Fang looked thoughtful, minute movements of his head signifying what was a nod. He wasn’t agreeing, however, he was accepting. His expression said that is not good, and when Fang didn’t feel good about something, no one else felt good about anything. Nissa, Cassandra, even Damien, looked like it was the end times.

This, of course, came off the back of Aren and Estella explaining to Fang what had happened just an hour or so earlier. They were still in the waystation, at this point, having deemed it as a safe location.

“What did you call this ability?” Fang asked.

“Arcane Territory,” Aren said.

Once again, Fang nodded. “I suppose that makes sense. It is a Unique Class, so its power is well above and beyond your run of the mill Guild or even Alliance class,” he explained. ”Do you know what Arcane Warfare is?”

Aren wanted to say he did, but on second thought, did he really? Maybe there was an important detail he missed. After all, the legend of Yan Li — everyone knew that story — and what carried him through to the top. But a lot of that was rumor. Arcane Warfare was the practical application of Yan Li’s legacy.

Fang explained anyway, without waiting for Aren’s answer. “Arcane Warfare is a fusion, you could say, of several abilities. Parallel processing and planar interference. In the tradition of magic that utilizes the body as a conduit to the planar energies, it is an absolutely necessary skill.”

Perhaps seeing Aren’s confused expression, Fang explained further. “If you have a generation and a manipulation skill, you belong to that class of magic user. In practice, we refer to that as a half caster. In theory, it is a full caster.”

Cassandra chuckled. “Yer just confusin’ him more.”

And it was quite confusing. In practice, it was a half caster? That didn’t make any sense.

“It is too complex,” Fang explained. “There are too many instructions, the sequences are unwieldy, macros are limited… the list goes on and on.”

Aren nodded. “Right,” he said. That explained why it was practical to consider them as half casters.

“Suppose a true, theoretical half caster had the water manipulation ability. Because of the shorter sequences, the lower complexity, and such, they can bring out far greater effects with far less effort. But in a desert, they are completely useless. Same story for all the other elements,” Fang explained.

“That is where Arcane Warfare comes in?” Aren asked.

Fang nodded. “Precisely. To my understanding, Arcane Warfare not only expands your buffer to offset the exponentially larger sequences, but the fact that it already creates an interference field to accomplish this means that you can skip any steps, in your sequences, required to… well, create an interference in the first place.” A pause. “Basically, it makes your sequences much shorter.”

Aren nodded slowly. Carefully, he asked. “So, theoretical full casters need to create an interference field to cast, to begin with?”

Fang nodded. “Yes, full casters create a burst of interference that launches their sequences. That is where most of the sequence overhead is, and comprises a large chunk of your processing space. Arcane Warfare does away with that and makes you a true full caster. If you hear the words true caster or spontaneous caster, it refers to you now.”

“So I lucked out?” Aren asked, already satisfied with uncovering one of his hidden abilities.

“Yes, and no,” Fang replied. “With your interference field manifested, which covers the element generation part and anchors it in reality, it can be attacked, destroyed, and such. It makes you more vulnerable.”

“I see,” Aren nodded. Fang was quite knowledgeable, even about things outside of his expertise. He must’ve spent quite a lot of time researching Singularity and what classes to play.

“But that is not the problem,” Fang said.

“There is a problem?” Aren asked.

Fang nodded, and pointed a finger across everyone in the room. “None of us are full casters. And we are still talking about theory, but in general, you will hear the opposite outside. Keep that in mind. By the way, the half refers to combat style. Half magic, half physical. That is an important distinction for party logistics. If someone asks for a full caster, that means they are looking for someone who can bring a lot of ranged, magical output, but has no physical abilities to protect themselves with, and thus require someone in the party to draw attention, or to protect the caster.”

Aren nodded. “I see,” he said. “And true or spontaneous would refer to someone who has more output than the theoretical half, but also possesses physical abilities.”

Fang nodded. “Exactly. With Arcane Warfare, you are basically an S-Tier caster and a fighter. However, that does not help us at all.”

“How come?” Aren asked.

“Like I said, none of us are full casters. None of us can use Arcane Warfare. Considering how quickly things are progressing — way outside my expectations — we need a quick influx of power. You may have the potential to be an incredible caster, but you neither have the lightning blade nor the experience to pull it off.”

“I see,” Aren said. “You were hoping that one of my hidden skill sets was something useful to the group; something I could teach.”

Fang nodded. “In the ideal worst case scenario,” Fang said. “This is the worst case scenario. And, this scenario is ideal because you already discovered one of your hidden skill sets.”

“But it is useless to us?”

It was a rhetorical question, but Fang confirmed anyway. “Unfortunately.”

It didn’t require explanation. Even Aren knew that the potential rectification to this situation was impossible. He could not teach them [Lightning Generation] or [Lightning Manipulation], because he could only teach entire skill sets. Those two were part of the Lightning Blade skill set, which was likely why the class had the Unique status. Sharing it was not an option.

“So how bad is our situation?” Aren asked, understanding what Fang was getting to and why his spirit was down.

“It is pretty bad,” Fang said. “We are practically open season now and there is no telling what the other clans and alliances will do. You have to understand that a lot of resources go into establishing a clan or an Alliance in a territory like Leone. Generally, for new clans, this doesn’t mean much, but our fame, our Calamity Kill, the rumors around us…” Fang trailed off, thinking for a moment. “We are not welcome here.”

“They will drive us out,” Nissa said. “Kill us ‘til we consider someplace else to live.”

Fang nodded to Nissa. “It is the logical move. Now with Rakab open, the stakes are even higher.”

“But the Adventurer’s Guild named us the owners of the territory,” Aren said.

