In Ursus, the Russian players and the Asian players got along surprisingly well. After all, they shared a common enemy—the trolls led by the infamous "Hard-to-Endure" crowd. A number of high-profile YouTubers and streamers had become figureheads for that faction, and their antics—often for the sake of views and entertainment—had long since stopped surprising anyone.
For now, though, both sides maintained a fragile peace. Even if the occasional player crossed the line, they quickly retreated before things escalated. No one wanted to ignite an all-out war between factions over a small mistake.
Raph took a hearty bite of coarse black bread, chewing the tough crust to replenish his energy. Their supplies were running low again. In the past, they had been raiding patrol squads for provisions, but that couldn't last forever. His next target was a nearby noble's estate. If this raid succeeded, they wouldn't have to worry about food or drink for half a year.
"Boss."
A subordinate entered, knocking hurriedly before speaking, his voice trembling with excitement. "I saw the Pioneer today—near the border of the Holy Knight Federation's territory."
"The Pioneer…"
Raph wasn't unfamiliar with the name. When he had first chosen the Ursus race, he was tricked by a noble and forced into a mining camp, becoming an infected laborer. Proud and unyielding, he'd led his brothers in an escape, torching the noble's mine on the way out—which, of course, earned him a death mark from the patrol squads.
Back then, they were far too weak to fight the patrols. They had to split up to escape, and in the chaos, Raph lost contact with his closest friends. Alone and half-dead in the snow, he had met him—the Pioneer. If not for that man's bread and water, Raph would have died and respawned endlessly in the blizzard.
Afterward, the Pioneer left the area, offering aid to the infected players but asking for nothing in return—no loyalty, no repayment, nothing.
"Boss, I think the Holy Knight Federation has joined Tomorrow's Development," the subordinate continued, his words coming fast. "All those Asian patrol players were wearing standard Tomorrow's Development uniforms. And you know, those can only be obtained after officially joining. They're not sold anywhere."
"Joined Tomorrow's Development?"
Raph narrowed his eyes. "Call the old crew. We're having a meeting."
"Understood!"
The group Raph led was known publicly as War God's Bloodline, a name inspired by Kratos—the god-slayer himself. Their dream was much the same: to punch a hole clean through Ursus.
War God's Bloodline wasn't a single guild but a coalition of several large Russian guilds. Whenever major decisions had to be made, they voted collectively. After Raph explained the situation, the responses came quickly and firmly.
"I say we join. Tomorrow's Development's equipment is exactly what we've been dreaming of."
"I agree. Teams like Navi and Sprite Squad already joined—that means the faction benefits must be excellent. We couldn't join before because of our infected status, but if the Pioneer is accepting the Holy Knight Federation, then he might accept us too."
"But if we do join," another man said, stroking his beard thoughtfully, "will we have to leave this land behind? Ursus is full of prejudice against the infected. If we sign up with Tomorrow's Development, what if the Pioneer orders us to fight—to become his cannon fodder in some war?"
"It's too early to think that far ahead."
Raph's tone was low but steady. "The Holy Knight Federation doesn't look like they're planning to move out. You can doubt their motives if you like, but don't doubt the professional teams who've chosen to follow the Pioneer. They wouldn't believe in him if he wasn't worth it."
In the end, out of seven leaders, six voted in favor of contacting the Holy Knight Federation and seeking entry into Tomorrow's Development. Only one abstained, choosing to watch how things developed.
Meanwhile, the Holy Knight Federation—now reaping the rewards of joining Tomorrow's Development—was busier than ever. The players had been given equipment, profession upgrades, and generous rewards. The entire faction was working at full throttle: repairing the old "ruined" buildings, reinforcing the walls, and rushing through daily missions to earn points for their dream weapons.
The blacksmiths' and artisans' workshops had both posted "Closed for Maintenance" signs, as all production-class players were grinding through their crafting advancement quests.
Their leader, Mr. Han, barely had a moment to sit down. Though he had help, the overall planning and personnel management fell squarely on his shoulders. Leveling up had to wait—leadership came first. It was a heavy responsibility, but he bore it willingly.
These days, he even streamed his work sessions live—showing the world the infected players toiling tirelessly in the frozen north of Ursus, building something new with their own hands.
