The real treasure in the Honor System wasn’t the equipnt itself but this certain stone.
The gear available there had resilience unmatched by anything else in the ga, but its other attributes were painfully average. No raid leader in their right mind would let you waltz into a dungeon wearing a full resilience set. You’d only drag the whole party down.
That was where the Resilience Forging Stone ca in. It allowed players to modify their PvE gear, giving it the resilience needed for PvP. One stone increased resilience by a single point. Simple enough.
The problem was the cost.
The highest-tier gear in the Honor System, reserved for those with the title of Grand Marshal or Warlord, required 30,000 honor points and ca with a built-in 500 resilience. That was for just one piece of a set. By comparison, each Resilience Forging Stone cost 200 honor points. To add 500 resilience to a piece of gear, you’d need a hundred thousand points—and that wasn’t even counting crafting fees.
To most players, it was insane.
But Ethan didn’t see it that way. He already had legendary weapons and more than a few pieces of top-grade equipnt with excellent stats. All he needed was resilience, and he could have the best of both worlds.
Money wasn’t a problem either. He could always liquidate his stockpile of gold and diamonds, and that was without even considering the fortune he had hauled out of the Sea of Death. Beyond that, he still controlled the largest shops and auction houses across the entire Northern Frontier. Developnt would take ti, true, but even that was running out.
The system’s upcoming real-currency integration ant the economy was about to change forever. And now, Zachary had forced Ethan’s hand, going so far as to target his weak spot. That, Ethan couldn’t forgive.
Until now, he had only wanted to bring Zachary down a notch, maybe humble him. But Ivy’s involvent had tipped the balance. This ti, he had resolved himself: Zachary and Ivy would die. And as for the Steele Consortium, with all their supposedly overwhelming financial power... let them try competing with him in wealth. He would drive them into despair.
Ethan’s thoughts were interrupted by a sudden shout.
"There he is! That idiot didn’t run after all!"
A wave of warmth swept across him, like a sudden breeze carrying heat.
Not good. That was a detection skill, one designed to strip away stealth.
Ethan’s gaze flicked north, toward the small town he had been moving toward. Since the world announcent had exposed him, there was no point in hiding anymore. He would charge straight into town and cause as much chaos as possible.
A flare arced through the air, falling slowly, and the one who had thrown it was already grinning at him. The hunter showed no fear as their eyes locked.
In this part of the world, in the wilderness, who would ever back down?
"What are you staring at?" the hunter called.
Ethan blinked, caught off guard by the absurdity of it. "What’s it to you?" he shot back without thinking.
"Keep staring and I’ll ta you as a pet!" the hunter jeered. With a flourish, he activated Ta Beast, aiming it at Ethan.
Little floating hearts popped up over Ethan’s head.
The humiliation was instant and sharp.
"You bastard..." Ethan’s lips curled back in a snarl. "Die!"
His form blurred as he launched into Wild Charge, instantly closing the distance and slamming into position behind the hunter. His claws raked out in a Rake, bleeding the man, followed by a savage Shred.
The hunter had barely started his ridiculous butt-wiggling dance animation for Ta Beast when his vision blurred. He collapsed, spirit form spilling out of his fallen body.
[Ding... System Notification: Honor Value 1!]
Ethan spat on the ground. "Disgusting."
"Brothers, charge! Kill him!"
The roar ca from the town, and Ethan’s head snapped up to see hundreds of Carnage Faction players surging toward him, weapons raised.
"Perfect."
His body swelled and twisted into Bear Form. "Charge!"
The massive gray-furred figure barreled forward, scattering dust as he smashed into the oncoming wave. Three warriors crumpled into corpses instantly under his Cleave. He followed up with Rending Gale, Heavy Strike, Lacerate—his blows tearing through bodies faster than the eye could track.
When the imdiate danger cleared, his form shimred again. Owl Form.
"Sunburn. Sunburn. Sunburn!"
Blinding light erupted from his feathers as he cast, hamring the distant crowd. Players within the glowing zones scread, covering their eyes.
"My eyes! Damn it!"
Ethan shifted back to panther form and pounced on the nearest necromancer, shredding him before the man could recover. He paused, startled, as he realized the enemy group was flailing blindly, slashing and swinging at nothing.
The Sunburn wasn’t just damage over ti—it was actually burning out their vision like a flashbang.
A grin split his feline muzzle. "Heh. Don’t bla for this."
Then he was off, weaving through the disoriented mass. Every Shred was lethal. Even shield-bearing warriors dropped in two strikes. When things clustered too tightly, he’d flip back into owl form for another Sunburn, blinding and burning them all over again.
It was slaughter.
By the ti the last player dropped, Ethan had racked up 134 honor points in barely three minutes.
Then the ground began to tremble.
"Heh... more honor delivery," he murmured, eyes gleaming.
A booming rhythm rolled across the plain. Ethan turned to see a shield wall advancing in formation: a line of barbarian shield tanks, their heavy steps pounding like drums. Behind them stretched ranks of hunters, rangers, necromancers, and shamans. The horizon seed to bristle with weapons and spellcasters.
"Volley! Fire!"
"Fire!"
The commands echoed as thousands of projectiles arced into the sky, descending in waves toward his position.
Ethan swore. The formation, the timing—it was exactly like the tactics he had once used against Unity Hall in the starter zone.
Why here, why now? And how in the world had they assembled such a massive, disciplined force so quickly? He counted tens of thousands, maybe seventy or eighty thousand in total.
What Ethan didn’t know was that his own combat tactics had beco the blueprint for guild warfare. The Carnage Faction, where battles erupted constantly, had dissected and perfected them. And as fate would have it, the little out-of-the-way town he had chosen for his rampage was the very eting place chosen by the major guilds.
A neutral zone. Safe from ambush, or so they had thought.
Instead, they had walked straight into him.
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