Chapter 91: One Man Against Ironclad

The Scarred Waste stretched for dozens of miles east of Westfall, a desolate expanse of cracked earth, jagged stone, and wind-scoured ridges.

The ground bore the scars of countless battles, with deep fissures cutting through the gray-brown soil and patches of dead vegetation clinging stubbornly to the rocks.

It was far from peaceful.

Level 40 elites prowled the open terrain in search of prey.

Scarhide Rhinos lumbered across the wasteland in heavy packs, their thick hides reinforced with jagged plates, while Ashfang Wolves hunted between the ridges, their dark bodies moving through the dust like shadows.

For ordinary players, the area was dangerous hunting territory.For a well-organized guild, however, it was an opportunity.

Nearly two thousand Ironclad members had spread across the Scarred Waste, divided into five-man groups.

Each team hunted its assigned monsters, coordinated its attacks, and contributed experience toward the guild’s collective progression.

Shared experience from organized guild events was one of the fastest ways to raise a guild’s level during the early stages of Ascension.

Ironclad had only recently established its presence in Westfall, and this was its first major coordinated leveling operation since the guild’s formation.

The stakes were considerable.

A strong start would help Ironclad recruit better players, secure valuable resources, and establish itself as one of Westfall’s dominant forces before its rivals could catch up.

Naturally, Damian Sterling had come in person.As the guild leader, he understood the importance of showing his face during the organization’s first major operation.

His presence would keep the officers focused and reassure the members that the guild’s leadership was committed to its growth.

Yet anyone watching him closely would have noticed that his attention rarely stayed on the battle in front of him for long.

His gaze kept drifting toward the distant horizon.Sometimes his expression tightened.

At other moments, he appeared lost in thought, his eyes narrowing as though he were trying to make sense of something he couldn’t quite bring himself to acknowledge.

The silence had lasted through the night.

Seven of his best operatives had gone out the previous evening at the instigation of a mysterious stranger.

They had been experienced enough to handle most ordinary situations, and the mission hadn’t been supposed to take long.

Yet none of them had returned.

No messages. No reports. Not even a brief confirmation that the operation had been completed.

Sterling didn’t need someone to explain what that meant.Whatever had happened to the seven men, things had gone badly wrong.

Grief sat heavily in his chest, but it was the fear beneath it that truly troubled him. Those men hadn’t been ordinary recruits.

They were capable operatives whose loss would weaken his organization outside the game, and their disappearance raised a far more dangerous possibility.

Kael Mercer might already know.

Sterling had spent much of the night considering what would happen if Kael traced the attack back to him.

The thought had kept him awake long after he had received the last unanswered message.

Fortunately, he had prepared for that possibility.

The moment the strike team left, Sterling had already relocated to a new residence that couldn’t be traced back to his previous address.

Whatever Kael suspected, he wouldn’t find Sterling’s actual home through the obvious channels.That left only one practical avenue for retaliation.

Ascension.

And standing in the middle of the Scarred Waste, surrounded by nearly two thousand guild members, Sterling finally had something resembling confidence to hold on to.

Ironclad was the first guild established in Westfall.

Its rapid recruitment drive had attracted some of the strongest unaffiliated players in the secondary capital, while its organized leveling operation had pushed the average member’s level comfortably above 36.

Two thousand players.A formidable roster.And every one of them was here.

Sterling surveyed the sprawling formation, watching his members work together to bring down a Scarhide Rhino.

Warriors held the creature’s attention while archers fired from the rear. Mages struck its exposed flanks, and healers kept the frontline standing.

The beast eventually collapsed beneath their combined attacks.A few cheers rose from the nearby groups.

Sterling watched the scene, and some of the tension in his shoulders finally eased.

’The strongest player on the server or not, he’s still one man.’

His jaw tightened.

’No one survives a thousand people attacking at once. Two thousand? Forget it.’The confidence he had been trying to recover began to return in earnest.

