https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-483-The-Match-and-Bronze-Fortress/13676976/
https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-485-Opening-Ceremony-and-the-Arrival-of-Emperor/13676978/
Chapter 484: Guild Tournament
Compared to individual matches, major Elite Guilds and clubs placed far greater emphasis on the Guild Tournament.
While individual competitions leaned more toward honor-based rewards, the prizes in the Guild Tournament were undeniably tangible. The victorious Guild didn’t just claim the golden title of Champion Guild—they also gained priority access to Special Quests, and in some cases, even direct Imperial Affiliation.
Due to strict participation requirements, smaller Guild Roots simply didn’t qualify for the Guild Tournament. As a result, the Preliminary Tournament was exceptionally brutal—only ten teams survived to reach the Final Match.
Among the grand spectacle, the spotlight naturally fell on the elite few: Royal Power, Mechanical Divinity, Magic Coin, and Sword Pavilion. These four were collectively known across the ForumPlayer community as the "Four Major Guilds."
The first three had already risen to prominence during the Internal Test phase, each backed by real-world power and endurance.
Sword Pavilion, however, emerged as a sudden force after the Public Test, riding the wave of its unique "wuxia" aesthetic that resonated deeply with Chinese players. It shone brightly during the Northern War, and its Guild Leader, Heaven's Steadfastness, earned a noble title—Baron—thanks to his outstanding battlefield achievements.
Any Guild unfortunate enough to face these giants found themselves doomed.
To date, the Four Major Guilds had maintained a perfect 100% win rate in the Preliminary Tournament. Each match had been a one-sided massacre.
The earlier a Guild began, the more advantages it gained in resource competition—this was an undeniable truth. Yet, even in such a fierce landscape, surprise underdogs occasionally rose.
Take NewGuild Roman Era, led by Player Augustus. With over a thousand members, its ranks were almost exclusively filled with fervent Jingluo (Roman Empire fanatics).
Originally named Roman Empire, the Guild had been formally warned by EmpireOfficial before being forced to rename itself.
And now, in this very match, the red team was none other than Roman Era.
The announcer’s voice rang out:
> "Red team: the widely recognized Roman Era, a Guild that has perfectly recreated the image of the Roman Legion."
In the arena, Roman Era players wore steel helmets adorned with red horsehair plumes, donned red or white battle robes, and armored in segmented chest plates.
They carried short swords, spears, and rectangular shields emblazoned with the eagle emblem. Their military field shoes clicked in unison as they marched.
A golden-circled eagle banner waved proudly above the battlefield.
> "Rome forever! Caesar forever!"
> "Freedom, Equality, Law! Glory to Rome!"
At the front, Augustus—as Centurion—raised the eagle banner high, rallying his troops.
Behind him, players formed a tight three-line formation, holding shields, wielding heavy javelins, short swords, and spears. Their disciplined stance radiated a powerful aura.
They had not only recreated the Roman Phalanx—they had applied it directly to the battlefield. It was, without a doubt, the pinnacle of cosplay.
Then, the announcer shifted focus to the opposing side:
> "The blue team is Shu Mountain Immortal Sect. Their motto: ‘A thousand guests drunk beneath the blossoms, a single sword chilling fourteen provinces.’
> They are just as determined to claim victory."
From the name alone, one could sense the sect’s aesthetic—purely Eastern, mystical, and steeped in classical cultivation lore.
Like Roman Era, Shu Mountain Immortal Sect was another cosplay-style Guild that thrived on immersion, embracing a classic Chinese immortal fantasy vibe.
It, too, had risen from obscurity after the Public Test.
Yet, here was the irony: since Ailezegai had no official "cultivation" class, most of its members were Sorcerers or Mages.
To emulate the image of a sword immortal, they used Tansen Floating Disc Technique, High-Grade Magical Weaponry, and Light Spells, all meticulously crafted to simulate the ethereal elegance of a true xian (immortal).
Standing at the front, the Guild Leader—Taiqing Zhenren, a man with silver-white hair and a flowing white robe—gazed at the Roman Phalanx, fingers delicately tapping together in amusement.
> "Hmph. Barbarians from the West. Hardly worth fearing."
> "Let us cut them down with our immortal sword!"
> "Guild Leader Majestic!"
> "What Guild Leader? He is the Master of Shu Mountain Immortal Sect! You should call him Master Majestic!"
> "Master Majestic!"
> "Our sect will triumph! We shall seize the championship!"
> "A thousand guests drunk beneath the blossoms, a single sword chilling fourteen provinces!"
