He felt fluctuations behind him. Turning around, he noticed the dungeon exit had opened.

Sora didn't rush to leave. Instead, he took a deep breath, raised his hand, and activated a skill.

A red glow pulsed around his fingertips as the first drop of Blood Essence formed, hovering in the air.

Unlike before, he didn't pour too much power into it. Just a fraction of what he could, keeping the energy condensed and controlled.

One drop. Then another. Then ten.

A hundred. A thousand.

A familiar voice scoffed in his mind.

"You're insane." Twelve muttered.

Sora barely acknowledged him. He continued. His focus sharpened as more and more drops formed before him.

Ten thousand. Fifty thousand. A hundred thousand.

Seventy clicked his tongue. "You say that like it's a bad thing. If you ask me, the crazy ones are Norj and Abbott. They knew what kind of power he had, and they didn't finish the job."

Sora's focus almost wavered, but he didn't stop.

Two hundred thousand. Five hundred thousand.

Each drop was meticulously refined, shaped, and stored.

Surprisingly, he barely felt the toll on his bloodline, nor the drop in his experience.

A million.

Finally, Sora stopped.

He breathed slowly, and wiped the sweat from his forehead. His level had dropped by one, his bloodline density had thinned slightly.

'It doesn't matter.' He thought, focused.

He opened the description of one of the drops and smiled.

[Human Blood Essence - Bloodline Quality: S. Level 50]

[Description: Extracted from player Ralph Eden. Can be consumed by beings with hot blood. Grants experience and part of the Human Bloodline.]

His bloodline research team had done well—pushing his quality from A to S. Not that it mattered right now.

Twelve peeked at the floating mass of essence. "...You're actually out of your mind."

Seventy snorted. "No, this is brilliant."

One Hundred-Seven crossed his arms. "A million? Are we going to die a thousand times each?"

Sora grinned. "Oh, that is up to you. Do whatever you want with them."

Twelve's annoyed voice was heard. "Don't tell them that..."

Sora held up a drop between his fingers, letting it shine in the dim lights of the dungeon.

"In the past, every time one of us resetted, we lost everything. Our levels. Our progress." He twirled the drop between his fingers. "But not anymore."

Sora chuckled. "Once we stamp these with my [Soul Stamp], they'll be ours forever. Every time we reset, we use a drop, hit level 50 instantly, and we're back in the fight before anyone even realizes we are back."

Twelve whistled again. "Everything is ready now. I'm itching for a fight. Give us our bodies back!"

Sora frowned. "I told you to stop whistling in my mind… Why are you so annoying?"

Seventy snorted. "Just hurry up, Boss. We need to go."

Sora rolled his shoulders. "Fine. Get ready."

He closed his eyes.

A pulse of Soul Power rippled outward, and the thousand fragments of his being stirred within him, their consciousnesses sharpening like blades prepared for battle.

His [Alter Ego] skill surged to life.

One by one, his soul split—again and again.

Each Alter Ego took form, bodies materializing from the very essence of his existence. Flesh and bone created from his will and mana. Strength, skills, and memories flowed back into them as they resurrected.

Twelve cracked his knuckles, grinning as he rolled his shoulders. "Finally. I was getting sick of sitting around in your head."

Seventy stretched. "Damn, it's been a while since I felt air on my skin. Let's hope this time, we actually get a challenge."

One Hundred-One slowly lifted his sword, his eyes burning with anticipation.

As the last body solidified, Sora took a final glance at his army. A thousand warriors. Each one forged from his power. Each one itching for a fight.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

He raised a hand, [Soul Stamp] appeared in his hand. One by one, the Blood Essence drops were marked—permanently binding them to their new owners.

The Alter Egos' started cheering.

'Time for the next step.' Sora thought.

He opened the streaming platform interface, and registered himself.

After a while, a notification appeared.

[Yes]

[No]

Sora hesitated for only a moment before selecting [Yes].

Streaming had proven to be an incredible tool for others, with gifts rolling in daily from viewers. If used correctly, it could become an invaluable resource.

