Their Singularity session was still young. But after the last excursion into the Labyrinth, Aren had assumed that they would either log off for the night or do some spars against Estella and Ame to practice their teamwork. Those two were practically impossible opponents for any one of them — except Fang, of course.

To begin with, Damien as an assassin was not suited for long, drawn-out battles. An opponent like Estella was certain death if he had to face her alone. On the other hand, Ame’s skill by itself was more than enough to seal Damien’s fate, even under ideal conditions.

Without a shadowblade, Aren wasn’t of much use. His [Flash] might surprise Ame once, but Estella was more than aware of how Aren’s skill-set worked. In fact, considering Aren shared the details of the Lightning Blade set with Estella, the crusader knew best what he was capable of.

Still, Aren had the ace up his sleeve that was [Lightning Divider]. He wasn’t certain if he could use that technique without a shadowblade, but perhaps learning [Sequence Compression] has made that possible. [Lightning Divider] was probably out of the question. The sequence was simply too long and too... Aren wasn’t exactly sure how he would describe it. Parallel perhaps?

With [Lightning Divider], Aren felt as if he could cut anything. On a basic, instinctive level, Aren understood that much of the sequence for that technique was about minimizing the counter-shock and then neutralizing the charge in the environment. The latter part he understood only recently when he thought about why he got struck by lightning in the fight against Rider. It made sense. [Lightning Divider] was simply that powerful. By all rights, he shouldn’t even be able to use it. But somehow, he could make it work with his limited buffer and inappropriate tools. It was most likely Leviathan’s doing. What he felt was instinct was, in all likelihood, subtle influence from the AGMI.

To begin with, the idea that someone could play a full caster class on instinct was absurd. Extremely intelligent people have attempted to make sense of the magic system and many have failed, others have only found limited success. It wasn’t until later — when the brute-force method of [Arcane Warfare] appeared — that full casters could create techniques by making large and complicated sequences.

But Aren wasn’t like that. He wasn’t brute-forcing the techniques in the same way. A part of him understood that the only brute-force in his method was the fact that he was making up for the lack of a lightning blade with sequences that reduced the stress on his weapon and body. Otherwise, however, the techniques were perfect.

Instinct? In his dreams!

Maybe, one day Aren would claim that it was divine providence of some deity guiding him, and that would only be a half-lie. A deity was guiding him. But one would not find the name Leviathan in any of the currently known Pantheons of Singularity.

Of course, there was the tiny possibility that it was Priscilla’s guiding, but Aren was not an idiot. He knew that this idea was a romantic fantasy. Then again, he did have Priscilla’s Blessing, as if she was a Goddess. The quest also called her the Queen of Monsters. Fair enough. Maybe it wasn’t just a romantic fantasy. But all things considered, Leviathan was the most likely culprit.

However, the group did not log off, or spar, or rest — at least beyond what it took to heal their wounds. Instead, they gathered their supplies and went back into the Catacombs of Rakab.

Fang had that psychopathic smile on his lips, and so did Ame. Fang only smiled that way when one of his plans was coming together. It was the kind of sadism one might expect when a grandmaster faces another one, absolutely certain of his victory. Like when a plan or strategy comes together perfectly.

Coincidentally, Fang’s smile appeared when Aren shared that notification with him on the private channel. Immediately afterward, Fang told Aren not to use [Lightning Driver] in closed spaces and then asked the group if they were all right with losing sleep that night.

Naturally, still excited by the prospect of riches beyond their wildest dreams, they were more than eager to lose sleep. Everyone, that is, except for Aren. In truth, Aren did not care about riches. He did not care about what he stood to gain once he was defeated and his Calamity Event was finished. There was only one thing Aren wanted. At the very least, he was glad that his friends were excited and that he felt wanted, for once.

