Chapter 170: Dishonorable
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Chapter 170: Dishonorable
As the Wisdom Goddess posed her question, the gazes of the gods immediately turned toward Detwe.
Though they didn’t believe Detwe would answer, they still held a sliver of hope.
The long passage of time had taught them one thing: doing something was better than doing nothing.
If they didn’t ask, Detwe certainly wouldn’t volunteer an answer.
But if they did ask, there was always a chance.
Detwe paused briefly before replying, "Through reason and persuasion!"
What?
Through reason and persuasion?
The Kaman gods exchanged bewildered glances. What kind of bullshit answer was that?
What "reason" could have made the Four Pillar Gods time their intervention so perfectly, just in time to lift the siege on the Keville Empire?
Even if the Four Pillar Gods had intended to carve up the God of Death, wouldn’t it have been better to wait until the conflict between the God of Death and the Internet God reached its peak before launching a joint attack?
As the Kaman gods mulled over these thoughts, Detwe gave a slight nod, placed a hand over his chest, and withdrew from the meeting room.
The Kaman gods ultimately didn’t have the nerve to stop him for further questioning.
Exchanging glances, they silently concluded that Detwe was being deliberately cryptic—the Internet God must have paid a hefty price to enlist the Four Pillar Gods.
Hmm?
Just as they were thinking this, the Kaman gods suddenly turned their attention to the center of the meeting room, where a magical projection slowly unfolded.
In the image, from a tent dozens of miles outside the border town of Anqilo in Hariman territory, a figure suddenly burst forth, hovering mid-air.
Clad in furs, wearing a felt hat, and carrying a curved blade at his waist, he was unmistakably dressed as a Grassland Barbarian!
Yet, the Kaman gods recognized him instantly—he was none other than the Grassland God, the autocratic ruler of the North Ai Grassland.
"God of Dark Night, why did you involve the Internet God in our feud? Fine! Since you’ve acted without honor, don’t blame me for showing no mercy! The Grasslands may lack many things, but after millennia of accumulation, we have enough gold and silver to drown Hariman! What awaits you isn’t just the bravery of Grassland warriors—but also the undying, unkillable Fourth Calamity!"
The Grassland God’s furious tirade left the Kaman gods in Greg Cathedral utterly stunned.
The God of Dark Night slammed the table and stood up with a loud bang, cursing loudly, "Damn you, Internet God! This is utterly dishonorable! Deceitful! Shameless!"
The other Kaman gods quickly caught on, their expressions darkening.
They had been deceived by the Internet God!
What infuriated and humiliated them the most was that even though they knew they’d been tricked, they had no choice but to swallow their pride and accept the outcome.
Because anyone who retaliated would risk upsetting the War Balance—and worse, permanently alienating the Internet God!
At this moment, the Kaman gods loathed the Internet God with every fiber of their being.
Yet, for the vast majority of internet users, their adoration for the Internet God had never been stronger.
Especially Justin.
Ever since he snatched a pile of Mithril in Kazad-dûm and made a staggering profit of 110,000 gold coins, Justin had become an overnight sensation in the Conquest of Subdomains.
With this massive windfall, Justin didn’t hesitate—he immediately registered a player guild, purchased an airship, and leveraged his newfound fame to rally a large group of civilian players, flooding into Kazad-dûm in droves.
As one of the first to seize the opportunity, Justin reaped the rewards of plundering, and his guild had now risen to become one of the most prominent in Kazad-dûm.
Many player guilds led by advanced mages couldn’t even compete with him.
The reason isn’t hard to analyze. The Kazad-dûm dungeon isn’t ruled by brute strength alone.
Luck, strategy, tactics, morale, profit distribution—too many factors influence the operation of a guild. Justin has displayed extraordinary talent in this regard.
Born a noble, cursed with mediocre talent, running away from home, drifting through hardships—experiencing the fickleness of human nature… These life experiences endowed him with both noble insight and an understanding of the common folk’s psyche. This allowed his player guild to strike a perfect balance in profit distribution—how could it not rise to prominence?
And with his rise, his family came knocking.
Outside the gates of Felix Magic Academy stood a tavern called the Mage's Hat.
It’s said that when Lord Ajef first appeared in Willis City, it was inside the Mage's Hat.
Rumors claim a farce unfolded at the time.
What exactly happened? Online theories abound, but the truth remains elusive.
One thing is certain, though—Lord Ajef did indeed visit the Mage's Hat.
Thus, it became another viral hotspot after the offal noodles!
Or rather, the offal noodles came after the Mage's Hat.
At this moment, Justin sat at a long table in a corner of the tavern, draped in the white robes of a magic apprentice, faint traces of mana emanating from him.
