Chapter 47: A Ruthless Rejection!

If Aiden Cross were truly an ignorant outsider encountering Damien for the first time, he might genuinely have been moved by such rhetoric.

Unfortunately... He was Aiden Cross. Aiden Cross who had personally witnessed the coldness and cruelty hidden beneath that benevolent mask.

He knew exactly what kind of man Damien Bale truly was.

"Brothers?" Aiden repeated the word softly. "Sharing power? Sharing glory?"

The corners of his mouth slowly curled upward. It was a smile devoid of warmth. Only coldness and ridicule remained within it.

"Damien Bale..."

His voice was barely above a whisper. "Your acting is still as... nauseating as ever."

He could almost picture Damien sitting somewhere as he wrote the message, wearing that same hypocritical expression.

Calm. Sincere. Generous. As though he were genuinely opening his arms to a talented stranger.

As though every word came from the bottom of his heart.

As though everything wasn’t already part of a carefully calculated game.

Deputy Guild Leader? Aiden almost laughed. It was nothing more than bait.

A sufficiently tempting piece of bait designed to lure a powerful outsider into Damien’s sphere of influence.

And once that outsider had served his purpose...

Once his value had been exhausted, or once his existence began threatening Damien’s own position...

His fate would be no different from Aiden’s in his previous life.

Aiden’s fingers hovered over the virtual keyboard.

For a brief moment, the urge to tear off Damien’s mask immediately surged through him.

He wanted to expose every lie. Every deception. Every act of betrayal.

He wanted to unleash all the hatred he had carried through his death and rebirth in the most vicious words imaginable.

But that would only be satisfying. And stupid. Revealing that he knew too much would accomplish nothing except alerting Damien.

It would make that bastard cautious. It would force him to change his plans. And Aiden had no intention of allowing that to happen. Not yet.

He needed to continue playing the role of the Reaper. A mysterious powerhouse. A lone wolf. Powerful, unpredictable, arrogant, and completely unwilling to be bound by anyone.

So Aiden calmly composed his response. It was short and cold.

And carried just enough undisguised arrogance to perfectly fit the persona he had created.

[I appreciate Guild Leader Bale’s good intentions.

I am a lone crane, accustomed to solitude, and I have no interest in being bound by a guild.

As for the position of Deputy Guild Leader, please find someone else.

— Reaper]

That was all. No explanation. No polite refusal. Not even the slightest acknowledgment of Damien’s grand vision or righteous cause.

It was as though all those carefully crafted promises were nothing more than empty words unworthy of his attention.

It wasn’t merely a refusal. It was disdain. Aiden smiled as he pressed the send button.

The message disappeared into the forum.

For a moment, he stared at the screen in silence. Then his eyes narrowed slightly. The game had begun.

He could almost imagine what was happening on the other side of the screen.

The moment Damien Bale saw that short, arrogant reply, the charismatic smile he habitually wore as a leader would stiffen for an instant.

Deep within those seemingly calm eyes, a flicker of anger and malice would inevitably surface.

For a man as confident and controlling as Damien Bale, such a ruthless rejection was more than a simple refusal.

It was a provocation. A slap to the face.

"Not happy?" Aiden leaned back against his seat, closing his eyes as a cold, almost gratifying satisfaction spread through his chest. "Damien Bale..."

The corners of his lips curled upward. "This is only the beginning."

"When you are rejected by me again and again..."

"When the opportunities you believe belong to you are taken from your grasp one after another..."

"And when the power you painstakingly built collapses in my hands..."

His smile gradually became colder. "You’ll be even less happy."

"Enjoy it. Enjoy the feeling of watching the ’destiny’ you once believed belonged to you being stripped away, piece by piece."

He no longer cared about whatever messages might follow.

Damien might attempt to salvage the situation. He might probe for information.

He might even change his approach and offer something more tempting.

None of it mattered. Aiden directly set [Damned Dragon] to "Do Not Disturb."

He understood what today’s exchange meant.

There had been no open conflict between the Reaper and Dragon Sovereign. No threats No insults.

No hostility that could be placed beneath the scrutiny of outsiders.

Yet beneath that calm surface, an invisible rift had already formed.

And once formed, it would only grow deeper.

Damien Bale would never willingly abandon the opportunity to recruit someone as powerful as the Reaper.

But a man like him would never truly trust an existence he could not control.

If recruitment failed... Then probing would follow. And if probing failed... Perhaps suppression.

Aiden’s eyes slowly opened. A cold glint flashed within them. "Come on."

"Let me see what other tricks you, this so-called ’Sovereign of Fate,’ have up your sleeve."

He started the vehicle and the engine rumbled to life, its low roar drowning out the distant noise surrounding City Hall.

"Whether you come at me with open spears or hidden arrows... I’ll take them all."

The Rezvani accelerated, quickly pulling away from the City Hall.

Behind him remained the chaos of the dungeon, the countless players still discussing the Reaper, and the unseen currents of recruitment and factional maneuvering.

Ahead lay a road that neither side could yet see the end of.

Aiden’s gaze remained calm as he watched the scenery blur past the windows.

"This game has only just begun. And this time... I am destined to be the final winner."

The first official contact between the Reaper and Dragon Sovereign had ended with a single, condescending refusal.

But beneath those few lines of text, the first move in Aiden Cross’s war of revenge had already been made.

And in that first psychological battle... He had won.