Divine Glitch: I Regressed With Endgame Knowledge

The Eastern Summoning Tower had become a boiling cauldron of activity, and tension was spreading through the surrounding lands. Out in the field, Alliance of Light and Dark Horde players could no longer hunt monsters together in uneasy peace. They now kept to their own, moving in wary clusters and watching the other faction with openly hostile eyes.

What had once been a neutral zone was turning into a battlefield. Skirmishes flared up constantly between Alliance and Horde, each one feeding the next. The forums were flooded with battle reports, each one fanning the flames of conflict across the Arid Plains.

Calls for reinforcements from the Eastern Summoning Tower were drawing hundreds of replies. On the top floor, the Alliance of Light defenders had held out for more than half an hour without letting the Dark Horde breach their lines. That stand inspired unaffiliated Alliance players to rally friends and make the march to the tower, some bringing guildmates with them.

When word spread that the famous Featherlight was among those trapped inside, the situation changed entirely. The Ironblood Covenant and other major guilds took notice. Horde guilds began converging on the tower in force, eager to bring down Featherlight and claim the prestige that came with it.

Ryan, standing among the defenders, realized he had become a prize worth hunting. He was like bait dangled in the open, drawing in every guild hungry for fame.

More and more players poured toward the tower, and Ryan quickly understood that he wasn't the only one pushing for open war between the factions. Others were stirring the pot as well, spreading word of the siege far and wide. Some were even rumored to have taken limited-time quests to hunt down unaffiliated players, turning the region into a frenzy of suspicion and bloodshed.

He had no idea how many Horde players he'd personally killed. A glance at his combat log showed over two hundred thousand damage dealt, which made him catch his breath. He'd taken over four hundred thousand in return, which was less than he expected—he had guessed the gap would be at least four times his output, but it was barely double.

The tanks shielding him kept changing; every time one fell, another stepped in. The current one looked familiar—maybe the third time Ryan had seen him that day.

The slaughter was relentless, and Ryan's honor points were climbing fast. He was already sitting at four thousand. One more push and he could afford the rank of Sergeant. It was hard to believe that only a few days ago, during the battles at Blood Gorge, he'd scraped together two thousand points just to make Corporal. Now he'd nearly doubled that in less than an hour.

Moonlight Beauty, positioned just behind him, couldn't stop chuckling. With only a dozen members in Ryan's party, every kill yielded far more honor than the massive forty-man raid groups scattered across the battlefield.

The fight was intoxicating, but Ryan's eyes kept drifting to his equipment status. The durability was down to less than ten percent. At this rate, in another two minutes, his gear would start breaking. None of it was particularly rare, but letting it shatter here felt like throwing it away.

Nearby, the summoning orb flickered back into existence, only to be smashed apart almost instantly by bored melee fighters. Moonlight Beauty strolled over and struck it a few times herself, helping to finish the job.

Some Horde players, determined not to leave empty-handed, revived on the top floor. They ignored the healers entirely. Instead, they waited for the Alliance melee to strike the orb, then joined in for a few hits before going down with a grin—once the orb shattered, they'd still get credit for completing their quest, even if it cost them their lives.

However, a few Dark Horde players refused to go quietly. Instead of rushing the orb, they would respawn near the healers when the melee fighters were distracted, swinging wildly in hopes of taking a few down out of spite.

Luckily, the nearby ranged fighters were paying attention. Arrows, bolts, and spells tore through the attackers before they could cause serious damage. Without that cover fire, at least half the dozen healers would have been lying dead on the floor.

If the healers went down, Ryan and the tanks holding the line at the front would be as good as finished. The thought alone was enough to jolt some of the wandering melee players back to their senses. Angry shouts rang out, ordering them to return to formation. Slowly, the fighters tightened their perimeter around the healers, patrolling the upper floor for any Horde players trying to sneak back in through resurrection.

Ryan's eyes kept flicking to his equipment panel. His durability bar was sinking fast, and the creeping anxiety was hard to ignore.

"Our reinforcements are here!"

Moonlight Beauty was still stationed behind him. After the long fight, she'd grown a bit relaxed, even browsing the forums between casts.

"Reinforcements?" Ryan asked.

Nonsense was drenched in sweat, his breathing ragged. The constant cycle of Horde players respawning, charging the healers or the orb, and getting cut down again had the melee forces running nonstop. He looked ready to collapse.

"They've formed more than ten teams," Moonlight Beauty reported, scrolling through the latest posts. "Easily over a thousand people. They're almost at the base of our tower." She tapped her screen, sending over a few pictures of the swelling Alliance force.

Ryan's lips curved into a grin. "Like fish in a tank."

Over a thousand Dark Horde players were crammed on the tower's staircase. Their escape route was blocked from below by the incoming Alliance forces, and their advance was stalled by Ryan and the tanks up top. The outcome was inevitable.

If fortune turned against them, they'd be corpse-camped into oblivion.

Not all of the Horde were foolish. A few recognized the hopelessness of their position immediately. With the top and bottom sealed, the only way out was back to town. They reached for their Hearthstones without hesitation, vanishing one after another.

As soon as someone saw the escape working, more followed. In the chaos, the retreat snowballed—players saw others blink out and instinctively pulled out their own stones.

The center of the horde began to thin, and the sight rattled those still engaged in the fight. One by one, they joined the exodus, until the once overwhelming mass had collapsed in on itself.

When the dust settled, only about two hundred Dark Horde corpses were left sprawled across the top floor.

It was over.

Ryan stepped back from the front line, handing his position to a freshly revived tank. After exchanging quick farewells with nearby allies, he turned to leave. His equipment was hanging on by a thread—one more exchange and half of it would be nothing but broken scraps.