The massive brass bell in the heart of Soltaris rang with a frantic, aggressive urgency. It wasn't the rhythmic tolling that marked the hour; it was an emergency summons, forcing every citizen to gather at the grand plaza in front of the Lord's castle.
The crisp morning air, usually bustling with lively merchants, was heavy with dread. Dark clouds blanketed the sky. Standing guard at every street leading into the plaza were soldiers clad in bizarre, imposing armor—pitch-black plate metal accented with blood-red engravings.
Sera, Mila, and Elise, wearing their faded tavern maid uniforms draped under tattered cloaks, squeezed themselves into the dense crowd of villagers. The vampire's crimson eyes swept the area with covert precision. She spotted Thom and Dane blending in with the outer perimeter of the city's standard guards. She saw Lars and Nina standing idly near a fruit cart. And at the very front row, standing alongside the Adventurer's Guild staff, was Talia.
With a fleeting fraction of a second, their eyes met, confirming their positions before instantly reverting to the terrified expressions of ordinary NPCs.
On the marble balcony of the castle, Lord Reginald—the familiar, ruling nobleman of Soltaris—was currently kneeling on the stone floor, his body trembling. Standing tall in front of him was the new lord of the city: a hulking man in heavy, crimson knight armor. A vicious scar ran across his eye, and the massive cape billowing behind him bore a terrifying emblem—a skull pierced by crossed swords.
The crest of the Crimson Order.
"Citizens of Soltaris!" The new lord's booming voice was amplified by a magical artifact, echoing like thunder across the plaza. "I am Commander Warran of the Crimson Order. As of this moment, this city falls under our protection and rule. The weak, outdated laws are abolished. Soltaris is now a fortress!"
Murmurs of panic rippled through the crowd, but the deafening thud of the black-armored soldiers slamming their spears against the cobblestone instantly silenced them.
"But before we establish our new order..." Warran's hawk-like gaze swept over the sea of people below. "I was informed that there are certain 'Visitors' trying to hide within this city..."
Sera's heart skipped a beat. She subconsciously clenched her fists, but forced her face to pale in feigned terror like the peasant woman standing next to her.
Warran raised his right hand. Immediately, four black-armored soldiers waded through the crowd, marching straight toward a group of independent adventurers. They leveled their spears, pointing the blades directly at the face of a young man standing in the center.
Sera followed their gaze and had to suppress a heavy sigh. The man was wearing a breathtaking set of Dragon-hide leather armor, etched with faintly glowing blue runes. A pair of gleaming, high-tier twin blades hung at his waist. It was a spectacular, glorious endgame set in the game... but standing amidst a crowd of peasants wearing muddy burlap sacks, he stuck out like a sore thumb.
"The system interface might be gone. We might not be able to scan your stats anymore," Warran sneered, looking down from the balcony. "But did you really think that flashy, rune-carved armor—something no blacksmith in this world could ever forge—would blend in with these farmers? Your stupidity shines brighter than a torch in the dark. You are an independent player, aren't you?"
Realizing his cover was blown by his sheer carelessness over his wardrobe, the dual-blade youth dropped the act. The fear in his eyes was replaced by the ferocious glare of a high-level gamer. He ground his teeth. "Yeah! So what?! Wasn't bulldozing your way through Ironclad enough for you bastards? You have to come here and harass people who just want to be left alone?!"
"In a world without rules, weakness is a sin," Warran declared coldly. "The Crimson Order is forging a new, stronger world, and we need manpower. I will give you a choice. Kneel, swear fealty to my army... or die exactly where you stand."
"Join a guild of power-hungry dictators?" The youth spat on the cobblestone. "In your dreams! I'm Level 100 just like you! Did you really think I'd bow my head so easily?!"
With that defiant roar, the dual-blade youth erupted in a tempest of pale green aura. Activating high-tier skills, his Agility stats broke past mortal limits. He launched himself into the air like a fired arrow, aiming to vault over the rooftops and escape the plaza.
But he severely underestimated the coordinated military might of the Crimson Order.
"Kill him," Warran ordered flatly.
Before the youth could even touch the edge of the roof, four magically infused iron chains shot out from the shadows of the surrounding buildings. They wrapped around his arms and legs with deadly precision in mid-air!
"Gah!" The youth lost his momentum. Four black-armored soldiers—all pure Tank classes—yanked the chains simultaneously, dragging him down from the sky. He slammed into the stone plaza with enough force to shatter the cobblestone beneath him.
"Get off me!" The youth roared. He triggered [Blade Storm], spinning his twin swords into a localized tornado of steel to shred the soldiers around him. The damage output of a Level 100 player was strong enough to slice stone pillars in half.
Yet, the Crimson Order soldiers simply stepped forward in perfect unison, raising magically reinforced Tower Shields that flawlessly deflected the onslaught. They operated as a singular, systematic machine built explicitly to neutralize other players.
The brawl began, but calling it a brawl was too generous. It was a systematic slaughter.
The youth desperately threw every skill in his arsenal—smoke bombs, dash strikes, illusion clones. But every single move was perfectly countered. The mages on the balcony cast dispels to wipe his illusions. The spearmen struck his blind spots. The hammer-wielders crushed his casting rhythms.
Five minutes. That was all it took. The dual-blade player was drenched in his own blood. The stats and classes that once made him a god in the old world meant absolutely nothing against a militarized squad of Level 100 veterans working as a cohesive unit.
