Dungeon King: The Hidden Ruler-Chapter 119: [Throne War: Parallax Protocol 11] The Last Ember

Chapter 119: [Throne War: Parallax Protocol 11] The Last Ember

Elara came in early. The QA floor was quiet, just the hum of machines and the muted chatter of other teams. Her desk—tucked away at the far edge—was as far from the main group as possible, a constant reminder of her exile. Her assigned work was the kind anyone could do: cross-checking minor bug reports from user complaints, low-priority enough that even an intern could handle them.

She didn’t mind. It was what it was.

Until this morning.

The giant promo screen on the far wall was looping TitanCorp’s new Throne Wars highlight reel. The first sequence showed the moment that had turned the tide: defenders turtled inside the Inner Sanctum, then suddenly, from the farthest wall, a squad plummeted down into the breach, healed on impact. Archers and mages above poured fire to cover their drop, and in the chaos, a fire mage’s scream heralded a devastating barrage, ripping through nearly half of Meridian Fold’s backline.

It was brilliant. Coordinated. And completely anonymous.

But in TitanCorp’s version, the footage cut mid-sequence to glossy shots of Parallax Vanguard charging into combat. No names. No clarification. Just the implication that Parallax had been behind the maneuver.

Elara’s stomach turned. How far would they twist the truth?

She finished her daily checks early and walked to her manager.

"Boss, my tasks are done. Can I monitor the final day of Throne Wars? I want to supervise the endgame phase in real time."

"Yeah, sure. One hour. The company doesn’t pay you to play," he said without looking at her.

That was all she needed.

Minutes later, she was in the capsule room. Logging in.

When her vision cleared, she was standing inside the Inner Sanctum. She was still registered as a participant. She wasn’t here to monitor.

She was here to find one person.

Raven.

The city was a warzone.

Raven stood on the front line outside the Sanctum Courtyard, dwarven armor dusted with ash, daggers drawn. The middle district of Emberwatch was nothing but broken barricades and scorched cobblestone. Smoke curled from shattered windows. Shouts filled the air.

"Set up oil here!" "Only two ballistas left!" "West breach—focus fire!"

The Fold no longer attacked in waves—they pressed forward without pause. Every street to the Sanctum was a trench lined with debris and arrow-stained healers.

The first Golem of the day lumbered into view before sunset, twelve million HP and a morale-drain aura that made even seasoned players falter. Ballistas fired until their frames smoked. Traps and glyphs littered the plaza. Defenders dropped, respawned, and returned to the line.

The Golem fell, but it was only the first.

Elara pushed through the crowd, scanning for him. She found him in the thick of it—calling orders, coordinating a counterpush, loosing precise shots into the killbox. He moved with calculated efficiency, every motion feeding into the defense.

"Raven."

He didn’t look.

"Raven, I need to talk to you."

"Not now."

"Please."

A sigh. He stepped back from the ballista and glanced her way. Recognition flickered. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

Fairyblade.

They ducked behind the shell of a collapsed archway, the noise of the siege muffled but still close.

"You’re the one," she said quietly. "The Hidden Boss Event kill. Kharnath Dur. Maybe even the Emberstone Massacre—you’re the anomaly."

Raven raised an eyebrow, a small smile forming on his lips.

This is it. This is when TitanCorp catch him.

Alright, the chessboard was set, let’s make a move, he thinks.

"That’s a lot of names," Raven replied calmly. While he spoke, the cogs in his mind turned, running through various scenarios of who this Fairyblade person might be, before continuing, "And your point is..?"

Fairyblade: "You bypassed the design boundaries. No exploits, no automation. Yet you still bent the AI into doing things it wasn’t built for. That’s not normal."

Raven: "Normal for who? The dev team, or the people playing?"

Fairyblade: "We have to keep the game stable. Predictable. Every mechanic is there for a reason. You—forked dungeons, there is something wrong in your class that delete the backlog record—none of that’s in the blueprint."

Raven: "Blueprints are for builders. Players aren’t here to build your intentions. They’re here to find what’s possible inside them."

Fairyblade: "And if that breaks the game?"

Raven: "Then maybe the game was too small to begin with."

Fairyblade: "Whether you want to admit it or not, you’re reshaping the game. That’s playing god."

Raven: "If that’s true, then your gods built something fragile. I’m just testing where it cracks."

He leans back slightly, watching her reaction closely. "You’re not speaking like a player. Who are you?"

Fairyblade: "Don’t change the subject. What you’re doing is exploiting the system. You could get erased."

Raven reply calmly, "If I can be erased for playing the game better than it was built, then it’s not a game anymore. It’s a rigged table."

Fairyblade: "You could get erased for this. You know that, right?"

Raven tilted his head, voice flat: "For what? There’s not a single line in your ToS that I’ve crossed. I didn’t automate. I didn’t inject. I didn’t even glitch. I played by your rules. It’s not my fault the rules were written by people who didn’t think far enough ahead."

She bristled. "You’re twisting it."