Fang smiled. “That isn’t going to stop anyone. Owning a territory means simply that — we have building rights and official channels are open for us to begin construction and to hire a workforce. But adventurers don’t care. They can kill us until we give up the territory.”

Fang stood up and paced around the room, his hands clasped behind his back. “We don’t have allies. We don’t have strength. We don’t have a base. We have nothing,” he said, his back turned to the group. “Meanwhile, our potential enemies have allies, they have strength in numbers and they can operate out of Leone.”

“And we can’t risk returning to Leone because of my blessing,” Aren concluded.

“Yes, so, officially, we have to make our first clan decision,” Fang said, turning on his heel. “We keep Rakab, try to fight for it, end up in a lengthy war over the entire Leone region if we succeed in keeping Rakab,” Fang explained. “Or, we give building rights to the Adventurer’s Guild, or sell the ownership in a legal auction, try to see what’s behind the door in the Catacombs, and run like hell.”

Aren pondered the options, lowering his head. He correctly assumed that the essence of both plans was the question on whether they keep the Catacombs or not. That is what was truly at stake. Rakab? A city? Who cares! That was a long-term investment that wouldn’t materialize for years. The Catacombs on the other hand were an immediate source of more money than they would know what to do with, experience, glory and fame. Provided they could clear it, of course.

“I assume we cannot attempt to clear the Catacombs quickly?” Aren asked.

Fang shook his head. “No, the logistical requirements are absurd. We’d need a Clan Stronghold to even attempt it. Running to the door, this might be possible in the short term, but if it’s just another dungeon, it is pointless and a waste of time.”

“Ultimately, the decision is yours to make, Aren, as you are the leader,” Nissa said. “But you have officers here, and it would be smart to consult them.”

Aren looked up at Nissa. “So what do you all think? Keep Rakab or abandon it?”

“There’s no guarantee tha’ we’ll be attacked though, nah?” Cassandra asked.

“Correct,” Fang said. “It is just conjecture at this point. However, there simply is no downside to not declaring war on us, while there are many incentives for winning a war. It’s just a matter of time.”

“How much time? Can we make allies in the meantime?” Estella asked.

“A week, maybe two?” Fang offered. “It is hard to tell. They will want to recon us first, consolidate their fighting power, prepare for war. Things like that. As for allies…” Fang trailed off.

“The only ones we can make in that time are with the clans and Alliances that have their eye on Rakab in the first place,” Nissa said.

“Even if we could ally with one of them,” Fang pointed out. “There is no incentive for them. They’d just end up getting dragged into a war that would last for years. And it’d work both ways; we’d get dragged into that war as well, hence why I said we would end up fighting for the whole Leone region. That is the only feasible way to go through with the first option.”

“What about the top alliances?” Aren asked. “We made a good impression on them.”

“Not possible,” Fang said. “If we ask for help and show weakness, the game is up. For as long as they think you are a returning adventurer, we are safe from them. The moment they find out otherwise, it is over.”

Aren sighed. He couldn’t make a decision either way. This didn’t just concern the future of their clan, but their futures in general. If they make a stand here, obtain fame and glory, they would make one step closer towards their shared goal. But if they run, then what would happen to them? Would their goal still even be possible? Were they even allowed to run, considering Estella’s blessings? Weren’t they supposed to challenge impossible odds?

The others continued discussing the matter further, but Aren tuned their voices out, for the most part. They were struggling with the same questions that Aren was. No one knew the right answer. Perhaps, it was better said, there was no wrong answer. Both options were viable for different reasons, and about equal considering the risks and sacrifices.

Fang mentioned that an influx of power was needed — a deterrent. There was no such thing. Even if Ame could be counted on, if he decided to join Exalt, it would most likely not be enough. What they needed was an overwhelming power. A power so supreme that it would cement their place in Rakab for years to come, where none would dare question their right to exist there.

A power like Leviathan.

Leviathan promised he wouldn’t allow Aren to fail. Was that enough, though? It surely had to be. For better or worse, the two were one entity now. Whatever Leviathan’s objective was, it needed Aren for it; at least, that was the base assumption.

In the last fight, Aren felt Leviathan’s power more clearly than ever before. The [Lightning Divider], slaughtering without death lines, the certainty and the heaviness — these were all things influenced by the AGMI. Hardly any part of that fight, except Aren’s blunder against the Psion could be credited to Aren alone.

If Aren could master how to fight like that, who could oppose him? If he could fully share his mind with the AGMI, no matter how dangerous that was, would anything be impossible?

It was an all or nothing bet, in the end. It always has been. Not just in this instance, but for every moment of Aren’s new life.

If he truly wanted to move forward in this world, he had no choice but to rely on Leviathan. Completely. And though he had already made up his mind, earlier, that he would take advantage of the AGMI, his heart wasn’t completely in it. It was a spur of the moment thing. But this time… this time it was different.

“For now,” Aren said. “We will hunt the Lightning Bringers and the Celestial Flash.” He stood up. “Not just them. We will slaughter every remnant of Rakab in and around the territory. Rakab is ours.”

Nissa narrowed her eyes. She didn’t seem to agree with the decision. Fang had a neutral expression. In fact, the only one who openly approved was Estella.

“We will give building rights to the Adventurer’s Guild. That might likely buy us more time, but for now, the goblinoids are our priority,” Aren explained.

Fang seemed to think for a moment, perhaps trying to divine why Aren put such priority on what was arguably the least important factor in this entire thing. “I see,” he finally said, perhaps realizing something. “Very well. We will move out immediately then. Nissa and Damien, go first and scout out their positions.”

Nissa stood up and rolled her shoulders. “All right,” she said. “I hope you know what you are doing, Aren.”

Aren smiled.

He had absolutely no idea. The only thing Aren did know was that Leviathan told him to eliminate them. If there was any chance of this working, then that had to be the first step.