The Town Hall had been reinforced. The walls were lined with wooden boards of a particular color that was dark gray. Aren had never seen wood of such coloration before and, therefore, assumed that it had to be some special type of material. The windows were mostly boarded up, and some embrasures had been built on top of the large, ruined structure, with gangplanks connecting the various disconnected regions where the roof had fallen through.

Outside, in a large radius around the Town Hall, built dozens of meters down the street, were barricades. Here, the dark wood made a reappearance, but it was reinforced even further with metal bars. Spikes, ramps, and watchtowers were also present, including fortified positions for archers and casters — not that Exalt had many of those.

What was once a ruined street now looked almost like a fortified position. Almost, because it all looked like it was hastily put together, and it had to have been because this was not here some thirty hours ago in Singularity time.

Aren saw many faces on the ramparts and barricades that he did not recognize before. All of them were denizens, and they mostly looked like professional soldiers. They had matching uniforms underneath the armor and every one of them greeted Aren and Fang with a respectful nod and sometimes even with a salute.

“Did we hire them?” Aren asked.

So far, he had been following Fang, mostly in silence. The reason behind the fortifications seemed obvious enough — there were Orkin in the city. It was only a matter of time before other adventurers joined the ranks.

Orkin were, according to history, one of the most dangerous foes that had invaded the mainland. Their individual power aside, they were numerous enough to pose a real threat to the Coalition Military, and had staged several successful campaigns — even now, a large swathe of territory had been lost to these invaders. Worse, even after the Orkin were cleared out, their corruption remained. Now, these regions spawn horrors — demons — and other nasty creatures.

Adventurers loved the Orkin, however. The invasions were the golden age of Alliances who made so many profits not hunting Orkin and allowing their demonic corruption to spread and infect the world that it was widely believed — but plausibly wrong — that adventurers were at fault for the state of current affairs.

In truth, or so analysts and historians believed, very few Alliances allowed the Orkin to thrive, and even if they did, they would try their hardest to defend the mainland. After all, for every profit they made, they had lost twice more from losing their holdings, resources, gathering, and production sites. This, coupled with a sharp increase in Sales and Income taxes — to pay for new roads and to reinforce the Coalition’s military — had led to a massive outrage from the leading Alliances that officially fell on deaf ears. Unofficially, there had not been an invasion since then.

“I will explain everything when you see it,” Fang said. Then he gestured at the various fortifications and explained anyway. “Builders put that up. It’s pretty good. We repelled a scouting force earlier.”

“Orkin?”

Fang nodded. “Yeah.” Even though such a feat was very noteworthy — especially for adventurers who were just barely in the Expert stage of character development — there was no pride or accomplishment in Fang’s tone of voice.

After a short walk past the barricades, Fang took Aren to the temporary headquarters of the three Guilds that were present in Rakab — the Builders, Merchants, and Adventurers. Outside this building — a ruined noble’s house with three stories — was a notice board similar to the one outside of the Tavern.

It was flooded with requests. Material gathering requests, extermination requests, building requests, transportation requests — they were so numerous, and each one seemingly of a unique request type, that they covered each other. Rakab was in shambles, and so was their nascent base of operations.

But one request stood out to Aren, and around it was a significant berth of emptiness that no other request note dared to touch. This one piece of paper was dark red.

Calamity Subjugation Request

Reward: Full looting rights. Two years’ worth of wages plus a share of the prize pool. 66% equipment loss compensation. Unique items from the Coalition Treasury.

In smaller print on the bottom of the card-style note were details on how to qualify for the two-year wage coverage. This request was not meant for adventurers but entire Alliances and Clans. To qualify for the wage coverage, and the prize pool share, a significant enough portion of the organization had to commit to the task. The prize pool itself was not revealed yet, but in theory, it wouldn’t compare to the full looting rights clause.

Above an illustration of Aren’s face were the words: The Nightmare of Rakab.

“That’s… me…” Aren did not so much speak the words as much as he mouthed them. “This is…” he trailed off. It was too soon. How could someone find out he was a Calamity? Was it Stygian?

No! It wasn’t him. Fang and Ame attacked him for a reason. That reason was not because he was a Calamity, Aren was sure of that.

“It’s not you,” Fang said and glanced towards the Town Hall. “All right, everyone should be here. They will also want an explanation. Let’s go.”

“Wait,” Aren said. “Even if this is not me if this request exists anywhere else, it is all over. Adventurers will come after me.”

Fang shook his head. “Eli took care of it. We have nothing to worry about. For now.”

