Others may not know exactly who Zachary was, but Ethan knew. He was the eldest son of the Steele Consortium, its only heir, and the kind of person no one with sense wanted to cross.

"Oh? So you really are just small-time punks," Ethan said, almost disappointed. "In that case, this is pointless. Go die."

He could tell these players had never dealt with Zachary before. They did not even recognize his name. His words made the enemy group shift uneasily. The last two in particular hit them like a bucket of ice water. The Sharpshooter tightened his grip on his revolver and stared at Ethan as if waiting for the signal to fight, but Ethan only stood there, calm and still, watching them with a faint, detached amusement.

The Blackridge players exchanged confused glances.

Splat.

Before any of them could make sense of the Druid God's behavior, the Sharpshooter suddenly grabbed at his throat. Blood sprayed through his fingers in a hot, pulsing jet. He staggered, choking, and before anyone could react, he collapsed and burst into white light.

"Watch out, Rogue, it is a Garrote!"

Their only Rogue, the same one who had been sharp enough to spot the trap at the entrance, shouted the warning. He dropped low and tried to slip into Stealth.

At that exact moment, two daggers materialized beside him. One punched into his temple, the other into the back of his skull. It was the rogue skill Ambush, clean and silent. His dissolving form froze for a heartbeat as a rapid storm of dagger strikes tore through him. He fell apart into light just as quickly as the Sharpshooter had.

The Rogue who struck him vanished again into Stealth, slipping back into the shadows even though he had killed two people right in the middle of the crowd. Only then did the others snap out of their shock.

"Priests, Flare!" someone shouted.

"No good, the healers are too far in the back, they are out of range!"

"Paladins, Divine Sight!"

"Paladins... where are the Paladins?"

"We are all dead," someone said in a trembling voice over the party chat. "I just used Corpse Revive. I can only talk here now."

The players stared, stunned.

Before the Sharpshooter had even fallen, three Paladins on the frontline had already been taken out without anyone noticing. In Ethereal, dead players cannot speak in the team channel. The first Paladin killed had tried to warn them through the Guild channel, but no one had been paying attention.

Every eye had been on Ethan. The Druid God's appearance had settled over the battlefield like a mountain, suffocating and immovable. All eight Guild Leader had been glued to the team channel, terrified of missing anything. No one was watching the Guild channel, and now they understood the cost of that mistake.

The eight Presidents had already been panicking. If they failed here, they would return empty-handed. Without the loot, they would not receive their compensation or their promised benefits. That meant they would have to pay out of pocket for the massive level loss their players would suffer. None of them could afford that kind of financial collapse.

"D Druid God, can we negotiate?" a Mage among them asked hesitantly. "How about you... let us have this?"

With two of the eight Presidents already dead, the remaining six were shaking. The Mage's voice cracked halfway through the question.

"Sorry, smash it."

Ethan suddenly shouted, the word bursting out of him so loudly the enemy jumped. For a split second they thought he was about to attack, but then they realized he had yelled smash, not attack.

Just a moment earlier, Lyla had messaged Ethan in the team chat, asking if she should destroy the Inhibitor device since its health was almost gone. Ethan's sudden shout had been his answer, thrown not at the enemy but at his own team.

---

[DING... GLOBAL ANNOUNCEMENT: BONE ABBEY, RACE TO LEVELING DUNGEON IS NOW OPEN!]

[DING... GLOBAL ANNOUNCEMENT: BONE ABBEY ACTIVATION MAP, UNCHARTED CATACOMBS, EIGHTH LEVEL HAS BEEN CONQUERED. KILLING TEAM CAPTAIN NOTADRUID, TEAM MEMBERS SKYBLADE, MOONBEAM, SLASHBLADE, SERAPHWARRIOR...]

[DING... GLOBAL ANNOUNCEMENT: DUE TO THE CRITICAL TIMING OF THE BONE ABBEY ACTIVATION, THE KILLING TEAM IS REWARDED WITH A 5X LEVEL BONUS!]

[DING... GLOBAL ANNOUNCEMENT: DUE TO THE CRITICAL TIMING OF THE BONE ABBEY ACTIVATION, ALL PLAYERS IN THE KILLING TEAM'S GUILD, RENEGADE ALLIANCE, ARE REWARDED WITH A 3X LEVEL BONUS!]

[DING... GLOBAL ANNOUNCEMENT: RENEGADE ALLIANCE HAS BEEN GRANTED GLOBAL OCCUPATION RIGHTS FOR BONE ABBEY, SECURE HOLD FOR SIX MONTHS. FIFTY PERCENT OF ALL BONE ABBEY ENTRY FEES WORLDWIDE WILL BE DEPOSITED DIRECTLY INTO THE RENEGADE ALLIANCE GUILD VAULT.]

[DING... GLOBAL ANNOUNCEMENT: RENEGADE ALLIANCE PLAYERS MAY ENTER BONE ABBEY WITHOUT PAYING ANY ENTRY FEE.]

---

A cascade of global notifications flashed across every screen in Ethereal, all of them featuring Ethan's team. For Ethan, the five-level bonus could not have come at a better time. At Level 63, he had long since outpaced most of the Northern Frontier's monsters, leaving him with few efficient ways to level. Now, light burst around him again and again, pushing him all the way to Level 68 in a matter of seconds.

Leo and the others were not far behind. After slaughtering so many Soul Reavers, their base experience gain had already been enormous. The core damage dealers, all hovering around Level 50, jumped straight to 55. Lyla, originally 56, ended up just short of Ethan. Even the healers, who typically lagged behind, rose to 54.

The team could barely contain themselves. A global fifty percent revenue share from a dungeon was nothing short of absurd. Bone Abbey existed in every region of the world, and for the next six months, half of every entry fee would flow directly into their Guild vault. No one could challenge their claim during that period, and Renegade Alliance members would not pay a single coin to enter.

It was the moment the Level 60 dungeon truly showed its value. From Level 60 onward, most high-tier dungeons required entry tickets or rare materials, and any Guild that occupied them controlled the fees and enjoyed free entries. To secure one worldwide was the kind of fortune most Guilds would never even have the chance to dream about.

Ethan knew that in his past life, Drunken Wanderer had not activated this dungeon until much later. Their reward had been tiny in comparison, mostly because by then the Fortress Wars were already underway and players across the world had reached Level 70. Ethan guessed the system was pushing this dungeon out early to accelerate leveling before the next global conflict.

While Ethan and his teammates basked in their windfall, the enemy stood frozen. Their eyes were glued to the notifications, envy rising like a fever. Even the smallest reward was a three-level boost for every Guild member. A five-level bonus for the killing team itself was almost unheard of.

"The Steele Consortium orders us to stop them," someone from Blackridge said suddenly, his voice shaking. "We have to kill them now. If we fail, they will unilaterally terminate our contract."

The remaining six Guild Presidents stared at him, stunned. One of them snapped first, shouting in disbelief, "Why? That is the Renegade Alliance's elite team, led by the Druid God. Losing to them is completely normal!"

"Your complaining is pointless," the person said with a cold, mocking smile. "When you signed the contract, you agreed to the clause stating that all rights of interpretation belong to the Steele Consortium. Did you think that line was just decoration?"

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