Legendary Broken Player - VRMMORPG-Chapter 699 - The Burning Eye of the End (Full-Length)

The massive magic circle floating high above was eerily similar to the one that had summoned the meteor earlier. Its glow cast an oppressive light over the city and the battlefield, stretching across the horizon.

It was a sight that made hearts feel as if they had stopped beating, an oppressive weight pulling at their very souls. The sheer magnitude of it, paired with the lingering destruction below, seemed to snuff out any remaining hope.

What about the city’s remaining inhabitants? Were there any survivors left, or had the destruction claimed them all?

On the battlefield, the panic was so real, though it felt different now—less frantic, more drained. People moved sluggishly, their energy spent, their spirits shattered. Some didn’t even react to the looming threat, perhaps too exhausted to muster fear.

Broken directed Beebot to keep moving, the crawling carriage skimming over rubble and destruction as he searched for the rest of his companions. They reached the West Gate, where a figure sprinted toward them from a distance. As the figure came closer, it stopped directly in front of the carriage, blocking its path.

It was Fokil.

The blacksmith dwarf stood firm, his gaze meeting Broken’s. Without hesitation, Ivana jumped down from the carriage and ran to him, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

"You survived," Fokil said.

"Mr. Fokil, I’m so glad you’re alive too," Ivana replied.

Broken approached the dwarf, who turned to look at him.

"You did well, kid," Fokil said.

"Thanks, sir," Broken offered a weary smile and nodded back, the weight of everything still pressing heavily on his shoulders.

One by one, more familiar faces began to appear. Optimus arrived first, followed by Elincia, who soared toward them with her crackling blue aura flickering faintly. She was battered but alive.

Then came Kingsley, Goldrich, Jovina, Starfall, Charmelyn, Skywarden, Booba, and even Frostedge. All of them converged at the same point, gathering together. They were bruised, battered, and exhausted—but they were alive.

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As the group caught their breath, their eyes instinctively turned upward, drawn again to the massive magic circle above.

No one spoke. The only sounds were the distant cries of demons running wild, players shouting for their companions, and the faint rumble of collapsing structures. Chaos reigned all around them.

And then...

The magic circle began to shift. Its patterns glowed even brighter, twisting and contorting as though something massive was forcing its way through.

The glowing lines split apart— deliberately cleaved the magic circle in two.

The halves pulled away, revealing something far more terrifying than anyone could have imagined.

A massive, singular eye.

It burned with a fire, its gaze seemingly piercing through the entire battlefield and the city below. For a moment, no one moved, no one spoke. They were frozen in fear, their minds unable to process the sheer horror of what they were seeing.

[In the presence of the King, the supreme ruler of Hell, all must bow.]

The notification appeared, but its weight was more than just words. All across the battlefield, the demons fell to their knees in unison, bowing to the enormous eye as if compelled by an invisible force.

[Anyone below Level 300 will have their weight capacity increased by 90% of their total capacity.]

Suddenly, players and NPCs alike crumpled to the ground, struggling under an unbearable weight that seemed to drag them down.

[Anyone below Level 300 will experience a 30% reduction in stats.]

[Anyone below Level 300 will take damage over time: 2% of Health per second.]

The notifications continued to pour in, each one striking like a hammer. Those who had managed to stay on their feet moments ago now fell, clutching at the ground as if trying to resist an invisible force pressing them down.

Cries of despair filled the air:

"What… What is this? I can’t move!"

"It’s too heavy! I… I can’t even breathe!"

"Our stats… they’re gone! I feel so weak!"

"How do we fight something like this?!"

"I… I can’t do this anymore. This is impossible!"

"We barely survived the meteor, and now this?!"

Around them, hope seemed to drain from the battlefield like water spilling from a cracked vessel. Faces were pale, bodies trembling under the crushing weight. Even those who had been so determined moments ago now wore expressions of dread and defeat.

[Elincia]: "Is that… King Bael?"

[Freya]: "Judging by how he refers to himself, it’s most likely King Bael, the ranked number one named demon. The wielder of the Gluttony Champion."

[Booba]: "Damn it, could this get any worse?"

[Goldrich]: "Looking at how he’s only showing his eye, it seems like he can’t fully manifest here. That’s probably as far as he can go."

[Jovina]: "What the hell are you saying, old man?"

[Freya]: "I think the meteor Demian tried to drop earlier was likely part of a ritual. With that meteor, it’s clear he doesn’t want the Dissidia Kingdom for himself. He wants to destroy it."

