Dungeon King: The Hidden Ruler-Chapter 116: [Throne War: Parallax Protocol 7] This City Will Not Kneel

Chapter 116: [Throne War: Parallax Protocol 7] This City Will Not Kneel

Far from Titan Corp’s polished boardrooms and their quietly hostile meeting halls, Raven returned to the Throne Wars.

However, different from the previous day, the situation in the inner sanctum was far more hectic. As Raven materialized into the game, he paused.

Something was off.

Instead of the usual player deployment toward the front lines, the sanctum was swarming. Dozens—no, hundreds—of players stood gathered, some grouped by guild tags, others wandering nervously with weapons half-drawn.

He stood still for a moment, letting the atmosphere sink in. This wasn’t a usual rally point or pre-raid meetup. This was something else.

Mass login surge? Last-minute strategy briefing? A coordinated guild convergence?

Then someone nearby shouted, their voice raw with urgency.

"PREPARE INNER SANCTUM DEFENSE!"

Raven turned to look at the speaker, his gaze sharpening. This wasn’t organization.

It was panic.

"IT’S IN THE PLAZA ALREADY! WAKE UP!" "West lane, Golem’s stomping the statue garden!"

Raven didn’t move right away. He stared at his minimap, where the crimson triangle of death pulsed slowly, ominously, already in the inner city, ready to close in on the inner sanctum.

"...Way too close."

He took off at a sprint, heading straight into chaos.

The wall that had been hastily rebuilt the day before now lay in ruins again. The Siege Breaker Golem had torn it open—its massive frame grinding through the breach like a battering ram with a will of its own. There was no pause. No drama. It simply walked.

It moved from wall to city, and now from city into the very heart of Emberwatch. The inner city trembled beneath its footsteps. If it made it any farther, it would reach the edge of the outer sanctum—and from there, nothing would stop it from trampling the inner sanctum into dust.

The defenders understood this. The moment they saw the green glow of the rune embedded in its chest and the molten cracks trailing from each footstep, the panic turned to grim resolve.

The Siege Breaker Golem loomed like a forgotten god of war, its entire body a fusion of ancient bark and obsidian metal. Spikes jutted from its back like broken pillars, and its arms were layered in armored ridges that ground together with every movement. The green rune embedded in its chest pulsed like a heartbeat from some otherworldly creature, feeding veins of molten energy that crisscrossed its massive frame.

It walked slowly—inevitably—on a straight path. There was no hesitation in its gait, no resistance it acknowledged. Market walls, barracks, even stone towers collapsed beneath its crushing steps. Statues were ground into dust. Bridges were snapped like twigs. Every obstacle simply ceased to exist.

The courtyard was a nightmare made real.

"WE HAVE TO KILL IT BEFORE IT REACHES THE SANCTUM!" someone bellowed, their voice crackling through the chaos.

A ripple of shouts followed, desperate and furious:

"DROP THE BINDING NETS!" "DON’T LET IT TOUCH THE GATE!" "ROTATION B3, PULL BACK AND REGROUP!"

The Siege Breaker Golem loomed in the middle of it all, walking slow and straight—indifferent to the war raging around its legs. Fold soldiers surged around its feet like bodyguards, hacking down anyone who came too close.

Serenna_Killmist, a well-known name in the cooperative raid scene, dove into the mess with a roar. A blade dancer ranked among the top 20 PvE duel-wield specialists in the Emberwatch leaderboard, she wasn’t just here to help—she was built for this. Her blades gleamed with coordinated buffs from her raid team, each movement honed from weeks of running siege scenarios and boss fights. She had a reputation: if there was a high-value enemy and chaos all around, Serenna would be at the heart of it, carving paths others could follow.

"GET OFF MY RAID ZONE!" she screamed, whirling through two Fold warriors with a flash of steel and particle sparks.

"Watch your left!" another shouted. "Bomb carrier coming in!"

Serenna danced between enemies, her twin blades a blur of crimson and silver. She was cutting down Fold soldiers with clean, lethal arcs, each step perfectly timed with buffs flaring from nearby supports. Her signature style—precision, speed, ruthless clarity—was unmistakable.

But in war, rhythm was never absolute.

She stepped into a slash, ducked an incoming cleave, then lunged to finish a halberd-wielding Fold knight—when the shadow fell.

Too late.

The Golem’s arm, thick as a fortress wall, swung low in a wide arc.

A guttural roar from its chest echoed across the plaza as its limb connected with the ground—and anything in the way.

Serenna turned her head, eyes wide.

The blow struck her mid-stride. Her body was flung like a doll, limbs twisted midair, crashing through the second-story wall of a stone house behind the front lines.

The building folded inward from the force. Dust exploded outward. The wall collapsed on top of her, rubble burying everything in an instant.

A dozen support healers lit up the plaza with glowing sigils. "Stay in the rings! Stay in the—AAARGH!"

Behind Serenna_Killmist, five healer-class players had instinctively formed a half-circle, their hands weaving support spells to keep her alive. They weren’t meant for this kind of combat—but instinct, loyalty, or perhaps hope had planted them too close to the front.

When Serenna fell, the Fold soldiers surged in.

The first healer, a light-robed elf named Verlainna, tried to cast a barrier. A spear tore through her chest mid-cast. Her shield shattered. She fell backward, eyes wide in disbelief, and disintegrated into a burst of light.

The second, Palewick, shouted for retreat and began channeling a group heal. A Fold blade caught him across the throat. His body slumped over as the spell flickered out.