Aren stared at Fang for a moment longer and then nodded. “All right,” he said.

“Let’s go.”

The trip to the Town Hall was short, but to Aren, it felt like it took minutes, if not hours. With every step, he considered the possibility that this may be a trap, even though he knew that it wasn’t. Or rather, he hoped that it wasn’t. Ame and Fang could’ve killed him if they wanted to, but they stopped short at the last moment. Why go through all this trouble if they were going to betray him?

Even more than betrayal, Aren feared the possibility and the potential impact that the request had been posted elsewhere. There could be dozens of Alliances mobilizing to subjugate Aren. And even if it was by accident, or on purpose, the Banishment Ritual would work on Aren and that would be it. Now that he thought about it, many Alliances would probably like to test if Aren really was a former pro, or if he owed his successes to special character types.

The thought was terrifying. But beyond the storm of these terrifying thoughts was a larger galaxy of fear and the main reason why he logged in to begin with. Singularity and his character were secondary concerns at the moment.

The interior of the Town Hall had been only slightly reinforced with supports, mostly to hold up the extra weight and to help the ruined building withstand the stresses of what could be a lengthy battle and siege against the Orkin.

The main hall was packed with people and temporary tents — all denizens — and nearby, the whole of Exalt was assembled, sitting at a large table.

“Fang,” Estella was the first to speak up. “What’s going on? Why is Aren on the kill list?”

Damien nodded to Estella and then looked at Fang, eyes wide open.

Of course, they all kept an eye on Aren as well.

“Ame and Nissa can explain better than I can, they figured it out,” Fang said. “And so can Eli.”

Eli was also present with the group — still wearing the same dress from last time, although, with a heavy fur coat over it. Her assistant was not with her, for once.

After Fang’s words, everyone looked at Nissa, and that alone was proof of seniority and trust.

“Well, figured it out makes it sound like it was a big thing, but really…” Nissa began speaking. “Do you guys remember the Lightning Bringers and the other group? The orcs?”

Aren sat down at the table, next to Estella, and nodded. “Celestial Flash, I think. I remember.” Aren blinked. “The request said they worshiped Spirits of the Lightning Plane.”

Fang nodded sharply. “Exactly,” he said. “Spirits of the Lightning Plane.”

Nissa glared at Fang. “Do you want me to explain or…?”

Fang nodded. “Right, right. Sorry. Go on.”

Fang’s words brought a chuckle to Ame, who swiftly afterward cleared his throat, also nodding for Nissa to continue.

“Right, so,” Nissa said. “Estella mentioned Ardun, the Calamity that eliminated an entire Subjugation party and then disappeared. It was a Thunderbird.”

“I remember that too,” Aren said, nodding. The others also nodded.

“I asked Eli about it. Miss Eli, do you mind repeating what you told me?” Nissa looked towards the Adventurer’s Guild representative.

“The Subjugation party, in question, was made of mostly denizens,” Eli said. The words surprised Aren. Although it made sense now, Aren did not think that denizens could become powerful adventurers — at least, not powerful enough to challenge Calamities. “Of the fifty-six adventurers, only eight were like you and could resurrect.”

Estella nodded. “Okay?”

“They reported that the intel was bad. What they fought looked like Ardun, but also used blood magic. Also, in general, the Calamity was far more powerful than they expected. It did not only use lightning magic, which was what got everyone killed — they were mostly equipped to deal with lightning magic,” Eli explained.

Estella’s expression became thoughtful.

“Some five or six years before that event, a similar incident happened. There was a rare creature — a Thunder drake — that also wiped out a small group of adventurers. This was a smaller incident by comparison, but it caught my eye because the group also requested loss compensation because of bad intel. They claimed the drake used blood magic,” Eli explained.

Ame nodded. “I remember this. I started adventuring around that time. There were rumors that a blood drake appeared — the first of its kind.”

Eli nodded. “That is correct. But it had not been found. It too disappeared around this area.”

“It does sound related when you put it like that,” Estella said. “But how can we be sure that those incidents are related. How do they involve Aren?”

“If there wa’ a cabal o’ monsters here,” Cassandra said, “Surely we would ‘ave seen signs o’ them by now.”

“It’s just one monster,” Nissa said and then looked at Eli.

Eli crossed her legs and leaned back. “This is an old myth, but, they say that the people of Rakab believed in an ancient entity — the Great Dreamer. They settled on the ruins of Eosian Exiles, including the Labyrinth beneath,” Eli explained. “The Catacombs.”