Just as Mr. Han was heading toward the city walls, the sharp cry of the alarm siren echoed again. He and several nearby players hurried up the snow-covered steps, joining the sentries already standing guard. Every player atop the wall was tense, their eyes fixed on the storm ahead as they raised the mid-sized crossbows they had ordered from Tomorrow's Development's store—drones had delivered them only recently.
Through the curtain of falling snow, a Vanguard-class player peered ahead and called out,
"It's Raph from War God's Bloodline—he's got a dozen men with him!"
Mr. Han raised his hand, signaling the others to lower their weapons, though everyone kept their guard up just in case.
Moments later, through the biting wind and thick snow, Raph and his companions approached the gate. At that distance, any sniper stationed beside Mr. Han could have easily turned them into pincushions. The Holy Knight Federation and War God's Bloodline weren't enemies, but caution was always necessary.
A system interface appeared before both men—a chat window hovering in midair. They began typing quickly, their hands moving over invisible keys. When Mr. Han opened the conversation log, he realized Raph had actually sent him a message earlier that morning. He'd simply been too busy to notice the notification.
After running the text through a translator, Mr. Han understood Raph's intent—he was here to join Tomorrow's Development. Or more precisely, to invite the Pioneer himself to visit their camp in person.
"Lower your weapons. Open the gate."
Mr. Han nodded to his men, then descended the wall and walked out to meet Raph. The two leaders clasped hands firmly in greeting, a silent sign of goodwill.
Raph made his stance clear—once both factions were part of Tomorrow's Development, they'd all be sharing the same table. Since War God's Bloodline and the Holy Knight Federation were already on good terms, why not take the next step and become true allies? Together, they could stand against the troublesome trolls led by those madman.
Mr. Han found himself agreeing. The three-way standoff between factions was finally shifting.
This wasn't Sparta and Athens at odds anymore—this was Sparta and Athens at Thermopylae.
Or better yet… we unite!
Raph followed Mr. Han through the bustling streets to the workshop—and froze the moment he entered. His jaw nearly dropped. Before him stood the Pioneer, orchestrating a grand operation: dozens of drones hovered and weaved through the air, assembling mechanical arms and conveyor systems in perfect synchronization. The newly completed lines were already mass-producing Tomorrow's Development equipment at a steady rhythm.
"We're still relying on coal power for now," the Pioneer explained calmly, his tone as smooth as his movements. "But with drones, we can remotely control the mining process—no more exposure, no more infection risk."
Raph stood there, mouth agape.
In his eyes, the Pioneer looked less like a man and more like a conductor—guiding an orchestra of machines in a magnificent, silent symphony.
When the Pioneer finally turned his head, he noticed the tall, broad-shouldered man standing nearby. That face… familiar. His eyes flicked up to read the ID hovering above Raph's head—and for a moment, he almost blurted out a curse of disbelief.
Raph.
In his previous life, Raph had still led War God's Bloodline. They'd sided with Talulah's Reunion Movement during the assault on Ursus cities. Countless PvP battles followed—in Lungmen, in Chernobog, everywhere. In the end, when Raph discovered Talulah's betrayal, he'd led his people out in anger.
That was all later, of course—but the memory was clear.
Whether or not Raph had joined Reunion 2.0 afterward, the truth remained: War God's Bloodline had once been a thorn in Rhodes Island's side.
"Adventurer," the Pioneer greeted warmly, stepping forward with a smile. "It brings me joy to see you again."
He vaguely remembered offering aid to this man once—a piece of bread, a sip of water. He hadn't expected fate to bring them together again like this.
Though he didn't speak Ursus, as an NPC the Pioneer could understand and communicate with players effortlessly.
Raph's eyes reddened. The big bear bowed deeply, voice thick with emotion.
"Pioneer, we have never forgotten the kindness you showed us."
Behind him, every War God's Bloodline player followed suit, bowing in unison.
Mr. Han, standing beside them, could only groan inwardly. Oh, great. This guy's trying to steal my spotlight! He's after the Pioneer's favor too, isn't he? Damn it!
"In truth," Raph continued earnestly, "we've come here to join Tomorrow's Development. I've heard that you wish to build a world where the infected and the uninfected can live side by side. I wish to lend you my strength—to walk that path under your leadership."
Mr. Han's mouth hung open. He couldn't understand a word of the Russian Raph was speaking, but somehow, the emotion behind it was enough to make him teary-eyed anyway. The Pioneer, meanwhile, wore the gentle expression of a proud father—which only made Mr. Han silently scream inside: What are you two even saying!?
