The trio deployed in a wider formation, covering each lane of the main street — any route which Aren could take to run past them. But they did not seem concerned with the fact that Aren could run the other way if he so chose. Perhaps, they had a long-range specialist, or perhaps there were more adventurers out of sight somewhere.

Not that Aren had any plan of running away. Why should he run, when his potential adversary was right there, in front of him. Somehow, for some reason, Aren felt that way. His buffer wasn’t even open. This inexplicable feeling — this ineffable belligerence — might have once begun as a small spark of resistance against his destiny. Now, it had become something else. Its existence — now a wildfire — was unnatural. This radical change in mindset, at the very least, felt unnatural. Could a person change this quickly? Or was he always this way?

That thing you call Leviathan is the most belligerent entity in the universe, the AGMI once tried to warn him. Could it be…?

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” the blonde-haired adventurer, the one left in the middle of the street, said. His tone had a sneering edge to it, perhaps emboldened by the tremor in Aren’s voice, earlier. It was a tremor that the adventurer misunderstood. “Disband your Clan, and we will be on our way.”

Just like that. Short and simple. The adventurer even smiled politely. As if he was doing Aren a favor.

Aren smiled. “No problem,” he said, coldly. There was that trembling in his voice again — that pulsing of pitch that teetered between fear and excitement, leaving it unclear which one it was. But the words he spoke should’ve been a dead giveaway, a clear and unmistakable signal that Aren had no intention of going along with their wishes.

Again, the blonde-haired adventurer misunderstood, even as his friends seemed to take a sudden interest in Aren, rather than their surroundings. They did not misunderstand. Perhaps, the other two adventurers expected Aren’s friends and allies to be along soon enough until then, but now they focused on him instead.

No one was coming to help Aren.

An info window opened above the blonde-haired adventurer’s head, identical to the one Aren saw in the real world, above the heads of his “bodyguards”. This one, also, was filled with information, but slightly different from the real-world version.

[ Name: Titor. Alliance: Stygian. Main Class: [Unique]. Adventurer Rank: Mithril. Coalition Rank: Sergeant. ]

A Unique class? Aren was most surprised by that. “Will you be escorting me to Leone, then, to finalize the paperwork?” Aren asked, as his gaze searched the adventurer’s weapon belt. There was only one weapon there, sheathed in an intricately decorated black leather scabbard, with golden inlay on the visible pommel. Somehow, it reminded Aren of a shadowblade, as its length and width seemed to be about appropriate for such a type of weapon — which was neither a shortsword nor a longsword, but somewhere in-between.

“You can do it right here,” the adventurer said, gesturing at Aren dismissively, as if annoyed.

“Titor…” one of his companions spoke up. He rolled the r in Titor as if he was from one of the Sectors with a strong and enduring Slavic legacy. “He is not…”

Titor raised a hand to his companion, silencing him. Then he smiled at Aren. “Go on.”

Aren chuckled and summoned his interface, nodding. He stabbed his finger at several menus, bringing up his Clan information. He confirmed his choices and then allowed his arm to drop to his side.

A red shroud surrounded the three adventurers. From how Fang once described it, Aren assumed that this was the hostility aura that Nissa told him would appear around him were he to revive in a Temple as a Calamity. It commonly appeared around enemies of the clan, if they were to step into the Territory of a Clan. With such an aura, death would make the adventurer lose everything on their person.

“You put us on your kill-list?” the blonde-adventurer asked, eyes wide in disbelief. “All of Stygian? Are you stupid? How did you even know…?” He shook his head. He truly seemed as if he could not believe what just happened.

Aren suspected that he too probably had a hostility aura, considering that Exalt — a small Clan — and Stygian — a powerful Alliance — were now at war.

“Sorry, I pressed the wrong button,” Aren said. Sure. He accidentally put in Stygian as the name of the Alliance he wanted to Kill-On-Sight. “Let me try again.”

Titor was so stunned that he simply stood there. Aren imagined it was because it seemed too unreasonable that Aren would resist. After all, perhaps they were going out of their way to solve this peacefully. Unfortunately for them, peace was never an option.

Not for Aren. Aren needed Exalt to become famous. Aren needed to earn the right to enter the Tower of Gods, where he suspected the way to Priscilla would be. And though Aren could not earn fame, not among the denizens of the world — at least not intentionally — he could become famous among players.

