The legendary voice actress Heartbroken Loli activated all-channel voice chat. Her expression was solemn, her voice sharp enough to make angels flinch.
"They fear us. They dread us. They see us as heretics!"
"But we will heed the lament of the dead! Let our magic and steel pierce their souls!"
"Victory or defeat will be decided now! All who step into the territory of Forever City…"
She paused, then raised her Frost Greatsword high and roared, "Die! Die! Die!"
Three deafening cries of death rang through the sky above the battlefield, shaking the morale of the enemy, piercing through their armor, and shattering their very souls.
The Godslayer alliance roared in unison, their battle cries echoing across the world of Infinite Dimensions.
"This is momentum! This is war!"
In the livestream studio, SirLagsALot burst into tears, screaming like a madman, "This is the fury of Godslayer! Charge, my friends! Slay them all! Drag the Celestial Kingdom into hell!"
In-game and out, players punched the air and shouted with all their might, as if their passion alone could rewrite fate itself.
Orson's black hair whipped in the wind as he rode the Death God Dragon King, circling above Forever City. His Supreme Arcane Blade gleamed with light.
Blank stared dazedly at his silhouette, eyes brimming with tears. She reached for him—only to grab empty air.
She had wanted to tell him to stay behind, to command from safety, to grind the enemy down slowly, abusing the players' infinite respawns to bleed Jenonis dry—then finish it with a fatal blow.
She'd come to understand him too well.
Stubborn to the core. If Orson said it, he meant it.
No matter how dark he looked on the outside, he was softer than anyone she'd ever met.
A big, stupid, gentle idiot.
"Godslayer players—CHARGE!"
"Godslayer is UNSTOPPABLE!"
"Even God himself better kneel today!"
The gates of Forever City opened.
Only fifty-two flight mechs remained. They marched with unwavering determination, their footsteps like war drums.
Over a hundred arcane-engineered war chariots rolled forward behind the Iron Cavalry. The eyes of every Godslayer player were blood-red with fury.
They'd been doubted. Laughed at. Called a flash-in-the-pan guild with no future in Infinite Dimensions.
Most weren't pros or whales.
They were everyday people—wage slaves, delivery drivers, Uber guys, warehouse workers, small-time streamers.
Born small. Destined to die forgotten.
But under that man's banner, they now bore one name—
They would wage war on the gods.
They would climb to divinity on their own broken bones.
"They actually dare to charge? Just as the Archangel predicted, these adventurers are fools," scoffed Hill Dwarf King Enderoth.
Behind him, the Wood Elf clan rode massive moose-like beasts, grim-faced.
Over five thousand yellow-skinned, long-limbed Wood Elf archers loosed their arrows, a torrential downpour of enchanted bolts designed to pierce even Imperial armor.
Iron Cavalry bellowed. Twenty defensive mechs moved in unison, their jetpacks roaring to life.
"Holy crap, that's not a wall—that's a mountain!"
In seconds, a towering fifty-meter wall of steel and magic rose, taking the brunt of the arrowstorm. Sparks flew as wave after wave of arrows clanged off the mech plating.
The audience gaped. Arrows with over 5,000 attack power couldn't even scratch the Godslayer shield wall.
These Titan Mechs were Boss-tier in their own right. Defensive models could even tank Dragonfire.
So long as the pilot survived, basic piercing attacks were useless.
"Suppressive fire! Bait squad, move out!" Iron Cavalry ordered coldly.
The first wave had been completely nullified. The shield wall dispersed, and the assault mechs raised their Arcane Burst Rifles to the sky, loosing flaming death in massive arcs.
Explosions erupted across the battlefield, flames consuming ranks of Wood Elves. Their formation shattered as screams filled the air.
"They can match the range of our archers?!" Wood Spirit King gasped.
"These savages really don't understand proper tactics. Ever heard of scattered formation?" Iron Cavalry sneered.
Magic rifles needed no aim. No guidance.
Their bombs could fly over ten kilometers and still detonate with full power.
Precision? Who needed it, when the enemy huddled in clusters?
A second volley followed. Enderoth shouted, "Stoneguard, forward!"
Ten thousand Hill Dwarves dismounted. Their porcupine-like mounts began to petrify, while Wood Elf archers retreated behind their stony backs.
Water Elementalists followed up. "Barrier of Water!"
Blue walls surged into the air, absorbing much of the cannon fire. The Titan Mech assault was blunted.
"Freaking shields and barriers. So annoying," Iron Cavalry muttered. Long-range was losing effectiveness. He charged forward, covering twenty thousand allied players as they advanced.
But Wood Spirit King was no fool. He quickly adjusted, ordering his archers to spread out and resume long-range bombardment.
Dozens of players dropped dead. Enderoth sneered, "Pathetic ants."
In less than thirty seconds, over six thousand players had died. The arrowstorm tore them to shreds.
"I'm gonna die… and I LOVE IT!"
"Come at me! I'm level 20—I can die 190 times!"
Yet bizarrely, every player who fell came back laughing. Every death only fired them up more.
Enderoth charged, the Hill Dwarves mounting a pincer move atop their stone beasts, hoping to crush the Godslayer flank in one swift strike.
"Morons. You just triggered the trap."
Iron Cavalry smirked.
"Retreat!" he shouted on comms.
His command vehicle pulled a slick drift and reversed course, dragging low-level players with him.
"Crush them! The glory of conquest is ours!" Enderoth shouted.
His forces gave chase, over 100,000 troops splitting off from the Imperial main force in pursuit.
As they neared Forever City, now less than a kilometer away, Iron Cavalry reversed course, driving full speed into the city. Titan Mechs flew skyward.
The retreating players all turned as one—grinning.
"Abandoning your comrades? Typical Orgod scum!" Enderoth howled in laughter.
Far off, Imperial Marshal Hugh Jackman froze. His face twisted in horror.
"Get back! It's a trap!"
Enderoth frowned. He scoffed at Hugh.
A massive dragon shadow passed overhead. Orson stood atop it, eyes cold as ice.
"You seriously command two entire spirit clans with that brain? I pity them."
He soared above the battlefield. His blade thrummed with power.
"Awaken—Grip of the Underworld!"
A monstrous divine hand descended, crashing before the Imperial army.
"What the hell? He missed?"
Dust flew as the hand landed seemingly harmlessly.
"Wait… he's blocking the path?" the commentators gasped.
A chaotic six-pointed star lit up in the sky.
A stone dragon burst from the ground like a massive vine, twisting and sprawling to block the narrow valley between the cliffs.
"Changing the terrain to trap them? Nice idea, but this won't be enough."
"Look! The Imperial army is flanking through open terrain!"
Blank frowned. One man trying to block a full kilometer-wide line…