"They've already broken through the beachhead!"

  The shout tore through the humid coastal air, raw with panic. The captain who delivered the message was trying to catch his breath, his armor stained with sand and dust. Behind him, soldiers were trying to fall into rank.

  They were the first line of defense.

  Tomoe didn't flinch from hearing the news. He stood atop the ridge, his eyes scanning the chaotic horizon where the sea met the burning sands.

  "How many men? How many ships?" he asked, his voice low, but the demand was cutting through the silence.

  The captain gulped, clutching the hilt of his blade to steady his trembling hands.

  "A hundred ships, sir, at least. There are over ten thousand soldiers making landfall." He started coughing.

  "And the defenses?"

  "Most of our forward regiments withdrew the moment the keels touched the sand. However, both the Seventh and the Thirteenth..." the captain choked on the words. "They were wiped out, sir. Trying to buy us time."

  Tomoe's brow furrowed slightly, the only sign of his surprise. "Even the Seventh?"

  This was bad news. Every regiment from the First to the Tenth had ten elite Samurai in their ranks. A Samurai of the Moon Empire was the symbol of absolute strength. They were indomitable heroes, with a minimum level of 100.

  To an ordinary player, a single level 100 Samurai was pretty much impossible to take down. To lose ten in mere minutes...

  "Yes, sir!" the captain said with a broken tone, his eyes still wide with the memory of the slaughter. "Additionally..."

  It was clear that the captain was uneasy about delivering the information to his higher-ups.

  "Speak," Tomoe said. His voice was calm, but it was unmistakably an order.

  "The Seventh has been dismantled by four Adventurers alone."

  "Is that so?"

  Tomoe shifted his stance, his hand resting on the tsuka of his katana. He was level 109. He stood at the forefront not just in the Moon Empire, but in the whole of Godsrealm as well. Ever since the beginning, he was at the precipice of greatness.

  Aside from the legendary Samurai Generals of the Empire and the terrifying Warlord Kai, leader of the Imperial Army, Tomoe was the Moon Empire's strongest asset.

  He believed he could best any player from either continent in a duel. But to wipe out a regiment of a hundred soldiers reinforced by ten Samurai? Even he couldn't achieve such a feat.

  "We cannot cede more ground without a price," he declared, pointing to three narrow passes on the map. "Set up the defense lines here, here, and here."

  His orders flew with practiced precision. He knew they couldn't hold out for long. He only had eight regiments left under his control.

  However, he also knew that reinforcements were coming. Warlord Kai was already leading the Imperial Army towards the western shores of the Empire. Five thousand royal troops and the Crimson Dragons -A hundred samurai of the highest caliber, each and every one of them almost an equal to Tomoe- were already on their way. General Ko and General Han were also on their way with 2,000 troops each.

  "The Fourth, Eleventh, and Seventeenth regiments will choke the first pass. The Sixth, Eighth, and Twelfth will fortify the center. My troops, along with the Fifth, will hold the line closest to the shore."

  He was Captain of the Third Regiment, the highest-ranking official on the field.

  The defenses were raised in record time, barricades of wood and stone erected to funnel the invaders, but it all looked futile when the enemy arrived.

  Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  It was a tide of steel. Ten thousand troops from the Kingdom of Dracia marched with the discipline of a machine.

  Among the soldiers, there were nearly a thousand adventurers -players- as well, their gear standing out against the uniforms of the Dracian army.

  Tomoe narrowed his eyes, searching for the aura of the commander. Intelligence reports stated that this army was led by Dracia's strongest champion: Royal Swordmaster Zeek.

  Zeek was a level 130, Tier 5 NPC. An entity on par with the Moon Empire's Four Generals.

  I cannot win that fight, Tomoe admitted internally. Warlord Kai or Imperial Swordmaster Shi Jin could be more than capable of triumphing over the Royal master-of-arms, but Tomoe knew he needed to reach level 120 and unlock his Tier 5 Samurai General class in order to have a chance.

  Engaging Zeek now would surely end in his demise. Still, I am the only one here who could tie up the Swordmaster's feet long enough.

  His strategy was simple: identify Zeek, engage him in a defensive duel, hold out as long as he could, and pray reinforcements arrived before his troops were wiped out. He scanned the front line looking for the enemy commander.

  But Zeek was nowhere to be seen.

  Instead, the vanguard was led by a player.

  She was striking; a vision of lethal grace amidst the grime of war.

  She was tall, with alabaster skin and long, straight silver hair that cascaded behind her ears like a shimmering waterfall. She wore heavy, articulate silver plate armor that reflected the sunlight, and a grey cape that billowed in the sea breeze.

  In her left hand, she held a spear; long, sleek, humming with incredible power.

  A player? A confident smirk tugged at the corner of Tomoe's mouth.

  There was a massive difference between even the top-tier players and the strongest NPCs. Some of Godsrealm's natives could very likely move the continents themselves if they needed to.

  However, if the enemy commander was a player, the equation had just changed in his favor. There wasn't a single player in Godsrealm that he feared.

  "Hold your ground!" Tomoe roared, his voice amplifying over the battlefield.

  The silver-haired woman spotted him instantly. She didn't shout orders. She simply moved.

  She broke from the ranks, a silver comet streaking toward the command post. She intended to behead the snake.

  Tomoe wanted to do the same. He drew his blade, the steel singing as it left the sheath. Let her come.

  The distance closed in a heartbeat. As his katana met her spear, the air pressure between them dropped.

  Clang!

  The impact sent a shockwave through the battlefield, kicking up a circle of dust in a twenty-meter diameter. In that fraction of a second, as steel bit into steel, their eyes met, and the same chilling realization struck both of them simultaneously.

  My victory...

  ...isn't certain.

  The woman's name was Thorn.

  She was level 112. She was higher than anyone on the public ranking. She was an ordinary Spear Knight, a Tier 2 class evolved from the basic Spearfighter class.

  But she also had a hidden, secondary class: she was Graal's Avenger. A class based on a legend.

  She was powerful. She believed she was the best spearwielder in all of Godsrealm; she had beaten the lancer prodigy Keith before. She was named the Spear Sovereign by none other than the King of Dracia himself.

  Yet now, against this Samurai, she felt a resistance she hadn't felt in a long time.

  They clashed again - four times in the span of a single breath.

  To the soldiers watching, they were blurs of motion. Sparks cascaded like fireworks. The surrounding troops, both Dracian and Imperial, instinctively backed away, forming a terrifying dead zone around the duelists.

  For them to step inside was equal to suicide.

  "So you are Tomoe, huh?" Thorn smirked, her voice calm despite the ferocity of their exchange. "He was right, after all."

  "Who was?" Tomoe parried a thrust that aimed for his throat, his eyes darting, looking for a moment of weakness in her defense.

  "A man," she said, spinning the spear overhead to build momentum. "A man I thought was the absolute apex of the players in Godsrealm."

  "I don't know what you're talking about," the young Samurai stated coldly.

  His body glowed with a crimson aura.

  Crouching Tiger Strike!

  He lunged, a strike designed to annihilate his opponent.

  Thorn didn't retreat. Her spear tip began to glow with white light.

  Precise Spear!

  The attacks collided, negating each other in a burst of energy that cracked the earth beneath their boots.

  Despite his denial, a cold sweat pricked the back of Tomoe's neck. He did have an idea.

  There was only one person who fit that description. A player he had met only once, briefly.

  A monster whose sheer presence radiated a pressure strong enough that even the memory made him tremble.

  A man who truly was standing on the top, alone.