The Throne Room was a chaotic symphony of screaming players, shattering marble, and the relentless mechanical grinding of the King's spider-throne.
"Turn him away from the raid!" Elian bellowed, his voice amplified by the System to cut through the noise. "Tanks! If you see his eyes flash red, he's doing a Cleave attack! Face him toward the wall!"
A burly blacksmith named Torin, currently holding a tower shield he'd looted from a dead guard, was sweating profusely. He was Level 4, the highest-level "Tank" in the room.
"He's too heavy!" Torin grunted, digging his heels into the marble floor.
The Usurper King roared, his metallic voice screeching. "PAY YOUR TITHES!"
A massive golden scythe materialized in the King's hand. He swung it in a wide arc.
Torin ducked behind his shield. The impact sounded like a bell being struck by a train.
[Block Successful!]
[Damage Mitigated: 80%]
[Torin HP: 45 / 150]
"Heals on Torin!" Elian commanded. "Priests, stop trying to smack the boss with your maces and cast Minor Heal! You aren't DPS!"
Three Acolytes in the backline frantically waved their hands, sending streams of white light into the battered blacksmith. Torin's HP bar surged back to full just as the King raised his scythe again.
Elian watched from the balcony, analyzing the DPS charts floating in his vision. It was pathetic. Most players were dealing 1 or 2 damage per hit. But there were hundreds of them. It was death by a thousand papercuts.
[Boss HP: 42%]
"Phase Two approaching," Elian muttered. "Get ready for the mechanic change."
The King suddenly stopped attacking. He slammed the butt of his scythe into the floor. The golden coins that made up his eyes spun wildly.
"THE TREASURY IS EMPTY," the King boomed, his voice vibrating the very air. "FILL IT WITH YOUR SOULS."
A wave of golden energy pulsed outward from the throne.
[Boss Ability: TAXATION AURA (Active)]
[Effect: Drains 10 Gold Coins per second.]
[Penalty: If Gold = 0, target takes 50 True Damage.]
"My money!" a Rogue screamed as his coin pouch suddenly grew lighter.
"I don't have any money!" a peasant warrior yelled.
CRACK.
The peasant instantly turned into a golden statue and shattered.
"If you're broke, get out of the radius!" Elian shouted. "Everyone else, burn him down! He's channeling! He takes 20% increased damage while casting!"
The greed of the players suddenly worked in Elian's favor. Seeing their precious gold coins evaporating into thin air made them fight with a ferocity that bravery never could.
"Give me back my loot!" a Level 3 Berserker screamed, leaping onto the King's mechanical leg and hacking at the hydraulic joints with dual hatchets.
[Critical Hit! Damage: 15]
[Critical Hit! Damage: 18]
The King's armor began to crack. Molten gold bled from the wounds instead of blood.
[Boss HP: 15%]
"Finish it!" Elian ordered. "He's hitting the Enrage timer!"
The King let out a final, distorted shriek. The mechanical legs of the throne buckled. He fell forward, crawling toward the players, his hand reaching out.
"Mine..." the King rasped. "It is all... mine..."
Torin the Blacksmith stepped forward. With a roar, he slammed his shield edge directly into the King's coin-vortex eye.
[Critical Hit! Damage: 50]
The King froze. The light in his eyes flickered and died. The massive golden body turned gray and dull as the magic left it.
THUD.
The Usurper King collapsed into a heap of scrap metal and silence.
For a moment, nobody moved. The survivors looked at each other, panting, bleeding, and confused.
Then, the System fanfare played—a triumphant, orchestral blast that rang out across the entire Capital City.
[WORLD ANNOUNCEMENT]
[The World Boss 'Usurper King Tybalt' has been slain!]
[First Clear achieved by: The People of Tyria.]
[Reputation with The Kingdom of Tyria: REVERED.]
Cheers erupted. Men hugged strangers. Mages fired sparks into the air.
Elian didn't cheer. He was watching the corpse.
"Here comes the messy part," he whispered.
The King's body dissolved into motes of light. In its place, a massive, ornate chest appeared. It was the size of a coffin, encrusted with rubies and glowing with a legendary orange aura.
[King's Treasury Chest (Legendary)]
The cheering stopped instantly.
Five hundred pairs of eyes locked onto the chest. The camaraderie of the battle evaporated in a millisecond, replaced by the cold, hard calculation of loot distribution.
"I tanked him!" Torin shouted, stepping toward the chest. "I took the hits!"
"I did the most damage!" the Berserker argued, raising his axes.
"I healed you both!" an Acolyte shrieked.
Elian leaned over the balcony railing. "Nobody touch it!"
They ignored him. The mob surged forward.
Hands grabbed the lid of the chest.
CLICK.
The lid flew open. A pillar of orange light shot up to the ceiling.
Items spilled out, floating in the air for all to see.
[The Crown of Avarice] (Legendary Helm) - Increases Gold find by 500%. Curses user with 'Paranoia'.
[Scepter of the Golden Sun] (Epic Staff) - Fire damage scales with current Gold in inventory.
[Guild Creation Token] (Unique Item) - Allows the formation of a formal Guild.
[Gold Coins x 50,000]
The silence was deafening. That amount of gold could buy the city. The Crown could make someone a god.
"Mine!" a rogue shouted, leaping for the Crown.
"Back off!" Torin swung his shield, knocking the rogue out of the air.
A brawl erupted. It wasn't a raid anymore; it was a riot. Players were killing players over the pixels.
Elian sighed. He tapped his wrist interface.
[Admin Command: /loot_distribution_mode = RANDOM_ROLL]
Suddenly, a giant, spectral 100-sided die appeared above the chest. It spun rapidly.
"What is this?" Torin gasped, freezing mid-punch.
"The System decides," Elian's voice echoed. "You behave like children, you get treated like gamblers."
The die stopped spinning.
[Rolling for: The Crown of Avarice]
[Winner: User_Peasant_Timmy (Level 1)]
[Roll: 100]
A stunned-looking teenager in rags, who had been hiding in the corner the entire fight, suddenly found the Legendary Crown deposited into his inventory.
The mob turned to look at Timmy.
Timmy looked at the mob.
"Run, kid," Elian muttered.
Timmy turned and sprinted out the side door, clutching his invisible inventory. The mob chased after him, screaming.
Within seconds, the throne room was empty, save for the wreckage and the lingering smell of ozone.
Elian dropped down from the balcony. He walked over to the empty spot where the chest had been. There was one item left on the ground—a small, unassuming scroll that nobody had noticed in the frenzy for the gold.
Elian picked it up.
[Blueprint: Mana Siphon Tower]
"Interesting," Elian mused. "The King was building something before he turned."
He pocketed the blueprint.
[Quest Updated: The Alpha Tester]
Objective 1: Survive the System Creation.
(Complete)
Objective 2: Defeat the First Glitch. (Complete)
Objective 3: Establish a functioning economy. (In Progress)
New Objective: Investigate the 'Void Signals' coming from the North.
Elian walked toward the broken throne. He sat down on the steps, exhausted.
"Query," he said.
"Yes, Administrator?"
"How long until the next World Boss spawns?"
"Calculating... Based on current mana accumulation rates: 7 Days."
Elian closed his eyes. "Seven days to get these idiots ready for the real war."
He opened his eyes and looked at the Global Chat, which was now filled with people arguing about who stole whose loot.
"We're going to need a bigger banhammer."