Online Game: Starting With SSS-Ranked Summons

Chapter 132 Chaos, The Legendary Sword!

Arthur tapped on Chaos's details, the katana glowing faintly in his hand. The moment the screen appeared, his sharp eyes scanned the text, but what he read made him stop dead in his tracks.

[Chaos Katana (Pseudo-Legendary)]

Arthur frowned. "Pseudo-Legendary? What does that even mean?" he muttered under his breath.

The description unraveled, revealing the story behind the blade, and his frown deepened as he continued reading.

Chaos had once been a Legendary weapon, forged in the fires of battle and drenched in the blood of countless demons. It had fought alongside its previous master, the knight Arthur had met, in their most desperate hour. Together, they had faced a demon so powerful that it had pushed both man and weapon to their limits. The katana had survived, but not without scars.

The text detailed how Chaos had been damaged in that fateful battle. Its legendary strength had been diminished, its brilliance dulled, and now it held only a fraction of its former power—an Epic-tier weapon at best. But what truly caught Arthur's attention was the next part.

Chaos still yearned.

The blade carried its own will, its own desires, and it burned with a thirst for vengeance. It longed to return to its former glory, to reclaim its legendary status, and most of all, to slaughter demons once more—just as it had in its prime.

Arthur's grip on the hilt tightened, his sharp eyes narrowing as he read the special effects of the weapon.

Chaos increased all of his attributes by 5% simply by wielding it. And for every demon it slew, it would increase those attributes by 0.1%. That bonus could stack up to a hundred times, meaning Arthur could gain a massive boost just by feeding the blade its desired prey.

But the special skill was what truly floored him.

Blood Drain.

The katana didn't just kill—it drank the blood of those it slew, using that lifeblood to slowly repair itself, inching closer to the Legendary weapon it once was.

Arthur exhaled sharply, the faint sound of Chaos humming in his hand as if reacting to his thoughts.

"A weapon that grows stronger with me. One that repairs itself through battle," Arthur muttered, his voice low but tinged with excitement. "This thing's alive in every sense of the word."

He tilted the blade slightly, the faint crimson veins along its edge glinting as though pulsing with life. Chaos seemed to resonate in his hand, its aura humming faintly, almost like a challenge.

Arthur smirked. "You're not just a weapon, are you? You're something else entirely."

The thought of wielding something so powerful—so full of potential—made his blood race. A weapon that shared his hatred for demons. A blade that could grow alongside him.

Arthur glanced at his reflection in the dark blade, the faint glow of the chamber casting eerie patterns across his face.

"Pseudo-Legendary for now, huh?" His smirk widened. "We'll see how long that lasts. With you, I'm going to carve my way straight to the top and slaughter all the demons."

The blade hummed louder, as if agreeing.

Arthur sheathed Chaos carefully, feeling its weight settle on his hip like an extension of his body. He knew this weapon wasn't just a tool—it was a partner. A living, breathing force that would grow stronger with every battle.

But amidst the excitement, one thought stood out, cutting through the swirl of possibilities like a sharp blade.

This insignia didn't just mean control over buildings and infrastructure—it meant control over people. Arthur's sharp eyes glinted as the realization settled in. Village #420 wasn't just a random outpost or a minor location. It was a starting zone, the spawning ground for thousands of players.

He'd experienced it firsthand—the steady trickle of new players arriving, wandering the streets, looking for quests, equipment, or guidance. And now? He had authority over all of it. New players, existing players—they would all fall under his jurisdiction. He could decide how resources were distributed, who had access to what, and how the village operated.

And that was just the beginning. Arthur's gaze darkened slightly as he thought further ahead.

The next wave of beta testers.

The global announcement had said there would be millions of players entering the game eventually, but they would be introduced in stages. When the next wave arrived, Village #420 would likely be one of the main spawning points again.

Thousands more would flood into the village, each one scrambling to get their bearings in this harsh new world. And standing at the centre of it all? Him.

But there was more to it.

His mind drifted back to the knight's words, the fragmented visions he'd seen during the trials. There was something about this village—something deeply significant.

The knight had seemed amused at the place being called a village, and the visions had shown it as a thriving hub before it was decimated.

Arthur's sharp eyes narrowed as he thought about the hidden trials and the seal on Apollyon.

"This place is important," he murmured, his voice tinged with curiosity. "I don't know why yet, but I'll find out."

The insignia wasn't just a symbol of power.

It was a key.

A key to uncovering this world's secrets, and the purpose of the demons that he had recently just met.

...

Arthur strode into the village, his boots crunching against the dirt road, but something felt off. The moment he passed through the gates, he could feel it—eyes following his every move.

The players in the streets didn't hide their stares, their glances filled with suspicion, and some, with thinly veiled malice.

Arthur frowned, his sharp gaze flicking over the crowd. "What's their problem?" he muttered under his breath.

His pace didn't falter, though. If they wanted to stare, let them. He had no time to waste. He'd returned to the village for one reason: to meet the village chief. The man still held some semblance of control over the place, but that would change soon. Arthur needed to set new rules—his rules—and for that, he needed to make his authority clear.

As he moved through the village, though, the tension in the air grew thicker.

Arthur's frown deepened.

Then, as he turned a corner, he spotted a familiar face—or rather, a group of familiar faces.