The raid loot system had been one of the biggest discussion points since the feature dropped, simple in design but controversial in practice.
A single player could now assemble a squad of up to thirty members, with one leader and a sub-leader sharing command.
Together, they could issue synchronized calls for both PvP/ PvE.
When forming a raid, the leader had to choose between two distinct modes of loot distribution:
Leader-Claim Mode – All drops from a defeated boss or mini-boss would automatically go to the raid leader's inventory. From there, it was up to them to divide, sell or hoard the spoils as they saw fit.
It was efficient, especially for organized guilds that trusted their captains but in public raids, it would lead to betrayal clips and forum drama.
Random Distribution Mode – Every item that dropped would be randomly assigned to one of the thirty raid members, regardless of their role, damage dealt or contribution.
It was completely luck-based and sometimes brutally unfair but it also kept things democratic.
Even a troll could walk away with a legendary item if fortune smiled their way.
Naturally, most groups in the swamp went with random distribution. Trust was a rare commodity among strangers and with so many mixed raids formed at the last minute, no one wanted to risk all the loot funneled into one player's bag.
Hence, there were countless raids gathered across the swamp, some hastily thrown together from random players, others composed of well-organized guild members who had come fully expecting a clean takedown.
Nearly a thousand players filled the area. But none of them were ready. Not yet.
The plan had been to wait... to observe, to strategize, to let the frontrunners test the boss's mechanics first, let other take losses then try the boss themselves.
Now, with the hornet's nest stirred and the boss tearing through the crowd, all that theory meant nothing. The raids that had been so careful about loot settings were now scrambling just to survive.
The thought of who would get what was drowned out by the roar of the creature and the panicked cries of players watching their screens flash red.
The boss didn't discriminate, it lashed out at anything that moved. Bolts of dark energy and torrents of sludge crashed across the field, wiping out entire subgroups in seconds.
What had been a thousands confident players seconds ago was now a storm of panic and retreat, the line between ally and enemy blurring in the mud and madness.
The boss followed up with a volley of pressurized sludge orbs, each bursting on contact and splattering debuff zones across the ground.
Players scrambled out of the glowing patches, learning fast that standing still meant slow death.
Its special move, however, was far less forgiving, a sudden dive beneath the swamp's surface before it reappeared directly under a random target, unleashing Hydro Burst, a concentrated explosion of magic-charged water.
–1,243! Critical!
The targeted player vanished instantly, replaced by a burst of steam and a floating respawn icon.
But the disorder didn't last long.
Once the initial shock faded, the players snapped back into formation. The field filled with commands, "Defenders go tank the boss! "Healers, focus heal on tank!" "Focus fire, focus fire!"
Spell circles ignited. Swords clanged against its thick skin. Dozens of DPS unleashed everything they had — Piercing Arrows, Meteor Bolts, Burst Shots and Frost Blades rained down like a storm.
Damage numbers filled the screen in rapid succession:
–331! –212! –304! –371!
The swamp lit up with the combined force of over a thousand semi-coordinated players, their attacks hammering against the Leviathan's thick scales.
The creature's HP bar, which had seemed immovable moments ago, finally began to dip, a sliver at first but enough to spark renewed determination across every raid.
The boss reeled under the assault, letting out a guttural roar that sent ripples through the air. Chunks of its scales cracked and fell away, glowing faintly before dissolving into the muck. Its health finally lost a chunk.
Cheers erupted across several groups; brief, premature and quickly silenced.
Without warning, the Leviathan lurched backward and sank beneath the swamp. The surface rippled once… twice, then went still. A heavy silence settled, broken only by the sound of players calling out in confusion.
"Where did it—"
The rest of the sentence was cut short when the water exploded. The creature burst from below, smashing straight through the center of a raid formation.
–678! –742! –801! –829!
A sudden wave of destruction tore through the marsh, avatars exploding into shards of light. They were wiped in an instant, their avatars flung across the marsh as glowing fragments.
Healers scrambled to throw resurrections but before they could stabilize, the Leviathan opened its jaws wide, water mana surged and spiraled at its core before detonating outward.
