Ah, total darkness again. Zalanir chuckled at this familiar yet bizarre situation. How come he went from having the light all day in the big city of Saigon to finding himself constantly hugged by the blackness during the past few months? The sky had shifted from clean, clear blue to raining down snowflakes all the time, so it had to be at least a few months — hopefully not years — since he had been trapped here, right? And how did he manage to get out of this damn cave already only to find himself here again, at this spot, depriving every ounce of attention from his body parts but the ears? At this rate, he might as well learn to befriend nocturnal beasts. They were going to be besties in no time.

  Something slammed onto the floor, followed by a couple of whooshes, kengs, cursings, hastened footsteps, and finished with a screech. Big screech from above.

  Zalanir stood on the spot, a sound bolt ready in his hand. None of the sounds were close to him yet, but that could change anytime.

  The light turned up again from the two talismans sticking onto the wall right at the mouth of the path. Zalanir was ready to fire a bolt at the disorder mess but halted his hand above his right shoulder when everything was visible. It wasn’t matching with what he had in his mind at all.

  The tanned woman Zalanir saw at the cave entrance when he first got out was standing barefooted at the center of the corridor, surrounded by five other cultists and … a monster? A two-headed creature was flapping its small jagged wings on top of Eiselen — Zalanir recalled this was the tanned woman’s name. The black crow head on the left was scanning the area, including a stare when looking his way, whereas the other was gnawing on a black, half-remained pointed piece of kunai with its exposed, nasty fangs. It chewed through the weapon like a kid enjoying her pancakes. Easy and crunchy.

  Weirdly enough, that laptop-sized monster gave Zalanir the same sensation as the top of the altar behind. For some reason, there existed a faint connection between that savage beast and his mind.

  “Aren’t you a pesky bunch? If it hadn’t been for her warning, we might have been done for already. Catch them!” The tanned woman raised her voice.

  Of the five cultists who rushed in, two crashed down on their faces after something locked their legs down. But not the ones who fixed their eyes on Zalanir. He cursed his luck, but then thanked whoever blessed him after seeing Eiselen and the beast separated and each beelined toward Hiina and Rafnick.

  Then came another surprise. A masked man wearing a light blue vest appeared out of nowhere and struck Eiselen with a horizontal slash. Literally the man just popped up and gave his target a cut on the cheek. It could have been Eiselen’s throat if not for her last-minute dip. This occurrence paralyzed every person, putting a soft pause and confusion before two voices came through.

  “You son of a bitch. Ambush, traps … and an assassin?” Eiselen shrieked.

  “Makin? Why are you here?” Rafnick shouted.

  The new assassin didn’t say anything, rather, he seemed determined to take down Eiselen with his dual swords. This sudden development pulled the monster from flying toward Rafnick to turning back to the tanned woman, but Hiina interrupted it midway. The male cultist, who was running toward Rafnick, instead headed back toward his leader.

  So, after everything happened, there were three fights going on simultaneously. The first one was between the assassin named Makin and Eiselen and a cultist at the mouth of the other path. The second bout saw Hiina and Rafnick taking on the flying monster near the pile of bat carcasses.

  As for the last one, Zalanir was under assault from a short sword wielding slanted-eyes man and a shorter one who launched … earth bolts at him. That was definitely Adaptability Bolt. This was the first time he had encountered someone who used a similar skill. Energy Barrier helped him block these bolts, but the sneaky air bolts that the man mixed in from time to time caused him major trouble. Not only did its translucent nature make it only detectable three or four meters away, but the sword user also timed it to do his glowing attack that cracked Zalanir’s barrier.

  After getting hit with this combo for the second time, Zalanir’s hauberk was as good as gone. A diagonal slash tore it into two pieces and left Zalanir with a bleeding bare chest. In return, Zalanir had also dealt good damage to the melee guy, hitting three bolts and two energy waves when the barrier got destroyed.

  He pulled back slowly toward the path where he got in. Facing both of them like this wasn’t ideal. He had to find a way to isolate them, at least temporarily, and for that he needed help.

