The moment Zack logged into Immortals Conflict, the server's chat was already buzzing louder than usual. Lines of messages scrolled past faster than he could even read them.
[World Chat] "They finally opened the new area!"
[World Chat] "Guildmaster District's live in Gaia City!"
[World Chat] "You can register guilds now — need three players minimum!"
Zack sighed, before opening his status window. The faint blue screen flashed into existence, lines of text and icons hovering neatly before his eyes.
[Party Chat – Online Members: 5]
Zack: Where are you guys?
Haze: Near the new Guild District.
Iris: Yeah, we're checking out the crowd. It's absurd how fun this is. Obi: I counted twelve "Dragon" names in five minutes. Someone stop them.
PointAndShoot: Also saw "UwU Knights." Humanity's doomed.
Zack just shook his head and then started walking down the main street, the crowd denser than usual. Word spread fast, players were sprinting across the cobblestone roads toward the new section on the west side of the city.
Even the local NPC guards were talking about it, their idle chatter updated to mention the 'guild office expansion' as part of the lore.
Zack wasn't in a hurry. At least, not until a sharp blink pulsed at the edge of his vision.
He froze mid-step.
His status panel—flashing.
"…Huh?" He opened it, expecting maybe a quest update.
What he saw instead knocked the breath out of him.
"You have been chosen as a Champion of ******"
"Complete the Tutorial to gain further insights."
"Cha…pion?"
He frowned, confusion twisting into dread as more text scrolled into view.
"A Champion must secure the victory of their chosen one"
"Failure = Loss of Real Life"
His heart lurched. The noisy street around him dimmed into a distant blur.
Then more text appeared:
"You are forbidden from disclosing any details about Champions or Sponsors, whether in-game or in the real world, unless the other party is already aware. Breaching this rule will remove all protections, enabling any Champion or Sponsor to track you in the real world. The system will detect any attempts to disclose information"
"Direct attacks on fellow Champions in the real world are strictly prohibited"
Any Champion who commits such an offense will be immediately classified as a Rogue Participant.
A Sponsor will then be designated as the Authorized Hunter and granted a 24-hour window to eliminate the Rogue Participant.
If the Assigned Hunter fails to complete the elimination within the mandated period, the same penalty will apply to the Hunter.
"You may rebel against your Sponsor by permanently sacrificing one Skill Slot"
"Champion Perks will unlock after you finish your Tutorial"
"The Tutorial Zone is designated so Sponsors can find their Champions. You have the freedom to act as you wish within it"
By the time the last line vanished, Zack experienced an entirely, profoundly eerie feeling. He couldn't even tell what he was feeling. His thoughts churned, colliding and pulling apart as he tried and failed to make sense of them.
He stood in the middle of the crowded street, players brushing past him but he barely registered any of it. His mind scattered in a dozen directions, until his focus snapped back with sudden, chilling clarity.
His gaze remained fixed on the panel.
Now he understood what the blond man had hinted at— Champions. And this… this warped arrangement behind them.
"This is Bullshit," he muttered, a shadow of anger curling through his words.
A game that wasn't a game. Sponsors selecting fighters. Serious repercussions tied to a wish. And he had somehow found himself at the very core of it.
"Just when you think it can't get any more absurd..." He dragged a hand down his face.
He had believed he wouldn't be targeted as long as he played wisely within the game. But this was beyond anything he had ever prepared for.
A weak, helpless laugh escaped him. What the hell have I gotten myself into…?
"And did I become that blond guy's champion? Without even agreeing? No… he said I was 'his' champion, so it's probably not him…"
As Zack contemplated all of this he couldn't help but curse.
"Damn you, Rin. 'Popular game' my foot."
"And that letter… he'd been foolish enough to believe it was sent by someone trying to help. Now the truth hit hard enough to rattle him. They might as well have spelled it out: 'Grant my wish or perish.'"
He let every curse spill out, voice sharp and biting, drawing a few curious and increasingly amused—glances from the adventurers passing through the plaza.
A duo of players halted mid-stride, one nudging the other with an elbow. "Think he just lost a duel or something?" the first whispered.
The second shook his head slowly, a distant look appearing in his eyes. "Nah… looks like he got dumped by his girlfriend," he murmured, a faint trace of melancholy in his voice, as if speaking from experience. The first player couldn't help but roll his eyes at the solemnity.
Even a wandering merchant slowed his cart, the wheels kicking up dust as he listened to their whispers. He shook his head softly and muttered, "Poor guy…" before nudging his horses onward, leaving the plaza's murmurs behind.
