the area with the casual confidence of a top-tier guild, but their leader's admission was a bucket of cold water. The competition was fiercer than they had assumed.
"We cannot afford to be complacent," Gentle Breeze stated, her gaze sweeping over her team. "A single misstep here will cost our guild dearly." She turned back to her officers, their strategy session suddenly feeling far more urgent.
On the periphery of the chaos, Tony had grown tired of waiting. While the guilds postured, he decided to turn his inventory clutter into capital. Finding a clear spot, he set up a simple stall, laying out the items he considered vendor trash: six pieces of Bronze equipment and a single skill book, [Frost Touch].
He expected a few discerning buyers. He did not expect a riot.
The first player to glance at his stall let out a squeal that cut through the ambient noise. "Heavens! Six… six Bronze equipment! And a skill book!"
The word spread like a wildfire in dry grass. "Bronze equipment? Where?!"
[Frost Touch] (B-Rank Skill Book): Immobilizes 3 enemies for 3 seconds. (Magical Classes)
[Admiral Sword] (Bronze): Level 6. +13 Defense, +15 Strength.
[Butcher Knife] (Bronze): Level 5. +10 Attack Speed, +12 Agility.
[Earth Shield] (Bronze): Level 5. +20 Defense, +8% HP Recovery.
[Sharp Sword] (Bronze): Level 6. +15 Strength, +10 Attack Speed.
[Owl Ring] (Bronze): Level 5. +12 Accuracy, +10 Attack Speed.
[Leather Boots] (Bronze): Level 5. +15 Agility.
In a sea of players struggling with Common and Iron gear, a stall selling multiple Bronze items was akin to finding an oasis in a desert. Within twenty seconds, a dense crowd had surrounded Tony, their voices rising in a cacophony of excitement and avarice.
Tony was simultaneously speechless and annoyed. To him, these were mere stepping stones, but to the masses, they were treasures. He immediately regretted his decision as the press of bodies and shrill voices grated on his nerves.
The offers came in a frantic wave.
"Brother, 20 Silver for the Leather Boots is too steep!"
"35 Silver for the Owl Ring? Who even has that kind of money?"
"[Frost Touch] is overpowered! Our guild, Golden Vultures, can't afford 30 Gold. How about real-world currency? We'll transfer first!"
Another player shoved his way forward. "Hmph, if you're broke, don't waste our time. Brother, my Ironblade Guild will take the skill book, the boots, and the ring. It will just take us time to gather 55 Silver and 30 Gold." His tone was embarrassed but determined.
The frenzy escalated. Voices overlapped, offers and pleas mingling with growing frustration. Then, the tone began to shift. Whispers of threats, of simply taking the items, started to snake through the crowd. Greed was curdling into hostility.
Tony had reached his limit.
His hand fell to the hilt of the Humming Blade. He didn't draw it. He didn't need to.
It began as a pressure, a sudden drop in the temperature that raised goosebumps on virtual skin. Then it solidified—a killing intent so dense and cold it felt like the air itself had turned to ice water in their lungs. It was the aura of the Abyss Battlefield's Mad Demon, refined and amplified by his encounter with the devil Jurthradaan. It wasn't just the intent to kill; it was the absolute certainty of death, the void staring back.
"All of you are talking too much."
Tony's voice was quiet, yet it cut through the noise like a blade. His eyes, visible through the mask, seemed to darken into bottomless pits. The crowd froze. Players with pallid faces began to tremble, their bodies reacting to a primal fear that bypassed all logic. Even seasoned experts in the crowd felt their blood run cold. It was as if the gates of hell had opened at their feet.
"Is he even human?" Happy Soul muttered, her face grim. She had felt powerful auras before, but this was something else—a palpable weight of violence that threatened to crush the spirit.
Gentle Breeze simply watched, a shiver tracing her spine. She understood now that this mysterious Swordsman wasn't just talented; he was a force of nature.
The crowd scrambled backward, creating a wide, silent circle around him. The silence was broken by a calm, measured voice from the Temple Knights' direction.
"Brother, we merely wish to do business. No need for anger." It was Nine Feng, the Swordsman who had drawn Gentle Breeze's attention. He stood relaxed, a faint smile on his face, completely unfazed by the killing intent that had routed dozens. His composure confirmed every one of her suspicions.
"If you want to do business, it's simple," Tony replied, his voice returning to a flat calm. "Pay the price and take the item. Those who can't afford it, leave. You're blocking my view, and my patience is finite." His words sent the less-funded players skittering back even further.
"Well, I'm interested in everything you're selling," Nine Feng said smoothly, producing a heavy coin purse.
"We, Amazon Lily, are also interested in the entire lot," Gentle Breeze interjected, stepping forward. Her strategist's mind had already calculated the massive advantage this gear would provide in the dungeon race.
Nine Feng's smile turned into a provocative grin. "It seems we have a little auction. I have 50 Gold right here. If you can top that, the items are yours."
A collective gasp went through the surrounding guilds. Fifty Gold was an astronomical sum at this stage, a testament to Temple Knights' extensive resources and preparation. Gentle Breeze's face fell. She knew her guild's coffers couldn't match that offer without crippling their other operations. With a resigned sigh, she conceded.
The trade was made swiftly. As Tony turned to leave, finally free of the crowd, a large Berserker flanked by four companions planted himself directly in his path.
"Hey, you! Sell your best stuff to me. Now," the Berserker demanded, his tone dripping with arrogant entitlement.
Tony ignored him completely, continuing his walk toward the dungeon entrance as if the man were a ghost.
The Berserker's face flushed with humiliation. "You damn ant! I'm ordering you to stop!" he screamed, his voice cracking with rage. When Tony kept walking, he exploded. "Trash! You think a bit of luck makes you special? Then die!"
He lunged, his spear transforming into three shimmering shadows that shot towards Tony's back from different angles. It was a skilled, lethal technique, one that would have spelled doom for most players.
Tony didn't turn. He didn't dodge. He simply kept walking.
The three spear shadows passed straight through his form as if he were a mirage, striking the empty ground behind him.
Tony stopped. He turned slowly, his calm gaze falling upon the Berserker and his crew. To them, that gaze felt like a death sentence. Their bodies locked up, paralyzed by a fear more real than any game mechanic.
A flicker of blue light. It was too fast for most to even process.
The four bodyguards vanished, their forms dissolving into motes of light, leaving only their equipment clattering to the ground. The Berserker stood alone, untouched but utterly broken.
"W-who are you, sir?" he stammered, his body trembling uncontrollably.
"Someone you shouldn't have provoked." Tony's voice was still calm, but to the onlookers, it was the most terrifying sound they had ever heard.
"Wait! My cousin is—" The Berserker's plea was cut short.
Tony appeared before him in a blur. A single, precise strike from the Humming Blade ended the encounter. Tony collected the loot from all five players with methodical efficiency, then turned and continued his walk to the dungeon entrance as if he had merely swatted a fly.
An absolute silence held the valley. Then, a wave of murmurs rose. Fear was the dominant emotion, but for many, it was mingled with a raw, burgeoning awe. The masked Swordsman wasn't just strong; he was coolly, ruthlessly transcendent. He had established a simple, brutal rule through action, and now, he was stepping into the lion's den without a backward glance.