For different reasons, they all agreed on the same thing. On a fundamental level, they all understood the simple and brutal simplicity of the truth. Whether they rushed things now or tried later did not matter. They had no money to buy better equipment and no help was coming — in fact, only more enemies were coming. Now was their best hope of tackling the challenge that was the Catacombs of Rakab. Best of all, they all knew what Fang’s smile meant. Their victory was within reach.

Their arrowhead formation, at first, did not seem to work. Fang was on the left flank, and Estella was on the right. Ame was the point of the arrowhead. Fang could not swing his naginata effectively in tight corridors, and when the howlers came from ahead, it was mostly Ame and Estella doing all the work.

This time around, no one was going for decapitations, and Nissa — still in the center of the formation — did not use her techniques at all. They just mercilessly slaughtered the howlers with combination attacks. Sometimes it was Fang that delivered the finishing blow, other times it was Estella. But almost always, Ame was the first point of contact for the howlers, and they simply could not get through his defenses. His counterattacks were devastating. With one swing of his sword, he could push back two or three howlers at once and deliver debilitating strikes simultaneously, which allowed the flankers to destroy the core. They left a trail of evaporating blood, black ash and, if they dropped, useless cores in their wake.

Even though the formation was not efficiently making use of their fighting abilities — mostly Fang’s longer reach — it was still brutally effective against the howlers.

However, it was in the intersections which Fang mentioned were a problem where the formation truly shone. When the beasts came from three directions, the arrowhead could create a semi-circle in front of the backline, and Fang’s reach was truly unleashed there.

At most, they fought six howlers at once, and it was with Nissa’s precision fire, and Damien’s stealthy assassinations, that the group managed to easily clean them up. The job of the frontline was fairly simple. They just had to keep the howlers busy and away from the backline, while the flankers delivered the fatal blows. It looked so laughably simple that Aren felt stupid about his own encounter with the howlers.

But the reason was obvious. This was neither easy nor simple. Aren, in that situation, could only rely on tactics. But with a group, everything was different. Since ancient times, people believed that strategy was a force multiplier, and for good reason. From the ancient days of javelin skirmishers and archers, then to cavalry, sharpshooters, mechanized forces, and orbital strikes, strategy was largely the deciding factor in a battle, even if the odds were not equal. What transformed their group tactics into strategy was game theory. They could not choose their battles, but they could choose how they fought their battles. In this case, it was a long-term commitment to a simple plan. Forget the cores, Fang said. So that is what they did. Rather than expend their strength trying to obtain worthless cores, they efficiently pushed for the Labyrinth.

But strategy was not the only reason why the group had such an easy time advancing. It was like Fang said — something about this was odd. The number of opponents was off, and their actions were equally as confounding. A dozen encounters without a single howl could be considered luck, but after two — almost three — dozen encounters, it wasn’t just luck anymore. It was ominous.

All things considered, the group should’ve been surrounded by now, and fighting for their lives. In fact, many strategies for clearing the dungeons like this were to get surrounded and then clear out a large number of monsters for an easier way forward. Large groups relied on such a scenario in order to rest and recover their main forces. They would rather have several large battles, than an endless chain of smaller ones.

Perhaps it was a coincidence — that was a possibility — but the more Aren thought about it, the more he came to agree with Fang’s assessment. Their opponents were also seemingly using a strategy. Rather than face them head-on in large numbers, they did not allow the group to rest. It was a constant physical and mental pressure — mental because one could never know if the next intersection would be the one where dozens of howlers would attack them. There was also the self-induced mental stress produced by witnessing the decline of one’s abilities due to fatigue. At least, they were not wounded.

Something about Cassandra’s light spell attracted the monsters and made them strive to attack the priestess instead of the frontline. It was, perhaps, only thanks to this that the group had managed to avoid injuries so far.

After nearly two and a half hours, Fang suddenly gave the order for the group to stop. They were in the middle of a hallway and darkness stretched ahead and behind them.

“Why are we stopping?” Nissa asked.

“We are going to rest here,” Fang said, leaning against the wall and sliding to the ground.

