Chapter 360: Royal Power
“Three-Round Artillery Barrage Preparation!” The Overlord declared with triumphant vigor.
Dozens of magical Heavy Cannons stood poised along the frontline, their dark muzzles aimed skyward. Before them lay the shattered, cratered remnants of the City Wall—its defenses torn apart—and the terrified remnants of the garrison: broken, dust-covered Knights, and soldiers trembling in fear.
This was Cyril City, the strategic stronghold of the Duchy of Otto, the nation’s second-most populous urban center. Now, the air reeked of gunpowder and smoke.
Fengyun waved a hand, calling out beside him: “Guild Leader, hold on—let’s save some prisoners. We’re short on labor at the factories lately.”
“Indigenous Inhabitants are far more reliable. Hired Players are too expensive, and they don’t follow orders. These new players nowadays? They’re too shrewd. We’d need to raise wages just to get them to show up.”
The Overlord paused to reflect, then nodded. “You’re right.”
“Prepare the Spellcasters and melee squads. And tell the Dragon Riders to hold back—no need to burn too many people alive.”
“Yes, Guild Leader.”
The 【Royal Power】 was now a massive guild of nearly a thousand members—renowned among the elite, a powerhouse of prestige. Nearly all were Level 5 or higher Professionals, each possessing unique, exceptional talents.
To seize this 【Conquest of the Northlands】 mission, The Overlord had urgently recalled close to six hundred members—practically every active fighter except those in essential后勤 roles—rallying them onto the battlefield.
This formidable professional force had already conquered thirteen cities. The standard Northern Region City Defense Forces stood no chance against their relentless advance.
Save for ethereal entities like the “Lionheart Knights,” even the most elite Northern troops were, on average, only equivalent to Level 1 Professionals. A Level 5 Professional could easily become a noble Knight—or even a general—anywhere in the North.
A disciplined, organized army composed of such elite players? Their strength was undeniable.
“Mage, deploy the Group Vigor Spell! Minstrel, apply Fiery Sprite to the enemy!”
“Warriors, charge forward with shields up! Remember—no killing if they surrender! The Guild pays gold by the number of captives, and there’s a bonus for taking a Baron alive!”
Fengyun bellowed through a megaphone, his voice echoing across the battlefield.
“For Royal Power!”
“Glory to Royal Power, Hero Immortality!”
Two hundred Players in full formation surged forward toward the distant city. Warriors and Paladins charged headlong, while Mages and Sorcerers unleashed dazzling, spectacular spells. Druids summoned an array of beasts, and Minstrels cast magic through their music, their instruments glowing with arcane energy.
In an instant, the base of the City Wall erupted in a kaleidoscope of spelllight—flames, acid bursts, falling boulders, even a flying squirrel darting through the air—each projectile raining down upon the defenders.
The city’s commander roared from the battlements: “Fear nothing! Kill them! Fight for the Duchy of Otto! For the cities behind you!”
“They’re just flesh and blood!”
“Without their strange weapons, they can’t beat us!”
“Load the Heavy Crossbows!”
As a strategic stronghold, the City Wall housed several massive crossbows designed to repel Frost Giants and White Dragons. Now, they were turned against the Stellarfallen.
“Fiendfire Spell!” The Minstrels played their tune, violet light flaring from their violin strings, outlining every enemy in glowing silhouette.
Several High-Level Mages from Royal Authority Guild raised their staves in unison.
“Slow!”
Time itself warped. The soldiers’ movements slowed to a crawl, as if the world had been set to slow motion.
Then, a Dragon-Bound Holy Knight—enhanced by Flight and Haste spells—leapt onto the wall in a single bound. With a single swing of his blade, blazing with crimson flame, he severed the head of the commander mid-roar.
The soldiers stared in horror as their leader fell, yet frozen in the slowed space, utterly powerless to react.
“Surrender means no death!” The Dragon-Bound Holy Knight stood atop the tower, holding the still-warm head aloft.
The defenders looked up in despair at the approaching figures. They knew the end was near. All was lost.
Within moments, Royal Authority Guild seized the entire city, securing the City Hall, Armory, and all other key locations with ease.
The city’s Lord, Baron Jules Reginaldo, had already fled southward with a hundred-man convoy, leading a caravan of wagons.
But Royal Power boasted several Crimson Scale Conquerors among its ranks. Even the fastest four-legged stallions couldn’t outrun the speed of winged flight.
The Dragon Riders soon discovered the fleeing Baron and his entourage—then utterly eradicated them. The Baron himself was captured alive, dragged through the air by a Wyvern, screaming in terror.
“Stay still. Don’t move.”
“Or I’ll kill you.”
Dadao landed his Two-Headed Dragon on the ground, then effortlessly lifted the Baron by one arm.
Baron Jules immediately went quiet—though his plump body still trembled involuntarily.
It was said the Dragon’s Favored killed Nobles without hesitation, even beheading Marquises on a whim. Yet here was a Baron, spared.
Had they finally realized? That without Nobles, leadership in the Northlands could not be stable? That they were now ready to seek collaboration—with him?
A flicker of relief flashed in the Baron’s eyes.
“Here we are.”
“Guild Leader, I’ve brought him.”
Dadao tossed the Baron roughly to the ground.
“Disgraceful scum. When I regain my former status, I’ll kill you first.”
The Baron seethed inwardly, his gaze turning dark and venomous.
Struggling to rise, he saw a towering man ahead—broad-shouldered, noble-faced, clad in heavy, ornate armor, wielding a massive Greatsword.
The moment he laid eyes on him, the man’s face lit up with delight.
“He must be the chieftain of these Dragon’s Favored.”
“Now my life, wealth, and status are entirely in his hands. To secure further collaboration, I must win his favor at all costs.”
With that thought, Baron Jules plastered a thick, servile smile across his face.
“Your noble grace, I am Jules Reginaldo—”
Swish—
Before he could finish, The Overlord swung his Greatsword in a single, brutal arc.
The Baron’s head split open mid-sentence. Brain matter splattered across the ground. His thick fat and flesh were cleaved apart, intestines and organs spilling out in a grotesque mess.
Even in death, the Baron’s face remained frozen in that same sly, grinning expression. But his eyes—wide with shock, disbelief—betrayed his final, unspoken question:
Why? Why go through all this trouble… just to kill me?
The Overlord wiped his blade clean, wrinkling his nose at the scene.
“Next time, just decapitate them.”
“Ugh. Clean this up.”
He gave a casual order to his subordinates, then turned to his Character Sheet—his face brightening once more.
[You have slain a key figure from the Northern Union Kingdom faction: Baron Jules Reginaldo. Gained 120 Faction Reputation Points.]
The entire guild had gone all out—sacrificing resources, time, and manpower—just to stack Reputation Points for him, so he could qualify for Dragon-Blooded Noble status.
Fengyun smiled faintly beside him. “Guild Leader, at this rate, by the end of the mission, you’ll have more than enough to reach Viscount level—maybe even push for Baron.”
“Haha! Onward to the next city! A thousand years of history, eight thousand miles to glory!”
The Overlord spread his arms wide, laughing aloud.
Fengyun wiped sweat from his brow, silently muttering to himself:
“Whole guild catering to your ego… and you still have the nerve to sound so heroic.”
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
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