[Booba]: "That bastard. I feel like tearing his eye out of its socket myself."

[Freya]: "If Demian’s goal with the meteor was to kill the people of Dissidia, then it’s possible they were meant as sacrifices for a kind of ritual."

[Goldrich]: "So the ritual failed, and now King Bael is furious, stuck peeking at us from Hell? Khi khi khi."

[Jovina]: "Why are you laughing in a situation like this, old man?!"

The massive eye blinked slowly.

The battlefield fell into an eerie silence, broken only by the faint crackle of flames and the labored breaths of those struggling to move under the overwhelming weight.

And then, a voice.

Deep, resonant, and impossibly vast, it filled the space, as if the very heavens were speaking. But surprisingly, it was calm, and measured.

"Your struggles, your defiance… how pitifully small they appear before me."

The eye narrowed slightly, its gaze sweeping across the battlefield.

"This place, this kingdom, this fragile cradle of fleeting ambition—it was doomed the moment it came into existence. Its light, its hope, its people… all of it, a mere spark waiting to be extinguished."

The voice grew colder.

"I do not destroy out of anger or whim. No… this is inevitability. Your existence is a flaw, a stain upon the grand design. And so, I will purge it, as easily as snuffing out a candle."

A flicker of fire blazed within the eye.

"Look around you. Your allies, your friends… Do you feel the cracks forming? The bonds breaking? You fight, you endure, but for what? To delay the inevitable? How fragile you are. How weak."

The magic circle above began to twist and pulse. The sky itself seemed to darken further, consumed by the shadow of the massive presence before them.

"Yunatea will fall. Your defiance amuses me, but it will not change the outcome. The weight of my will is absolute, and you… are nothing."

The battlefield trembled under the force of his words, and despair seeped deeper into the hearts of those who heard them.

[Chase406]: "Bro is literally monologuing like a Shakespearean villain. Someone throw a tomato!"

[bloodthorn]: "’You are nothing.’ Bruh, we KNOW. No need to rub it in!"

[Shadow_Monarch_48]: "’Purge the world’—cool story, dude. Can you let us finish lunch first?"

[Marvin_Delawder]: "Can we all agree we are NOT logging in tomorrow? Like, let’s just pretend this didn’t happen."

[b_duty]: "Petition to ban whoever thought summoning an eye the size of a city was good game design."

[Baffen]: "Bold of him to assume we haven’t already given up emotionally."

[bukli_ajrullai]: "Raise your hand if you also feel like a ’flaw’ in the grand design. Just me?"

[dan_greany]: "Did he just say ’snuff us out like a candle’? At least he’s poetic about our deaths."

[Claire_D_7176]: "Okay, team meeting—who’s got an idea for surviving this? No? Cool, cool."

The battlefield was frozen, not just by fear but by the sheer weight of uncertainty.

What was everyone doing? Waiting? Hoping this was some kind of nightmare? Or was this just another overly dramatic monologue from the supposed main villain of this grand game?

Surely the King—the Supreme Ruler of Hell—wasn’t planning to descend now, right? It was too soon for something like this. This couldn’t possibly be the endgame.

The game was only three years old! The developers clearly wanted to keep making money, so why throw the ultimate villain into the mix this early?

Why now?

Why?!

Damn it, there were still plenty of people who just wanted to have fun playing this game. Not everyone signed up for battles like this! This war had dragged on too long already.

People’s resources were drained. Their spirits were spent. The battlefield wasn’t full of warriors ready to fight—it was full of players silently begging for it all to end.

Someone—anyone—please, end this war!

That was the overwhelming thought shared by the majority of players and NPCs alike.

And then...

It appeared.

A massive, no, but super massive palm—ethereal and made entirely of flame—materialized in the air above them. Its sheer size was incomprehensible, blotting out the already dimmed sky.

And then it fell.

The palm descended toward the earth with a terrifying speed, like a god swatting an insect from the ground. The air crackled with unbearable heat, and the weight of it pressed against everyone’s chests, forcing them to their knees.

"Hell… this is the end."

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"Fuck this, I’m out!"

"What do we do?! What CAN we do?!"

"Run? Hide? It doesn’t matter! We’re done!"

"Someone… anyone… stop this!"

Panic spread, but it was too late. The flaming palm came crashing down, and for a moment, it felt like everything—everything—was about to end.