The last rays of daylight receded from the horizon, and the colors of twilight painted the western half of the sky, while deep night controlled the other half.

The group had always been aware of the Celestial Flash’s movements. Of the two groups that escaped from Rakab, the Flash was the more overt one. They pillaged and slaughtered the country without remorse. Just that morning, refugees from a small town on the river Yve arrived in Leone and complained to the Magistrate about the threat, in the wake of their ruined town. The Adventurer’s Guild increased the rewards with each such report, and went to extraordinary measures to recruit a party to put them down.

Trained elemental birds visited each adventurer in the vicinity with the rank of Gold and higher, including Nissa and Fang, delivering a message that reported the general location of the Flash and urged them to consider taking the bounty.

However, none of the adventuring parties that went after the Flash have been successful. They have all been slaughtered. If the group had the ability to visit Leone and spend time in any of the inns or taverns, they would know exactly what happened to these adventurers. But they didn’t. All they knew was that this was a new breed of goblinoid that was closely related to lightning.

They all thought it. In fact, they all knew it. This was Aren’s doing. It wasn’t that uncommon for short-lived races to change and adapt this quickly, especially after defeat. That is why goblinoids were one of the nemesis races on this continent. If they weren’t all put down, not only did the survivor’s tactics and strategy improve, but their bodies could change as well.

That evening, the group followed the trail of the Celestial Flash and ended up in the ruined town of Trist, the latest conquest of the Flash which was on the river Yve, one of the major trading routes of the Leone city-state.

Nissa and Damien confirmed that the town was abandoned. If there were any survivors, they had long fled the town, and the goblinoids appeared to have moved on. The two scouts pattern-searched in a mile radius and could find no underground tunnels or any place where the goblinoids might have made their temporary resting place, but the trail had gone cold. There were no tracks leading out of the town, or at least, in the darkness, the group couldn’t spot them.

Not even an hour after the group decided to make a stop in the inn of Trist, by the name of White Arrow, a problem emerged.

Fang was in the middle of explaining party-fighting tactics when Damien’s message alerted the group.

[Group] Damien: Spotted movement towards the south east. About sixteen strong. Moving towards our position.

Fang’s expression twisted into an ugly grimace, with a hint of satisfaction. Fang was a simple kind of person, Aren realized that. He was open and easy to read. He was satisfied, because he had just finished explaining how fighting other organized adventurer parties worked — in short, kill the mages first — but there was little they could do against a force that was sixteen strong. That was nowhere close to a fair fight, even if they had the element of surprise.

Fang’s eyes suddenly widened. “Oh?” he asked out loud. It was in response to Damien’s next message.

[Group] Damien: They aren’t adventurers. They are orcs!

It was a wake-up moment for the entire group. Everyone present rose to their feet — everyone except Nissa and Damien who continued scouting the surroundings — and grabbed their equipment.

“It can’t be the Flash. They went north,” Fang said.

Estella reached into her satchel and produced the scroll the elemental bird brought from the Adventurer’s Guild. “The other ones maybe?” she asked, and scanned the scroll. “Lightning Bringers?”

Fang paced around the room impatiently, deep in thought. “It can’t be,” he whispered. “Or can it?”

“What are you thinking, Fang?” Aren asked.

Fang glanced at Aren from the corner of his eye, without turning his head. “The Lightning Bringers and the Celestial Flash split up when they escaped Rakab. They have been going in circles — more like a spiral — ever since then, sweeping away towns like a hurricane,” he explained. “Wherever the Flash is, the Bringers should be on the opposite side if they continued moving like that.”

“So either they are regrouping, or this is the Flash coming back, or it’s a third group?” Estella asked, glancing out the window briefly, and after seeing nothing, pulling the curtain over to block light from seeping out and giving away their position.

“None of those options are good for us,” Fang said. “If they are regrouping, that means we’ll end up fighting both groups. If the Flash is coming back, that means they knew we followed them and trapped us in here. The last possibility is the same as the first one.”

Aren checked his utility belt. It seemed like a tough fight was inevitable. He didn’t plan on this going down this way, but it was quickly coming do or die time. He had six throwing knives, a smoke bomb, a light stone from Cassandra and some healing powder.

[Group] Nissa: I thought something was odd. There’s another group to the north and west. Fifteen strong. All the roads in and out are blocked.

Fang cursed something in his native Mandarin and started checking his satchel. He looked towards Cassandra. “Did I give you the scroll rack back?”

Cassandra nodded and retrieved it from her satchel, holding it out to Fang.

Fang snatched it from Cassandra, popped off the lid and pulled out all the scrolls. This time, he cursed for a good fifteen seconds, and Aren could tell that he wasn’t saying anything polite because he had a murderous expression.

“There is a saying in Sector 17,” Fang said, looking up at Aren. “In death ground; fight.”

That was about as good a prophecy as any.

Estella nodded approvingly. “Sun Tzu. Very appropriate.” She didn’t seem worried. Of course, she didn’t know Aren was a Calamity and was not allowed to die. If Aren died, it was all over. No wonder Fang was so worked up about what Estella no doubt considered a quick, harmless albeit expensive trip back to the closest temple.

“They definitely know we are here,” Fang said. “How? How could they possibly know?” He was chewing his bottom lip, pacing back and forth very quickly and rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “We stalked them perfectly; there is no way they could’ve known. In the daylight no less. They should be as good as blind in the daylight.”

