Game’s Dogma

The yin-yang symbol within Drako Yau came to a halt. The two opposing forces approached one another in what seemed to be a slow process that in fact took place in a mere moment.

The world shattered. Drako Yau’s body broke down from its perfect state to the brink of destruction. But he had been through more dangerous situations; he had attempted no less than 10,000 trials with the Cryoflame style ever since it became a part of him. The clash of ice and fire exploded within him, yet the explosion was absorbed calmly by the yin-yang symbol that merely watched the world burn as a bystander.

Drako Yau’s veins, skin, muscles, and bones all turned red. Still, his body withstood it. After using Flame Form so many times, his physical constitution was far beyond that of ordinary humans. The feral destructiveness was now a force at his disposal!

The spear clashed against the knife, shuddering the earth and the heavens. Butcherer turned as pale as a piece of paper and was thrown into the transparent dome surrounding the platform. He slumped to the ground, defeated. All he could do was stare at the spearman who stood still.

Sparks of fire and ice seeped from the gaps in his armour. His hair wavered in the air along with the flames that enveloped them; despite being capable of burning through everything, the flames somehow spared his hair, as if they were one to begin with.

He’s a demon god straight from the depths of the icy yet flaming hell! Butcherer grinned and said, “You’re strong!”

Drako Yau gazed into his eyes and asked, “Am I qualified now?”

“Who would dare say you’re not qualified now?”

Drako Yau nodded at his reply. “Send him my regards. Also, don’t send men to test me out anymore. Come fight me in person, or I’ll kill anyone he sends.”

Flames and ice were sprinkled across the platform. Each chunk of transparent ice revealed a spark within it, while balls of flames contained little pieces of ice. Butcherer saw an enlarging shadow before he turned monochrome—as all dead players did before they respawned as a lump of white light.

Drako Yau had thrown his spear, turning it into a shooting star worthy of its name, just like the time he had done in the Arena. White and red entwined as his spear shot out and drew an arc of aftershadows, then smashed Butcherer’s brains into smithereens.

The system’s rating? Internal forces, cultivation styles, and real-life techniques were beyond its calculations.

Drako Yau saw the glow on him dissipate as he returned to his normal self. His skin was still smoking though, making him look like a baked turkey right out of the oven. The yin-yang symbol within him started spinning again and tamed the two forces.

He looked at his palm and recalled the old geezer’s words: Become stronger, then escape from this place. Only by becoming stronger will you be able to do so.

The incident with Val down in the Abyss of Durin then came to mind—they had broken through the world’s fundamental constitution to break free. The strike just now was even more powerful than his attack in the abyss, the most powerful strike he had ever delivered to be exact. He knew it was beyond the realm of gaming, the system’s ratings, or any other calculations.

Still, it hadn’t broken through the world’s limit. And that meant he wasn’t strong enough to break free—simple as that.

Butcherer walked out of the resurrection altar. He ignored the stunned gazes of the Western players even though this was the first time he had ever died in the game. As he walked, his mind was occupied with thoughts. He instantly locked himself up in his conference room at the Four Generals’ stronghold.

After some time, he fished out a crystal and crushed it. Using the precious item again no longer pained him, for he had information the Divine King needed to know. A projection soon showed up in the room, still interfered by some sort of disturbance.

“Butcherer, why are you back here?”

“Sir, I met that masked man.”

“Oh? How was it?”

“Very strong.”

“How strong?”

“He killed me in one hit.”

It had technically been two hits, but he knew if the masked man had gone all out from the start, it would’ve been over in one. He then delivered Drako Yau’s message to the blonde young man.

Both parties turned silent. In fact, even Butcherer was stunned.

“Very well,” said the voice before the call ended abruptly.

They used the precious crystal for such a short conversation, yet the information delivered sounded rather useless. Yes, indeed, it wasn’t very useful for most people. However, value was subjective—for Zeus, it was of critical importance.

The man who once defeated me has grown even stronger.

“Let’s go,” Zeus walked across the platform, followed by a shadow, towards the staircase that led to the ninth floor.

Someone was waiting for them there: a dual gun wielder, Windstrider.

Windstrider had been maintaining a low profile ever since joining Drako Yau’s team. The powerful masked man came to mind whenever someone spoke of Dragon Alliance. Other notable members that were known by many were the violent Pyromage, the brutal Wolf King, the miracle healer Greenstone… The list could go on forever, but few would think of the name “Windstrider”.

Even so, it didn’t mean he was unimportant. Rather, his task was far more vital than any others because no one was willing to take it on. He had been managing Dragon Alliance, both internally and externally; his role was similar to that of Bloodless Bladester, though he had a lot more on his plate, all of which he handled splendidly.

No one would even mention Windstrider whenever discussions about the strongest players were brought up. Only his closest companions knew his true strength. While he most certainly wasn’t the best fighter of the bunch, he was the one whom they disliked sparring with the most.

And now, he was wielding his two trusty guns, this time in front of the blonde man instead of his companions.

“Who are you?” Zeus’ voice was calm despite the turbulence within him.

“Windstrider of Dragon Alliance.”

“Dragon Alliance, is it? An intriguing name. Do you know a powerful masked man from the Eastern server?”

“That’d be my boss.”

Plenty of players wore masks, but whenever someone spoke of a masked player on the Eastern server, only one person would come to mind.

“Great.” Zeus nodded and summoned his strange knight lance into his hands. “He just killed a companion of mine, it is my turn now.”

“Too many have fallen before my boss, so he can’t possibly remember them all. Perhaps you might be one of them?” Windstrider asked with a gentle smile.

The question hit Zeus’ sore spot, very much so. Who was he? A powerful and confident person who reigned in the West. Losing to Drako Yau had been weighing on his mind this entire time; even if they were nemesis, he would never want to lose again.

Zeus might have lost once, but he wouldn’t admit defeat so easily. And that was what made him such a terrifying fighter.

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