'Humanity is in such a bad shape that our viewers are being bullied in every stream. Can't hurt to make our haters eat their words…'

But more importantly—

'Kara. I haven't found any other way to reach you. I hope you're watching.'

A new prompt appeared.

Sora thought for a few seconds before typing a few words.

As the countdown began, he turned to the excited idiots behind him.

"The stream starts in ten seconds," he announced.

The reaction was immediate.

Cheers erupted from his Alter Egos, some pumping their fists, others exchanging grins as if they were about to debut in a world-class event.

Sora sighed and shook his head before stepping forward, the portal at the dungeon's exit activating in response to his movement.

The moment he stepped through, the landscape changed. His feet landed outside the dungeon, fresh air washing over him as his senses adjusted.

Behind him, the cheers faded, and his Alter Egos followed suit, their enthusiasm replaced with focus.

Then... Every single one of them vanished.

Sora didn't wait.

He moved fast, warping straight to South Korea, appearing in the outskirts of Seoul.

The second he arrived, he released his [Psychic Hold] and the world trembled under his reach.

Every pulse of life. Every hidden power. Every lurking threat.

In an instant, he saw and felt everything. And so did everyone else. Because the moment he left the dungeon, he had [Mind Synchronization] activated.

The feedback from his skill was overwhelming.

Sora's consciousness was bombarded with information so vast and complex that for a split second, he froze.

'Still not used to this feeling. I tested it before, and it wasn't so bad. But they're all flying at extreme speed, and seeing completely different things, so it's harder on my brain. Damn it, I can't freeze now...'

Sora gradually recovered and focused on the information he got through his [Psychic Hold].

He had a general outline of the world, the unfiltered state of battlefields, struggling or hidden survivors, roaming monsters, and most terrifyingly—the absolute strongest beings alive who had immediately reacted to his scan.

But fear was a luxury he couldn't afford.

Instead of dwelling on the threat, he shared everything useful to his army.

Through [Mind Synchronization], his Alter Egos received the full scope of the world's situation—every powerhouse who reacted, every creature resisting, every enemy interfering with Sora's scan.

They didn't just see the world, they understood it.

They knew where to strike. How many of them were needed. Where the weakest links in the siege were. Where they could hurt their enemies. Where they could help their people.

And they moved fast. Very fast.

Sora felt the synchronized response as groups broke off toward critical locations.

Hundreds of them headed straight toward enemy territory, targeting those who had allied themselves against humanity. Others moved toward major human cities.

But all of them had the same goal. A coordinated massacre.

And just like Sora, the groups heading toward human cities arrived to find the exact same scenario.

The cities were all under siege.

-------------------------------------------------------------

As Sora stood near Seoul, he saw them. Hundreds of figures from the five allied races encircling the city.

Dark Elves. Spirits. Werewolves. Demons. Dwarves.

He immediately understood their strategy.

The low-level fodder patrolled the perimeter, baiting the trapped players inside to leave the barrier protection. The high-level elites stayed in the distance, lurking in ambush, waiting for something worth their effort.

Sora exhaled slowly, his gaze sweeping over the battlefield. His gaze shifted toward the strongest presence in the siege.

'A level 240 Dark Elf and a level 240 Demon.'

He could kill them both.

'There's no need for me to do it.' He thought, remembering his plan. Sora wasn't here to fight on the battlefield yet. Without a moment's hesitation, he moved.

Like a ghost, he slipped past the siege, warping through space before a single enemy could react. Some of his enemies felt a flicker of movement in their peripheral vision. But by the time they turned to check, he was already gone.

His [Liar's Mask] was active, and he only hoped no one in their ranks had the ability to see through it.

Reaching the city's entrance, he paid the fee to enter and disappeared behind the walls.

The moment he stepped inside, a small blinking light floated before him—a streaming drone, its lens focused on him.

Sora smiled and faced the camera.

"Hello, everyone. Welcome to my first stream."

"You might not have heard of me before… but I promise, you won't forget me after today."