Meanwhile Zack spent the next few minutes muttering every curse he knew until he finally tired himself out and forced his breathing to steady.
One thing was painfully, undeniably evident:
Whatever this "Champion" nonsense was, the system wasn't going to let him quit. And those Champions and Sponsors sure as hell wouldn't either.
And if he tried to run, hide or reveal anything…
The system would know.
And it would make sure the consequences followed.
The marketplace noise gradually crawled back into his awareness; metal striking metal, merchants calling out, footsteps against stone. None of it felt real. Zack drew in a slow breath and forced himself to move. Standing still wouldn't change what the system had dropped on him.
He walked, each step heavier than the last, until a new structure came into view: a broad stretch of marble steps rising toward a towering archway. The gold lettering above it gleamed sharply:
Guild District – Administration Hall
The place was huge. Pillars lined both sides and massive banners hung from the ceiling. Inside, rows of registration counters were already swarmed with players forming trios and arguing over names.
A crystal board near the entrance displayed the new rules:
[Guild Formation Requirements]
Minimum of 3 players in a registered party.
Registration fee: 200 Gold (limited event discount)
Must choose a Guild Name and Banner Design.
Optional: Guild Motto.
The Administration Hall was buzzing with players.
Zack stepped through the archway and scanned the crowd until he spotted his party near one of the occupied counters.
Nearby, one group was nearly shouting.
"I'm telling you, 'Crimson Howlers' sounds way cooler than 'We Give Bananas."
"We're not naming ourselves after a fruit, idiot!"
He hardly gave them a second look.
Normally he might've found it amusing.
Right now, it simply made him aware of the distance, an invisible line between him and the others that he hadn't noticed until today.
He approached, his expression unreadable, doing his best to bury the restlessness clawing at his chest.
Haze was leaning against a column, arms folded; Iris waved the moment she saw him; Point was talking too loud for her own good and Obi looked like he regretted his life choices.
Zack walked over, slipping between players. "You all done sightseeing?"
Haze looked up and replied "We were waiting for you."
"So, what's the verdict? He asked.
Iris grinned. "We're voting on names! Current list includes 'Arcflare,' 'Silver Veil,' and… don't ask about Point's idea."
Point: "Okay hear me out — The Glazed Order. It sounds holy and powerful… until you realize it's about donuts."
Point was in the middle of her pitch, voice loud enough to make a few players glance over.
"—so yeah, it's catchy, it's memorable and everyone loves donuts!"
Zack's eyebrow twitched. Why… in all the possible words in existence would our guild name involve donuts?
"It has cholesterol" Obi said dryly.
Zack scrolled through the interface and said - "Alright. How about something neutral. Short, clean. 'Oblivion Pact,' maybe."
Haze glanced over. "Not bad."
Point frowned. "A little too... doom cult, don't you think?"
"Better than pastry cult," Obi mumbled.
The noise of the hall dulled for a moment, everyone had run out of ideas or the will to argue.
The guild terminal glowed faintly, waiting for input. The group had already thrown around a dozen names... most either too edgy or too stupid to live.
The silence that followed was almost peaceful. Almost.
Zack stood with arms crossed, expression unreadable, while the others stared at the guild terminal as if it might name itself.
Then Point spoke up quietly. "What a- about… The Vultari?"
The group turned to her.
Zack's rubbed the bridge of his nose. Still, he didn't interrupt her.
Point grinned. "The Vultari. Think about it... everybody already calls us Vultures, right? But this gives it class. Sounds like an old order or bloodline, not just a bird picking at corpses."
She shrugged, a little self-conscious but firm. "That's us, isn't it? We're the ones still standing when everyone else wipes. In raids, in PvP, in anything. We take what's left and make it ours."
The others went quiet.
Obi was the first to break the silence, his usual sarcasm tempered for once. "That's.... actually not bad."
As if the thought itself had summoned him, he turned towards Zack and broke into unrestrained laughter. "Guess your legacy's already set," he said between breaths, clearly enjoying it.
Iris smiled faintly, the corner of her mouth twitching as if she were barely holding it in. "Yeah," she said after a second. "'The Vultari.' Sounds ancient.
Like a clan name from some ruined kingdom." She paused, then nodded, as though conceding something. "Elegant… but still dangerous."
Haze gave a small nod. "It fits our image. Cold. Patient. Ruthless when needed. After a beat, her gaze shifted to Zack as she added, "and almost suspiciously accurate."
Zack let out a quiet sigh, glancing at them as if their antics were mildly tiresome. "It's just a name."
