The system announcement spread like wildfire, a single notification flashing across every player's screen.
[New Guild Established: The Chosen. Guild Leader: Mars.]
The silence that followed in Greythorn Village was almost suffocating. Players glanced at each other, some murmuring in curiosity, others frowning in irritation. The casual adventurers barely registered the event, but those with ambition? They understood what this meant. A new contender had entered the stage.
Alycia watched Mars from the sidelines, her arms crossed as she smirked. "Well," she mused, "you sure don't do things quietly."
Mars stood at the village center, unfazed by the growing attention. Whispers surrounded him—players speculating, calculating. Some looked at him with curiosity, others with caution. A handful had already pulled up his profile, searching for anything that might give them insight into this new competitor.
He didn't acknowledge them. His focus was already on the next step.
Near the Greythorn Trading Post, a group of players stood huddled, discussing the announcement. One, a burly warrior with a gold-trimmed tabard, scowled as he turned to his companion. "You see this?" he muttered. "Some nobody's forming a guild. Like we need another one."
His companion, a slender rogue with daggers strapped to his belt, narrowed his eyes. "Monolith won't like this."
The warrior snorted. "Of course not. Cyberdyne's investing in them for a reason—to control this game. They don't need a wildcard screwing things up."
The rogue nodded, tapping at his interface. "Marcus Vale needs to hear about this."
…Meanwhile in the back room of the inn, Mars leaned over the table, his crimson eyes fixed on the map Alycia had spread across the wooden surface. The flickering lantern cast shifting shadows over the parchment, highlighting the various regions of the continent. Greythorn Village was their starting point, but if The Chosen was to survive, they needed more than just a name and a handful of members. They needed a stronghold.
Alycia tapped her fingers against the edge of the table, watching Mars in quiet amusement. "I can practically hear the gears turning in your head. So, what's the plan?"
Mars traced a finger along the map, stopping at the northernmost region. "Morrath Castle," he said, his voice firm.
Alycia raised an eyebrow. "Morrath? The abandoned stronghold? Pretty sure that place is crawling with demons and whatever else the game devs thought was funny to throw in."
Mars smirked, keeping his expression neutral. "Exactly. It's a server-level housing event—a contested raid zone that no one's claimed yet. No guild has successfully taken it."
Alycia leaned forward, intrigued. "You're telling me that in all the time since launch, nobody's even attempted to claim it?"
Mars shook his head. "They've tried. They've failed. Morrath Castle isn't just some standard dungeon—it's an evolving fortress. The longer it remains unclaimed, the more powerful its defenses become. It doesn't just have demons. It has siege beasts, roaming bosses, and an event AI that scales against larger groups." He glanced up at her, his expression sharp. "But the rewards? They scale too. If we claim it, The Chosen won't just have a base—we'll have a fortress that rivals the capital cities."
Alycia whistled low. "You're not thinking small, I'll give you that. But how many people do you think we need for something like this?"
Mars exhaled, considering the strategy. "At minimum, we'll need twenty capable players—ones who can follow orders and adapt. The first phase is the hardest—breaking through the siege defenses and wiping out the elite demon guards. If we don't do it in time, the raid resets, and we're back to square one."
Alycia nodded slowly. "And if we pull it off?"
Mars's lips curved into a smirk. "Then we have a base of operations that no one can contest. A fortress with built-in defenses and access to rare resources. We'll control the north, and any guild that wants to expand will have to go through us."
Alycia tapped her chin, a sly grin forming. "You make it sound so easy."
Mars chuckled. "I never said it would be easy. But it's possible. And if The Chosen is going to make a name for itself, we need to start by doing what no one else can."
Alycia studied him for a long moment before nodding. "Alright. You've got my attention. So, how do we start?"
Mars opened his interface, scrolling through potential raid preparations. "First, we gather intel. I need to know the current enemy composition and if any server updates changed the mechanics of the event. Then, we recruit." He met her gaze. "We can't afford dead weight. Anyone who signs on needs to know this isn't a loot run. It's a war."
Alycia smirked. "War, huh? Well, it wouldn't be fun otherwise."
Mars swiped through his notifications, his system chiming softly.
[New Guild Objective Set: Claim Morrath Castle.]
[Raid Event Activated: The Fall of Morrath. Recommended Party Size: 20+. Suggested Level: 15+. Current Guild Members: 10.]
He shut his interface and met Alycia's knowing stare.
"The real game starts now."
Monolith Takes Notice
Deep within Monolith's headquarters, a fortress-like guild hall constructed in the heart of Elvaris Dominion territory, Marcus Vale sat behind an ornate desk, his gold-trimmed tabard draped over his shoulders. The dim candlelight flickered against polished black stone walls, casting long shadows over the room. His sharp gaze swept across the guild roster, each name representing another piece of Monolith's growing empire.
A knock at his door pulled him from his thoughts. "Enter," he commanded.
The door creaked open, revealing a rogue clad in dark leather, his hood lowered in deference. He stepped forward, bowing slightly before speaking. "Sir, the recruitment teams report that a new guild has formed in Greythorn. 'The Chosen.' Their leader—Mars—isn't affiliating with anyone outside of an alliance with Emerald Dawn. He's already making a name for himself."
Marcus exhaled slowly, his fingers tapping against the polished wood of his desk. "A newly formed guild with ties to Emerald Dawn?" His lips curved into a smirk. "That complicates things."
The rogue nodded. "It's more than just an alliance of convenience. Alycia Cortez personally helped him gather the signatures to form The Chosen, and she's been vouching for him. They're moving quickly—he's already secured a growing roster, and it looks like he's planning something big."
Marcus raised a brow at that. "Alycia Cortez doesn't vouch for just anyone." He leaned back in his chair, thoughtful. "What else do we know?"
"He just hit Level 10, but he's been advancing at an absurd pace. His C-Rank quest completion made waves, and now he's gearing up for something bigger. Some of our informants say he's setting his sights on Morrath Castle."
Marcus's smirk faltered slightly. "Morrath Castle?" He scoffed, shaking his head. "That place has remained untouched for a reason. Either he's overestimating himself, or he knows something we don't."
The rogue hesitated. "Orders, sir? Should we... intervene?"
Marcus chuckled, his fingers steepling together. "Not yet." He leaned forward, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement. "Let him build. Let him think he's securing a future." He gestured toward the roster, his smirk sharpening. "Guilds like his either crumble under pressure or make a tempting target."
The rogue shifted uneasily. "And if he does take Morrath Castle?"
Marcus's grin widened, his voice laced with cold amusement. "Then we let him do the hard work for us." His gaze darkened as he glanced back at the list of names. "And once The Chosen becomes something worth taking... we'll remind him why Monolith stands at the top."