This wasn’t his own power—it came from potent magic artifacts afforded by wealth.
Across from him sat the clan leader, elders, and his parents in order.
Beside the table stood his cousins, who had once bullied him, their faces flushed with shame. Under the elders’ instruction, they bowed in apology before the crowd:
"Justin, dear brother (cousin), we wronged you in the past. Please forgive our petty transgressions!"
Justin watched them with a faint smile, shaking his head with remarkable grace.
"Dear cousins, you exaggerate. What children don’t squabble? Making such a scene might make outsiders think I’m bullying the weak!"
At his words, the elders exchanged glances, each seeing a flicker of admiration in the other’s eyes.
Before this, many had dismissed Justin’s success as mere dumb luck.
Now, it was clear—his reputation was well-earned.
"Justin, I admit I neglected you in the past. That was my mistake, and I apologize. If you’re willing to return to the family, a seat among the elders awaits you. What do you say?"
Seeing the situation, the fifty-something clan leader abandoned petty tricks. After apologizing, he cut straight to the point.
Justin smiled faintly.
"After taking the elder’s seat, would I have to surrender the Fortune Guild to the family?"
The Fortune Guild—Justin’s own player guild.
Justin’s father scowled.
"What nonsense! As a member of the family, you naturally serve its interests. The Fortune Guild is yours, but it’s also the family’s."
The clan leader chuckled.
"Now, now, no need for such severity. The Fortune Guild is your creation—it will always be yours. We merely hope you’ll open it to nurture the family’s younger generation. Of course, the family won’t shortchange you. Funds, resources—just name it, and I’ll ensure you’re fully supported."
As the clan leader finished, Justin’s mother added her own gentle plea.
"Yes, Justin. The recent pre-update for the Conquest of Subdomains introduced the Faction System. Though I’m just a woman with little understanding of such matters, I know there’s strength in numbers. Having the family join you would bring nothing but benefits! Come home, child."
Justin looked at his mother’s face, filled with genuine concern, utterly unfeigned.
He knew she truly meant well for him—unfortunately, she had been deceived by the family!
The sight of it made him laugh in fury. "Heh..."
Focus on nurturing the family’s younger generation?
Wasn’t this just a ploy to seize his Fortune Guild?
Truly, when you’re poor, no one asks after you in the bustling streets; when you’re rich, distant relatives come calling from the deep mountains!
"What are you laughing at?" Justin’s father frowned.
"The family isn’t short on money, is it? You could start your own guild, buy a few floating airships—at most, eighty or ninety thousand gold coins. Why fixate so desperately on my wealth?" Justin’s tone dripped with sarcasm.
"Outrageous!" His father was both shocked and enraged.
The clan leader of the Justin family furrowed his brows even deeper.
The Justin family wasn’t lacking in funds, and establishing a player guild wasn’t difficult.
But for a player guild to grow and thrive? That wasn’t something mere wealth could achieve.
They might not understand the concept of the head effect, but reality had already shown them the truth.
Despite pouring endless gold coins into nurturing their own player guild, it still paled in comparison to Justin’s Fortune Guild.
To put it bluntly—they had missed the first wave of opportunity.
The prime locations around the four Magic Towers in the Dofi domain had long been occupied by established guilds.
They recruited players, plundered wealth, built factories, manufactured weapons, and waged battles—forming a self-sustaining cycle.
When new players flooded in, most of them didn’t care about your guild’s background or prestige.
They only cared about one thing: Can you make us rich? Can you carry us to success?
Justin’s explosive earnings of 110,000 gold coins told a far more direct and compelling story than the reserved, aristocratic marketing of those old noble families.
In other words, having missed the initial wave, rising now would require a thousand times more effort!
What? Resort to underhanded tactics?
Did they think the complaint function of the Internet was just for show?
The Fourth Calamity was part of the Internet God’s power—would He allow infighting among His own?
While mergers and acquisitions of player guilds did happen, and nobles throwing around vast sums of gold coins to buy them out wasn’t unheard of—
All of that hinged on mutual agreement.
That was precisely why the Justin family had swallowed their pride to bring Justin back.
But little did they know—the Justin standing before them was no longer the naive boy who had once run away from home.
He wiped the smirk off his face, stood up, planted his hands on the table, and leaned forward, staring down at his elders.
"Mother, I am grateful to you for giving me life, and I thank the family for raising me. But these things are not reasons for you to shackle me."
Justin’s expression twisted into mockery.
"When the entire clan mocked, ridiculed, and even bullied me—it was the Internet that gave me hope! And where were all of you? Did you not see me being tormented? No, you saw it. You even encouraged them to bully me!"
