Chapter 571: Avenderdan
Victoria Port, Lower District, Wilson Block.
The streets were bustling with peopleâfishmongers, devotees of the Sea Queen, shirtless dockworkers, and even clusters of gang members.
Among them, the playersâreferred to as the "Undying" by the localsâactually blended in quite naturally.
"Starting in Victoria is hell. We canât enter the Upper District, and the Lower District is a chaotic mess full of mixed factions."
"If Iâd known, I wouldâve picked the Ember Empire. They went straight into a demon war, and some people are already level six."
"Tell me about it. I completed a mission perfectly, and a gang still silenced me. They even tied my corpse to rocks and tossed me into the sea. Ruthless."
"Classic backstabbing. Thatâs why they call Erezaghe a âSin City.â Thatâs the thrill, right?"
"Haha, my buddyâs already a bishop in some underground cult. If I canât make it here, Iâll just join him."
"Heâs the founder of that âUndying God Cultâ? The one who says all his followers can become Undying?"
"Damn, people actually believe that crap?"
The players chatted as they walked toward the lone towering structure that clashed with the rundown buildings around itâtheir destination: the Tower by the Coast.
"Out of all the factions in Victoria Port, the Tower by the Coast gives the best rewards."
"Yeah, and everyone says that mysterious NPC is no ordinary guy. Supposedly, he took down both the Black Hand Gang and the Blood Sea Cult."
"Gotta seize the chance to earn some favor. Maybe weâll get to join the Tower by the Coast."
Outside the Tower, players crowded around, chatting noisily, yet still making way for the central path as the servants inside instructed. They waited outside to turn in quests.
A servant opened the door and said, "Next."
"Me! I was here first!"
A tall, burly player pushed through the crowd and rushed inside.
Facing the mysterious NPC in gray robes and a half-smiling face, the player bowed at a perfect 90° angle:
"Honored Hermit, weâve uncovered some clues about the Cult of the Overgod. Please, have a look!"
He pulled a stinking, damp package from his inventory and offered it with both hands.
Inside was the rotting, maggot-infested head of the missing tavern ownerâJoel Nason. It had been soaked in seawater for days.
The player treated it like a treasure, even decapitating the corpse to present it as a token to the Hermit.
"Truly a player..."
Cassius, playing the Hermit, sighed inwardly but accepted the head without changing expression.
"Very well, Undying. You completed my task. A reward is due."
"Clink."
The Hermit waved casually, and a few gold coins appeared on the wooden table before the player.
Seeing the glinting coins and the screen notificationsâ"Favorability +5", "EXP +500"âthe playerâs eyes lit up.
His knees gave out and he wailed, "Thank you, Honored Hermit! Youâre like a second father to me! I was an orphan, unloved, wandering into Victoria Port. Your Tower gave me warmth and a sense of home."
"Go on, stop wasting time."
Despite the playerâs tearful performance, the maid with a broom unceremoniously kicked him out.
Sheâd seen too many Undying try to join the Tower lately. That oneâs story wasnât even the worstâsome put on full dramatic plays.
"Next."
Another player came in, wearing a sycophantic smile. He approached the Hermit and handed over a sack.
"Honored Hermit, I went through hell and finally found Joel Nasonâs hand."
He opened the sack to reveal a bloody, equally rotting severed hand.
Cassius, still acting as the Hermit, twitched his lips at the sight, thinking:
"Really now, theyâre turning Joel Nason into parts and turning in one at a time for rewards? Trying to bug-abuse me?"
With a dark look, the Hermit glared at the player and said coldly, "Your companion already turned in a task. Donât play games with me, Undying."
"Y-yes, sir."
The player apologized profusely, nearly in tears, blaming his teammate for screwing him over.
"Heh. The Victoria Port setup is nearly complete."
Cassius smirked at the endless flow of players at the Towerâs gate.
As "Erezaghe" gained popularity, players appeared all across the Faenso Continentâeasily over ten million of them.
The players just now were well-known professionals in their past lives. Their squad was infamously called the "Degenerate Team."
In the previous life, this team caused havoc across Faensoâlike dismantling sacred relics of the Ammanata Church and provoking Divine Punishment. That was their mageâs doing.
Cassius planned to use Victoria Port as a base and the Undying to build a new organizationâa growing intelligence network to counter the Mind Flayer plot.
The Chosen of the Three Death Gods had stolen Karsasâ Crown from hell and taken control of the Mind Flayer Overmind by wielding the three Netherstones.
They aimed to merge Nether magic with the Overmind and crown it as the "Overgod," seeking to rule the world.
Yet the Mind Flayers, while being used, were also trying to use the Crown to break free and restore their ancient empire.
Gods like the Goddess of Magic, the God of Justice, the Sun God, and even Hellâs Dukes had all meddled in this mess, each seeking advantage.
In such a tangled web, exposing his true identity would be reckless.
As the Hermit, Cassius aimed to use players to sabotage the plans, stir up chaos, and fish in troubled watersâseizing Karsasâ Crown at the last moment.
According to his plan, by then, the Ember Empire wouldâve conquered the Kingdom of Thrace and could move westward under the banner of "resisting the Mind Flayer invasion"âclaiming Victoria Port.