Many thoughtful expressions appeared on the faces of the gathered Exalts. To Aren, the word Eosian drew his attention.

“They said that the Dreamer provided them with many of the resources that the Eosians had access to: glass-steel, red iron, core stone, and so on. But it also terrorized them with the Nightmares of Eos’ downfall.”

“Eos?” Estella asked.

“It’s an ancient land,” Eli said, dismissively. “Back on topic: Currently, we believe that the Calamity in question copies those related to Lightning energy and impersonates them — including their abilities.”

Everyone looked at Aren.

Aren’s expression soured. At that moment, Aren was sure that they were all thinking of the same thing: radiation hazard.

“Estella, you were not awake then,” — awake was an in-world way to say online — “But the rest of us saw Aren near the Catacombs, and he wiped us out. He slaughtered us like lambs.”

Ame nodded at Fang’s words. “He caught us by surprise, but even so, I could tell that wasn’t Aren,” he said. “That thing is dangerous. Extremely dangerous.”

Nissa nodded. “He killed me first.”

Estella glanced at Aren and then at Nissa. “Would my buffs have made a difference?”

Fang shook his head. Ame shrugged. The two experts were undecided but leaning towards no.

“On the bright side,” Fang said. “It is assuming a form, from what we have seen, of a young Aren.”

The emphasis on young made Aren furrow his eyebrows. Unlike the others, he only started playing Singularity when he was absolutely forced to. He never had a young version of his character.

“Ah,” Aren nodded. “That’s how you figured it out. It copied me and my abilities when I fought Rider in Rakab before he formed the Lightning Riders. The Spirit of the Lightning Plane they worshiped was this Nightmare.”

Nissa nodded. “Yes!”

In other words, it was before Aren acquired the lightning blade. Although technically, he always had it with him, he just didn’t realize it.

“Eli, about the request…” Aren spoke.

“I can hold it back for a few weeks if the damage to the city is kept to a minimum,” Eli said, perfectly aware of the direction Aren was steering the conversation in. “It is not just the Calamity — the Orkin complicate things. For now, I can hire you to eliminate the Orkin in Rakab, and keep the other request concealed. I have already hired some people to protect us, but that is for defense, not offense.”

Aren nodded. “Thank you, Eli,” Aren said.

She stood up. “And I do mean it. I will hire you. Come back later, when you are done here, to finish the paperwork. I will warn you though, the terms will be terrible.”

Aren nodded. “That’s fine.”

Eli nodded. “All right. Have a good day, Exalt.”

The group silently watched Eli depart, before looking at Aren.

Nissa spoke first. “Do you think it has the lightning blade?”

“Even without it, we stood no chance against it. It used all your abilities Aren,” Fang said. “Blood magic too. It had a barrier we couldn’t get through at all.”

Aren chewed on his lower lip. “I, honestly, don’t know. Back then, I had the lightning blade, I just didn’t know it.”

Estella glanced at Aren. “If it uses that weapon…”

“But it is unique, right? There’s no way it can use it,” Nissa suggested.

“So is the class,” Aren pointed out.

“Eh,” Ame chimed in. “Not necessarily.”

Fang clapped Aren on the shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. I am just glad that Ame noticed your sword.”

Aren turned his head toward Fang. “My sword?”

“When we ambushed you,” Fang explained. “He noticed your sword. That’s why he stopped. The Nightmare uses your old shadowblade.”

A flash of comprehension crossed his features. “That’s why you hesitated for so long,” Aren said.

Fang nodded. “Yeah, I figured, if we’re wrong, we’re wrong. At least, we’d learn something — and prove that we can fight and win against it without your help.”

“Unfortunately,” Aren said, raising his left arm. The make-shift tourniquet and piece of cloth covering the wound where his hand was severed had turned completely red. To Aren, it seemed comical. He couldn’t feel the pain at all — because of his uncalibrated pod. By now, he was certain that, if the pain limiters were off, he would be screaming in pain, or close to passing out from blood loss.

“We should take care of that,” Cassandra said.

Aren nodded. “But first, there is something we should discuss.”

“No,” Estella interjected. “Healing you is the first priority. We can talk later.”

Aren looked at Estella and then at the others.

“You can tell us in the Temple,” Estella said. “They can come too.”

“Are you sure?” Aren asked.

“It’s fine. I don’t mind,” Estella said. “We’re all friends, right? We shouldn’t keep secrets from each other.”

Aren smiled and nodded. “All right.”