Author: Sunless Rain
Chapter 2 – New World
After a few seconds that stretched into eternity, he noticed Akasha leaving the throne room—without any command issued through the guild interface.
Once alone, BURNING_ONES muttered to himself,
"What the hell is happening?"
"There's no interface… how am I supposed to exit the game?"
"And the force-exit gesture doesn't work either…"
Frustrated, he murmured more to himself, not seeing a solution by continuing his murmurs he decided to go for a walk—to clear his mind and hopefully find answers.
He stood up and walk to exit the throne room and head towards the combined floors of 7, 8, and 9—where the World Tree Sapling was located.
As he exited the throne room, he saw Akasha again—standing in the hallway.
He blinked, confused.
Didn't I tell her to leave?
Then it clicked.
She's the guardian of the 10th floor. Of course, she would remain nearby.
I told her to leave the room—not the floor.
BURNING_ONES sighed.
"Never mind," he said aloud, and gestured for her to follow him.
Once again, she obeyed—no menu commands, no verbal override—just obedience.
As they walked through the halls, they passed the guild's old conference chamber.
The room where he and the other guildmates once gathered—strategizing for dungeon runs, guild wars, and large-scale raids.
The memories flickered like echoes.
Laughter.
Arguments.
Victory cries.
Still confused, BURNING_ONES kept walking.
Eventually, they reached the combined floors—
And there it stood.
The World Tree Sapling.
A massive, radiant tree rooted in the heart of the vast chamber.
Its divine aura filled the space with a solemn, transcendent stillness.
A Transcendent Relic owned by Celestial Trium. "Among the known Transcendent Relics that exist in the game, there is a legendary subset known as the Genesis Relics —the most powerful and game-breaking Relics ever conceived. Unlike ordinary Transcendent Relics, which are already exceedingly rare and powerful, the Genesis Relics stand at the absolute pinnacle. Celestial Trium possesses one of these items. Of the Genesis Relics, only two have ever been found—or at least, proclaimed to have been."
He looked up.
BURNING_ONES smirked.
"A sapling? That's the biggest understatement I've heard."300 meters of glowing bark, sprawling branches, and celestial leaves.
He thought to himself:
If this is what a sapling looks like… how big would a fully grown World Tree be?
They continued walking until they reached the tree's center.
There, standing before the colossal roots of the World Tree Sapling, were the guardians of the combined floors.
The Hesperides Sisters.
Agnai.
Erytheia.
Hespera.
More commonly referred to as the Dryad Sisters by the guild members. The sisters are identical in form—tall, graceful, and otherworldly. Their dresses shimmered like starlight, each made of a flowing, ethereal white fabric that seemed to dance with light. Their porcelain faces were flawless, framed by their flowing mint-green hair. The only real way to tell them apart was the subtle variation in the style of their clothes—each sister wore a slightly different cut or pattern, but all maintained the same delicate and pristine white hue.
But it wasn't their beauty that struck BURNING_ONES.
It was everything else.
Agnai: "Welcome."
Erytheia: "Lord."
Hespera: "BURNING_ONES."
Their voices overlapped and layered—echoing as though spoken from inside his skull.
Not loud. But present.
Their eyes didn't blink.
Their smiles didn't waver.
BURNING_ONES stiffened. A chill danced up his spine.
He'd faced world bosses and deathless raids, but this—
This trio always made him feel like prey.
They bowed in unison, perfectly synchronized like puppets on invisible strings.
Even the way they moved was unnatural—smooth, gliding, a fraction too fluid.
Why did we make them like this again?
Then he remembered—and grimaced.
"Damn MADARA," he muttered under his breath.
"And those damn girls… I should've never let them binge horror movies while designing NPCs."
It made sense now. The unnatural smiles. The eerie silence before they spoke. The way they knew things before they were said.
The sisters shared a linked consciousness, courtesy of MADARA
But their horror-show behavior? That came straight from the imaginations of his female guildmates, who decided "creepy is cool."
