As the players dispersed in all directions, eager to tackle their assigned tasks, Victor remained at the podium, observing the organized chaos with a faint smile. Suddenly, his Master Shadowlink Mark pulsed, signaling the imminent completion of a mission he had personally issued.

  “Sir Astralium!” someone called out.

  Victor turned to see a small group of players approaching. “What is it?” he asked.

  He was unfamiliar with this particular group. With the player base nearing a thousand, it had become increasingly difficult to remember everyone—especially the life-skills players who, apart from a select few, rarely took center stage.

  “A group of outsiders has arrived at the village,” one player reported. “They claim to have been sent by you, and one of them, who looks like a butler, is insisting on meeting you personally. We thought it might be important, so we brought him here as instructed.”

  Despite the excitement surrounding the expansion, a few dozen players, who weren’t particularly interested in the war, stayed in the village. They preferred slower gameplay over the combat-heavy game content. This was understandable, though, as players were diverse in nature, with each individual pursuing their unique interests and playstyles. And Victor didn’t mind it either since he needed some players to watch over the village.

  Victor’s eyes flickered with recognition. That must be Brown.

  “Good work,” he replied. “Bring him to my office, then.”

  Victor dismissed the players as soon as Brown was escorted into his office. Of course, he didn’t forget to reward their efforts with none other than merit points.

  Now standing before him with a servile attitude was a white-haired, groovy butler. Clad in a distinguished but weather-worn suit, the man’s sharp eyes and composed demeanor immediately marked him as someone far beyond the rank of an ordinary servant. Furthermore, his presence exuded an air of discipline and an unshakable formality, while his calm yet precise gaze fixed upon Victor with unwavering focus.

  “Sir Magus,” the man said, bowing deeply. “We meet again.”

  Victor nodded. “Mm, I know why you’re here. Liz,” he called out, flicking his fingers.

  The door burst open almost instantly as Lizbeth entered with Lillie following closely behind. The moment Lillie’s eye met Brown’s, she froze—her gaze locking onto him as if caught in a spell. Her heterochromatic eyes reflected a storm of emotions—surprise, recognition, and, most of all, joy—all in an instant.

  “Butler Brown!” she exclaimed, bouncing on her feet.

  Brown barely had time to react before Lillie threw herself into his arms. “You found Lillie!” she cried, her voice brimming with joy.

  “Little miss…” Brown said softly, gently patting her head. “I must apologize for my failure to protect you. Are you unharmed?”

  Lillie looked up with her pure, innocent eyes and nodded. “Lillie is fine. Mentor Victor has been teaching Lillie so much! But Lillie missed you, Butler Brown. Please don’t apologize—you’ve always done so much for Lillie.”

  A subtle warmth softened Brown’s typically composed expression. For the briefest moment, a faint smile graced his face. “I’m relieved to hear that, little miss. Truly, I am.”

  Victor stood a few steps away, quietly observing the reunion; he had no intention of cutting their heartwarming scene short.

  “This is quite the touching scene, isn’t it?” Lizbeth quipped as she gracefully perched on Victor’s shoulder.

  Victor offered no response, his expression neutral as he waited patiently.

  Soon, Brown composed himself. He gently released Lillie’s hug but kept a protective hand on her shoulder as he turned to Victor and bowed deeply. “Sir Astralium, I owe you an unpayable debt for saving and safeguarding Lady Lillie.”

  Victor waved his hand dismissively. “I have taken her as my apprentice. As my student, her protection and growth are my responsibility. That goes without saying. However, with your arrival, we must now discuss what lies ahead.”

  “Indeed.” Brown straightened, his tone steady and resolute. “Then allow me to offer you my blade, to act as your sword in ensuring her safety, no matter the cost.”

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Victor nodded. With Brown’s pledge, he had gained not only someone capable of managing minor tasks but also a steadfast guardian for one of the academy’s brightest lights. Of course, he did not take for granted that this would immediately earn Brown’s loyalty—that had to be built up over time.

  “So be it then.” Victor turned toward the window. “From now on, you will be working here, in the Sanctum of Interdimensional Magi. Don’t let me down, Brown.”

  Atop a rocky hill, Sean observed the dark expanse in the far distance through the eyes of spectral puppets thanks to the spell {Demonic Eye}. His party members stood nearby, tense at the sight of the undead horde marching closer.

  “They’re getting closer…” Sean muttered grimly. What lay before him was nothing short of a nightmare—a sea of shambling figures stretching endlessly across the land. Hollow eyes burned faintly under the sun, and skeletal forms moved in eerie, relentless unison.

  “How many?” asked Butterfly—a tall, red-skinned female player.

  “Thousands…” Sean began, swallowing hard. “No, maybe tens of thousands. They’re closing in fast, heading straight for the traps other players are setting up.”