"Arghhh!"
In the final minute, Commander Warran leaped from the balcony. His massive, blood-red greatsword pierced straight through the youth's chest, pinning him to the stone. The player coughed up a massive pool of crimson blood. His legs twitched violently before his eyes rolled back, and he died a pathetic, agonizing death in front of tens of thousands of terrified citizens.
There was no golden pixelated death effect. There was no respawn notification. Just a lifeless corpse and a very real pool of blood seeping into the stone grooves.
A dead silence fell over the Soltaris plaza. Some villagers dropped to their knees, weeping in pure terror. Warran yanked his sword from the corpse, coldly flicking the blood off the blade before turning to the crowd.
"This is the end for those who reject the strength of the Crimson Order! If there are any other 'Visitors' hiding among you out of sheer cowardice, look at this corpse! Soltaris belongs to us!"
Amidst the trembling crowd, Sera stood perfectly still, a cold sweat breaking out along her hairline. That fight took only five minutes... Five minutes to reduce a top-tier player into a mangled corpse on the street.
Sera discreetly glanced at Talia in the distance. Her Guild Leader's face remained an unreadable mask, but her knuckles were white, indicating she was intensely analyzing the brutal display.
The execution proved two undeniable facts. One: Being Level 100 did not make you immortal against a coordinated raid. And two: Talia's decision to craft dirty peasant clothes and utilize the cosmetic system on day one was the ultimate trump card that had just saved all eighteen of their lives.
This new world was no place for fools clinging to their vanity.
The stench of blood still lingered heavily in the air. Warran stared indifferently at the corpse before stepping back to the edge of the marble balcony.
He gestured behind him. Lord Reginald, the former ruler of Soltaris, scrambled forward on his knees. Though the old nobleman's face was pale and stripped of all dignity, he was alive and completely unharmed.
"Look upon your Lord as an example!" Warran's voice boomed. "The Crimson Order did not come to slaughter the innocent. Lord Reginald is a man of wisdom. He realized the rules of this world have changed, and he chose to submit and swear loyalty to us. Because of that intellect, he keeps his life, his title, and will assist me in managing this city."
Whispers rippled through the terrified crowd. Seeing their old lord alive managed to defuse a fraction of the suffocating tension.
"But listen closely, people of Soltaris!" Warran barked. "Peace has a price! To the east, the city of Lumina has fallen to the zealot scumbags calling themselves 'The Oracle'. They are cowardly heretics, using the will of the gods as an excuse to pull the strings of your kings. They are parasites draining this land. And my intelligence confirms... they are currently raising an army to march on Soltaris!"
Gasps of horror erupted. The word 'war' sent the citizens into a frenzy. Standing in the crowd, Sera frowned. The Oracle is coming here? No wonder the Crimson Order rushed to seize this city. It's the frontline fortress.
Warran raised a hand, demanding silence. "You are afraid. I know. In the past, when war came, the nobles would rip your husbands and sons from their homes, shove a wooden spear into their hands, and send them to die on the front lines as cannon fodder..."
The red-armored commander glared down with absolute authority. "But I declare this right now! Under the banner of the Crimson Order, not a single villager or farmer will be drafted to die on the battlefield!"
The declaration left the entire plaza stunned, including Talia's disguised guild members.
"This war is a war of the Ascended! My soldiers are warriors akin to gods! We, the Crimson Order, will crush The Oracle and defend these walls with our own blood and steel!" Warran roared. "What I demand from you is not your lives... but an ocean of raw materials!"
He pointed at the merchants, the laborers, and the farmers. "I do not want you wasting time forging trash swords or garbage armor for my army! The Crimson Order possesses Master Blacksmiths far beyond your comprehension! What I need is pure iron ore, monster hides, lumber, and rations!
Every smelter must burn day and night! Every field must be harvested! The city guards will only handle internal peace and thieves! You will funnel those raw materials into our military vaults without end, so we can forge high-tier armaments and reinforce these walls. Do your jobs to your utmost limits, and I personally guarantee your lives and your safety!"
As Warran finished his speech, the black-armored soldiers slammed their spears into the ground in perfect unison. Thud! Thud! Thud! The overwhelming display of power and the promise of protection caused many citizens to subconsciously drop to their knees, bowing to their new rulers.
Up in the bell tower, Talia watched the scene unfold through the window of the Adventurer's Guild. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, her eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.
"Brilliant..." Talia muttered softly to herself. "Execute a player to strike fear into your enemies, but enforce a no-draft policy, spare the old lord, and extort only raw materials to feed your own crafters... This man isn't just brute force. He understands the mechanics of this world perfectly. He is turning the entire NPC population into a willing, loyal resource farm."
Back in the plaza, Sera hid behind a plump peasant woman and let out a long sigh. She looked at Mila and Elise, who were equally pale.
Their original plan to 'frame' or cause chaos in this city had just become ten times harder. The Crimson Order wasn't ruling through fear alone anymore; they had just established themselves as the 'Protectors' of Soltaris.
If Sera's group sabotaged the supplies or disrupted the logistics now, the first people to rise up against them wouldn't be the Crimson Order soldiers... it would be the citizens of Soltaris who fully believed in Warran's policies.
"Looks like our little waitress job... is going to require a lot more digging than we thought," Sera whispered to her friends, a challenging glint returning to her crimson eyes.