BURNING_ONES didn't even bother issuing a verbal command.
The sisters had probably already anticipated his arrival—felt it in the air.
They were beautiful, brilliant… and utterly terrifying.
And they never blinked.
Seriously. Never.
He stepped closer to the sapling, trying to ignore the prickle at the back of his neck.
Behind him, Akasha remained silent, standing with folded hands and perfect posture—yet even she seemed more normal than the trio before him.
BURNING_ONES cleared his throat and glanced at the World Tree Sapling.
"Is everything… stable?" he asked.
The sisters turned their heads simultaneously—mechanically—like dolls on a shared string.
Agnai: "The Sapling is nourished."
Erytheia: "Its divine essence—unchanged."
Hespera: "For now."
That last part—for now—lingered longer than it should have.
Too long.
Like a whisper crawling into the space between his thoughts.
BURNING_ONES narrowed his eyes.
He had a feeling this visit would raise more questions than answers.
Although annoyed, BURNING_ONES could never forget the importance of the sisters' role during the Heavenly Rebellion—dubbed by bystanders as the most iconic guild raid in Eryndor's history.
"He remembered how they dismantled the remnants of an 1,800-strong raid party—players, Mercenary NPCs, and summons—just moments after they had slain Mizu Akari, the Sixth Guardian probably or undoubtedly the most powerful Humanoid NPC they had ever faced."
Drunk on their victory, the raid group had celebrated toppling one of Celestial Trium's toughest defensive lines. But that elation died the instant they stepped into the combined floors.
That was when the Hesperides sisters gave them a grand welcome.
All preparation, tactics, and strategy collapsed in seconds. Their carefully calculated cooldowns and formation lines meant nothing.
It was as if they weren't fighting three NPCs—
It was as if they had challenged the World Tree itself.
Roots surged like titanic serpents. Vines thicker than warships erupted from the ground, shredding defenses and battering even the sturdiest tanks. Branches twisted through the ceiling and rained divine-level bombardments like wrathful comets. The terrain turned traitor—floors cracked open, walls closed in, gravity twisted. The very foundation of the dungeon rebelled.
And in the middle of that chaos stood the three sisters.
Like a choir conductor performing, making the World Tree dance on their whim. Despite the massacre they had orchestrated, their expressions remained unchanged—still smiling eerily, even giggling, as if the carnage around them was nothing more than a child's game.
Players were slaughtered by the hundreds. Divine gear destroyed. Legendary buffs were crushed under an avalanche of living wood and transcendent force.
The aftermath was volcanic.
Forums exploded. Livestream replays went viral. Rage threads piled up in every major Eryndor community.
Formal protests to the GMs, claiming the Hesperides were "bugged," demanding nerfs or outright removal.
But the GMs refused.
The sisters weren't breaking any rules. Their mechanics, horrifying as they were, followed the code to the letter.
They simply had one fatal advantage:
They weren't wielding enchanted wood.
They were wielding a World Tree—a Transcendent Relic.
And no amount of strategy could overcome that without divine-level countermeasures.
It wasn't a bug. It was just misfortune. And the genius of Celestial Trium's dungeon design.
The players had walked into the one place you never challenge the World Tree…
…and expected to win.
MADARA —that guy. He became a legend after that raid, infamous for his ingenious machination: weaponizing a World Item that was supposed to be safeguarded from theft. Not only did he turn it into a trap, but he also created three NPCs specifically designed to synergize with it. The stunt earned him a reputation across Eryndor as one of the most fearsome guild base designers. His name alone now commands awe—and a mad respect.
Now, years later, BURNING_ONES stood once more before the towering World Tree Sapling. And there were the sisters—waiting, smiling, eyes locked on him with that same quiet malice.
He exhaled through his nose.
"Tsk, BINI… She's the one who started all this. That girl watches way too many horror movies," BURNING_ONES muttered under his breath.
Despite his complaint, a small smile tugged at his lips. Memories of the chaotic guild meetings, debates over designs, and everyone's quirks came flooding back—irritating at the time, yet nostalgic now.
