Legendary Broken Player - VRMMORPG

In the grand throne room of the Kesseon Kingdom, King Fergus was casually cleaning the grime from between his teeth. A man with a heavy pot belly, he lounged on the throne with one leg crossed over the other, lazily issuing his next command.

“Bring that foolish player here. Immediately.”

Moments later, the heavy doors of the throne room creaked open. A tall, broad-shouldered man stepped inside. Blond hair fell to his shoulders, framing cold, piercing blue eyes and a jaw sharp enough to cut steel. He was Constantine—the Wrath Champion.

He gave a low, respectful bow before fixing his gaze on the relaxed but imposing figure of the king.

“Speak,” the king said.

“Your Majesty, King Fergus,” Constantine began, his voice steady. “What I reported months ago still stands. Slumdon Town has not only fortified itself but now commands a formidable army. They’ve stripped our border territories of resources, and more importantly, they’ve drawn a massive wave of players away from Valantar City. This shift will lead to our slow collapse—unless we act.”

The king scowled. “And how many of those precious players have you managed to sway to our side?”

Constantine gave a thin smile, bowing once more.

“Five thousand, Your Majesty.”

King Fergus grinned—an amused, cruel grin. He laughed, the sound echoing off marble walls.

“Five thousand players is nothing compared to my standing army. But… I appreciate the effort.”

“I stand ready for your command,” Constantine said. “Give the word, and we’ll march on Slumdon Town.”

With a grunt, the king rose from his throne. His footsteps were heavy as he descended the steps, each one punctuating the tension that had begun to thicken in the air.

“Dissidia is ruled now by an inexperienced queen,” Fergus growled. “A child. A weakling. If they plan to bleed us slowly… then I’ll end them quickly. Completely.”

He paused in front of Constantine, eyes sharp and burning.

“Your Majesty,” Constantine continued, “I am confident we have the numbers to execute this strike. More importantly, they will need time to mobilize reinforcements to Slumdon Town. We can take the city, deal the damage, and pull back before they recover. With the scale of development and investment they’ve poured into that town, its fall would cripple them—and strike a heavy blow to the Dissidia Kingdom, which hasn’t even fully risen yet.”

“Hah!” King Fergus let out a sharp laugh, though it lacked any hint of humor. “If we move on them, I have no doubt the forces of the White Sands Kingdom will seize the opportunity to strike as well. They’re closer to that northwestern stretch. They’ve been waiting for an excuse.”

Constantine bowed slightly once again. “We’ve already sent messages to the Guild Association operating within their territory. They’re prepared to respond if needed. Their alignment favors us, especially with what’s at stake.”

The king’s grin returned, slow and dangerous. He lifted his right hand, just slightly—but it was all it took.

“Move a larger force to the border,” he said, his voice like steel wrapped in silk. “Let’s see how they respond.”

And just like that, the decision was made.

The declaration of war—something Constantine had planned, nurtured, and anticipated—was no longer a distant ambition.

It was real.

And this time, he wouldn’t stop at victory. He would rise—not just as a commander, not just a name whispered among the strongest—but as a new king. A player-king.

In the brutal world of Immortal Legacy.

***

Meanwhile, Broken was still in conversation with Maylock when a message came through—urgent and clear—from the Floating Island. Someone had arrived. Someone he had long suspected would come eventually.

He didn’t wait.

Without another word, he activated the pendant around his neck, and in an instant, the familiar rush of light engulfed him—until he landed once more on the Floating Island.

The first to greet him was Vallrick, who came running with visible panic in his expression.

“Broken… the queen… the queen…” he stammered breathlessly.

Yes. The queen.

Queen Nerisa had arrived.

Without hesitation, Broken took off toward the island’s edge. Others had already gathered, murmuring, pointing toward the horizon where the sea churned in unusual patterns.

Three colossal armored whales had broken the surface of the sea, their forms gleaming with ornate plating that shimmered like obsidian and pearl. Water cascaded off their backs in great waves, and from those waves rose an even more astonishing image—one that stole the breath of every onlooker.

A tide of water surged upward, forming a spiraling pillar of seafoam, and atop that crest rode a figure who appeared to be walking on the ocean itself.

Broken narrowed his gaze, activating the vision feed from his flying golem to get a closer look at the central whale. And there—on a throne carved directly into the armored back of the largest beast—sat the queen.

Regal. Untouchable. Her presence didn’t merely arrive—it claimed the sea.

Livelywood and Jovina approached quietly, joining Broken at the edge of the cliff, eyes fixed on the stunning procession unfolding on the sea below.

“Is that the queen you told us about?” Jovina asked, brows raised in awe. “She looks insanely powerful.”

Broken didn’t answer right away.

“Hehehe…” Livelywood chuckled nervously. “You sure this isn’t dangerous for the island? You did kind of piss her off enough to make her come here in person.”

“Yo, this has to be just some family drama,” Jovina chimed in with a smirk. “Broken and his soon-to-be third wife, haha.”

With a sigh and a hint of a smile, Broken raised his hand and summoned Polly. The fox materialized instantly, circling them in the air with elegant sweeps of her wings.

“Wait here,” he said. “I’ll go meet the queen.”

He leapt onto Polly’s back, and with a powerful beat of her wings, they soared skyward, cutting through the clouds before diving down toward the sea. Mist sprayed across them as they neared the surface, the sea rising to greet them—and in the center of it all, now in full view, was Queen Nerisa.

She sat upon her throne as if carved from the sea itself, legs crossed, gaze cool and commanding, untouched by the crashing water around her.

Broken landed smoothly on the back of the massive armored whale. He walked forward without hesitation until he stood directly before her.

“Hi,” he said with a casual smile. “You know, if you’d told me you were visiting, I would’ve prepared a much grander welcome.”

Queen Nerisa’s expression didn’t shift. Her voice, when it came, was smooth as the tide—yet razor-sharp beneath the surface.

“What if I just bring this island closer to my kingdom… so I can destroy it easily if you ever show up late again?”

Broken tilted his head slightly, that same amused calm in his voice. “Can you do that?”

He wasn’t sure if it was a threat… or a promise.

And honestly? He wasn’t sure which answer would be more dangerous.