The server was still young - barely a month and a half old - when the world learned what darkness truly meant.
The Dark factions ruled everything worth ruling. Chimera cities spread like scars across the map, efficient, merciless, inevitable. The Light was fading already. Elves were rare now - whispers of an older age, clinging to forests that shrank by the day. Everyone knew how this story usually ended.
That was when Apofish found it.
A Ruin, buried deep in hostile lands.
Not an ordinary one.
A level 7!
Veterans from older servers would’ve stopped breathing for a second. Some had played for years and never seen one. On this server, it was the first one ever. Too early. Too strong. A thing that simply should not exist yet.
Apofish scouted it carefully. He was brave - braver than his army allowed. The numbers didn’t lie. Alone, he had no chance. Luckily for him, hero was nowhere to be seen. If a hero guarded that Ruin, it could wipe entire armies and still stand.
So the Elf did something rare in those days.
He asked a Chimera for help.
When the message reached me, I understood immediately what this meant. Not just loot. Not prestige. This was history trying to happen early - and asking whether we were ready.
I was Chimera, born of the Dark, forged for conquest. And yet… this wasn’t about Dark or Light. This was about whether the server would remember its first legend.
We moved carefully. No fanfare. No alliance-wide calls. Just preparation, timing, and trust between two players who - by all logic of the meta - should have been on opposite sides.
The Ruin loomed like a wound in the land.
When the attack began, it was brutal. The defenders fought like something ancient had awakened too soon. Losses mounted. Every combat report felt like a gamble with everything we’d built since server started. If there was a hero there, it would be a quick fight. Should you call it that.
But Chimera resilience met Elven precision.
Wave after wave, the Ruin weakened. The impossible slowly became possible. And then, finally, it broke.
The level 7 Ruin fell.
No global announcement could truly capture it. Some players didn’t even believe it at first. A Ruin that rare, defeated that early, on a server ruled by darkness - by a Chimera and an Elf fighting side by side.
For a brief moment, the Light wasn’t gone.
Even now, when people talk about how dominant the Dark factions became, there’s always a pause. A memory. The story of the first level 7. The one that appeared too early. The one that should’ve crushed anyone who challenged it.
And how it didn’t.
Because Apofish dared to ask.
And I chose to answer.
https://prnt.sc/ww9kRyLX0Z-p
Stories from the battle:
Commander:We drafted a plan, we shall attack from both north & south. The south ally did not have a large army, so they gave their carriers pitchworks and torches and positioned them to look big. Meanwhile, the army of the north was ruthlessly closing. Spies confirmed our previous intel - no hero is home. Knowing our advantage, we made a half-circle formation around their positions. Our allies occupied neighbouring forests, to make em look fully armed, so monsters would have nowhere to run. Slowly, the circle tightened, until we connected with Apofish's army. By then, monsters knew their days are over and their richies ours. But being monsters, they showed no fear. The battle went exactly as planned. We spent a lots of time in preparations, so that battle itself could end in round one. Now, if you excuse me, I have an urgent after-battle meeting and I don't want to make my wine wait.
Random soldier#1: Gotta tell ya, mate... when bossman said we're chargin' a level 7... a bloody seven... me an' the lads almost turned right back around. I seen that big ugly fella once before. Swings that thing - what even is it, a tree? Do trees grow that big? Anyway, as I was sayin', when he swings it, people go flyin'. I don’t like flyin'.
We were scared. Proper scared.
Then battle comes. Bossman has all em shiny fancy trinklets, we didn't even break a sweat.
Random soldier#2:
Let me tell ya, bossman rides up all shiny and loud, all them glowy trinkets hangin' off him. Says in that big hero voice, "Stand firm! No hero! Expect riches! Week of beer for every sword that tastes blood!"
He said more stuff. Somethin’ about destiny. And investments. And artifacts doin’ their magic thing. I dunno. I stopped listenin’ after "week of beer".
Next thing I know, we charge. I’m yellin’, probably cryin’ a bit, can’t say. Then BAM! Bigga monster jumps on me. We poked ‘im. A lot. But I ain' gonna lie, that hurt. Some healer earned their wage.
When I look around, not one of us dead. Not even Greg, and Greg trips over flat ground.
Anyway - holds up sword, still sticky - See that? That’s beer for a week, that is.
Gonna be a good week.
Not sure if that image is gonna work properly, but added link directly below that, just in case