[Skill: Abyssal Surge]
A vortex of pressurized water erupted, dragging players inward before tossing them out like ragdolls.
–1,184! Critical!
–597!
Entire groups were obliterated; defensive buffs shattered under the onslaught. The ground itself began to bubble as if boiling from beneath.
Then, from the churning depths, smaller shapes began to emerge — eel-like creatures with translucent fins and glowing red eyes.
[Lurking Leviathan has summoned its minions – "Swamp Eels" Lv.7]
Dozens of them slithered out, darting toward the weakened raids, nipping at casters and interrupting channeling spells.
The once organized battlefield turned into pandemonium again, with guilds screaming for crowd control and tanks desperately asking for heals.
[Lurking Leviathan – HP : 1,120,000 / 1,560,000]
The battlefield had descended into utter havoc, yet, strangely, a rhythm had begun to form within it.
No one had called it out. No one had planned it. But among the thousand-odd players, a kind of tacit understanding took root.
They all knew what this was: a field boss fight, not a dungeon raid. No guild owned the pull, no leader held the right to claim the boss.
Everyone there had the same thought: survive, chip away at its HP and when the time comes — fight for the last hit.
Meanwhile, the boss reared back, its massive body arching high above the swamp as its scales pulsed faintly, It bellowed, while its summoned Swamp Eels weaved through the raider's formation.
The creatures were not strong individually but their sheer numbers were enough to disrupt every formation.
Tanks slammed their shields into the mud, holding back waves of eels. Mages and archers unleashed area spells: Flame Bursts, Arcane Storms, Poison Arrows, burning through clusters of minions.
The air shimmered with overlapping effects, every spell lighting the murky water in bursts of orange, violet and green.
All the while, the Leviathan itself never stopped attacking. It smashed its tail across the shallows, sending sprays of mud skyward.
–589! –634! –711!
The damage was heavy. Every healer alive was on overdrive, keeping the frontline barely standing. Between bursts of healing light, players snuck in attacks on the boss whenever its focus shifted elsewhere.
An assassins darted between the eel mobs and landed a Backstab on the Leviathan's scales that were damaged.
A few ranged DPS fired coordinated volleys whenever the creature raised its head. Bit by bit, its health bar kept falling.
[Lurking Leviathan – HP: 860,000 / 1,560,000]
Despite the turmoil, there was no fighting between raids yet.
The Lurking Leviathan's roars grew heavier, deeper, no longer sounds of rage but something older, primal. The swamp itself began to change in response.
Ripples spread outward from the beast's body, distorting reflections on the water's surface.
The once-stagnant marsh started to rise, inch by inch, until the solid ground beneath players feet turned into waist-deep sludge.
[Warning: The Lurking Leviathan has entered its Enraged State.]
Its eyes flared a iridescent blue and the faint glow beneath its scales intensified, like magma flowing under glass.
Every motion now carried raw power, its tail strikes sent water waves crashing across entire raids and each swing carved trails through the swamp like miniature whirlpools.
–622! –713! –804! –819!
Players were swept up and tossed aside, their avatars tumbling helplessly through the muddy current. Still, no one stopped attacking. Even while half their skills missed due to reduced accuracy, they kept firing, hacking and channeling.
Lightning bolts cracked down from the sky, connecting through the flooded terrain and shocking clusters of minions.
Fire mages cursed as their spells lost effectiveness, switching to other elemental magic to deal damage instead.
The Leviathan dived again, disappearing into the black depths with a roar. Bubbles erupted across the surface, too many to track.
Then it surged up from the far side, crashing down with enough force to send waves sweeping through the entire field.
[Abyssal Roar] – Area Effect!
–789! –812! –854!
Already, seven out of ten of the raid's health bars hovered dangerously low. The healer's mana could not keep up with the boss's onslaught and even with potions, they were running dangerously low. Minions swarmed over downed players, finishing them off.
Still, everyone persisted. Nobody risked pulling aggro, they hit when they could, backed off when they had to and let the chaos play it out.
The unspoken agreement remained unbroken: whittle it down, then strike for the finish. Through all the madness, the boss's massive health bar continued to shrink, one attack at a time.