The players of Shu Mountain Immortal Sect soared through the air, riding on glowing Flying Swords. From above, they loomed over the Roman formation with overwhelming dominance.
But Roman Era stood firm.
Holding their shields aloft, they looked up at the floating warriors, eyes blazing with battle intensity.
The air was thick with the sharp scent of gunpowder.
Yet this clash—between sword-wielding immortals and disciplined Roman legionaries—felt utterly surreal.
It was like watching Guan Yu battle aliens.
> "Three."
> "Two."
> "One."
> "Match Begins!"
The referee’s words were barely out when the battle erupted.
> "Rome forever!"
> "Pierce these fragile foes!"
The front rank of the Roman Phalanx surged forward, shields raised, launching volley after volley of heavy javelins.
The Shu Mountain Immortal Sect responded instantly, casting Protection Spells—shimmering, glowing barriers bloomed in midair, intercepting the incoming javelins.
But these weren’t just spells. According to them, they were Dao Arts.
> "Trivial tricks!"
Taiqing Zhenren scoffed, dramatically chanting his incantation.
With a flourish, he unleashed the Tansen Floating Disc Technique, Haste, and High-Grade Magical Weaponry—though, as they’d insist, it was Sword-Soaring Art.
Then, from above, multiple Cold Gleaming Flying Swords descended like blades of light, slicing through the air with deadly precision.
> Shua—
The shields cracked and split.
Behind them, Roman soldiers were decapitated in an instant.
> Shua! Shua! Shua!
Swords danced in the sky, weaving a deadly web.
The Roman Era players began to fall—many of them cut down mid-charge.
But the Phalanx didn’t falter.
The rear lines retaliated, hurling their own javelins—untrained Shu Mountain players, still struggling to maintain levitation, were caught in the air, their bodies pierced and falling.
They screamed as they plummeted, only to be finished off by the waiting short-sword infantry of Roman Era.
The battle raged on.
Yet Shu Mountain Immortal Sect was no true immortal. They were merely Mages cosplaying as cultivators.
Many players lacked the level or stamina to sustain flight. One by one, they tumbled from the sky.
Meanwhile, Roman Era followed their pre-planned tactics—wave after wave, charging, retreating, rotating.
Simple, efficient, and sustainable.
Each rank rested while the next advanced.
The cost was low. The results were high.
One by one, the "sword immortals" fell from the sky.
The tide turned.
> "This is not fate’s will, but the fault of war!"
With a final cry from Taiqing Zhenren, the Shu Mountain Immortal Sect collapsed.
> "Victory goes to... Roman Era!"
> "Rome forever!"
> "Jingluo weep!"
> "Ohhh ohhh ohhh!"
In the audience stands, Stuffed Bun watched the chaos below, shaking his head in disbelief.
> "Weird... absolutely weird."
> "These two Guilds? Their vibes are so bizarre. It’s like I’ve stepped into a stitched-together Monster Game."
From the player’s bench, Tian Sheng Zhan Kuang wiped his bald head and grinned.
> "This is Ailezegai. The most free-reign game out there. Anything these people do? It’s completely normal."
> "True," nodded Stuffed Bun, eyes wide.
> "These guys built a Fire Dwarf Lolita cosplay. What can’t they do?"
But the most legendary among them?
Mechanical Divinity.
They didn’t just cosplay—they lived it.
Their obsession with authenticity had become a full-fledged cult of All-Knowing Pursuit.
Even their Guild Leader, Steel Tide, didn’t know how deep the tech tree had been pushed inside the Guild.
Rumors said someone had seen blueprints for Tanks, Fighter Jets, even Intercontinental Missiles in the Armory.
It was absurd.
Curious, Stuffed Bun asked:
> "So… who do you think will win?"
> "Mechanical Divinity," answered Singo and Tian Sheng Zhan Kuang in unison.
Stuffed Bun blinked.
> "You’re this certain? Even Royal Power—those old-school giants—don’t stand a chance?"
> "Absolutely not," said Singo, shaking his head firmly.
> "You know who backs Mechanical Divinity?"
Before Stuffed Bun could reply, he continued:
> "The Empire. In fact, it’s said to be His Majesty the Emperor himself."
> "They have access to the Empire’s highest-tier technology and top-secret projects. Many of their top leaders hold key positions in the Empire Technology Department and Military Bureau."
> "With such resources, they can attract the best minds in the real world. Top-tier talents have been lured away from other Guilds."
> "Let me put it this way—this Tournament? Mechanical Divinity doesn’t even need to go all out."
