Chapter 1: Desperate Alliances

"We can't trust him!" said a deep voice laced with frustration.

Kenji sighed deeply, glancing over at his comrade.

"I understand how you feel, Elijah. Under normal circumstances, we wouldn't even consider it. But with 'Night's Order' caught up in their internal politics and their obsession with keeping Camelot safe, we don't have many options left… There's no one else we can turn to, to gather enough of a force to stand a chance against this level's Supreme and his army."

"I know, Kenji! Damn it, I know!" Elijah's fists clenched, the muscles in his jaw tightening.

"But trusting 'Blood Lord'? That bloodsucker! You've heard the stories. The things he's done… how can we…?"

Kenji's gaze hardened, but he remained calm.

"We don't have to trust him. But we do have to trust his survival instincts. 'Blood Lord' may be a monster, but he is also a 'player', a human and, like the rest of us, has a desire to live. Someone like him, who's spent so much effort building an empire, wouldn't want to see it burn. He'll help us if only because he values his own existence."

Elijah shook his head, his brow furrowed in thought.

"I know you're right. 'Blood lord' is strong. His forces are strong. But working with him... it leaves a bad taste in my mouth."

Kenji placed a hand on Elijah's shoulder.

"I don't like it either. But if we lose this Ascension trail, Earth is doomed. We don't have the luxury of choosing our allies."

After finishing the conversation, Kenji raised his hand, signalling to the vast army of 5,000 soldiers that followed behind them to stop.

This powerful force had been trailing silently across the barren lands, moving under the cover of jagged obsidian peaks that pierced the illusory sky. The ground itself groaned under the heat of volcanic geysers, with their scorching steam hissing into the air.

Kenji's command was swift, and the soldiers encased in thick, darkened plates of armour stopped in unison. Their presence was an imposing sight, with their strong, towering figures and armour gleaming in the glow of the distant molten rivers.

Juxtaposing the heavily armoured soldiers stood other individuals with smaller and less robust frames, robed in flowing garments.

These individuals clutched staffs etched with ancient and powerful symbols, and their eyes alighted with quiet and mystical powers that encased them in an aura just as powerful as their larger comrades.

Kenji swiftly turned to address his elite force, which consisted of warriors gathered from every country in the 'Old World'. Everyone here had pledged their loyalty to this cause. They had vowed to be the hammer that would strike down this level of 'Hell's' Supreme and his evil minions.

These soldiers were no ordinary troops. They were seasoned warriors ranging from the fourth to the sixth tier of power, between levels 40 to 60, each equipped with powerful items and bolstered with high-rank skills. The weight of their collective strength and the oppressive atmosphere they exuded were palpable.

"My Brothers! 'Blood Lord's' forces should be just ahead..." Kenji began, his voice steady, but before he could finish—

'BOOM!'

A blinding flash of light exploded a few metres from where Kenji and his elites stood. It rapidly expanded outwards, washing over the area in a thunderous wave of pure destructive energy.

Elijah's eyes widened as he instinctively raised his shield. The light swelled with terrifying speed, enveloping everything in its path. Elijah felt a sharp, searing pain as the heat melted through the thick plates of his armour. This armour that had withstood countless battles and possessed a high physical and magical resistance, made from the Legendary ranked material 'Mithril', but now it helplessly disintegrated under this relentless surge of energy, its enchantments proving futile.

The force of the explosion lifted Elijah off his feet, spinning the world in a chaotic blur. Pain shot through him, but in that brief, excruciating moment, time seemed to slow down—not from the brief moments before death, but from the activation of one of his intrinsic tank skills, an instinct-type skill from his class.

In mere microseconds, as the blinding white light began to envelop everything, Elijah's mind sharpened, granting him a few precious moments to think.

What did it mean to be a Tank?

In the 'Old world', a tank was a machine, a vehicle of war encased in thick armour capable of delivering overwhelming firepower while shrugging off attacks. But in the 'New World', a Tank was something more. A tank was a living bulwark, an unyielding protector. A 'player' whose sole purpose was to stand at the front, shielding his comrades, giving them the precious moments they needed to turn the tide of battle. And Elijah… Elijah was that Tank for his party.

In the brief instant before the light consumed them, Elijah's eyes scanned his comrade's forms, as they were now on the verge of being torn apart. Elijah couldn't let it end this way. Reaching deep within himself, he pulled on the 'True Bond' he shared with the shield firmly grasped in his right hand. The shield was called 'Hallowed Embrace,' a Mythical-ranked shield that had been with Elijah through every battle, every trial and now, once again, it would fulfil its role.

How did a Tank fulfil its role?

There had always been debate among the players. Some believed a Tank should strike a balance between offence and defence, a school of thought spread by the devoted believers of the leader of the 'Templars', a specialised force within the organisation 'Knights order'.

But Elijah held to a different creed. A Tank's only job was to be the unbreakable wall! To be the one that took every hit and endured every blow for the sake of those they fought beside.

As the light began to eat away at his flesh, tearing through his armour, Elijah activated one of the enchantments from his shield.

This enchantment was not one that unleashed devastating power, nor did it make him an invincible fortress. No, its purpose was far simpler! Far purer!

The enchantment 'Guardian Angel' would make Elijah a true protector, transferring all the damage his allies would receive onto himself. For this, Elijah believed, was the essence of a Tank. To bear the pain, others could not.

With a silent, desperate plea, Elijah activated the enchantment. The connection between him and his four closest party members was already linked through 'Guardian angel', and so the enchantment quickly ignited as a surge of mana flowed through their bond and into the shield.

Almost instantly, searing, unimaginable pain flooded Elijah's senses as every wound, every instant of damage that was meant for his comrades was redirected to him.

"Aghhh!" Elijah roared, his voice drowning in the storm of light and fire.

The unbearable pain consumed Elijah, and as the brightness swallowed his vision, Elijah felt his consciousness slipping away and into nothingness.

The last thing Elijah remembered was the comfort of darkness; here, there was no pain, no suffering. Here, there was only silence.