Hey everyone, So, a little while back I mentioned I was working on something new. Well, I'm excited to finally share it with you all. My new book: I'm the Only Player With Max Luck! , is officially out!

I've poured my heart into this one and really believe it's a step up. If you enjoyed this story, I think you'll love the new one. Please check it out on my profile. Your support will very much be appreciated. Thanks for sticking with me.

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The four Dark Horde players stood silently in the distance. Even if they had spoken, Ryan would not have understood them; communication depended entirely on the Alliance members present to relay their words outside the game.

"If you can, take out those Black Phantom guys with extreme prejudice," the Human Paladin who had just dueled Ryan relayed grimly. Then, with a pointed look, he added, "They're the ones who sent people to camp your guildmates, trying to lure you out."

Ryan's blood ran hot. If all this had been because he had ignored some prior agreement, he could have brushed it off as a petty nuisance, something to get back at them for later when the chance arose. But this was deliberate provocation, aimed squarely at him and his people. Worse, it looked as though real-world military factions were beginning to clash inside the game. Ryan had no idea which groups these two sides represented, but since the culprits behind his sister's corpse-camping were here, he would make sure they received the welcome they deserved. The Human Paladin had no reason to lie to him now.

"The battle begins the moment my Radiant Light is cast!" the Paladin declared. "This fight ends in death. Use every skill and effect you've got. Treat it like a real wilderness encounter!"

Having learned the rules, Ryan immediately uncorked and drained every buff potion in his pack. He had chosen to side with Crimson Wake, which meant that Black Phantom was his natural enemy.

Golden holy light flared in the Paladin's hands, swelling into a torrent that engulfed his entire body. The battle had begun.

Ryan charged forward. His Avenger's Shield shot out, whirling through the air and slamming toward the Minotaur Shaman before the Orc Warrior had even begun his own opening charge.

He didn't know the Shaman's exact specialization, but odds were high that he was a healer. Taking him out first was the right play—as long as no one managed to stop him.

The Orc Warrior bellowed, his voice rolling like thunder, and then burst into a crimson blur as he activated his charge. The impact stunned Ryan for a heartbeat, long enough for the Minotaur Shaman to slip out of the immediate combat zone.

The Shaman dropped four totems in quick succession, each glowing faintly as it spread its effect across his team.

At level thirty, a Shaman's options were still limited, nothing like the Nyman Shaman Agu whom Ryan had encountered before. Compared to that guy, these buffs were unimpressive, though not harmless.

The Earth Totem boosted his team's strength by a dozen points. The Searing Totem gave their melee weapons a burning edge, each strike shaving around twenty health off Ryan. The Tidal Totem pulsed, restoring just over twenty health every two seconds. And finally, the Windfury Totem—the Shaman's trademark skill at this level—granted a small but noticeable agility boost.

Ryan, reeling from the Orc Warrior's charge, was hit with a barrage of shadow magic from the Orc Warlock. Curses and afflictions stacked one after another, their damage small but cumulative.

To make matters worse, the Warlock's imp continuously lobbed bolts of sickly green fire. The damage was steady and respectable, and it confirmed Ryan's suspicion about the Warlock's build.

Only an Affliction Warlock fought this way, layering debuffs for sustained damage and pairing them with a dangerous ranged minion. If left unchecked, he could be devastating. The Warlock needed to be taken down as quickly as possible.

But Ryan had no time to deal with him directly. The Orc Warrior was on him, pressing hard, and somewhere in the shadows lurked the Undead Rogue, who had disappeared at the start of the fight.

Ryan had already downed a Cat's Eye Potion to heighten his detection, yet he still couldn't sense the Rogue's presence. That meant only one thing: the Rogue was close, and he was good—exceptionally good. Probably a Subtlety specialist.

Subtlety Rogues were the darlings of PvP enthusiasts. Unlike Assassination Rogues, who specialized in explosive burst damage, or Combat Rogues, who could slug it out with Warriors, Subtlety Rogues were dangerous for an entirely different reason—their oppressive crowd control.

A skilled Subtlety Rogue could lock down an opponent for a full ten seconds.

Even someone like Ryan was not immune.

Facing four enemies at once, if he were caught and held in place for that long, their combined firepower would tear through him before he could react. Which was why Ryan stayed on edge, constantly trying to predict the moment the enemy Rogue would strike.

While Ryan kept searching for him, the Orc Warlock—who had been steadily bombarding him from the rear—finally grew impatient. Ryan hadn't so much as flinched at his spells, and the Warlock clearly wanted to end things with a single decisive blow. He raised his staff and began channeling a spell Ryan had never expected to see here.

Soulfire.

It was a spell Warlocks rarely touched, notorious for its brutal drawbacks. A single cast took ten full seconds, drained a massive chunk of mana, and even consumed part of the Warlock's own health. If his health pool was too low, the spell could kill the caster outright.

But the price reflected its power. This particular Warlock's Soulfire could hit for four to five thousand damage on monsters. Against a player, it was still devastating. If not for its absurd cost—nearly one-third of the Warlock's health per use—and the minute-long cooldown, Soulfire would have been every Warlock's go-to leveling skill.

Ryan's pulse spiked. If that spell landed, it would cut his health by more than half. It wouldn't kill him outright, but it would leave him scrambling to burn a defensive cooldown. Worse, if it critted, it could erase him on the spot.

He could not let it finish.

Breaking away from the Orc Warrior, Ryan barreled straight toward the Warlock. The Warlock, eyes widening, barked a command in harsh Orcish. Ryan couldn't make out the words, but the intent was obvious—he was calling on his teammates to lock Ryan down.

Every instinct screamed a warning. Ryan triggered his racial ability, Suspicion, sharpening his awareness to an unnatural degree. A flicker in the corner of his vision betrayed the faint outline of a figure racing at him, accelerated by Sprint.

The Undead Rogue.

Ryan loosed the Judgment he had been holding, and a bolt of holy power slammed into the Rogue, yanking him out of stealth. Golden light exploded beneath Ryan's boots, spreading outward in a blinding surge that swallowed both the Orc Warrior and the Rogue. Radiant Storm triggered alongside it, stripping away more than half their health in an instant.

The Minotaur Shaman reacted fast, pouring healing magic into his allies and dragging their health bars back up at the cost of a huge chunk of his mana.

Even so, the Rogue had managed to close in. Though his initial ambush had been spoiled, he still carried his class's natural edge in close quarters. A vicious strike left Ryan stunned for five seconds, helpless in the Rogue's grip. And as Ryan shook it off and lurched forward again, the Rogue followed up with a Kidney Shot, chaining another five-second stun that froze Ryan in place just as he tried to push toward the Warlock.

The timing was perfect.

The instant Ryan's body went slack, the Warlock completed his ten-second channel. Soulfire erupted from his staff, a searing emerald fireball trailing a blazing tail as it screamed through the air—straight toward Ryan.

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