Still, this was an unexpected gift for the Pioneer. With War God's Bloodline joining, both major Ursus-based player factions were now under his banner—a major victory by any measure.
He immediately began planning the next step: establishing factories and production lines in War God's Bloodline's town as well. It would streamline manufacturing across regions—like setting up an expansion base next to a rich resource field.
With infrastructure in place, everything else would follow.
Raph and his companions left with great satisfaction, having agreed to return in two days to escort their "General Secretary" to their settlement.
Mr. Han watched them go, his expression faintly resentful—like that of a forlorn housewife reluctantly seeing her husband off. He couldn't bear the thought of his Pioneer leaving, but there was nothing he could do about it.
According to the forums, Kazdel had now become half of Tomorrow's Development's backyard. Mr. Han sighed to himself—if only the Pioneer would extend his influence and territory into Ursus as well.
Besides, he too wanted to travel—beyond this endless frozen land—to see how other nations treated the Infected.
A week passed swiftly. Raph's group, the War God's Bloodline, officially joined Tomorrow's Development. Their faction became allies with the Holy Knight Federation, sharing map exploration data and frequently conducting joint exercises and missions.
Meanwhile, the Trolls had no idea what was happening. Unlike the united War God's Bloodline and Holy Knight Federation, the Trolls were a chaotic mess—thousands of small guilds locked in constant infighting, many of them formed around rival streamers. It was pure bedlam.
Even if they wanted to join Tomorrow's Development, Felix would have to think carefully—such a crowd might ruin the organization's hard-won reputation.
In the end, after saying farewell to Mr. Han and Raph, Felix and his team boarded a transport craft and flew northward.
"Ahh… Miss Skadi, Miss Platinum, Miss Degenbrecher, and Miss Loughshinny are truly dependable," Mr. Han sighed wistfully as he watched the aircraft vanish into the sky. These women had all contributed greatly to the camp's development in the past few days, making him secretly jealous of the players stationed in Lungmen.
He wondered when they would finally leave this desolate land. Both the Holy Knight Federation and the War God's Bloodline needed a turning point—an opportunity to move forward.
"Boss, where are we heading next?" someone asked.
"To the far north," Felix replied. "But be cautious this time—we're not going to adventurer territory, but into the lands of the native Ursus people."
He cast a sidelong glance at Platinum. "Adventurers and Ursus citizens treat us very differently. Don't expect the Infected there to smile at you."
"…Understood," Platinum nodded softly. "Don't worry, Boss—when the time comes, I'll protect you."
Felix didn't respond, only smiled faintly. It had been years since he'd last been here, and he wasn't sure if Yelena's camp was still in the same place. The area had no communication signal, but fortunately, visibility was high today, allowing him to easily recognize familiar landmarks—the cedar forest, the snow-covered mountains.
If his memory was correct, Yelena's camp was near the cedar woods.
The transport hovered briefly before descending, its landing skids touching the frozen ground. Felix's drones swarmed into the air, cloaked in stealth mode, as the group armed themselves and advanced on foot.
After several kilometers, they reached a small, desolate settlement. The villagers looked pale and weary, their expressions hardened by resentment and suffering. When they saw the group approaching, they showed cold hostility—though since Felix's team weren't Infected, they weren't immediately driven away.
Using his natural charm and practiced diplomacy, Felix managed to speak with a villager. From them, he learned that only a few villages remained in the area—and every month, a patrol squad came to collect "protection fees" and inspect for Infected. The villagers could barely feed themselves, and failure to pay meant a brutal beating.
Felix sighed heavily.
As he circled the outskirts of the village, his gaze caught a small graveyard in the distance. A young woman stood before a tombstone, lost in thought.
She had long, silver-white hair, and her weathered uniform was that of an old Ursus officer. A sword hung at her waist.
Sensing his approach, she turned to face him—her sharp black eyes filled with wary purpose.
The moment she perceived his nature, her brow furrowed slightly; she withdrew the hostility that had flickered to life.
"I am Talulah of the Reunion Movement," she said coldly. "Who are you?"
Felix met her gaze calmly. "I came to see what Reunion's resolve truly means."
In an instant, her instincts took over—she drew her blade, and searing flames burst forth around her.
She was—Talulah, The inscrutable leader of the Reunion Movement...