Online Game: Starting With SSS-Ranked Summons - Chapter 316

Chapter 316: Retaining order.
“Move, kid. Adults are talking.”

Mistake. Very big mistake.

Formicia’s commander appeared from directly behind them.

The rogues froze like statues, suddenly aware that their aggressive tactics had attracted deadly attention.

Arthur watched the scene unfold.

His eyes darted towards the entrance where a few people were complaining that they couldn’t enter.

Something was stopping them.

The building’s screening system worked exactly as intended, blocking true enemies while allowing problematic but salvageable individuals to enter.

They want guild membership genuinely. Their methods are flawed, not their motives.

Arthur did not bother dealing with those malicious people. They were all low level and if he sent a single summon of his, they would all turn into pixels.

However, had he done that. He would only lose reputation and gain nothing.

Killing small fry doesn’t change anything.

Arthur then left Gates and his subordinates to deal with all the chaos of recruitment and simply headed out of sight.

Arthur teleported out of the building and into the prison of Adam inside the village.

Adam sat motionless in the corner, back against cold stone. His eyes stared at nothing, pupils dilated to pinpricks. Drool gathered at the corner of his slack mouth. His body remained perfectly relaxed, muscles loose as overcooked pasta.

Pollen was sitting beside him, somewhat bored.

The plant’s crystal core pulsed with a rhythm, tendrils weaving lazy patterns in the stale air.

“Master!”

Bloom’s voice carried genuine excitement as Arthur appeared in the cell.

The greeting made Adam’s body twitch slightly—the first movement Arthur had witnessed.

Even deep in nightmare, some part of the lieutenant recognized that voice.

“Hello bloom, how’s everything been?”

Arthur approached the motionless figure,

glancing at Adam’s vacant expression.

“It’s been good, Master. I’ve been doing exactly what you instructed.”

Bloom’s tendrils curled with pride.

“I’ve kept him trapped in his nightmare for almost… a hundred years in his perception.”

A hundred years of torment compressed into hours. Scary, very scary.

“During those hundred years, I constantly cycled his suffering,”

Bloom continued with the enthusiasm of an artist describing their masterpiece.

“Major pain followed by minor relief, preventing complete mental collapse while maximizing psychological damage.”

Precise torture. No permanent damage.

“So constant cycles of agony and brief respite?”

“Yes, Master. Like waves against a cliff—each one wearing him down further while keeping the structure intact.”

Arthur nodded approvingly. Bloom’s understanding of psychological conditioning impressed him more each time they spoke.

Intelligence and cruelty. Deadly combination.

“You can maintain this effect without physical proximity?”

Bloom’s crystal core brightened with obvious pride.

“Of course, Master. I’ve already planted my seeds throughout his neural pathways. My pollen has spread through his entire system—respiratory, circulatory, nervous.”

Complete infestation. Total control.

“He can’t escape?”

“Never.” Bloom’s voice carried absolute certainty. “The only way for him to escape is for me to die.”

Arthur gulped audibly.

Monsters like Bloom represent the most dangerous threats imaginable.

Traditional enemies could be fought, defeated, killed. But Bloom’s victims faced something worse than death—eternal servitude if you attracted its attention.

No escape. No hope. No mercy.

Even as players, they were normally immune to permanent consequences through respawn mechanics, they still remained vulnerable to Bloom’s horror.

Death wouldn’t free them as Bloom would not kill them. Logging out provided no sanctuary as they were in combat mode. The pollen infected their very essence.

Worse than death. Worse than torture. Complete psychological possession.

Arthur studied Adam’s slack features, imagining the nightmare scenarios playing behind those vacant eyes.

A century of perceived suffering compressed into real-time hours. Memories twisted into weapons. Hope transformed into despair.

The perfect punishment for those who deserve it.

“Has he broken completely?” Arthur asked.

Bloom’s tendrils swayed thoughtfully. “Not completely. I’ve maintained just enough coherence to ensure continued suffering. Complete madness would defeat the purpose.”

Arthur nodded.

The only problem would be if his twelve hours of in-game time ended before the merge. Either way, his experience here should affect him in the real world too. He wouldn’t have the chance to escape.

The beauty of Bloom’s control lay in its permanence. Even if Adam’s session timer expired, forcing him back to reality, the psychological damage would follow.

Space folded around him as he teleported away from the underground prison. Reality reformed inside the mayor’s building, familiar walls welcoming him back.

Time for the next phase.

Arthur navigated toward Charles’s office.

His footsteps echoed against the wooden floors.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The pattern had become routine. Three measured strikes, pause, single follow-up.

“Enter,” came the immediate response.

Arthur pushed open the door to find the mayor already standing, papers scattered across his desk, forgotten in favour of proper respect.

Charles had grown accustomed to these visits, developing an almost supernatural ability to identify Arthur’s approach.

The knock pattern served as an early warning.

“Protector, I’m pleased to see you again.”

The mayor’s relief was genuine. Arthur’s presence meant protection, stability, and continued prosperity for Village #420.

Their partnership had transformed a struggling settlement into something he had never thought possible.

“Me too, Charles.” Arthur settled into the familiar chair across from the mayor’s desk. “We have something important to discuss.”

Charles nodded, gulping.

Important discussions with Fateless typically involved life-altering decisions for the entire village.

“The time approaches faster than anticipated.”

Charles paled slightly.

“How long?” Charles asked quietly.

“Hours.”

The admission hung between them like a death sentence. Everything they’d built, every improvement and expansion, would soon face the ultimate test.

“What do you need from me?” Charles asked finally.

The question carried total commitment. No hedging. No conditions. Just absolute trust in Arthur’s judgment.

Arthur’s smile held approval.

“In mere hours, I believe both realities will be attacked by the demons.”

The words dropped like stones into still water. Charles’s weathered face paled further, understanding the implications immediately.

Arthur leaned back, fingers steepled before him. “I’ve filled you in before about what’s coming. To be honest, our expansions have been slow.”

“Although we’ve improved our village, strengthened our soldiers and defences…” Arthur’s voice carried a grim assessment.