"Am I?" Raven’s voice stayed even, almost bored. "Then tell me—what rule did I break? In principle, not just in your department’s opinion."

She hesitated.

"So?" he asked, tilting his head slightly. "What do you want? Report me?"

A pause. "I don’t know yet. Maybe I will."

Raven chuckled. It was the reaction he’d been fishing for. "Ah... typical TitanCorp. When you can’t win, you threaten to wipe the board."

He reached into his inventory and pulled the Gravewake Cipherblade into view, the blade’s faint glow catching in the light. A curl of a smile touched his lips. "Not only did you strip me of credit for this—" he gave the weapon a lazy spin, "—but you paraded my strategy around in your marketing like it was Parallax’s doing. That maneuver? Between me and Krant_SB. Parallax? They run around like a headless chicken."

Fairyblade’s silence was louder than any defense.

Raven’s gaze sharpened, his tone casual but scalpel-precise. "You’re not from developer. You’re not from PR... no, more likely Quality Assurance. And not senior QA too. If you were, you’d be buried in the back office right now, not on the front line chatting with me. You’re curious enough to break rank and approach me, a player, directly—so you’re new. Yes. I guess you’re just joined this year. Maybe even fresh graduate? I can smell the idealism inside your words. Hmm..i even think that you are here means that your boss didn’t know you are here. If not, you’d already have a formal warning. You realize I could trace you back, right?"

Even as he spoke, one thought lingered in his mind, though he didn’t voice it aloud: that means you’re the only one who knows my class identity.

She froze, throat tight, the weight of her own misstep settling in. Like a chess player who just realized the king’s been surrounded for ten moves.

Raven let the silence settle between them, arranging his next move in his mind—this would be his all‑in gamble.

Raven chuckled again, softer this time. "It’s alright. I have no business in knowing who you are. A name is just a name. But action is what make a person who they are. And you... you’ve got the nerve to ask the right questions. Don’t let TitanCorp’s rot change that. You’ve got a bright future if you stay you."

She wanted to speak, to push back, but no words came. And that, Raven decided, was answer enough.

For a moment, neither spoke.

"THE GOLEM IS COMING!"

That shout from the front broke the stillness, and Raven stepped away.

Fairyblade just stood there.

Inside, her thoughts twisted. I’ve become what I loathe.

A hypocrite.

The siege’s noise surged back into focus, the moment between them collapsing under the weight of reality. The war outside had not paused for their exchange—steel still clashed, spells still roared, and the shouts of commanders cut through the air.

Raven’s attention shifted seamlessly from the conversation back to the battlefield, every motion shedding the undercurrent of their duel in words. It was time to fight again.

The Fold’s last push slammed into the defense line. The final Golem crushed through the outer city barricade, entering the inner city.

It was already 23:50 server time — ten minutes until the event ended. The defenders had no firepower left; their siege weapons were wrecks, their spellcasters drained, their melee fighters fighting on pure instinct. They knew they couldn’t kill the Golem — they only had to hold it off.

The city street became a killing ground.

Players hurled themselves into the monster’s path, shouting over the din. "Hold them here! Every second counts!" one yelled as a comrade was swatted into a wall. Another voice cut through the chaos: "Four more minutes! That’s all we need!"

Even as they were crushed under its massive feet, death didn’t slow them. They respawned and sprinted back, weapons in hand, eyes set only on buying seconds. "Don’t let it reach the steps!" someone roared, rallying a line of battered melee fighters.

Healers abandoned the backline to drag bleeding allies away before the next stomp. Some didn’t make it back themselves. Oil was poured directly onto the Golem’s legs and ignited, flames licking up its frame. "Bury it in spells—blind its eyes!" an archer bellowed from a shattered balcony.

Arrows and spells came in ragged, desperate waves, each volley loosed with a hoarse battle cry. "It’s slowing—keep pushing!" A group of NPC guards charged in tight formation, only to be scattered by a single backhanded sweep.

Raven fought at the edge of the breach, both daggers flashing, weaving between the Golem’s swings and the Meridian Fold vanguard that pressed alongside it. "We fall here, the Sanctum falls with us!" came the last rallying cry as shields splintered and defenders gave their all to buy the final seconds.

The Golem reached the steps of the Sanctum — and froze mid-stride.

[THRONE WAR CONCLUDED — 00:00 SERVER TIME]

VELKARIN AXIS DEFENDED THE THRONE FROM INVASION

The battlefield stilled. Smoke hung in the air. Fold soldiers were statues in the firelight.

The defenders’ shouts turned into wild, breathless cheers. Blades lifted high, staffs slammed against the ground, spells bursting in the air like fireworks. Players hugged, some falling to their knees in relief, others laughing with the manic edge of those who had stared defeat in the face and survived. For a moment, the Inner Sanctum rang with joy.

Raven scanned the winning view before him with thousand thoughts. He didn’t smile.

Without a word, he turned and walked deeper into the Sanctum.

Ported out of the zone and logging out.