Started with a 10,000x Multiplier in a Game World

Chapter 182: Chapter 182: A Hostile Staging Area

The aggressive recruitment filtering of Sera paid off perfectly.

Within three minutes, five players materialized in the central plaza of Aethelgardia. They were summoned directly via the guild interface.

They didn’t look like standard disorganized randoms. They wore highly customized mid-to-high tier Silver armor and carried well-maintained weapons.

Their levels ranged between 35 and 40. This put them significantly above the current baseline average of the server.

They were the absolute top tier of the independent player base.

They were veterans who had survived the chaotic first few days of the cycle by avoiding massive guild wars and focusing entirely on optimized efficient grinding.

And they were all completely starstruck to be standing in front of Dante.

"Guild Master," the newly recruited secondary tank said.

He was a towering man who wielded a heavy tower shield and a one-handed mace. He offered a crisp respectful salute. "We are ready."

"Save the formalities," Dante said. He kept his [Mantle of the Void-Dragon] pulled tight.

"This is a twelve-man event instance. The scaling is going to be brutal. You listen to my calls, you do not break formation, and you do not touch the boss loot until I clear the room."

"Understood, Boss," one of the two recruited healers nodded rapidly. She was a female cleric holding a glowing silver staff.

Dante didn’t waste time introducing the rest of the anomaly squad.

He opened the localized fast-travel interface, selected the coordinates for the third and final event dungeon, and triggered the transit sequence for the entire twelve-man party.

The blue light swallowed them.

The transition dropped them directly into the designated staging area for ’Dark Phoenix’s Last Wish’.

The environment was a stark aggressive contrast to the pristine marble of the capital city.

The staging area was located on the jagged ash-covered slopes of Mount Ignis. It was a massive highly active volcanic chain in the deep south of the Veridian Alliance territory.

The sky above was a chaotic swirling canopy of thick black smoke and angry glowing orange ash clouds.

The air was incredibly hot and smelled strongly of sulfur and burning rock.

At the far end of the staging plateau stood a towering jagged archway carved directly into the side of the volcano. It glowed with a deep pulsing purple light.

The plateau wasn’t empty.

It was completely packed.

Thousands of players were swarming the staging area.

The atmosphere here was distinctly different from the chaotic disorganized panic of the Demon Spirit Land lobby.

The players gathered outside the volcano weren’t random groups or mid-tier guilds hoping for a lucky drop.

This was the final event dungeon. The twenty-four-hour timer was rapidly ticking down.

The absolute elite of the server had converged on Mount Ignis.

Dante immediately spotted the massive highly disciplined formations of the major syndicates.

To the left, Leonidas stood at the head of a massive detachment of Apex Coalition paladins. Their golden armor glinted dully in the ash-choked light.

To the right, Xerxes lounged casually near the edge of the plateau and was surrounded by hundreds of heavily armed Blood Throne rogues.

But it was the massive group occupying the center of the staging area that drew the immediate attention of Dante.

Vanguard’s Legacy.

Silas hadn’t brought five million low-level recruits. He hadn’t brought his standard infantry. He had clearly learned from his catastrophic defeat in the Crimson Canyon.

The Guild Master was standing at the front of a highly specialized incredibly elite twelve-man raid group.

"Look at his roster," Nyx whispered. Her datapad actively scanned the Vanguard players. "Silas is not using his own guild members. He hired mercenaries."

Dante scanned the group. Nyx was right.

The players standing behind Silas didn’t wear the gold and white tabard of Vanguard’s Legacy.

They wore mismatched highly customized top-tier gear.

They were the absolute best highest-ranked independent mercenaries on the server. They were players who sold their services for exorbitant amounts of real-world cash.

"He is desperate," Sera noted from behind Dante.

"He could not secure the First Guild milestone, and his army was wiped."

"He needs the Celestial pet from this dungeon to salvage his corporate backing. He is burning the last of his personal funds to buy a guaranteed clear."

Dante watched Silas talking frantically to a massive heavily scarred mercenary tank.

"He thinks raw stats can beat the mechanics," Dante said flatly.

The sudden arrival of the twelve-man squad of Dante did not go unnoticed.

The murmurs in the staging area started instantly. Heads turned. Weapons were subtly drawn and rested defensively against shoulders.

The anomaly had arrived.

Silas stopped talking to the mercenary tank.

He turned around, and his eyes locked onto the glowing celestial-tier [Evil Spirit Armor] of Dante.

The Guild Master of Vanguard’s Legacy didn’t look arrogant or smug. He looked absolutely unhinged with furious desperation.

Silas didn’t charge. He didn’t draw a weapon. He knew he couldn’t beat Dante in a physical fight.

He decided to play to his only remaining strength: his ability to manipulate a crowd.

"Look who decided to show up," Silas projected his voice loudly. He ensured the thousands of players on the plateau could hear him over the rumbling of the volcano. "The so-called Savior brings a full roster this time."

Dante didn’t stop walking. He led his squad directly down the center of the plateau and headed straight for the glowing purple archway.

"I heard you cleared Demon Spirit Land, Dan," Silas mocked. He took a few steps forward to intercept their path. "Did you use another system exploit? Did you drop a meteor on the boss while he was stuck in an animation loop?"

Dante ignored him and continued his march.

Silas stepped directly in front of Dante and completely blocked the path to the portal.