If Kael wanted revenge, then he would have to come through the entire guild. Sterling had the numbers, the terrain, and enough organized firepower to turn the surrounding wasteland into a killing ground.

He could lose a few members and still win.

He could lose a few hundred and still have more than enough people left to overwhelm one opponent.

A cold smile crept across his face.

"If that bastard is stupid enough to show up here looking for a fight," he muttered, "he won’t be walking back out."

A scream tore across the wasteland."What was that? What’s happening?!"Sterling’s head snapped toward the sound.

His pupils contracted as he searched the distant sky, his expression changing the instant he saw what was approaching.

A gigantic eagle swept low over the Scarred Waste, its wings spread wide against the pale sky.

Golden lightning crawled across its feathers, flashing along its talons and gathering around its enormous body.Thunder cracked overhead.

The eagle tilted one wing.

A barrage of golden bolts ripped downward.

The first strike detonated among a five-man team, scattering dust and broken fragments of stone across the ground.

Before the survivors could even react, more lightning crashed into their formation, swallowing their desperate attempts to escape in a blinding storm.

Their health bars vanished almost instantly.

Five players were wiped out in a single pass.

The eagle climbed through the fading smoke, its wings beating against the wind as golden sparks streamed from its body.

And standing on its back was a lone figure.He wore fitted leather armor, with a whip coiled at his hip.

His posture remained steady despite the height and speed, one hand resting near his side as he looked down over the sprawling wasteland.

He didn’t appear excited.

There was no wild expression of anger, no desperate need to announce himself through some theatrical display.

He simply looked down at the battlefield as though he had arrived to collect something that already belonged to him.

Kael Mercer.

The name struck Sterling before the figure had even spoken.

Kael stood tall on Thunder Roc’s back, his gaze moving across the scattered hunting groups until it settled on the central gathering of Ironclad members.

Then his voice rang across the wasteland.

"Damian Sterling! Come out and face what’s coming!"

The words carried farther than they should have, rolling across the open terrain and cutting through the sounds of combat.

For one brief moment, the entire wasteland seemed to fall silent.A Warrior froze with his sword halfway through a swing.

An Archer lowered his bow without realizing it. Several Mages turned away from their targets, staring upward as the golden-lit eagle circled above them.

Confusion spread through the guild.Why had Unrivaled flown all the way from Frostwatch to Westfall?

Why was he attacking Ironclad?

And why had he announced Sterling’s name as though the entire guild were nothing more than an inconvenience standing between them?

The officers exchanged uneasy looks.

Nobody understood what had brought the server’s strongest player here.

Nobody except Sterling.His face darkened, and his hands curled into fists.

’So he really knows.’

The thought sent a chill through him, but it was quickly buried beneath a surge of anger.

Whatever Kael knew, whatever he believed had happened to the seven operatives, he had made one serious mistake.

He had come alone.

"Full assembly!" Sterling roared. "Everyone, converge on my position! Now!"

His voice carried across the nearby groups, sharp enough to cut through their confusion.

"That arrogant son of a bitch thinks he can fly into our territory and disrespect this entire guild?"

His expression twisted with fury as he pointed toward the eagle overhead. "Then we’ll teach him what happens when he picks a fight with Ironclad!"

The order spread rapidly.

Across the Scarred Waste, players abandoned their hunting formations.

Warriors stopped fighting monsters and began sprinting toward Sterling’s coordinates. Archers and Mages regrouped with their teams, while officers barked instructions through the guild channel.

The organized leveling operation dissolved into a mass mobilization.Two thousand players began converging on a single location.

The ground trembled beneath the movement of hundreds of boots.

Dust rose from the cracked earth as groups poured between the ridges, filling the open spaces around Sterling and gradually forming a vast formation beneath the circling Thunder Roc.

Above them, Kael watched without moving.

He had come here for Ironclad’s main roster, and now the entire guild was gathering in front of him.

Exactly what he wanted.