Ragnarok Reaper, wielding a nacing scythe, spurred the dark horse into action, charging forward with an unstoppable montum.
In the blink of an eye, shadows manifested behind him, multiplying into a legion of phantom figures. Each shadow bore a scythe, mirroring the leader’s own weapon.
The horde of shadowy entities moved in synchronized harmony with the dark horse, creating a haunting tableau of destruction.
As they traversed the battlefield, a wave of decay followed in their wake. The scythes of the shadowy companions sliced through the skeletal horde with an almost ethereal grace, reducing them to re dust upon contact.
The sheer speed and precision of their movents left behind a trail of vanquished skeletons, crumbling into nothingness as the shadows danced through their ranks.
Ragnarok Reaper, atop his dark horse, remained an ominous figure at the forefront of the chaos.
The combination of the dark horse’s relentless charge and the relentless phantoms wielding their scythes painted a scene of unparalleled devastation.
The battlefield, once dominated by the skeletal swarm, now bore the mark of Ragnarok Reaper’s grim reaping, a testant to his unrivaled prowess as the leader of the top guild.
Xin stood frozen, his core shaken to its very foundation.
The realization struck him with force — he couldn’t fathom the vast disparity that existed not only in levels but also in skill and spells between himself and the guild leaders.
The spectacle before him was a testant to their unparalleled prowess. The four leaders not only wielded imnse power individually but also exhibited a collective dominance over the battlefield, all without the need for coordinated cooperation.
As the skeletal horde crumbled beneath the might of Fury’s dragon flas, Eclipse’s venomous serpents, Doom Harbinger’s colossal skeletal ally, and Ragnarok Reaper’s phantom army, Xin felt a profound sense of inadequacy.
The leaders effortlessly showcased a mastery of their respective abilities, weaving a tapestry of destruction that left no room for doubt about their capabilities.
Despite the absence of overt collaboration, the synergy between their powers beca evident as the battlefield transford into a canvas of chaos, painted with the remnants of the skeletal swarm.
The players in the vicinity erupted into wild cheers, their voices mingling with the exhilarating sounds of battle.
All hesitation and doubt were swept away in the wake of this awe-inspiring display of skill, leaving behind a newfound sense of reverence for the guild leaders.
Xin, amidst the jubilant crowd, couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer magnitude of the leaders’ prowess.
The battlefield, once a daunting prospect, now bore witness to a display of power that surpassed his wildest expectations.
The cheers of the players echoed in his ears, mingling with the dissipating echoes of the skeletal horde, as Xin grappled with the reality of the vast gulf that separated him from these formidable figures.
The chaotic aftermath of the battle still hung in the air when a sudden voice jolted Xin from his reverie.
Turning, he was surprised to find Fighting Bunny standing right beside him, a vibrant smile lighting up her face.
Fighting Bunny bead, her eyes reflecting the residual excitent from the spectacle. "Aweso, right?" she exclaid, clearly reveling in the triumph displayed by the guild leaders.
Xin, still processing the overwhelming display of power, could only manage a wordless agreent.
Fighting Bunny leaned in and confided, "Actually, there’s another reason why the guild leaders wanted to demonstrate their might on the first day."
Intrigued, Xin turned his attention to her, prompting her to continue.
"To increase morale," she revealed, her eyes scanning the surroundings.
As if on cue, Fighting Bunny gestured toward the exuberant crowd of players. "I think it’s a success," she declared, her voice tinged with satisfaction.
The players, caught up in the euphoria of the victorious display, echoed her sentint with cheers and animated discussions about the leaders’ prowess.
"To increase morale, huh . . ." Xin muttered, his gaze fixed on the field.
The once-dominant skeletal army, now reduced to dust and ashes, bore witness to the undeniable triumph of the guild leaders.
In the aftermath of the battle, as the dust settled and cheers echoed, Xin’s understanding deepened. The strategic brilliance behind the leaders’ decision beca clear.
The demonstration not only highlighted their formidable strength but also erged as a rallying point, infusing the guild mbers with renewed confidence and unity.
The atmosphere, once shrouded in uncertainty, now pulsed with the electric energy of triumph and solidarity.
A small smile played on Xin’s lips as he observed the aftermath, appreciating the calculated move that had shifted the dynamics of the guild.
However . . . it was ti.
Before anyone could notice, Xin slipped into the crowds, blending seamlessly with the jubilant players engrossed in the victory aftermath.
In a discreet alleyway, he t up with Hilda, accompanied by two unconscious n nad Gilbert and Frideren.
Gilbert was a DPS still affiliated with Fury’s group, and Frideren was a dwarven Tank in the Tank, Behemoth’s, group.
Xin had specifically requested Hilda to ensure they all remained in the sa group to maintain knowledge of the strategies employed during the battle.
The decision to stick to their original roles, rather than assuming identities of healers or mages, was strategic.
Different strategies were employed by each group in the battlefield, and Xin aid to avoid confusion by retaining their familiar roles.
As they prepared to change their identities, Xin harbored a hope that their actions would go unnoticed during this critical ti.
With the looming uncertainty of potential battles in the coming days, the need for a discreet transition weighed heavily on his mind.
=======
Later that night, the jubilant atmosphere of celebration and revelry continued as everyone basked in the victory of the first day, the guild leaders permitting the festivities to unfold.
In a quiet corner of the inn, Steel Striker, the vice leader of Brotherhood Legion, entered Ragnarok Reaper’s room.
"Why aren’t you in the party downstairs?" he inquired.
Ragnarok Reaper, engrossed in studying a map on his screen and refining strategies for the upcoming days, replied, "I’m busy."
Steel Striker sighed and walked to the window, observing the lively scene below. "It must be nice to be happy like that."
"Are you not drinking with the others?" Ragnarok Reaper questioned.
Steel Striker shrugged. "Knowing what will happen, I’m in no mood to celebrate. I’ll only drink until I drop onto the floor, vomiting and crying in tears when we clear this dungeon."
Ragnarok Reaper chuckled. "I’ll hold you to that."
"But is that alright?" Steel Striker gestured towards the window. "They’re being too happy and carefree right now."
"It’s fine," Ragnarok Reaper reassured. "It’s only in the first and second day that they’ll be like that. Best let them enjoy it while it lasts."
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