  Beside him, Chicken interrupted, “We need to warn them! The traps can only take out so many, and they may not be aware of this.”

  “Hold on,” Sean snapped, holding up a hand. “I’m not finished.” He exhaled deeply, steadying himself. “The horde is being led by… something big. A massive undead knight. Just looking at it gives me chills. That thing has to be the boss monster. Probably as strong or even stronger than the headmaster.”

  Having inherited the legacy of the dark Magus in the pocket dimension, he could easily gauge extraordinary life forms in this game. He was more than sure that the commander of the undead horde could fight toe-to-toe with their strongest NPC—the headmaster!

  Everyone was flabbergasted by this news, exchanging uneasy glances.

  Patrick then broke the silence. “If that’s the case, we don’t have time to hesitate. We need to act now.”

  Sean nodded firmly and turned to the rest of his party. “Let’s get moving. But keep your guard up. If even a few stragglers break off, we’re going to have a fight on our hands before we get back. In the meantime, I’ll also send a message to the group setting the traps.”

  Without another word, the group sprang into action. The fate of the academy rested in their hands.

  Closer toward the western side of the academy, Jacky, also known as Thunder, stood atop a small ridge, his sharp eyes scanning the flurry of activity below. Around fifty players worked tirelessly, laying traps in carefully designated areas. They moved with the urgency of soldiers preparing for battle, guided by Jacky’s precise instructions.

  He allowed himself a small, satisfied grin. Good. Everything’s coming together. The scene had stirred a flicker of déjà vu, a reminder of the days when he first started his construction and furniture companies more than twenty years ago on Earth. The sense of command, the reliance on teamwork, and the need for precision all felt comfortably familiar.

  Shaking off the nostalgic thought, Jacky refocused. He wasn’t one to leave anything to chance. Slowing the undead horde wasn’t enough; he wanted to annihilate them before they could even come within sight of the academy.

  Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved a bundle of silvery, glimmering threads—the very silk secreted by Lesser Hiveborne Arachnids. These strings appeared fragile yet were strong enough to withstand incredible force. Their razor-sharp edges could cut through flesh, bone, and even full-plate armor with ease. Jacky smirked to himself. Not even military-grade steel wires back on Earth could compare.

  As he squeezed the threads in his hand, he felt a rush of grim satisfaction. The traps he had orchestrated were nothing short of masterful—and they were exactly what was needed to confront the relentless advance of the undead. Just then, he received a message from the scouting party, informing him that the undead horde was closing in on his position.

  Subsequently, Jacky stepped down the ridge and approached the bustling group of players. “Listen up!” he shouted, drawing their attention. “I just got word—the undead are here!” He raised the shimmering coils of silk for emphasis. “Our traps hinge entirely on these. Make sure every line is set with perfect tension. Too loose, and they’re useless. Too tight, and they’ll snap before doing any damage.”

  The players nodded and got focused. They trusted in Jacky’s expertise when it came to trap design and contraptions. Every detail in this field of death was his creation.

  As the team moved swiftly to finalize the preparations, Jacky crouched and began inscribing small magic-trigger runes along the hidden silk lines. These runes would ensure that the traps activated precisely when the undead pressed forward in force—a technique he had learned from studying the magic knowledge available from the virtual shop. Jacky couldn’t help but admire how deeply the game’s mechanics rewarded those willing to delve into its hidden depths.

  Soon enough, the area was completely transformed into a deadly web of silk traps, hidden beneath leaves and loose soil. From Jacky’s perspective, it looked unassuming, but he knew that it was a death zone waiting to spring into action.

  He took a step back and surveyed the results. A part of him wished he could see the faces of the undead when the first wave hit this trap field, not that they would have any expression whatsoever. Another part, however, was grimly aware that this might not be enough to stop the enemy’s advance.

  Turning to his team, he gave a sharp nod. “Good work, everyone. Fall back to the next line of defense. I’ll stay here and oversee this section personally before joining you.”

  The players murmured their assent and began withdrawing. However, Jacky remained rooted to the spot for one reason: there was a small but significant flaw in his plan. The silk threads, while immensely strong and razor-sharp, were vulnerable to fire. Moreover, with another group led by Aphrodite laying their own traps nearby, the risk of fire spreading was real. Notably, Aphrodite’s group was going to use new kinds of explosions and even newly developed magic cannons!

  “Then, I’ll stay with you,” Locktekei offered, stepping forward.

  Jacky gave him a brief nod, his grin returning. “Fine by me. Let’s see how many of those undead bastards can make it past my traps!”

  Perhaps in this game, he was the only one who most sincerely hoped that the academy would prevail. After all, it was no longer just a game for him but a new reality.