Felix's battle had a far greater impact than anyone anticipated.
The operators at Tomorrow's Development Headquarters were stunned and overjoyed to witness their leader's overwhelming strength. Compared to their excitement, the Sarkaz from Kazdel reacted with solemn reverence, addressing him only as "Your Highness." In their eyes, there was nothing but worship. As their king, he had faced the God of War who had walked Terra for thousands of years and had not fallen behind. If anything, he had emerged victorious.
The King of Nachzehrers had lived for a millennium and could only force a stalemate. If His Highness had possessed a thousand years of experience, would he not have shattered Terra with a single blow?
The players of Tomorrow's Development were equally awestruck. The young man who had once sold weapons and skill books in version 1.0 now displayed unmatched power in the mid-to-late stages of version 3.0. The transformation left them completely convinced. Even players who had not joined Tomorrow's Development felt a twinge of fear and regret.
The battle footage surpassed one hundred million views within thirty minutes. In the video, Felix fought with the phantom Ifrit looming behind him, and the spectacle stirred every player who watched it.
More perceptive players had already realized that this King of Dawn was the designated protagonist of Arknights (Ark). Who had ever seen an NPC like this? An NPC who handed out benefits in version 1.0, then in version 3.0 could stand toe-to-toe with a thousand-year immortal?
Surprisingly, no one criticized the developers. No one complained that this development was unreasonable.
Because Tomorrow's Development treated its players well. Equipment, weapons, skill books, even hidden techniques—as long as one had merit points and loyalty, they could be exchanged. Command authority in previous battles was ranked according to loyalty level. Compared to the stinginess and suspicion of other factions, Tomorrow's Development truly felt like home.
___
Felix slept deeply. When he awoke, the debuff beside his health bar had disappeared, and his mana was nearly restored. He glanced at the figure sleeping beside him. A faint, unreadable smile touched his lips as he shook his head. Quietly, he pulled the blanket over Qalaiša before leaving the room.
He soon learned the consequences of the battle.
Meanwhile the journey to Londinium proceeded without incident. Aside from a few oblivious noble fleets conducting distant reconnaissance, there were no obstructions. Reports confirmed that the Military Commission's camp had been completely abandoned. Not even a feather remained.
The players, who depended on merit points, were left frustrated.
If everyone had fled, where were they supposed to earn their rewards?
___
Londinium was close.
In the chaotic capital, where countless forces were entangled, the Sarkaz aligned with the Military Commission were visibly uneasy. Some had returned from the front lines and learned that the King of Nachzehrers had failed to defeat Felix. Concern spread across their faces.
Their greatest pillar of support was the royal court. Even the Nachzehrers King, the so-called God of War, could not prevail. Who else could they rely on? That madman, the Vampire Lord?
Compared to the soaring morale of Tomorrow's Development, the Military Commission now felt hollow and strained.
At the royal court meeting, the King of Nachzehrers's silence unsettled the others.
"King of Nachzehrers, did you hold back?" the Vampire Lord asked slowly. "He may have reclaimed our bloodline in a short time, but he is still nothing more than a monkey. It is impossible for him to master such power so quickly. You have grown weaker."
"Could you feel the power of the Teekaz?" asked the Damazti, a cluster of figures with long green hair, their tone curious rather than mocking.
The King of Nachzehrers nodded. "A familiar scent of flame."
"The power of the Diablo. How we have missed it," the Damazti murmured. "The faint aura we sensed in Columbia has been replaced. What remains now is pure Diablo blood."
"Unclean elements have infiltrated the city. Would anyone object if I continued cleansing them?" The Vampire Lord interrupted again, a refined smile resting on his lips. "The stench here is unbearable. It makes me want to slaughter everything."
Theresis nodded. "The Self-Salvation Army is yours to handle. Reliable intelligence from the front confirms that the last Aslan bloodline has returned to Londinium and is searching for the tokens of the Victorian royal family."
"Heh."
The Vampire Lord rose, pushing his chair back into place. "I will taste the blood of that Teekaz for you."
Understanding this as agreement, Theresis shifted his attention elsewhere.
"King of Nachzehrers, the Nachzehrers Legion will confront the Duke of Wellington's fleet directly. Prepare accordingly."
"Understood."
"Manfred, the Victoria City Guard can no longer be trusted. If you take over their duties, you must stop the Duke of Wellington's Marine Corps outside Londinium."
"Yes!" Manfred paused, then lowered his head. "General, what if they are the adventurers from Tomorrow's Development?"
At his words, an awkward silence fell over the room.
Manfred sighed inwardly. If, a few years ago, he had realized how powerful those adventurers would become, he would have seized the chance during the civil war to recruit some of them into the Military Commission.
Regret was meaningless now. They had recognized their mistake far too late. Just as they had begun to believe they truly controlled Londinium and the Shard Tower, reality struck them hard. As a general of the Military Commission, Manfred had watched helplessly as Kazdel's stronghold was breached again and again by Tomorrow's Development. At the time, he had consoled himself, telling himself that the adventurers were only moderately strong, that the true threat lay in Tomorrow's Development own accumulated power.
Now…
He recalled the scene from a few days ago, when adventurers tore through two dukes' fleets and their garrisons like wolves among sheep. His lips twitched. Unlike those fearless adventurers, his soldiers had survived years of brutal warfare. If they were to fall to reckless suicide assaults, the loss would be unbearable.
"Considering that Tomorrow's Development primary enemy is us, Manfred, you will hand over control of the main gate to the Victoria City Guard," General Theresis said, changing his tone. "I suspect they also intends to strike at the Duke of Wellington. The Duchy of Windermere in the north has been restless, and New Tara is rising."
