"Who the FUCK cast Firewall?"

  "Which guild is [ChickenDinner] from?"

  "Holy shit, that damage!"

  "Damn it, let me through! I'm getting roasted alive!"

  "Move, you motherfucker, or I'll make you move!"

  Firewall was a mage's area-of-effect spell. It torched a 10-by-3-yard area, inflicting damage every second to anyone standing in the flames.

  Its DPS was mediocre, nothing compared to the burst damage of a Pyroblast or a Meteor Strike. Its main advantage was its duration; cast on the ground, it could last for a full minute or two, making it perfect for grinding large groups of mobs.

  But a Firewall was stationary, and players were not. In a real PvP fight, nobody would ever use such a clumsy spell.

  Of course, there were exceptions to every rule.

  When you were packed shoulder-to-shoulder with hundreds of other players, unable to move an inch, a Firewall suddenly erupting under your feet was a death sentence.

  Damage numbers began popping up all over the burning zone:

  -2715

  -1113

  -925

  -3114

  …

  The damage wasn't high, but standing in it was unbearable. Players scrambled to escape, a chaotic flurry of Leaps, Blinks, and every other movement skill imaginable lighting up the area.

  But only a fraction of the player base had access to such abilities. Most were just regular grunts who could only shove their way out.

  One warrior, burning and desperate after several failed attempts to break free, finally snapped.

  [Bladestorm]

  A whirlwind of steel erupted from him, slicing into everyone within a five-yard radius. For those already trapped in the Firewall, it was the final nail in the coffin. Dozens of players dropped dead in an instant, their bodies either charred by the flames or shredded by the spinning blades.

  That was the spark. The fragile truce of the grinding spot shattered. Other trapped players, seeing the warrior's success, began using their own AoE skills to carve a path out. The players they hit, of course, didn't just stand there and take it. They retaliated.

  "[Grim Harvest] assholes! I'm coming for you!"

  "TacoPaladin, I know you're with [Bloodforged]! Your whole guild is dead meat!"

  "Light 'em up! Teach these clowns a lesson!"

  The crowded grinding spot, once merely congested, exploded into a brutal, all-out war. The single Firewall had ignited everyone's temper. Guild tags flared to life as players enabled PvP mode, unleashing hell on anyone standing near them. The area became a maelstrom of lightning, fire and frost. Even the [Titan Guard] players at the very center of the zone were dragged into the fray.

  Draevan, their hot-headed leader, was never one to be trifled with. He immediately ordered his men to strike back.

  "You motherfuckers think you can touch my guys? Fuck 'em up!"

  Yet, in stark contrast to the roaring chaos of the outer circle, the ten-yard area at the very center was preternaturally quiet. In the middle of it all was a deep pit, from which the faint sound of a shovel hitting dirt could be heard.

  Kael grunted as he dug, cursing under his breath.

  Seriously, dev team? Is this level of 'realism' necessary? It's just a game, a few scoops should've been enough. Why haven't I hit it yet?

  An hour later, standing in a man-sized hole, his shovel finally struck something solid and dark. A jolt of excitement shot through him. He carefully excavated around the object, slowly revealing its full form.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  There was no doubt about it. It was the behemoth's corpse.

  The moment his hands closed around it, a system notification chimed.

  [System: Behemoth Corpse acquired. Bathed in its aura, you have gained 200,000,000 EXP.]

  [System: Lucky Bonus triggered! You have gained an additional 200,000,000 EXP.]

  Kael, who had already reached level 31 in the Hidden Realm, dinged again, hitting level 32. Four hundred million experience points just for digging up a corpse—a pleasant surprise, to say the least.

  He climbed out of the pit, ready to head back to town and turn in the quest. But when he saw his surroundings, he froze.

  Tens of thousands of players were locked in a massive brawl. It was a storm of flashing blades and exploding spells.

  In the thick of it, Draevan was on a rampage, his massive Obsidian Greatsword cleaving through the crowd. The greatsword had a built-in cleave effect, and every swing carved a bloody path through his enemies. With each kill, the sword would let out a low hum, healing Draevan for a portion of the damage dealt.

  On top of that, Draevan's resistances were insanely high; most crowd control and slow effects barely lasted a second on him. The Obsidian Greatsword looked clumsy, but its power was terrifying, combining AoE damage, lifesteal, and status resistance all in one weapon. Each effect was god-tier on its own; having them all on a single weapon was just broken.