As the Wisdom Goddess posed her question, the gazes of the gods immediately turned toward Detwe.
Though they didn’t believe Detwe would answer, they still held a sliver of hope.
The long passage of time had taught them one thing: doing something was better than doing nothing.
If they didn’t ask, Detwe certainly wouldn’t volunteer an answer.
But if they did ask, there was always a chance.
Detwe paused briefly before replying, "Through reason and persuasion!"
What?
Through reason and persuasion?
The Kaman gods exchanged bewildered glances. What kind of bullshit answer was that?
What "reason" could have made the Four Pillar Gods time their intervention so perfectly, just in time to lift the siege on the Keville Empire?
Even if the Four Pillar Gods had intended to carve up the God of Death, wouldn’t it have been better to wait until the conflict between the God of Death and the Internet God reached its peak before launching a joint attack?
As the Kaman gods mulled over these thoughts, Detwe gave a slight nod, placed a hand over his chest, and withdrew from the meeting room.
The Kaman gods ultimately didn’t have the nerve to stop him for further questioning.
Exchanging glances, they silently concluded that Detwe was being deliberately cryptic—the Internet God must have paid a hefty price to enlist the Four Pillar Gods.
Hmm?
Just as they were thinking this, the Kaman gods suddenly turned their attention to the center of the meeting room, where a magical projection slowly unfolded.
In the image, from a tent dozens of miles outside the border town of Anqilo in Hariman territory, a figure suddenly burst forth, hovering mid-air.
Clad in furs, wearing a felt hat, and carrying a curved blade at his waist, he was unmistakably dressed as a Grassland Barbarian!
Yet, the Kaman gods recognized him instantly—he was none other than the Grassland God, the autocratic ruler of the North Ai Grassland.
"God of Dark Night, why did you involve the Internet God in our feud? Fine! Since you’ve acted without honor, don’t blame me for showing no mercy! The Grasslands may lack many things, but after millennia of accumulation, we have enough gold and silver to drown Hariman! What awaits you isn’t just the bravery of Grassland warriors—but also the undying, unkillable Fourth Calamity!"
The Grassland God’s furious tirade left the Kaman gods in Greg Cathedral utterly stunned.
The God of Dark Night slammed the table and stood up with a loud bang, cursing loudly, "Damn you, Internet God! This is utterly dishonorable! Deceitful! Shameless!"
The other Kaman gods quickly caught on, their expressions darkening.
They had been deceived by the Internet God!
What infuriated and humiliated them the most was that even though they knew they’d been tricked, they had no choice but to swallow their pride and accept the outcome.
Because anyone who retaliated would risk upsetting the War Balance—and worse, permanently alienating the Internet God!
At this moment, the Kaman gods loathed the Internet God with every fiber of their being.
Yet, for the vast majority of internet users, their adoration for the Internet God had never been stronger.
Especially Justin.
Ever since he snatched a pile of Mithril in Kazad-dûm and made a staggering profit of 110,000 gold coins, Justin had become an overnight sensation in the Conquest of Subdomains.
With this massive windfall, Justin didn’t hesitate—he immediately registered a player guild, purchased an airship, and leveraged his newfound fame to rally a large group of civilian players, flooding into Kazad-dûm in droves.
As one of the first to seize the opportunity, Justin reaped the rewards of plundering, and his guild had now risen to become one of the most prominent in Kazad-dûm.
Many player guilds led by advanced mages couldn’t even compete with him.
The reason isn’t hard to analyze. The Kazad-dûm dungeon isn’t ruled by brute strength alone.
Luck, strategy, tactics, morale, profit distribution—too many factors influence the operation of a guild. Justin has displayed extraordinary talent in this regard.
Born a noble, cursed with mediocre talent, running away from home, drifting through hardships—experiencing the fickleness of human nature… These life experiences endowed him with both noble insight and an understanding of the common folk’s psyche. This allowed his player guild to strike a perfect balance in profit distribution—how could it not rise to prominence?
And with his rise, his family came knocking.
Outside the gates of Felix Magic Academy stood a tavern called the Mage's Hat.
It’s said that when Lord Ajef first appeared in Willis City, it was inside the Mage's Hat.
Rumors claim a farce unfolded at the time.
What exactly happened? Online theories abound, but the truth remains elusive.
One thing is certain, though—Lord Ajef did indeed visit the Mage's Hat.
Thus, it became another viral hotspot after the offal noodles!
Or rather, the offal noodles came after the Mage's Hat.
At this moment, Justin sat at a long table in a corner of the tavern, draped in the white robes of a magic apprentice, faint traces of mana emanating from him.