> "They could pull out any weapon from their arsenal, and still crush the so-called ‘majors’ with ease."
> "Wait… seriously? That powerful?"
Stuffed Bun was stunned.
In forums, the Four Major Guilds had always been seen as evenly matched.
But Singo’s words revealed a staggering imbalance—proof that professional players operated on a completely different information level.
> "And in the current landscape, Royal Power is already crumbling. They’re losing their dominance."
Tian Sheng Zhan Kuang added with a smirk.
> "What? I thought Royal Power was still the strongest contender?"
> "In the early days, when numbers were small, their ‘spend real money, serve the rich’ model worked. But now? Ailezegai has over 400,000 players. Elite Guilds are all over a thousand strong."
> "At this scale, Royal Power’s flaws became obvious: inefficient structure, rampant individualism, unequal distribution."
> "No matter how much their wealthy Guild Leader throws at it, the money gets diluted among thousands. They’re just a paper tiger built on gold. Their decline is inevitable."
> "Ah… now I get it."
> "So this is what the pro world looks like?"
Stuffed Bun nodded thoughtfully.
Then Singo turned suddenly, grinning.
> "The Preliminary Tournament is almost over. Only a few Guilds remain. And one of them is Mechanical Divinity. Looks like the real show is about to begin."
> "Wait—next match already?!"
> "Red team: Roman Era."
The next match was underway.
The red team—Roman Era—was still riding high from their earlier victory, spirits unbroken.
Even their Guild Leader, Augustus, had directly petitioned the officials to skip the halftime break.
He wanted to ride the momentum of victory and push straight into the Elimination Tournament.
Plus, the players had consumed a certain Spirit Medicine—a substance that heightened battle intensity, making them bolder, fiercer.
They didn’t want to waste its effect.
> "Rome forever!"
> "Glory to Rome!"
Augustus waved the eagle banner high, standing at the front of the Phalanx, beaming with pride.
> "Blue team: Mechanical Divinity."
The referee’s calm voice echoed across the battlefield.
Mechanical Divinity?
A flicker of tension crossed Augustus’s face.
But he forced a smile.
> "Roman warriors! Do not fear this seemingly powerful enemy! Remember the oath you swore before me—we shall not leave this battlefield unless victorious!"
As a Jingluo fanatic, even death wouldn’t stop the cosplay.
> Boom!
> Boom! Boom!
From the enemy side, towering Aether Armors emerged—massive, metallic behemoths advancing like a wall of steel.
Behind them, players pushed forward Heavy Cannons, their black muzzles staring like the eyes of death.
Farther back, light infantry marched in thick protective suits, wielding machine rifles and flamethrowers.
Their faces, visible through glass visors, wore calm, almost indifferent expressions.
The contrast between the two sides was staggering—like a chasm spanning a thousand years of technology.
> "Holy hell..."
> "Guild Leader… should we surrender? Losing to Mechanical Divinity isn’t exactly shameful, is it?"
Augustus clenched his jaw. He drove the eagle banner deep into the ground.
> "No! Romans never surrender! Even in defeat, we die on the battlefield!"
> "Match Begins!"
The moment the words left the referee’s lips, Mechanical Divinity loaded their shells and fired.
> Boom!
The earth trembled.
A massive explosion tore through the air above the Phalanx.
Shrapnel flew. Flames roared.
Dozens of Roman Era players were vaporized in an instant.
The custom shields could stop arrows—but not bullets.
Then, the Aether Armors surged forward, moving with terrifying speed—like a horde of iron beasts, their aura crushing.
> Boom!
> "Flesh is frail, machines shall ascend!"
> "Bell one! Push lever, armor clasps piston and pump... Bell two! Press button, engine ignites, turbine fires, injects life... Bell three! Sing together, praise the God of All Machines!"
The battle had barely begun.
But under the torrent of Mechanical Divinity’s firepower, Roman Era was already decimated—over half their ranks gone.
There was no contest.
It was pure gear domination—modern military vs. primitive tribes.
Like the Three-Body civilization facing Earth.
> "Referee! I… I surrender!"
Amid the thunderous cannon fire, Augustus suddenly shouted.
A voice from the audience taunted:
> "Didn’t you say Romans never surrender?"
> "Yeah, why so quick to give up?"
Augustus shot back:
> "This is a strategic retreat!"
> "Roman Era! Do not despair! We shall return like lightning!"
Then, barely audible, he muttered:
> "Italy is Rome, isn’t it? Surrendering isn’t exactly shameful..."
Clearly, Augustus wasn’t a strict fundamentalist.
(End of Chapter)
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