Chapter 395
Chapter 395
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 395
Chapter Title: Ranking War - Main Tournament (2)
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The world's greatest ranking tournament in The Lord, watched by the entire globe.
This event, run in an open tournament format, wasn't just about ranking players—it carried major in-game significance too.
That was 'fame.'
Not the reputation stats that applied to NPCs.
The outcomes today and tomorrow would determine personal influence.
Their combat styles, class combos, gear setups—those would spark trends, and fan clubs or guild applicants might overflow.
'No wonder the apostles are desperate.'
And most crucially, for apostles, it meant more followers for the gods they served.
That could increase their numbers and expand the gods' influence on the mortal world and heavens.
'Still gonna hide it now?'
They could no longer hold back their full power or final trump cards.
If they hid their aces to counter Rokan and lost pathetically, their ranking would tank—and so would the influence of the god who chose them as apostle.
Especially against another apostle.
If two gods' apostles clashed and one won, who would people flock to?
They weren't dumb enough to miss that obvious logic, so now they had no choice but to unleash their power.
The round of 32 already heated up the atmosphere.
"Now it's getting good."
Once Rokan set the tone, things rolled exactly as he wanted.
The apostles after him hesitated at first, but after one got wrecked by a surprise ultimate, the rest steeled themselves.
Hiding power wouldn't fool Rokan anyway.
And most opponents were fellow 'apostles.'
Unable to guarantee victory while holding back, plenty went all-out from the start, just like Sorakan.
Full recovery happened after each match anyway.
No regrets—they bared everything without mercy.
"That's..."
Rokan watched the thrilling round of 32, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
Even among apostles, he sensed differences.
It came down to items.
They'd all geared up properly, but some wielded never-before-seen special gear—like Sorakan's wand—while others relied on divine power without standout features.
And the power gap was clear.
"Divine artifacts?"
Rokan pegged it: the presence or absence decided matches.
Items bestowed directly by gods on their apostles.
Their value rivaled at least Heavenly God's Providence, Demon God's Providence, or the Gale Wind Relics set.
Set items or god-tier gear, for sure.
"Wanna bet they won't item rush if I suggest it?"
Tempted to propose duels wagering their god-tier gear, but no way they'd bite.
They might think they had a shot, but defeat odds were overwhelmingly against them.
"Hope it wraps up quick."
Rokan's eyes gleamed snake-like as he eyed the Demon God's Fang Belt info again.
"No drop prevention or no-trade lock, huh?"
No such options anywhere.
So, somehow, he could claim it.
Even if not for personal use, sacrificing it to the belt would yield serious power.
While he burned with predatory intent, his turn rolled around again.
"Surrender! I surrender!"
"..."
Round of 16 opponent: Hamel, of all people.
Miti had dropped yesterday, but Hamel—armed with Heavenly God's Relics as an apostle—clung on stubbornly to reach here.
Already dubbed the Holy Cockroach, now with god-blessed heals, defenses, and buffs, opponents must've been dumbfounded and furious.
But he surrendered the instant he saw Rokan's face.
Fearing no-mercy beatdown, he bolted to a corner at match start and yelled it.
"Boooooo!"
Jeers rained down. They craved a hot fight, not an instant quit?
Understandable against Rokan, but still a buzzkill.
[Winner: King of Violence Rokan]
Too late now.
System declared Rokan's win; round of 16 opener ended in under a second.
Fierce battles followed. Similar cases happened—not rare.
Guildmates might forfeit to save strength and deny info to others.
But at 16-strong, no guild or nation dominated; all-out clashes everywhere.
[Winner: King of Violence Rokan]
Rokan breezed through the final quarterfinal too.
No need for Gale Wind Incarnation or such—just charged, swung the battle axe, unstoppable.
Even desperate divine artifact blocks crumbled under raw power; Rokan pinned, then shredded mercilessly.
Another apostle fell pathetically; Rokan hit the final four.
Semis and finals: tomorrow.
"Ah, finally."
Post-quarters, Rokan ditched the arena for hunts, but XP gains sucked.
Swept level 400+ zones, but nearing 450, required XP skyrocketed astronomically.
All-nighter barely netted maybe 10%.
Frustrated back in town, he got welcome news.
[Body stabilization complete.]
[Song of Fire and Ice now available.]
Opposing forces fully fused into him, coexisting, primed to unleash.
"Short on time."
More hours, and he'd have farmed with it.
But logout time loomed.
Early sleep, marathon hunt interrupted only for finals? Tempting, but bigger plans meant adjusted schedule.
He could smash most foes barehanded anyway.
Rokan reviewed titles and skills one last time, logged out, napped till semis.
***
[Ranking War Semifinal 1: King of Violence Rokan vs. Golden Zealot Cashman.]
"Cashman?"
Next day, Rokan logged in leisurely post-nap. No time for hunts pre-semis anyway.
Spotted his unforeseen foe.
Ultimate pay-to-win whale Cashman.
Billions dumped into The Lord alone.
In semis, no less.
"This good?"
As far as he recalled, no other high-level 'Cashman' ID, so probably the guy.
But this skilled? Gear was absurdly paywalled, but clunky control capped him at mid-tier brute.
Even with new heaven-realm gear bumps, pure cash couldn't explain semis.
Probably an apostle too.
"Hmm, more shut-eye."
That was it.
Rokan catnapped in the lounge. In-game sleep eased real fatigue a bit.
Stockpiling energy to bolt post-tourney.
[Teleport to arena in 5 seconds. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.]
He woke ~20 seconds pre-teleport.
Sleepy-faced Rokan entered to cheers; foe paled.
"Smirking?"
Scanning blankly as usual, Rokan caught the foe's grin.
Cashman daring to smirk against him? Insane?
Cracking knuckles, announcer called start.
"Heh heh heh heh! Golden Scales!"
"..."
Cashman triggered a skill at kickoff.
Flashy-named Golden Scales.
Massive glowing golden scale descended mid-arena.
"Fancy trick. Aura Barrage."
Shwooo...
No indulging that.
Rokan lazily swung the battle axe, unleashing thick aura bundles.
But they phased right through.
Golden Scales wasn't targetable.
"Authority: Golden Judgment!"
As Rokan frowned annoyedly, Cashman yelled again, firing his signature scale skill.
Rokan glimpsed familiar golden aura, thought he'd seen it—then a notice hit.
[Golden Scales activates Golden Judgment.]
[Golden Scales weighs target's wealth.]
[Wealth equals power. Greater gold/coins holder gains buff proportional to difference.]
Peak whaler skill, wealth unfathomable.
Conditional special buff: compares wealth, buffs by margin. Golden God's authority, via apostle Cashman.
[Golden Scales grants you inexplicable power.]
"..."
But he didn't know: no matter how he splashed, Rokan's fortune dwarfed it.
Freshly cashed up, Rokan's inventory gold/coins outscaled Cashman's by orders of magnitude.
Dwarfing their already vast gap, unmeasurable.
Unlike Majesty Master level-ups, this raw stat-multiplied without touching levels.
"Dunno what, but I'll use it well."
Whip! Boom!
Not even a full swing. Casual toss like catch—Cashman pulped.
No time to slice; raw force flattened him to dough.
[Winner: King of Violence Rokan]
Semis ended anticlimactically easy.
Other semi followed.
Its winner joined Rokan in finals.
"...Fight!"
"Waaaaaaah!"
Roar signaled start—and an upset unfolded.