The silence was shattered by the sound of metal scraping against stone.
Crank. Clank. Crank.
BURNING_ONES's head turned toward the noise.
Far across the city like floor , a towering figure approached—dragging an enormous anchor with each heavy step.
Neptuneus.
Nine feet of oceanic terror, his massive frame wreathed in a living exoskeleton—chitinous plates forged by pressure and time. His scales shimmered like submerged obsidian, slick with seawater, each movement releasing a faint hiss of mist and brine. Coral growths jutted from his forearms like jagged armor, and glowing barnacles pulsed along his shoulders with bioluminescent menace.
His anchor—a behemoth slab of blackened steel, rust-eaten and carved with deep runes—dragged behind him, screeching a line of ruin into the stone floor.
Neptuneus. The Sea Sovereign. Warden of the First Floor.
A leviathan.
BURNING_ONES's own creation.
"Looks like the welcome committee just keeps getting bigger," BURNING_ONES muttered, his half-hearted smile fading as the atmosphere grew heavier.
Less than a minute later, Neptuneus reached BURNING_ONES and dropped to one knee in deference.
"My lord—"
Before Neptuneus could finish his greeting, BURNING_ONES, clearly alarmed, swiftly cut him off.
"What is the problem, Neptuneus?"
He didn't waste time on pleasantries. The presence of a floor guardian in the combined floors was already enough to raise concern. Floor guardians were not programmed to leave their assigned domains under normal circumstances—something was clearly wrong.
Neptuneus lifted his head slightly and spoke with grave seriousness.
"My lord… it appears we have been transported into a different world.
"Transported?"
"Yes, my lord."
Like transmigration? BURNING_ONES wondered grimly.
Out of reflex, he attempted to open his system interface, aiming to teleport to one of his pre-set coordinates outside the base—a designated teleportation point. But again, nothing. No response. No interface.
Nothing but silence.
His expression twisted beneath the helmet. Frustration mounting, he chose the old-fashioned way. If the system had abandoned him, then so be it—he would walk.
Each step he took thundered through the corridor, his armored boots crashing against the pristine floors. The air shook with the weight of his rising annoyance
"Lord BURNING_ONES?"
The voice called out hesitantly behind him.
But the master said nothing. He didn't even turn.
Neptuneus blinked, visibly unsettled by his master's silence. He glanced at Akasha as if hoping for insight, but the blind seer gave no answer. She followed in silence, her steps light but deliberate.
Left with no choice, Neptuneus trailed after them.
The Hesperides Sisters simply watched from the shadows of the upper floors—silent, smiling, and still.
As the trio descended, nearing the sixth floor, the air shifted—a sudden, drastic change the atmosphere grew heavier, charged with something otherworldly and immense.
A warning.
A presence.
BURNING_ONES muttered, his mind swirling in confusion, What is this? I don't remember anything like this in the game.
The deeper they descended, the more the air pressed in on them—dense, heavy, as if they were hundreds of meters underwater. The silence grew more oppressive with every step, closing in from all sides like a tightening grip.
And then, they reached the Sixth Floor.
At first glance, the place was unlike any other. The floor stretched out endlessly—a perfectly reflective expanse of still water that mirrored the bright, cloud-strewn sky above. The surface was undisturbed, as calm as a lake untouched by wind.
Only their footsteps broke the silence… faint ripples echoing outward with every step.
Moments later, they saw him.
At the center of the vast, otherworldly expanse sat a lone figure—a man, yet something far beyond a mere man. His very presence radiated unadulterated strength, as though every fiber of his being brimmed with unfathomable might.
It was Mizu Akari.
Seated in silent meditation, he remained perfectly motionless, waiting—as if he had known of their arrival long before they ever set foot upon the water. His stillness carried an unearthly gravity, the very air around him seeming to bend to his will.
No weapon rested in his hands. No armor guarded his form. He had no need for either. The sheer force of his presence—the dominion he held over the space around him—was weapon enough.