Chapter 25: [25] : Warlord of the Bastion, The Shadowblade Token

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The sound was deafening. It sounded exactly like a massive fireworks show mixed with a giant car crusher. Hundreds of monsters were exploding into blue light every single second.

The system notifications in the corner of Declan’s vision were scrolling by so incredibly fast. They just looked like a solid blur of white text.

"This is insane," Kendra whispered.

She was standing a few feet behind Declan with her bow lowered. She could not stop staring at the endless tide of monsters dying senselessly against their wall. "There are so many of them."

"And they are completely ignoring the people outside who could not pay the toll," Sloane added. Her voice sounded a little sick and terrified.

Declan looked past the exploding monsters. Sloane was absolutely right.

There were still a few hundred players trapped outside the dome. They were the stubborn ones who refused to pay the ten Origin Points or the poor ones who simply did not have any crafting materials to trade.

They had grouped up together. They were holding their cheap rusted swords and wooden shields, foolishly thinking they could fight off the event.

They were dead wrong.

The Flesh-Stalkers did not just attack the wall. They swept through the crowd like a lawnmower going through tall grass.

Screams of pure terror and agony echoed through the dark toxic fog. Players were sliced in half and impaled. They were instantly deleted from the Grid.

It was a total slaughter!

"Don’t blame me for this," Declan said flatly. "I did not make the rules of the Purge. I just built a really safe city."

Sloane swallowed hard and looked down at her admin interface. "We processed over three thousand people. The treasury is sitting at exactly 30,000 Origin Points."

"We also have a mountain of raw iron, wood, and monster cores. We are officially the richest people in Sector 4."

"Good, "Keep organizing the inventory. I have a feeling we are going to need a lot of materials to build this place up properly."

Suddenly, a loud and desperate banging sound came from the gate area.

Declan turned his head immediately. Through the transparent black iron, he saw a small group of players running desperately toward the dome.

They were being chased by a pack of six Flesh-Stalkers.

The group was getting ripped apart as they ran. The guy in the back was snatched up by a scythe claw and instantly turned into blue pixels.

The remaining three players slammed into the barrier. They were screaming and pounding their fists against the smooth energy shield.

"Let us in! Please! Open the gate!"

Declan walked slowly toward the gate.

He recognized the guy in the front. His pristine white suit was totally ruined. It was torn to shreds and covered in gray mud and toxic green slime. His slicked-back hair was a complete mess.

He did not have his fancy crystal goblet anymore.

Wth?

It was Caldwell. The Guild Master of the Sovereign Syndicate!

His massive five-hundred-man army was completely gone. It had been wiped out by the Purge Wave in less than ten minutes.

The elite pay-to-win guild was nothing but a pile of dropped loot sitting in the mud. Caldwell only had two heavily armored guards left. They were actively getting torn apart by the Flesh-Stalkers right behind him.

"Let me in!" Caldwell shrieked.

He pressed his face against the barrier. His eyes were wide with pure and unadulterated terror. "You! Player V! Let me in right now!"

Declan stood casually on the inside of the dome. He did not press the button to open the gate. He just looked at Caldwell with a bored expression on his face.

He actually thought Caldwell was one of the people in control of the game. But his face was screaming desperation.

"The toll is ten Origin Points," Declan said. His voice carried perfectly through the barrier. "Or equivalent crafting materials."

"I do not have any Origin Points with me!" Caldwell screamed.

He dodged clumsily as a Flesh-Stalker’s claw sparked against the barrier right next to his head. "I spent them all on my army! My army is dead! Open the damn gate!"

"No points, no entry," Declan said smoothly. "House rules."

"Do you know who I am?!" Caldwell howled. His face was purple with rage and fear. "I am the heir to the Caldwell Tech Conglomerate! I have millions in the real world!"

"Millions! Let me in, and I will wire a million to your bank account right now! Fifty million! Name your price!"

Declan laughed out loud. It was a cold and empty sound.

"I do not care about your bank account," Declan said. "Money means absolutely nothing in the Grid. The only currency that matters here is survival. And right now, you are completely broke."

One of Caldwell’s guards was suddenly grabbed by a Flesh-Stalker. The guard screamed as he was lifted into the air and violently snapped in half.

Caldwell witnessed horror.

Immediately, Caldwell fell to his knees in the mud. He banged his fists against the barrier. He was sobbing uncontrollably.

The arrogant and untouchable guild leader was completely broken. He was just a terrified rat backed into a corner.

"Please," Caldwell begged. Tears mixed with the toxic rain on his face. "The system locked us in! The Purge Wave disabled the log-out buttons for the entire sector! I do not want to die. I do not want my pod to fry my brain. Please. I will give you anything."

Declan crouched down so he was eye-level with the crying billionaire.

"Anything?" Declan asked softly.

"Yes! Anything! My gear, my inventory! Take it all!"

Declan narrowed his eyes. He had seen the way Caldwell commanded his troops. He had seen the way the guy threw low-level newbies to their deaths just to drain a boss’s mana.

Caldwell was a parasite. But parasites usually hoarded the absolute best loot.

"I do not want your trash armor," Declan said. "But a guy like you running the biggest pay-to-win guild in the sector, you definitely have a Class Token."

"The rare kind. The kind you buy off the black market for millions of dollars before you even dive."

Caldwell froze completely. His eyes darted around nervously.

"Give it to me," Declan demanded. "Hand over the Class Token, and I open the gate. Refuse, and I watch you get eaten."

"I cannot do that," Caldwell stammered. "It is a Shadowblade Token! It cost me four million real-world dollars to secure! It is an Epic-tier class! I need it!"

"You need it?" Declan pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the horde of monsters. "You are going to need a mop and a bucket in about five seconds. Last chance, Caldwell."

The last guard beside Caldwell was instantly vaporized by a scythe strike.

Caldwell was entirely alone. Three Level 20 Flesh-Stalkers turned their eyeless faces toward him. They hissed loudly and raised their blades.

"Okay! Okay! Take it!" Caldwell screamed in absolute panic.

He frantically swiped at his system interface. A small and glowing purple coin materialized in his hand. He slapped it against the barrier’s trade window.

Declan tapped his own screen.

[System Notification]

↳Trade Accepted.

↳Item Received: Shadowblade Class Token.

"Open it!" Caldwell sobbed.

Declan pressed the button on Sloane’s desk. A tiny section of the black dome snapped open instantly.

Caldwell dove through the gap headfirst. He landed face-down in the clean stone courtyard. The gate snapped shut a millisecond before a Flesh-Stalker’s claw could breach the threshold.

Caldwell just lay on the ground. He was hyperventilating and clutching his chest. He was alive, but he had lost absolutely everything.

He was going to be a problem.

But Declan did not even look at him. He turned his back on the crying billionaire and looked at the item in his hand.

It was a small and heavy coin made of dark metal. It pulsed with a faint and shadowy aura.

[Item Information]

↳ Name: Shadowblade Class Token

↳ Tier: Epic

↳ Description: Consume this token to acquire the Shadowblade Class. Greatly increases base Agility and unlocks advanced stealth and assassination skill trees.

"An Epic-tier class," Declan muttered. A wide and dangerous grin spread across his face.

He looked up and out over the massive fortified courtyard of the Iron Bastion. Over three thousand players were huddled together.

Some were crying. Some were resting. Some were just staring at the black dome above them in pure awe.

They had all paid him to live.

They were in his city. Under his shield. Under his rules.

The tutorial phase was officially over. The spawn zone was dead. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

The stakes just got bigger.

Declan Vance was no longer just a guy who got thrown into a debtor’s prison. He was the Warlord of Sector 4. And he was just getting started.