Chapter 194 Flame Fiend
The Ruins of the White Sands were a desolate expanse, a proving ground for those seeking to rise in the ranks of Divine Realms: Legends.
"Martial Alliance acts like they own the place. They kill without a second thought, have zero respect for us free players. Just wait, once I'm strong enough, I'll put those Martial Alliance bastards in their place."
"Quiet, you want to get us killed? Did you miss what happened to those two squads earlier? One wrong look and they were slaughtered."
"What are we supposed to do? We're outmatched, we have to pick our battles."
"If we were part of even a third-rate guild, Martial Alliance wouldn't dare to act so high and mighty."
"Captain, why don't we join a guild already? With our skills, we could easily get into a decent one."
"A guild, huh? It's not a bad idea. Let's wait till we get to Silvervale City. Assassin's Alliance might be top dog in Willowbrook Town, but they're small fry in the city. We'll have our pick of top-tier guilds there."
The six-person team, seasoned players all, continued their search for a suitable monster grinding spot. They understood the reality of their situation – without the backing of a powerful guild, they were easy prey for those who did.
Suddenly, a lone figure approached. "Excuse me," Eric asked, "Do you happen to know where I might find Martial Alliance?" He had been scouring the Ruins for hours, with no sign of them.
"We do," the captain replied, eyeing Eric cautiously. "Why? Planning on joining them?" He couldn't see Eric's name or level, but a solo player seeking out Martial Alliance? It seemed obvious.
His words had an immediate effect on the rest of the team. Their expressions hardened, eyes burning with a mixture of resentment and fear. They had been on the receiving end of Martial Alliance's ruthlessness, and the memory was still fresh. If not for being outnumbered…
Eric had picked up on their conversation, sensing their simmering rage. He knew that revealing his true intentions would be unwise.
"Join them?" Eric chuckled, feigning amusement. "No, nothing like that. I have some… business to discuss with them. If you could point me in the right direction, this is yours." He produced a gleaming silver coin.
For most players, a silver coin represented a day's worth of grinding. Even for skilled players, it was a significant sum.
The captain's eyes flickered to the coin, then back to Eric. "Generous, aren't we?" He spoke quickly to his team through their private chat. "This guy's loaded. We play this right, we could score enough to cover those weapon repairs. Thoughts?"
"I'm in. He reeks of Martial Alliance, let's make him pay for their sins."
"Captain's call, I'm ready."
The consensus was clear.
The captain turned back to Eric, a predatory smile spreading across his face. "You see, friend, we have a bit of a history with Martial Alliance. Let's just say they haven't been… kind. And since you seem to be on good terms with them, and so generous… how about you help even the score a little? Twenty silver coins and all your gear, and we'll happily tell you where to find them. Deal?" The other team members fanned out, flanking Eric, their smiles anything but friendly.
"I told you," Eric said, his voice calm but firm, "I have no affiliation with Martial Alliance. This is purely business. If you're not willing to share the information, so be it. Now, step aside."
"We're not letting you go that easily. You brought up Martial Alliance, you're fair game. I don't know what level you are, but you look like a level eight or nine. Losing a level now would set you back a day or two, wouldn't it? Think carefully." The Guardian Knight captain unsheathed his sword and hefted his shield, a mocking glint in his eyes.
Eric couldn't help but laugh. It was pathetic, really. They were victims of bullying themselves, yet here they were, ready to prey on someone they perceived as weaker.
"What's so funny?" the Assassin snarled. "Laugh again and I'll carve that smile off your face!"
"You want money?" Eric's voice turned cold. "I'll give you a front-row ticket to hell."
He drew the Abyssal Blade, the weapon bursting into life with an icy blue fire – the Frost Azure Flame. He felt no pity for these would-be extortionists.
With a flick of his wrist, a storm of sword shadows erupted, engulfing the group. They were skilled, yes, but against Eric's speed and power, they were hopelessly outmatched.
The world dissolved into a blur of steel and blue fire. When the dust settled, only the Guardian Knight captain remained, his comrades lying lifeless on the ground, their equipment scorched and broken. Even their higher levels couldn't compensate for their lack of quality gear. The Frost Azure Flame had made short work of their bronze-grade equipment.
"Now," Eric asked the captain, his voice deceptively calm, "are you ready to tell me where I can find Martial Alliance?"
The captain could only stare, his mind reeling. The flames, the speed, the effortless slaughter… it dawned on him that he had stumbled upon something far more terrifying than a mere player. This was a Flame Fiend, a being of legend, wielding the very fire of the abyss.
"Yes, yes! I'll tell you!" he stammered, his bravado gone. "They're camped out in a depression to the southwest, near a network of caves."
"Good." Eric's voice offered no comfort. He ended the captain's misery with a swift stroke, then turned and headed towards his target.
The screams of the resurrected players echoed through Willowbrook Town, their rage and despair echoing across the digital ether. Not only had they lost a level, their shoddy equipment was destroyed, leaving them unable to hunt or progress.
And so, the legend of the Flame Fiend was born. A cloaked figure, face hidden, wielding twin blades of black and white, his wrath swift and merciless. Those who crossed his path, who dared to withhold information, were left with nothing but regret and a pile of broken gear.
Eric, however, remained oblivious to the fear he instilled. He had a target, and nothing would stand in his way.
"There you are, ZephyrStrider."
He stood on a ridge, gazing down at a chaotic scene. Over a hundred players, all level nine and on the cusp of ten, battled a swarm of Tri-Tail Venom Scorpions. Leading the assault, barking orders, was ZephyrStrider. But something was off. His experience bar was climbing at an unnatural rate, already surpassing level ten.
Eric quickly understood. ZephyrStrider wasn't grouped with his men. He was hanging back, delivering the final blows, claiming the lion's share of experience points. A clever, if somewhat dishonorable, tactic.
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