Point snorted, laughing. "Says the 'Vulture Priest.' You can run, but you can't hide—might as well make it official."
Iris let out a soft laugh. "So much effort from everyone to find a perfect name and somehow, it's your name on the guild."
Haze didn't miss a beat. "History has a sense of humor."
Zack stayed silent for a moment, letting the name settle in his thoughts. At last, he murmured, "Yeah… it's fitting."
Point grinned. "Never. This is character development."
Zack glanced at them, unimpressed. "You're all welcome to keep talking."
Point raised an eyebrow, smirking. "That's your version of 'good job,' right?"
He didn't reply, just turned to Haze. "Go ahead and register before it's taken."
Haze nodded once and walked over to the counter. She tapped on the crystal screen and typed the guild name carefully, then added each of their names one by one.
[Guild Registration – Processing...]
[Verifying name availability...]
["The Vultari" — Available.]
The crystal gave off a soft pulse and a faint breeze seemed to move through the hall.
[System Notification]: Guild "The Vultari" successfully registered.
Haze looked back at them. "It's done."
Point let out a small cheer. "See? Told you it sounded perfect."
The system confirmed their emblem: a black wing curved into a crescent.
Obi looked at it and grinned. "'The Vultari.' Sounds like people should already know who we are."
Iris smirked. "Yeah they do."
Point acknowledged with a brief nod. "Of course."
Guild Name: The Vultari
Guild Emblem: (a sleek, winged emblem circling a sharp talon, faintly glowing)
Member Limit: 5 / 50
A soft ping indicated the interface was live. Clicking through each option revealed neat submenus: avatars for members, empty slots with a "Recruit Now" prompt.
The interface thrummed softly, giving the illusion that the guild itself was awake.
Menu Options:
Members → View all current members, their classes, levels and online status.
Recruitment Settings → Set member requirements: level, class or open to all.
Guild Inventory → Manage shared resources, funds and rare materials.
Guild Quests → Accept quest to boost Guild Points, its leads to increase in the rank of guild in leaderboards (members limit is also increased).
Guild Skills → Gets bonus on guild war and passive effects.
Guild Announcements → Broadcast messages to all members.
Guild Emblem and Banner → Customize visuals and flair for reputation.
Iris tapped through the recruitment settings, her eyes scanning the empty slots blinking with "Recruit Now."
"What's the plan from here?" Iris asked. "Recruit randomly or make some rules about level or class?"
"We don't need random players," Haze said after a pause. "Let's just bring in people we actually know; our acquaintances. At least for now, it keeps things manageable."
After scanning the guild interface, Iris spoke up. "Now that the guild's set up, why don't we start some quests? Pick whatever's manageable, nothing too tough and finish them at your own pace."
The party nodded in agreement, ready to start on their guild quests.
Just then, Obi spoke up. "By the way, multiple raids— some random, some guilds, are all heading for the first clear of the field boss in Silverflow Marshlands: Lurking Leviathan. Anyone thinking of joining?"
The party exchanged quick looks. A mixture of excitement and apprehension ran through them.
Zack's thumb dragged down the World Chat feed, though his eyes weren't really on the text.
"It's… different now," he muttered, the words pushed out more like a reflex than a thought.
The chatter on his screen blurred in and out but that one system line didn't.
"Failure = Loss of Real Life"
It sat in the back of his mind like a hand around his throat... constant, cold and impossible to ignore. Whatever he was saying to the others, part of him was still stuck there, replaying that sentence over and over.
"Field bosses used to be handled by small parties of five people. But now… multiple groups of thirty are coordinating their raids."
Haze's gaze lingered on him for a moment before she said, "True… it won't be as easy as before. We can't just swoop in and finish things anymore. This time, we'll have to take real risks and maybe make a few enemies along the way."
Iris tilted her head. "… it's almost a small army."
Point also agreed, tapping the counter thoughtfully. "Exactly. Sure, we outmatch them individually but if they move like a unit, chain skills, cover each other's gaps and keep the boss locked down even in a mess it would be hard."
Seeing everyone losing the motivation to go for the boss, Zack paused. He couldn't back out anymore, he was the one stuck in this mess.
And he couldn't afford to test whether the system's warnings were real or not. Meeting that blond man once was enough to show him just how far things could spiral.
Now, taking risks wasn't optional; it was the only way forward. He didn't know what his future would look like but for now, survival came first. Even if it meant using others when he had to.
He exhaled slowly, pushing the tension down.
"It won't be that bad," he said. "It's their first raid. their coordination's gonna be rough. We just need to nudge things at the right moment and take advantage when it counts."