That was really the major problem. The upcoming fight? It was bad. It was terrible. It was biblical. The fact that they knew they were followed? That was straight up some Old Testament stuff.

Then, suddenly, Fang’s head raised and he pierced Aren’s soul with his glare. “It’s not an orc.”

“What?” Aren asked. “What do you mean?”

“Whatever is leading them — it is not an orc.”

Estella frowned and crossed her arms. “If that is true, then it is something that escaped Rakab with them,” she said.

“And it is related to Lightning,” Fang said. “That would explain a lot.”

“The bounty says that the groups have started worshipping Spirits of the Lightning Plane,” Aren pointed out. “Maybe it’s that?”

“What is a Spirit of the Lightning Plane?” Fang asked. “It’s probably nonsense.”

“Maybe not,” Estella said, holding up a finger. “Actually, this is from a long time ago, but I heard that there was once a Calamity around here. Ardun; it slaughtered the entire subjugation party that went after it. Fifty plus adventurers, all high ranked. Higher than me. Then it disappeared.”

“It disappeared?” Fang asked.

Estella nodded.

“What was it?” Fang asked.

“A thunder bird initially,” Estella said. “Or so I heard. Apparently it evolved into something even worse.”

“A thing like that…” Fang shook his head. “No, it’s not possible. There were at least a hundred adventurers in Rakab. If it escaped from there, we would’ve noticed. It would be the only thing anyone was talking about. It has to be something else.”

Estella pondered.

“Oh,” Cassandra made a sound and her eyes widened. “I know wha’ it is.”

They all looked at Cassandra. The priestess casually pointed a slender and beautiful finger at Aren. “It’s him.”

Fang narrowed his eyes, looked at Aren as if he fell off the moon and was an alien creature, and then he pressed his face into his palms. “Of course!”

“What? It’s not me! I didn’t do anything,” Aren protested.

“Ooooh,” Estella caught on.

Aren was the only one, as was usually the case, who didn’t get it.

“It’s a Spirit Link,” Fang said. “It has to be.”

Cassandra nodded, confirming that this was also her theory. “They worship ya,” she said.

“They worship me?” Aren asked, boggling. “What?”

“In a ‘we want to eat you’ way,” Estella pointed out with a smile. “You must’ve really made at least one of them angry.”

“I don’t remember making any one of the—“ Aren trailed off as he remembered the one orc back when they attempted to take Rakab the first time. “Oh.” He paused. “He survived the mortal wound?”

Fang rubbed his temples. “You let this orc go?” he asked with a tone that suggested this was possibly the dumbest thing a person could do.

“I mean, he was mortally wounded,” Aren said. “I am sure he died. Plus, he nearly killed me. I fell unconscious right after the battle. It can’t be him. He is definitely dead.”

Aren tilted his head. If the orc died, though. Why was his fresh bounty posted? To be fair, at the time, he was distracted by Yen. Now, an uncomfortable feeling rose in the pit of his stomach.

In the distance, the group heard a roar. “Human!!” It was a familiar voice. In fact, it was a familiar phrase too — well, a familiar word at least.

Aren’s features darkened.

Fang smiled ruefully as he studied Aren’s expression. “That’s him, isn’t it? He sounds alive to me.”

Aren glared at Fang. “Look, I didn’t know this was a thing. Even if I did, there was nothing I could do. I was in my grave with one foot. If it wasn’t for Nissa, I’d be dead.”

“Short-lived races adapt extremely quickly,” Estella explained helpfully. “If you let them live, their tactics and strategy will improve considerably. Their fighting skills too.”

“And then you have goblinoids,” Fang added. “Do you know why the Orkin Horde Invasion was so devastating?”

“I thought I did,” Aren said.

“Orcs have a very special ability,” Fang said. “If they declare you a nemesis, not only do they put a mark on your soul, and know where you are at all times, but they will also copy your abilities.”

Aren’s eyes widened.

“No, it’s not stealing,” Fang pre-empted Aren’s question. “They just… imagine up something that looks like what you do.”

“They can do that?” Aren asked.

“Very, very well,” Estella said, nodding. “Short-lived races. They only need to see your abilities once or twice, and they can come up with something similar.”

“It’s kind of like evolution,” Cassandra said. “Excep’ they copy tha predator.”

Fang’s dark smile remained. “Oh they got us good,” he said. “It all makes sense.”

Aren was frowning so hard his cheeks started cramping up.

“Oh they got us good,” Fang said again, and did not so much sit down as much as he just dropped onto the bench. “There is another thing that made the Orkin Horde Invasion so scary.”

At this point, Aren didn’t even want to know.

Fang continued anyway. “You see, orcs just aimlessly hanging around are weaklings, right?” He glanced at Aren, his gaze dark. “However, when they have a mission, it’s like they all benefit from something like Unity. They are unstoppable, relentless killing machines.”

Aren licked his lips. He definitely did not want to know that.

“And you, Aren,” Fang said. “You are their mission now. As far as they are concerned, killing you is their holy mission. All of this,” Fang said, gesturing around himself. “This town. Their splitting up. Their movements. Their pillaging. This is their labor of love. To impress you. To call you. To draw you in. It was all for you.”

“Human!!” the orc shouted in the distance, and countless roars echoed behind the awkwardly intoned word.

“So that they can mercilessly slaughter you,” Fang said.