World Domination System

Tall's eyebrows were furrowed while he moved through the forest, looking for his teammates so that they could group up and implement the plan to take down the King of Lanthanor.

The problem was…that he had been doing this for 10 minutes without any success.

Typically, Legacy Battle's had medium-sized battlefields where anyone would be able to traverse the area from one end to the other in the matter of a few hours.

However, no one would ever be dumb enough to do that as it would make them prime targets for the roaming Champion-level powerhouses charged with eliminating them from the competition.

Even though that was the case, Tall had never had difficulty in finding his teammates in the previous battles. He would simply have to use the locator trinket to find out their location, and then he would head there directly. The rule was that the roaming Champions would be unleashed upon the battlefield a half hour after all the Fighters were teleported into it, and by the time that grace period ended, he would often have reunited with almost all of his team.

This time, though…the trinket wasn't working.

Clearly, the changes announced weren't the only ones that had been decided upon by the Council of Elders.

Already, he understood that it might be practically impossible to trap the King in and take him out.

Initially, Tall had had mixed feelings regarding the guy. He had seemed shrewd, and also quite powerful.

The image of him blasting a Champion into oblivion was one that was branded into almost all of the Sect members.

That was mainly the reason why he had carried out that plan of baiting him and his friend to fight with them by taking them to the village and letting them experience an insult that would make any man's blood boil.

Tall had only been half-confident that it would work, as, after all, not all men and women were like the Fighters of the Fortress who needed to go to the village regularly if they didn't wish to go mad due to all the torturous training that they had to undergo without any breaks whatsoever for years on end.

After Tall had found out that the King had been oblivious to it, he had realized that his suspicion had been right: the King was already a mature person who would not be swayed by such things. That, of course, had made him wish that he would be on his side even more.

However, all that had changed after that speech at the Challenge Board.

Tall had begun to regret ever approaching the guy, even though he had felt that something was off all during that speech. The one he had been seeing looked like a completely different person, but Tall had had no option but to discard that doubt when he and his group began to get attacked for associating himself with that guy.

All in all, right now, he was just glad that they had been able to clear up that 'misunderstanding' using the incident in the library.

Even for a moment, Tall hadn't felt bad about going back on his word like that. His focus was different: he was one of the 'Unnamed', and every night, he would dream about the day when he would be able to use his family name again.

As Fighters, they all prided themselves on their personal strength and, in most cases, honor.

No one knew from where it had begun. But this theme of honor, and the glory of being able to use one's own name had engulfed the whole Fortress, to the point where there were almost no underhanded schemes or method used using fights.

Even the trainers and more powerful sect members had taken on this identity, as it was something they could use to set themselves apart from the members of the other Sects.

And even the other Sects admired the members of the Fortress for this reason.

Tall didn't believe in that. He was in the minority, who were prepared to use all means available to win.

However, because the rest of the sect insisted on 'fair fights', he could only fight in that way.

Even the Legacy Battle was the same. Groups would fight against other groups, and there were almost no instances of factions betraying or backstabbing others in order to achieve victory. Those that did would often be disgraced, and targeted by all others.

Tall had studied this long and hard.

And after a lot of deep thought, he had understood something.

They were all Fighters, who were extremely weak against Mages in normal circumstances.

The majority of Fighters were Warriors, so although that didn't stand true when one reached the Champion realm, these Warriors were concerned about their reputation.

In the frequent Inter-Sect battles that took place, Fighters would always place last in contests or fights that didn't place restrictions, such as free-for-alls or battle royales.

So…this whole thing about honor was so that Fighters would have something to tell themselves when they lost.

Regret was a powerful thing. If even the tiniest regret that they could only be Fighters was born, then it could be said that one's path to greatness would be cut off right at that instant.

So, when a Fighter was picked off from a distance by a Mage, they would say that it wasn't a 'honorable' fight.

When a Mage used spells to stop Fighters from advancing to reach an object crucial to winning a contest, they would say that the Mage hadn't fought 'honorably'.

Oh, and if someone said that in the real world, there wouldn't be honorable fights, then weaker Fighters would shrug it off by saying that they would never enter a situation where they might lose in the first place.

True, the stronger Fighters knew the truth: that they were weak, and that they could only hope to shore up their weaknesses using some or the other methods.

Yet…the others were more content with hiding behind this veil and attacking anyone who dared to try to pierce it.

Of course, Tall thought that that was all bullsh*t, but he couldn't do anything about it.