Iris nodded slowly, a hint of excitement in her expression. "A real challenge… and a chance to see Vultari in action properly."
The guild interface pulsed softly, quiet in the hall, almost like it was waiting along with them.
Even without leaving the guild hall, the thought seemed to echo in their minds, if they snatched the boss now, their guild's name would be on everyone's lips, probably followed by a string of curses.
The idea alone made them grin.
***
The air was thick, damp and heavy with the smell of moss and stagnant water. Faint ripples disturbed the surface of the murky pools, reflecting only slivers of moonlight through the drifting mist.
Each step squelched against the mud, the terrain sluggish and uneven,
Nearly 60-70 groups, each boasting around thirty players, had claimed their spots around the heart of the swamp, forming loose perimeters marked by glowing banners.
But the real crowd wasn't just the raiders. Around them lingered dozens of curious eyes, solo players, small hunting squads and opportunists of every kind.
Some were there simply to watch the first major raid attempt since the expansion dropped.
Others were less honest, waiting for chaos to erupt so they could sneak in, steal the final hit or maybe loot the boss corpse amid the confusion. It was a slim chance, almost impossible but the kind of impossible that made everyone stay.
A quiet intensity hung over the marsh, heavy with anticipation and greed.
Every whisper of movement in the mist made people tighten their grips, scan their mini maps or glance suspiciously at nearby players.
The marsh was anything but quiet.
Everyone had the same goal: the Lurking Leviathan, a monstrous creature buried somewhere in the dark waters.
Its name wasn't for show; with an immense health pool and the ability to summon waves of minions, it was a nightmare to fight unprepared.
Tanks stood at the frontlines, weapons ready but eyes constantly darting sideways; mages at the mid ready to cast spell at moments notice, priests hovered behind, trying not to draw attention.
Shouts echoed through the mist, a chaotic blend of excitement and nerves that drowned out the marsh's usual threats and made its dangers feel distant.
No one trusted anyone. Every raid group stood on edge, pretending to focus on the boss's spawn point while keeping one eye on the parties beside them.
"Keep your line tight," someone yelled among the crowd, "They're edging too close."
Another voice snapped back from the mist, "Then tell your DPS to stop drifting into our pull zone."
A ripple of irritation ran through every groups.
Harsh words drifted across the swamp, low and deliberate, more warning than mockery. The air felt razor-thin, stretched between raids that refused to yield an inch.
They didn't want a fight but none of them would be the first to lower their weapons either.
Suddenly, a bright blue object arc'ed through the mist, spinning once before plunging straight into the heart of the swamp. A sudden snap shattered the silence, ice blooming outward in intricate veins over the murky water.
For a second, everything froze. The chatter, the footsteps, even the ambient glow of spells— gone.
Every player turned toward the center, wide-eyed.
"...Who the hell just pulled?" someone muttered.
No one answered.
Then the swamp moved.
The water bulged outward, mud churning like something enormous was shifting beneath it. A deep rumble rolled through the ground, shaking the reeds.
Bubbles burst one after another, releasing a foul, sulfurous stench, then a massive shape tore through the surface.
The Lurking Leviathan emerged, a serpentine behemoth of slick black scales and pale, lidless eyes that glowed faintly beneath the moonlight.
Moss and swampweed clung to its ridged body as it coiled, rising higher and higher until its shadow stretched over the raids below.
A system ping followed:
[Field Boss: Lurking Leviathan – Lv. 9]
HP: 1,560,000 / 1,560,000
The boss let out a guttural roar that rippled through the marsh, sending waves crashing into the front lines. Nearby players staggered, their formations breaking instantly. Before anyone could regroup, the Leviathan's tail lashed across the swamp like a whip—
–632!
–781!
Half a dozen frontliners were blown back, their health bars nosediving before anyone could even register what hit them.
The monster's scales rippled with wet, murky light, every movement sending droplets splattering off like shards of glass.
Mana coiled around its jawline, dark and viscous, before erupting in a blast of compressed sludge that tore through shields as if they were paper.
The impact wasn't just visual, the ground shook, the swamp rippled outward in concentric waves and the air filled with the sharp hiss of dissolving armor.
Those unlucky enough to take the hit directly were swallowed by the muck, their avatars flashing red before vanishing under the churning mire.
Healers scrambled to throw recovery spells but even the regen effects were slowed, the area itself felt tainted, saturated with whatever curse the boss carried.
The creature let out a guttural bellow, part roar-part gurgle, its throat glowing faintly blue-green as another surge of magic gathered for the next devastating strike.