"Karsasâ Crown, Victoria Port, the legacy of the Mind Flayer Empire... I want it all."
With that thought, the Hermit gripped his bronze staff, a flicker of greed flashing in his pale green eyes.
Northeastern Faenso Continent, Blackstone Mountain.
This mountain range stretched thousands of miles, like a slumbering beast from ancient mythsâhome of the Highland Kingdom, the dwarvesâ shared homeland.
Made of hard black stone and rich with precious minerals, it earned its name: Blackstone Mountain.
Bitter winds howled as a mighty fortress stood deep in the mountainsâcapital of the Highland Kingdom and the greatest Dwarven fortress of the Northshield Dwarves: Avenderdan, "The City That Never Collapses."
Its weathered outer walls were built from massive stone blocks, moss growing between cracks, each stone bearing the mark of time.
The gate, forged from oak and steel, was carved with the royal dwarven crestâcrossed shield and warhammer.
The surrounding rock faces bore carvings of ancestral tales, with giant iron fists as door knockers.
At the summit stood a nearly hundred-meter statue of Moradin, Dwarven God, lifelike and watching all who entered.
Inside the fortress, the style was rugged and bold. Stone corridors connected rooms, torches blazed overhead, casting warm light.
Busy dwarves moved in the firelight, and the clanging of hammers echoed nonstop.
At the tower peak, a dwarf in a thick fur coat and mithril crown watched his people below with a grave expression.
His name was Edd Kline, ruler of Avenderdan, King of the Highland Kingdom, known to his people as "King Edd."
Behind him, an old dwarf sighed: "Your Majesty, all envoys have returned. The three great kingdoms are locked in conflict and canât aid us.
The elders of Serenia laugh at the ancient sacred pact. The filthy spawn of Gruumsh are about to return in force. Weâ"
He was Bjorn Riley, over two hundred years old, a senior minister of the Highland Kingdom.
Eddâs face turned stormy, his thick beard bristled, and his hands trembled on his warhammer.
"Those arrogant, rotten elves dare act this way? Are they not afraid of divine wrath? If not for our dwarves shedding blood in the north, holding back orc invasions, would they enjoy peace now?"
Bjorn stepped forward and handed over a neatly written letter: "Your Majesty, though Sereniaâs council wonât help, their queen is willing to send troops. We just need to wait."
"The Elf Queen?"
The dwarf king snorted. "What good is her letter? Sheâs just a puppet for the elven elders."
Bjorn quietly added: "Your Majesty, the Twilight Bladeâwho slew a red dragon aloneâis her staunch supporter. A powerful Legendary Paladin. Winning her over would be a big help."
Eddâs anger softened slightly. He nodded: "Thatâs something. Reply to the golden canary queenâsay we need the Twilight Bladeâs aid.
But even a Legendary Paladin is just one person. It wonât change the warâs outcome.
Besides, the orcs will soon arrive. By noon, theyâll be at our gates."
Edd gazed north. On the desolate plateau, shadowy torrents appearedâit was the orc legions.
For thousands of years, Avenderdan had repelled over a dozen orc invasions. Though stained with enemy blood, it was never taken.
But now, Faenso was in chaos, and the Highland Kingdom stood aloneâno human or elven allies.
King Edd gripped his warhammer and declared: "So be it. Weâll fight alone if we must.
Bjorn, summon our Warriors. Have them gather at the mountainâs base."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Soon, the dwarf king stood atop Avenderdanâs towering walls.
Below, in Moradinâs gaze, armored dwarves packed the foothills, many riding mountain rams.
They were the Highland Kingdomâs eliteâShield Guards.
Each wore master-crafted, near-impenetrable armor, gleaming like polished steel.
Wielding heavy warhammers, most were seasoned Professionalsâloyal to King Edd and devout followers of Moradin.
The dwarf king surveyed his troops, then shouted:
"My people!
For thousands of years, our Highland Kingdom has repelled thirteen orc invasionsâdriving Gruumshâs followers back north each time.
But now, you knowâtheyâre back! These gray-skinned bastards want our fortress! Our kin, our comrades! They want dwarves as slaves!
Do you agree?"
"No!"
"Kill them!"
"Drive those gray bastards north!"
Dwarven warriors raised warhammers and oak shields, roaring in fury.
Edd looked grim. His eyes swept across every angry face, and he raised his warhammer to point ahead:
"Thousands of years ago, Moradin and the Elven God defeated Gruumsh. Serenia and we made a sacred pact to resist northern invasion.
But now, the proud elves betrayed us! And Fadlanâs humans are in chaos.
We must prove to the worldâthe mighty Highland Kingdom needs no help! Even alone, we dwarves will drive out those orc bastards!"
Eddâs voice grew louder. He swung his warhammer and cried: "Behind you is Avenderdan! Your kin! Your friends! If you wonât be slavesâthen drive them out!"
"Drive them out!"
"Weâll crush the orc bastards!"
The dwarves roared louder, their voices echoing through the cliffs like tidal waves.
Meanwhile, the orc horde appeared just kilometers away, roaring in rage, eyes locked on the mountain fortress.