And so, Ryan was relegated to sentry duty, keeping watch from the Golden Gate.

"ROAR!"

Ethan had just taken a step toward Lyla when a violent roar burst from the cell where she and Evelyn had taken cover. A plume of purple mist blasted out, spreading fast. Any player caught in it screamed and clawed at their own skin, their bodies collapsing in seconds as flesh melted away to bone, and the bone dissolved into a foul, unrecognizable sludge.

A moment later, something small shot out of the mist, its wings flickering, its two legs scrambling across the floor as its long tail whipped behind it. It was a small dragon, moving like a lizard but with the force of a battering ram, and anyone it collided with went tumbling.

Lyla emerged behind it, calm and steady, her pace almost like she was walking through a garden. She held her longbow upright, plucking the string lightly as she advanced, girl and dragon pushing their way out of the chaos together.

Evelyn followed close behind, her staff sweeping through the air as she sent healing spells and protective shields toward the little dragon without pause.

Seeing this, Ethan understood they had things under control. Leo was also closing in fast, so Ethan turned back toward the corridor.

"There are two more cells! You take that one, Lyla takes the other, and I'll hold the line!" Ethan shouted, pointing at the two unopened cells.

Then he spun back to face the enemy.

Word had already spread among the Blackridge players that outsiders were in the prison. Shield Tanks were now pushing forward in organized ranks instead of the scattered rabble from moments earlier.

Ethan let go of his Stealth, his massive Bear Form rising up in the center of the corridor.

"Transform, Ursar's Claws!"

He stretched out his arms. Krak-krak-krak... A layer of dark red plating slid over his forearms like snapping armor, spreading down to his hands. Shing! A flash of red lit the air as eight razor-sharp claws extended from his fingertips.

"All the gems are lit! The gate is open!" Ryan's voice rang excitedly through the team channel.

"Get inside and destroy the Inhibitor. I'll hold them here."

Ethan's eyes sharpened with anticipation. The corridor was narrow, barely wide enough for ten Shield Tanks standing shoulder to shoulder. They filled the far end of the hallway completely. In his colossal Bear Form, Ethan blocked most of the space himself, and if he stretched both arms fully, he could touch both walls.

In a choke point like this, he knew he was unmovable. A thousand players could come at him, but none would get through.

His sudden appearance made the front-line Shield Tanks stop short, and the players behind them crashed straight into their backs.

CRASH!

The formation buckled at once. The front line was squeezed by the force of those behind them, a few Tanks stumbling and falling as shields clattered to the ground. One round shield spun across the floor and wobbled to a stop at Ethan's feet before tipping over.

"Are you idiots?! Why are you stopping?! You're crushing me back here!"

The sudden break in momentum had triggered a pileup. The players in the very front were shoved forward but were still standing. The ones caught in the middle suffered the worst, smashed between both sides like the filling of a sandwich.

"You're calling me an idiot? Look ahead, genius!"

The Tank at the front snapped back immediately. Shield Tanks were usually the pride of their teams, not the ones used to getting yelled at, and being blamed while staring up at a towering bear covered in armored plates had not improved his mood.

"Who?" The Tank who had lost his shield scrambled upright, tense and wary. His eyes flicked from Ethan's towering Bear Form to the round shield lying by Ethan's paw.

Ethan glanced down at it, nudged it lightly with his foot, and kicked it back across the floor.

The Tank caught it with both hands, strapped it onto his arm, and stammered, "D-Druid... Druid God... h-hello. Th-thanks."

"You're welcome," Ethan said, flashing a wide, toothy grin that looked even more intimidating on a bear's face.

The sound of his voice jolted the confused players in the back. Complaints erupted immediately.

"Ouch! Why did you step on my foot?"

"Move! You're crushing me!"

The entire rear section started groaning and snapping at each other as they tried to undo the awkward shuffle they had created.

"Quiet down!"

A single sharp command cut through the noise, and the corridor fell still. The mass of players parted, and eight figures stepped forward.

At the same time, Ethan felt a strong rush of air behind him. He turned and saw Lyla's dragon swooping in with a rider clinging to its back. It was Evelyn, not Lyla.

In that instant, Ethan understood how the two girls had slipped past the enemy earlier. The dragon could fly anywhere it wanted, even indoors, even with a passenger, ignoring the normal system restrictions. Meanwhile, Ethan's own Travel Form was locked with a constant "Cannot be used indoors" warning, and all conventional mounts were disabled in the same way.

The dragon landed smoothly, and Evelyn immediately lifted her staff and cast a fresh set of protective shields onto Ethan. It was timed perfectly, a silent message that she expected the fight to escalate.

Leo rushed up behind her, scrambling forward with the agility of someone hopping between branches. A pink Panther padded behind him, which was Kiara Quinn in her combat form. Then Victor and a Priest followed at a steady pace.

The rest of their damage-dealers were nowhere in sight, which meant they had already entered the Inhibitor Chamber as ordered. Ethan had told them the Inhibitor was an easy target, so they did not need Leo or the healers for it, and had pulled back to support him instead.

As his team reached him, Ethan shifted out of his Bear Form. The hallway was too tight, and Leo had been about three seconds away from trying to duck between his legs.

"The Druid God? What the—how fuck did you get in here?"

A Sharpshooter in the enemy group spun a revolver on his finger as he spoke. His tone was soaked in disrespect.

"You will pay for opening your mouth and spewing filth," Ethan said quietly, his eyes narrowing. No one noticed the shadow behind him ripple, detach, and glide along the floor toward the Sharpshooter's legs.

"Oh, I see. You think this is Harmony City, Druid God?" The Sharpshooter laughed, leaning forward with a sneer. "You're talking real big. I've got eighty thousand men behind me. Their spit alone could drown you."

Leo tensed, his fingers twitching, ready to leap at the man. But Ethan simply smiled.

"What are you smiling at?" the Sharpshooter snapped, thrown off by the reaction.

"I'm smiling because you're ignorant," Ethan said. His voice stayed even, calm, almost gentle. "A small-time punk like you isn't qualified to speak to me. If you want to talk, tell that Zachary punk to come out."

The corridor went quiet. No one could read the expression on Ethan's face.

"Zachary? Who the hell is Zachary?" the Sharpshooter barked, honestly confused now. He was the president of a Tier-Five Guild. No one had ever told him he was unqualified to speak, and he had never even heard the name.

The Guild Presidents around him exchanged puzzled looks. But one man standing slightly behind them stiffened. His eyes twitched, a tiny involuntary reaction he could not hide.

He worked directly under the Aeon Corporation, acting as the liaison between the corporation and the assembled Guilds.

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