This wasn’t his own power—it came from potent magic artifacts afforded by wealth.
Across from him sat the clan leader, elders, and his parents in order.
Beside the table stood his cousins, who had once bullied him, their faces flushed with shame. Under the elders’ instruction, they bowed in apology before the crowd:
"Justin, dear brother (cousin), we wronged you in the past. Please forgive our petty transgressions!"
Justin watched them with a faint smile, shaking his head with remarkable grace.
"Dear cousins, you exaggerate. What children don’t squabble? Making such a scene might make outsiders think I’m bullying the weak!"
At his words, the elders exchanged glances, each seeing a flicker of admiration in the other’s eyes.
Before this, many had dismissed Justin’s success as mere dumb luck.
Now, it was clear—his reputation was well-earned.
"Justin, I admit I neglected you in the past. That was my mistake, and I apologize. If you’re willing to return to the family, a seat among the elders awaits you. What do you say?"
Seeing the situation, the fifty-something clan leader abandoned petty tricks. After apologizing, he cut straight to the point.
Justin smiled faintly.
"After taking the elder’s seat, would I have to surrender the Fortune Guild to the family?"
The Fortune Guild—Justin’s own player guild.
Justin’s father scowled.
"What nonsense! As a member of the family, you naturally serve its interests. The Fortune Guild is yours, but it’s also the family’s."
The clan leader chuckled.
"Now, now, no need for such severity. The Fortune Guild is your creation—it will always be yours. We merely hope you’ll open it to nurture the family’s younger generation. Of course, the family won’t shortchange you. Funds, resources—just name it, and I’ll ensure you’re fully supported."
As the clan leader finished, Justin’s mother added her own gentle plea.
"Yes, Justin. The recent pre-update for the Conquest of Subdomains introduced the Faction System. Though I’m just a woman with little understanding of such matters, I know there’s strength in numbers. Having the family join you would bring nothing but benefits! Come home, child."
Justin looked at his mother’s face, filled with genuine concern, utterly unfeigned.
He knew she truly meant well for him—unfortunately, she had been deceived by the family!
The sight of it made him laugh in fury. "Heh..."
Focus on nurturing the family’s younger generation?
Wasn’t this just a ploy to seize his Fortune Guild?
Truly, when you’re poor, no one asks after you in the bustling streets; when you’re rich, distant relatives come calling from the deep mountains!
"What are you laughing at?" Justin’s father frowned.
"The family isn’t short on money, is it? You could start your own guild, buy a few floating airships—at most, eighty or ninety thousand gold coins. Why fixate so desperately on my wealth?" Justin’s tone dripped with sarcasm.
"Outrageous!" His father was both shocked and enraged.
The clan leader of the Justin family furrowed his brows even deeper.
The Justin family wasn’t lacking in funds, and establishing a player guild wasn’t difficult.
But for a player guild to grow and thrive? That wasn’t something mere wealth could achieve.
They might not understand the concept of the head effect, but reality had already shown them the truth.
Despite pouring endless gold coins into nurturing their own player guild, it still paled in comparison to Justin’s Fortune Guild.
To put it bluntly—they had missed the first wave of opportunity.
The prime locations around the four Magic Towers in the Dofi domain had long been occupied by established guilds.
They recruited players, plundered wealth, built factories, manufactured weapons, and waged battles—forming a self-sustaining cycle.
When new players flooded in, most of them didn’t care about your guild’s background or prestige.
They only cared about one thing: Can you make us rich? Can you carry us to success?
Justin’s explosive earnings of 110,000 gold coins told a far more direct and compelling story than the reserved, aristocratic marketing of those old noble families.
In other words, having missed the initial wave, rising now would require a thousand times more effort!
What? Resort to underhanded tactics?
Did they think the complaint function of the Internet was just for show?
The Fourth Calamity was part of the Internet God’s power—would He allow infighting among His own?
While mergers and acquisitions of player guilds did happen, and nobles throwing around vast sums of gold coins to buy them out wasn’t unheard of—
All of that hinged on mutual agreement.
That was precisely why the Justin family had swallowed their pride to bring Justin back.
But little did they know—the Justin standing before them was no longer the naive boy who had once run away from home.
He wiped the smirk off his face, stood up, planted his hands on the table, and leaned forward, staring down at his elders.
"Mother, I am grateful to you for giving me life, and I thank the family for raising me. But these things are not reasons for you to shackle me."
Justin’s expression twisted into mockery.
"When the entire clan mocked, ridiculed, and even bullied me—it was the Internet that gave me hope! And where were all of you? Did you not see me being tormented? No, you saw it. You even encouraged them to bully me!"
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