[Lurking Leviathan – HP: 310,000 / 1,560,000]
The water around it whirled now, charged with residual mana, a sign that the next phase was close. The true fight was about to begin.
[Warning: Final Phase Initiated.]
[Lurking Leviathan – HP: 190,000 / 1,560,000]
The beast let out a guttural roar, so deep that the sound seemed to echo through the player's chests.
Its scales flared with a violent, pulsing glow, veins of blue and black light racing along its massive body. The entire swamp responded, the once-still water now churned like a whirlpool.
Then it sank.
Not the sudden ambush dive from before — this time, it dragged the swamp with it. A massive vortex formed in the center, sucking mud, debris and unfortunate players straight into the abyss.
[Skill: Abyssal Drag]
–918! –1,027! –1,181!
Cries filled the area as players fought to escape the pull, spamming movement skills and grappling onto anything solid; broken trees, boulders, even other players.
Those who failed vanished under the swirling water, their names flashing gray as they were dragged below.
A few seconds later, massive bubbles burst across the swamp. From them emerged new monsters, smaller versions of the Leviathan but leaner and faster, glowing with the same faint blue light.
[Elite Minions: Abyssal Spawn – Lv.8]
They moved like liquid, darting through the flooded terrain, targeting healers and ranged attackers first. Their attacks weren't devastating but their disruption was deadly.
Every raid shifted gears. The battlefield lit up again, arrows, blades and explosions raining down on both boss and minions.
Mages who were running low on mana resorted to using their staff and wands to chip away at the spawned monsters, doing whatever they could to stay alive.
Meanwhile, the melee fighters carved through the creature's ranks, taking as much of the damage as possible to keep their healers safe.
And then, just as the last few minions fell, the swamp trembled again.
The Leviathan burst back out of the vortex, water cascading off its body like a tidal wave. Its jaw unhinged and magic condensed between its teeth, not blue this time but crimson, burning with unstable mana.
[Skill: Depth Requiem – Charging… 17%]
"Don't let it finish!"
The ground pulsed red. The air vibrated with rising energy. Every raid leader shouted the same thing almost at once —
"ALL OUT! BURST NOW!"
The swamp lit up once again with everything the players had left, offensive skills, buffs skills, equipment effects, every ounce of firepower unleashed... the battlefield erupted in searing color.
The boss's HP bar plunged as hundreds of attacks landed one after another.
–212! –234! –291! –317! –234! –208!
[Lurking Leviathan – HP: 52,000 / 1,560,000]
The beast screamed — Its ultimate was still charging but now its massive frame began to tremble, scales breaking apart under the barrage.
Each player knew it was almost over and that meant only one thing: tension rising as every raid prepared to scramble for the last hit.
And if you didn't get the last hit?
Well… nothing stopped you from going after the poor soul who did.
The latest patch didn't help either.
A new "fun-enhancement feature," as the devs called it:
[Last Hit Carrier: Any player who gets the equipment drop will drop it on death with a 100% chance. Duration: 60 minutes.]
In other words— free loot if you kill the killer.
Everyone knew what that meant. If you landed the final blow, you had to run. Hard.
Unless you wanted to be turned into a magical pincushion by a hundred desperate players.
Everyone was looking forward to the moment the Leviathan fell.
The water boiled around it, waves rising higher than trees. The system struggled to keep up, damage numbers flickering like static. The HP bar fell rapidly —
[HP: 46,000 / 1,560,000]
[HP: 22,000 / 1,560,000]
Then—
All their attacks hit at once.
–289! –304! –378! –311! –1,630! –1,530!
–3,130! Critical!–3,330!
The Leviathan shuddered, its final roar tearing through the air before its massive body crashed back into the swamp, the impact rolling a final surge across the field.
[Field Boss Defeated: Lurking Leviathan – Lv. 9]
[HP: 0 / 1,560,000]
For a heartbeat, there was silence. Then the system notifications exploded across global announcement.
Everyone froze, staring at their screens as the swamp's glow faded. Water rippled gently where the boss had fallen and the red mist slowly cleared, revealing scattered players.
Hundreds of players held their breath, all waiting for the notification that would reveal who claimed the final strike.