Manfred bowed deeply and withdrew at once.
The others soon departed as well, leaving only the Confessarius Qui'sartuštaj standing in the shadows.
A faint smile curved his lips. "General, I can vaguely sense the aura of the Sarkaz King."
"From Theresa, or from Felix?"
"Neither."
Qui'sartuštaj spoke softly. "It seems there was a third party present on the day Her Highness passed away. It is approaching."
Theresis gave a brief hum, showing little interest, and turned away to marshal his forces.
He knew that after years of war, the Military Commission had long since lost sight of its original purpose. Aside from a handful of members, most had forgotten what Kazdel once was meant to be. Intrigue and self-interest now dominated their ranks.
Theresis understood this and had no intention of changing it. His only goal was to complete the Shard's weapon and then meet that person.
Meanwhile, with an elegant smile, the Vampire Lord stepped into the Self-Salvation Army's stronghold.
Blood pooled at his feet. With a slight flick of his hand, the fleeing members were instantly drained dry, their blood drawn from their bodies in a single motion.
He licked his lips and frowned. "Even inferior blood smells foul. Hard to swallow."
"I wonder what pure Teekaz blood tastes like. Is it still so bright and red? Hehehe…"
Walking through the spreading pool, the Vampire Lord, Duq'arael, advanced deeper inside.
"There's only one person on the other side!"
"It's the Vampire! Run!"
"Head for the back door!"
The camp dissolved into chaos, shouts and curses erupting from every direction.
It was not that no one dared to stand against Duq'arael. But those who did were defeated in less than a single exchange.
Their blood was torn from their bodies and reshaped into weapons in his hands.
From a hidden corner, Stainless watched the slaughter unfold, bitterness etched across his face. He was powerless to stop it.
His mechanical unit had charged forward in an attempt to halt the Vampire Lord, only to be corroded by the crimson river swirling around Duq'arael. Within moments, it collapsed in ruin.
Seeing his comrades throw themselves forward to buy time, Stainless seized Rockrock, still frozen in shock, and dragged her along with several other members toward the exit.
An enemy like this could not be defeated. Survival meant retreat. They would have to abandon the stronghold completely and never look back.
Stainless had no idea why the Vampire Lord had suddenly appeared here. As he fled, he discreetly transmitted the information to Tomorrow's Development operators within the city, praying they would not cross paths with Duq'arael.
Beneath the unfathomable factory, Vina followed Allerdale down the rusted stairs, descending step by step into the deepest depths below. As they went farther, she began to feel an odd sense of familiarity in the surrounding pipes and terrain, as though she had once been here before. Yet she knew clearly that she had spent the first half of her life on the surface of Londinium. Since the Sighs of Kings was lost, she had never seen it again.
"So only those with Aslan blood can draw this weapon?" Neon asked curiously.
Vina shook her head. "I've never touched the Sighs of Kings myself… but I'll try."
"Truly ancient weapons choose their masters," Hellagur said calmly. "Like Your Highness's longsword, Ravage. Anyone else who wields it is consumed by flames and suffers unbearable pain. Only in Your Highness's hands does it remain still."
"Hey, that reminds me of a Sarkaz sister who just joined the action team. She's always eating ice cream, and her weapon's pretty strange too," Neon said, her eyes wandering.
As they spoke, the group reached the bottom.
The vast hall before them was lined on both sides with statues of past Victorian kings. Some held longswords, others bore different weapons planted firmly into the ground, as though they were guarding this place and the nation itself.
At the end of the path stood a massive door made of some unknown material.
Allerdale nodded. "If the records are accurate, the Sighs of Kings lies dormant behind this door."
Vina took a deep breath and stepped forward, pressing both hands against the door and pushing with all her strength. It did not budge. One by one, more operators stepped forward to help. With a heavy, grinding screech, the door slowly began to open. A beam of light pierced the darkness beyond.
Inside, the hall remained shrouded in shadow. The operators' drones provided illumination as they rose steadily upward. From beneath the throne at the far end of the chamber came the hiss of steam venting into the air.
A pair of yellow eyes flickered to life.
"Victoria…"
The hoarse voice carried a sorrow so deep it was almost unbearable. Then the sadness was drowned out by the roar of steam engines awakening.
Bang.
Heavy footsteps.
Puff.
Steam burst violently from vents.
Crack.
The grating sound of a longsword being dragged from the ground.
Allerdale's face turned deathly pale. Her eyes narrowed, and her voice trembled. "Th-this is… a Steam Knight?"
"Victoria!"
The answer was a thunderous battle cry as a massive sword came crashing down.
Puff!
At the critical moment, Hellagur reacted first, pulling the stunned Allerdale aside. The blade slammed deep into the ground, and the entire hall trembled.
"Victoria!"
"This… what is this?" Neon's hand shook so badly she nearly dropped her sword. Facing the towering steel giant before her, her voice came out hoarse. "What is that?!"
"It's a Victorian Steam Knight," Allerdale said faintly. "I thought they had long since vanished. It seems one survived."
Vina exhaled slowly and raised her weapon.
"Siege, are you going to fight it?" someone asked.
"He was a warrior of Victoria, who fought for Victoria until his last breath."
Vina steadied herself. "As a descendant of Aslan, I will surpass him… and draw the sword from the throne behind him."
She tightened her grip. "Can you help me?"
"Is that even a question?"
Indra cracked his knuckles, while Hellagur silently unsheathed his longsword.
"Thank you," Vina said softly.
Then she charged toward the last Steam Knight.
"Victoria!"