  The guilds that had aggroed the [Titan Guard] had only meant to stir up more chaos to cover their own actions. Now, seeing Draevan's unstoppable advance, they were filled with regret. The players currently facing him were screaming curses in their guild chat.

  Which one of you assholes pissed off this barbarian?!

  Kael stood in the eye of the storm, just wanting to leave quietly. But a quick scan of the battlefield told him that was impossible. He was completely surrounded. He considered waiting for the chaos to die down, but then he noticed two small squads of players, hidden within the larger melee. They weren't fighting the main battle. Instead, they were taking advantage of the chaos to launch potshots at him.

  A stray arrow here, a weak magic missile there. The damage was negligible, but it was enough to keep him permanently flagged for combat, preventing him from using a scroll or any other teleportation item to escape.

  Kael shook his head, unslung Galeharrow from his back, and sighed.

  "You guys really left me no choice."

  He loosed an arrow skyward. In a flash of light, it multiplied into hundreds of identical copies, raining down like judgment.

  [Phantom Barrage]!

  THRRUUUMMM…

  The sudden, ominous shadow drew the attention of the brawling players. Many looked up at the impossible cloud of arrows, a flicker of recognition in their eyes.

  "Is that…?"

  Before they could finish the thought, the volley descended.

  A 15-by-15-yard patch of the battlefield was instantly cleared, leaving behind nothing but corpses. The squads that had been griefing him were gone, wiped out to the last man.

  Not a single one had escaped Phantom Barrage.

  The players nearest to the impact zone, who had been consumed by battle rage just a moment before, suddenly sobered up.

  "It's Phantom Barrage!"

  "It's Dawnbreaker! Dawnbreaker's here!"

  "Oh fuck, I'm so dead!"

  Kael had braced himself for retaliation, for the entire mob to turn on him. But that's not what happened.

  Silence.

  The war-torn field fell completely, utterly silent. Every single player turned to look at the man in the center, their faces masks of pure terror.

  Kael hadn't expected his attack to be quite so effective.

  He cleared his throat. "Excuse me," he called out to the thousands of staring eyes. "If you'll just let me through, I need to get out of here."

  The players on the outer edge were stunned. A few of the bolder ones started whispering.

  "He wiped all those guys… just to leave?"

  "It's a trick! It has to be a trick!"

  "Since when does Dawnbreaker need an excuse to kill people?"

  "Good point. Why is he making an excuse?"

  "Wait… what if he wants us to call his bluff, so he has a reason to kill more of us?"

  "HOLY SHIT, MAKE WAY!"

  WHOOSH.

  Like the parting of the Red Sea, a two-yard-wide path instantly opened up through the dense crowd.

  Kael was baffled. These were the same people who had started a world war over a grinding spot, and now they were acting this obediently? He was suspicious. Better to be safe than sorry.

  Mirror Image!

  Four identical copies of Dawnbreaker shimmered into existence.

  A collective gasp went through the crowd. Hearts pounded in thousands of chests.

  "See! I knew it! He's gonna do it!"

  "I've seen that skill! They're just clones, but they still hit like a truck! One arrow can wipe a whole squad!"

  "But we did what he asked! Why won't he spare us?"

  "Dawnbreaker is a demon! He doesn't need a reason to kill!"

  Flanked by his three clones, Kael stepped into the path, cautiously watching the players on either side.

  Just act natural, he told himself, forcing one foot in front of the other.

  The crowd held its breath, praying the demon would keep his word and just leave.

  Finally, Kael stepped past the last line of players, out of the most crowded area. A silent, collective sigh of relief went through the mob.

  Suddenly, Kael turned back. He offered them a slight, apologetic smile for the trouble.

  To the terrified players, however, it looked like a final farewell.

  "Oh god, is he going to send us all to the graveyard?"

  "There's no AOE skill with that kind of range, right?"

  "Anyone else, no. But with him? I wouldn't bet my life on it."

  They watched, paralyzed with fear, as Kael raised his right hand and gave a little wave.

  "Alright, you guys carry on. I'm heading out."

  As ten thousand players watched him walk away, someone in the crowd finally broke the silence, his voice filled with anguish.

  "WHAT ABOUT THE EXP?! WE WERE HERE TO GRIND!"

  Kael quickened his pace. Once he was clear of the crowd, he pulled out a scroll and warped back.