The massive elite mercenary squad fanned out behind the Guild Master. They placed their hands on their weapons and created a highly intimidating physical wall.

"You are not stealing this one," Silas snarled. His voice dropped to a harsh whisper intended only for Dante.

"I paid millions for this team. They have the highest localized DPS output on the server. You cannot out-damage us in a scaled environment."

Dante finally stopped.

He didn’t draw the [Dawn-Breaker Blade]. He didn’t even look at the elite mercenaries.

He looked down at Silas.

"You are standing in my way," Dante said. His voice was completely devoid of anger or mockery. It was flat, cold, and absolute.

"Or what?" Silas challenged. His ego demanded a public confrontation.

"You are going to execute me in a neutral staging zone? The system will flag you. You will take massive penalties."

Before Dante could respond, a loud obnoxious laugh echoed across the plateau.

It didn’t come from Silas or his mercenaries.

It came from the far right side of the staging area.

The crowd of players actively parted. It revealed a highly organized heavily armored group marching aggressively toward the center.

They wore crimson samurai armor.

Ryujin, the Guild Master of the Black Dragon Syndicate, had arrived.

The leader of the Sakura Nation wasn’t dead.

He had respawned after Mei casually bludgeoned him to death in the canyon. He had clearly mobilized a fresh elite squad to contest the final event dungeon.

"Well, this is a pathetic display," Ryujin sneered and pointed his Gold-tier katana at Silas.

"The mighty Vanguard’s Legacy, reduced to hiring freelance thugs because their own members are too terrified to log in."

Silas whipped his head around, and his face flushed with anger.

"Shut up, Ryujin! Your entire nation is a joke! You could not even leave your beginner zone for two days!"

"And whose fault was that?!" Ryujin roared. His gaze snapped violently toward Dante.

The Sakura Nation leader marched directly up to the confrontation.

His elite samurai squad formed up aggressively beside the mercenaries of Silas.

"You," Ryujin hissed. He pointed the katana directly at the chest piece of Dante.

"You abused a developer tool to lock my people in a box. You humiliated me on a global broadcast. You think you are untouchable because you have a few broken passives."

Ryujin didn’t look at Mei.

He completely ignored the Brawler who had killed him. He focused entirely on the perceived leader of the anomaly squad.

"I am the God-King," Ryujin declared. His voice echoed loudly across the plateau.

"I am not going to let you casually stroll into this dungeon and claim the final reward. I demand satisfaction."

Dante stared at the two Guild Masters blocking his path. Silas to the left, Ryujin to the right.

"I do not care what you demand," Dante said. "Move."

"No!" Ryujin shouted. His face was contorted with bruised pride. "I am issuing a formal public challenge! Right here! Right now!"

Ryujin didn’t issue a standard duel request through the system interface.

He was playing entirely to the thousands of players and independent streamers watching the confrontation. He wanted a public spectacle to salvage his ruined reputation.

"You brought a twelve-man team," Ryujin noted and scanned the squad of Dante.

His eyes quickly skimmed over Garrick, Casanova, and Lila. He dismissed them as irrelevant support. Then, his gaze landed on Aria.

The Level 15 Soul Weaver was standing near the back of the formation of Dante.

She clutched her small woven basket and looked incredibly nervous and entirely out of place among the heavily armored veterans.

Ryujin laughed loudly.

"You brought a Level 15 beginner to an endgame scaled raid dungeon?" Ryujin mocked and shook his head.

"You are arrogant, Dan. You think your raw stats can carry dead weight. Silas is right. You cannot out-scale a twelve-man boss with a fractured roster."

Ryujin stepped forward and pointed his katana at the glowing purple portal.

"I propose a bet," Ryujin declared and ensured his voice was loud enough for the entire plateau to hear.

"A race. My elite squad against yours. We enter the dungeon simultaneously. Whoever clears the final boss and secures the Celestial pet first is the undisputed victor."

"And if I refuse?" Dante asked calmly.

"If you refuse, you admit to the entire server that your previous achievements were flukes," Ryujin sneered.

"You admit that without system exploits, you cannot compete against a truly optimized skilled raid team."

Dante didn’t care about the opinion of the server. He didn’t care about the bruised ego of Ryujin.

"And the stakes?" Silas interrupted eagerly and stepped forward.

"If you are proposing a formal race, Ryujin, Vanguard’s Legacy is entering as well. A three-way sprint for the final boss."

"The stakes are absolute humiliation," Ryujin announced and grinned viciously.

"The losers must publicly kneel in the center of the capital city on a global broadcast and call the winner Grandpa."

The entire staging area erupted into loud murmurs and chaotic whispers.

It was a childish and absurdly petty bet.

But in the highly politicized and ego-driven environment of the Zenith Protocol, public humiliation was often more damaging than losing gear or levels.

Forcing a rival Guild Master to kneel and call you ’Grandpa’ on a live stream would completely and permanently destroy their authority.

"I accept those terms," Silas agreed instantly, and his eyes burned with desperate ambition.

He was confident his highly paid mercenaries could out-DPS the mismatched squad of Dante.

Ryujin turned his katana back to Dante.

"What about you, anomaly?" Ryujin challenged. "Are you going to run, or are you going to race?"

Dante looked at the two arrogant Guild Masters.

He didn’t agree to the bet. He didn’t accept the terms.

He simply raised his right hand.

[Skill Executed: Phantom Dash]