Third—MimiShroom, a small-statured dwarven cleric—bravely stepped forward, swinging her mace with wild desperation. It struck a Fold warrior’s leg but bounced off harmlessly. The return strike split her down the middle.

The fourth, a human named Soreline, tried to run. She made it ten steps before an axe arced out of the smoke and buried itself in her back. She crawled a few paces, fingers outstretched toward a fallen ally, before her body blinked away.

The last, a gnome priest named TimTimHoly, turned to face the oncoming wave, clutching his rosary. "No one else dies alone," he whispered. A Fold archer answered with a bolt through the eye.

All five vanished within moments, their bodies swallowed by chaos. Only the fading glow of their last wards remained, like dying stars scattered across the plaza.

Fire and poison rained from the rooftops as coordinated players dumped everything they had into the golem’s flank. Its rune still glowed strong.

A warrior slammed his hammer into the cobble, sending a shockwave through the feet of the golem’s escort. "BUY TIME!" he bellowed. "BUY—" His shout ended in a burst of blood as a Fold soldier ran him through.

Players died, resurrected, and returned. The cycle was endless.

And still the golem walked.

Step by step.

Toward the sanctum gate.

Hundreds of players surged into battle. The ground shook with every step the golem took, its legs smashing through statues and toppling city walls. Enchanted arrows, siege spells, poison traps, and mounted attacks flew in waves.

Every class was present—support mages calling cooldowns, trap specialists slowing flanks, heavy shields clashing with enemy lines while ranged fighters focused fire on the golem’s vulnerable rune.

The sky itself looked like it was on fire. Healing circles flickered like swarms of fireflies over bloodied cobblestone. Sigils arced across the rooftops as magic collided midair. Flaming orbs detonated across the battlefield. Screams of coordination, of fear, and of fury cut through the city.

Raven stood high on a half-fallen rampart, watching it all unfold before leaping back into the storm.

This wasn’t a defense.

This was survival.

He must act quick. And time’s running out.

He placed his ballistas on the ground, aimed for the knee joint of the golem.

"DON’T MELEE THE GOLEM. DO RANGED ATTACK! AIM FOR THE KNEE!" He shouted to the crowd.

The Fox’s Flame guild leader, NessaBlight, screamed over zone comms, her voice hoarse with urgency: "DON’T BE IN ITS STRAIGHT PATH! U FORMATION, AIM FOR THE KNEE!"

Amid the chaos, a familiar figure surged forward. Krant_SB—loud, brash, and freshly respawned from yesterday’s madness—barreled into the Fold soldiers guarding the golem’s legs, swinging his oversized mace with reckless joy.

Nessa’s voice cut through again, sharper this time: "YOU STUPID ASS, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!"

But Raven saw it.

He understood the angle, the madness, the moment.

Krant wasn’t just flailing—he was drawing fire, clearing a window for the ballista lines.

"Godspeed, warrior," Raven muttered, loosing another bolt from his station.

Krant bellowed laughter, even as he cleaved through two Fold shocktroopers. "I LIKE YOU, YOU GLOOMY GUY WITH THE DOUBLE DAGGERS. WE SHOULD HAVE A DRINK AFTER THIS!"

Raven grinned, adrenaline rushing. "Sorry, I don’t drink with guys."

Then, with a flick of his hand, he summoned Duskrunner.

"SUMMONER!" Raven shouted into zone chat. "HELP THIS CRAZY BASTARD WHILE BALLISTA LINES TARGETED THE GOLEM!"

Duskrunner howled and bounded forward.

"Healers, rotate behind the ballista lines! Buff him! HE’S YOUR PRIORITY NOW!" Raven commanded, the roar of battle rising around them.

Steel clanged, sigils flared, and Krant roared louder than the golem’s next step.

By the time he reached corridor G, the front line was held together by desperation and a patchwork of player ingenuity.

Arcane snares and mana-fused vines stretched across the broken street. Someone had cobbled together siege delays with timing just good enough to register a reaction in the Golem’s rhythm.

It slowed—barely—but it slowed.

Support casters from Nocturnes of Ember materialized like shadows. They didn’t speak. Didn’t emote. They simply acted—cooldown rotations synced, traps deployed, mobility anchors dropped.

Raven didn’t ask. He just moved.

Anchor. Dodge. Strike. Reset.

They weren’t teammates. They were pieces of a living system. Raven’s dual daggers flashed each time the Golem’s chest rune pulsed. When it finally cracked open, the sky filled with spellfire.

For three seconds, everything hit.

Magic lit up the courtyard like a storm. Arrows howled, lightning curved midair, and Raven’s daggers plunged into the glowing rune as momentum surged through Spirefang’s edge. Numbers spiked—over 1.2 million damage burned off in a heartbeat.

Then Delta fell behind them.

Guardposts: three lost, two contested, one barely holding.

Their front was crumbling.

A roar thundered through the sanctum’s rear wall. The trebuchet—silent for hours—let loose its payload.

A bolt the size of a tree trunk sliced the smoke. Silver-lit, spiraling, it crashed directly into the exposed rune.

The Siege Breaker Golem let out a guttural mechanical scream, folding inward like wet steel. It collapsed into the city’s last courtyard like a dying beast, flattening statues and shattering temple marble.

System text scrolled across every player’s HUD:

[Siege Breaker Golem Destroyed]

Final Blow: Trebuchet Bolt — Sanctum Inner Wall Line

The defenders, blackened and breathless, roared into the smoke.

Raven stood in the dust, one hand resting against Duskrunner’s flank. The hound growled softly, sniffing the debris. They didn’t celebrate. They didn’t cheer.

The wave had been stopped.

But it wasn’t over.

Not yet.