The past 5 Legacy Battles had gone on without any surprises. Groups from different factions would fight. Losing groups might retreat for reinforcements. Winning groups would press on to cover more area so that others wouldn't have a chance to hide from the Champions. And the strongest group would win, which was followed by the strongest Fighters being selected.

Tall's prediction was that this one would be the same.

Looking up, Tall tried to use the sun to estimate the direction he should go in, but he was interrupted by a loud sound that echoed throughout the forest.

And as he heard it and understood what it was…his jaw dropped, and he froze right where he stood.

…

Meanwhile, the Chief and the Head were seated on two luxurious chairs on a floating pavilion above the forest where the Legacy Battle was taking place.

Around them, the other members of the High Council were also present. Although quite a few were still overseeing their duties of protecting the continent, more than half of all the Heroes of Angaria were present here in the form of clones.

After all, no one would want to come with their original bodies and offer up such a juicy offering to the Church.

After arriving, each and every Hero had respectfully gone to the Chief to greet him, as they all knew about his identity and his power.

The Chief accepted them all with a gracious smile on his face, which made them puzzled.

In almost every Legacy Battle, they would be witness to most of the Fighters of the Fortress taking part in tame battles which did not echo the initial objective behind this battle at all.

Still, they would spectate, while making fun silently, which always resulted in the Chief sitting in his seat with a neutral, or even, at times, an irritated expression on his face.

Why was he smiling now?

The Head had asked the same right after they had all been seated.

And in reply, the Chief had said, "Just wait and see."

Curious, the Head had remained silent, although he had had an inkling of why the Chief looked so happy.

As the Battle began, most of the Heroes were bored. They were only here because they had to pay respects to the Head and the Fortress Chief, and they had no interest in watching a few puny Fighters play at being post-apocalyptic survivors.

Some of them were mildly interested, though, as they had heard the rumors that the Champions this year would be different.

However, as it was still the grace period, they were all just looking around with bored expressions on their faces.

Yet, suddenly, a commotion was heard from the pavilion in front of them.

It wasn't just the Heroes who had come here from other Sects. A few top disciples had also made their way over, and they had all been seated in a different pavilion in front of them.

Hearing this, the Heroes were about to admonish them, but they paused when they noticed that all of these disciples were pointing down, at a specific spot.

Curious, they, too, focused their attention there, and a very peculiar sight graced their vision, they blinked, as their minds didn't let them believe that what they were seeing was real.

One by one, the Heroes noticed this anomaly in the battlefield and followed it with attentively.

Only one Hero among them, who was shrouded in darkness, looked like he wasn't surprised at all…and the reason behind that, was that he had expected nothing lesser from the man whom he was bound to.

Looking forward to seeing gobsmacked expressions on all these haughty Heroes, he settled in, watching the show that had begun to unfold.

…

Walking up to a tree, Elanev leaned on it while he grit his teeth, enduring the pain that came from his entire body, as if it was constantly being put through a grinder.

Blood began to appear in his mouth as he bit down too hard, but compared to the pain that he was already enduring, this was nothing. In fact, he even enjoyed it, as it let him know that in this world, there also existed pain that wasn't of the magnitude that he was being subjected to all day, every day.

"Just one more day, boy. And then, you'll…"

"Shut the f*ck up."

For once, the old man obliged, which made Elanev shake his head and walk forward.

He wanted to catch up with Daneel, but weirdly, the locator trinket that he had found in his room along with a few instructions wasn't working. He had headed there before coming here, but he had missed Daneel as he had already set off.

Taking a few deep breaths, he wondered what he should do. For their plan, finding each other wasn't necessary, but it still might be best to group up.

Just as he was about to decide, a resounding voice from somewhere close by startled him.

"LISTEN UP, YOU MONGRELS! UNLIKE ALL OF YOU COWARDLY MUTTS, I AM A KING WHO STANDS ON MY WORD! I SAID I WOULD TAKE YOU ON, SO HERE I AM! COME AT ME!"

A smile coming on his face despite the pain, Elanev ran forward, as he could tell that his younger brother was close by.

Sure enough, not even a minute later, he came upon a clearing in the middle of which a throne was present.

Yes, it was a Throne, but it was built…out of the bodies of 15 or so Fighters who all had hammer marks on their heads.

In fact, they were just piled onto each other, but anyone seeing it would get the impression that it was a Throne due to the majesty of the person sitting on top of them.

With a smug smile, the King of Lanthanor waited to take on the Fortress, just like he had written on the Challenge Board.