Suddenly, the splitting cry of a war-horn thundered in from above. A massive notification appeared in the orange and violet burning twilight clouds.

[ Clan Exalt has declared Total War against the Alliance Stygian Sky. The goal of this war is Extermination. This is the first time a Clan has declared a War of Extermination on an Alliance. The Gods are watching, preparing rewards for the victor. The Factions of the Central Continent wonder if a new powerhouse of the Leone region will rise to replace the old. ]

All their heads were turned skyward. Such a blatant and obvious notification would likely be seen by anyone with a pair of functional eyes. Aren did not expect it to be that obvious, though, but that is to say that it positively exceeded his expectations.

Slowly, they came to stare at each other, Aren calm and collected, while the others wore stupefied expressions.

“Are you insane? We will kill you all…” Titor said, shaking his head. That was probably the plan from the beginning, Aren assumed, but no doubt, initiating a war of extermination was outside of their expectations.

In fact, the trio seemed happy. Surely, a large Allegiance declaring a war of extermination on a Clan would be received very poorly by the community at large. That is most probably why this was, apparently, the first instance in two decades of Singularity that something like this happened. No Clan was stupid enough to fall on their sword, declaring total war against an Alliance. A Total War was not just limited to Territories organizations controlled, but the entire World. Anywhere in the world, members of each organization could murder each other with no consequences to their reputation, with catastrophic inventory loss.

Such wars were very unpopular for several reasons, but losing everything on a character was one of the biggest contributors. For example, Aren could no longer leave his Clan, even if he wanted to. Every adventurer, potentially at or above a certain rank, was no longer allowed to leave. They were locked in.

Such wars would create a cascade of being cut off from the support of major Factions and other Alliances and Guilds, depending on how the war went, and usually, players would quit Singularity entirely, unable to cope with the loss of progress and wealth.

But these things only applied to Total Wars between Alliances — organizations that could effectively wage such a war. Would a small Clan declaring such a war on an Alliance have anywhere close to such an effect?

Aren pointed at the spot in front of Titor’s feet. “Leave your equipment there, and I will let you go,” he said as he reached into his pocket. “Or don’t.” He shrugged. “But it will be mine either way.”

They burst into laughter. They laughed at his bold declaration. Aren could see it in their eyes — they could not believe that they ran across such an idiot. Why wouldn’t they? Who would be stupid enough to do something like this?

But was it stupid?

Aren laughed with them.

Camille’s crystal burst into blood-mist, solidifying into the shape of a sword — identical to Aren’s lightning blade. The [Lightning Divider] followed the thread of the death line with unerring precision and intent. It happened so quickly that Aren’s target — the adventurer on the right — did not even have a chance to react.

The area rumbled with thunder. The smell of ozone filled the air, as well as the coppery-iron tang of blood. Aren did not need to see the [Damage Assessment] notification that he struck a fatal blow. The fact that the adventurer on the right was in two pieces — diagonally blasted apart by a blade too hot to only cut — was more than enough assurance that he was dead.

Generally, it would take thirty minutes for an adventurer’s corpse to disappear, giving a chance for High Priests to resurrect them. But the way the adventurer’s belongings immediately spilled onto the ground, and his body turned into black motes and ash that evaporated away, suggested to Aren that this one was beyond resurrection.

[ Fate devoured: [Reaping Sword] improved. Small increase to Lightning Blade primary skills. Information obtained on Prey. ]

Aren stared at the notification that popped up in his vision, as the laughter faded. On the ground, the severed chainmail links had scattered like pearl beads, the armor — the unbelievably expensive armor — ruined. Aren sighed. It was unlikely that he would have been able to sell it, even in pristine condition, but someone could’ve worn it. But then again, would Fang and Ame wear something taken from a dead person. Considering how they reacted to their radiation sickness, yeah, they probably would.

Their overwhelming numbers advantage over Aren had disappeared, in the span of a moment. Aren’s action was brutal and swift enough — they could not even see the [Lightning Divider] — that they lost the appetite for laughter. Perhaps they even considered their treatment of Aren, earlier, as an idiot to be a bit harsh and rude. Perhaps they even wondered if they were wrong about him.