Cassandra sighed in relief and dispelled the light aura, using instead one of the Light Stones to light the area, causing the cave-walls to glimmer with a metallic sheen. Then she promptly sat on the ground.

Ame didn’t ask questions and simply sat down, even going as far as to close his eyes as if to take a sitting nap. Somehow, Aren felt like Ame was capable of such a feat.

It was quiet.

Nissa pondered Fang. It looked like she wanted to object, but she did not raise the matter. She checked her equipment. She was mostly interested in the state of her bowstring.

Fang smirked. “We should be almost there,” Fang said. “There is a safe point before the Labyrinth.”

Nissa glanced at Fang.

“That is what you are thinking, right?” Fang asked and chuckled darkly.

Cassandra looked between the two.

Nissa eventually nodded. “Wouldn’t it be safer to rest there?”

“It would,” Fang said, nodding.

It would have been. Any reasonable adventuring party would immediately aim to make it to the safe point to rest. The group wasn’t so tired that it had to turn back and leave, but if things kept going the way they were now, it could get out of hand.

After a moment of silence, Fang asked. “You get it now, don’t you?”

Nissa nodded. "You really think they are that intelligent?"

“We will burn all our energy to get there,” Fang said. “And when we begin resting, that is when they will attack. Yes, I think they could be that intelligent. After so many years, I don't think we are dealing with simple howlers.”

“But it’s ah safe point,” Cassandra spoke, her thick accent warping her words.

“Safe points are not Sanctuaries,” Ame said. “Monsters avoid them, but that is not an iron-clad rule.”

Fang nodded to Ame. “The idea of a safe point only came to be when we discovered that priests can use the latent Divine energy in that place to create protection and camouflage wards — but even so if Elite monsters can get close enough, they can destroy those. Originally, they were known as resting points, because of the improved recovery rate thanks to the presence of the Divine energy.”

“But how could they get close?” Nissa asked.

Fang shrugged. “Earthquakes, the Labyrinth shifting, the Divine energy drying up. I can think of many reasons, natural and unnatural, how it could happen,” he explained. “But the bottom line is this. If I am right, then our opponent wants us to push as hard as we can, expecting to find a safe point.”

Nissa narrowed her eyes. “And then we will get swarmed and killed.”

Fang smiled. “If I was a monster, that is certainly how I would go about killing any adventurer group. Numbers do not matter — one hundred adventurers, or five. If they are so tired they can barely stand, then they will be easy pickings. Not to mention that on average, I not only lost fewer monsters by attacking constantly but with much smaller numbers, I still manage to hold on to my elites.”

“I am glad you are not a monster,” Nissa said. “What about that big howler though?”

“Probably testing us,” Fang said. “It might not be very smart. Or it could be very smart. I can't tell. Either it tried to get rid of Cassandra, which would’ve forced us to retreat, or perhaps it wanted us to think that we stood a chance.”

Fang was very thorough with his plans and counter-strategies. Aren, perhaps, normally would’ve felt apprehensive of blindly charging into the Catacombs, but in this case, Fang may have been right. Even with adventurers after them, they still had time to scout the Catacombs and determine the size of the enemy forces.

Aren also understood however that this was a unique opportunity. In terms of a Chess analogy, this would be a gambit. The enemy left the front gate of their fortress open and unguarded, in order to draw the enemy in and slaughter them. But to Fang, this was an opportunity to kill the leader.

But there were two other reasons why Aren did not fear this situation or the gambit. Not even Fang knew this, but Estella had [Divine Warfare]. Their group was far more powerful than the simple appearance would suggest — most groups were like that, to be fair, but the scale of the difference was much greater. Additionally, there was Camille. Her blood magic annihilated a dozen howlers in an instant, and who knows how many more when she led Aren out of the Catacombs, surrounded by dozens of howlers, in complete darkness.

But would Camille help them?

Either way, Aren felt very good about their chances, even though something in the back of his mind was trying to warn him of something.