  Zalanir got hit in the right heel, or one could say he let the earth bolt hit it by using the barrier to only block the sword chop. It was still fricking hurt, but after tasting the bolt several times already, he was confident that he could tank it. The man’s bolt wasn’t as strong as his based on the eye test, so at least he could be rather smug about it.

  He limped inside the corridor, faking the struggle as best as he could by firing bolts randomly behind.

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  Zalanir’s heart dropped a beat when the man with the slanted eyes turned backward, but luckily he just did that to grab the fallen torch that Hiina had thrown away before.

  Deliberately getting hurt sucked. If this bet didn’t work out, this could be the end for him. However, despite the danger, Zalanir had actually felt pumped and excited. It was as if he were mounting a comeback in a losing match. Now, what could be that one forehand down the line to reserve the momentum?

  The answer lay with the friends who Zalanir had spent most of the time inside this cave with. He waited until both of the pursuers were right under a large batch of bats, then he launched three consecutive sound bolts to the ceiling. These cultists might have cleared the chamber, but plenty of these bats still rooted inside this corridor.

  Right after that, Zalanir dashed back to the melee guy at full speed, fired a bolt, and tackled the man down using his shoulder. His heel was revolting down there, constantly screaming at him to give up and let it rest. After falling down, Zalanir wrestled and stretched his hands out to snub out the fire. The torch’s head kissed the floor several times before getting broken into pieces. The fire went out in a couple of seconds.

  Hello darkness, my old friend. I’ve come to talk with you again. These old rhythms started playing in his head.

  Zalanir brawled with bats and the man on the floor until he managed to erect a barrier between them and scrambled out with a hand extended forward. He let out a breath of relief and allowed himself to relax after finding the rough wall a moment later.

  Guarding off the sound attacks from the bats wasn’t that big of a problem for him, but apparently the same couldn’t be said for these two men. They just kept on shouting and swearing non-stop. As if that would drive the bats off. Zalanir smirked. His bet paid off at the end.

  The fight then became rather easy. The momentum was now completely in his favor. Zalanir was like an unseen predator lurking in the dark. His attacks landed when the enemies whiffed theirs. Running away? No shot he let it happen. No shot the bats let it happen.

  You have slain [Rock-tailed Bat — Level 39]

  …

  You have slain [Rock-tailed Bat — Level 37]

  You have slain [Human — Level 42]

  Level advances to 41

  You have slain [Human — Level 44]

  Level advances to 42

  You have slain [Rock-tailed Bat — Level 40]

  The kill notifications for the two cultists inevitably came after fifteen or thirty minutes, blended in a waterfall of other notifications. He could’ve let them live, but the other bats would sweep down and do it anyway. Besides, it wasn’t like they had no killing intent. If Zalanir had stayed there and not come up with this plan, he would be the one lying on the floor awaiting the bats or whatever fate these cultists had for him.

  Zalanir sat meditating on the spot to refill his resources for an hour, getting his health back to above 65%. While meditating, he also debated whether to go back or run away, and after weighing both of the options, he decided to go back to secure the back-up option of being an enforcer. Not only that, he would need them to take him to Yebin anyway. Tagging along with a residence, especially an enforcer, had to be good enough to get him a free ride into the city in case there would be some examinations or filtering at the gate. Other than that, he was also curious about the altar and the two-headed beast. What was that sensation about?

  Doing what was now second nature to him, Zalanir followed along the wall back to the chamber. Even though it was a bait, his heel still hurt like there was a needle poking it each time Zalanir moved his right leg. This sensation reminded him of when he was wearing a new pair of Oxford shoes with rigid heel counters at his friend’s weddings. As a man of sport shoes, those Oxfords had torn his heel skin apart, leaving him hobbling for a few days after until the remodeling skin took over. Since then, he had switched to a pair of Stan Smiths, screwed all the wedding attire, and never looked back. Now his wound on the heel kind of provoked an unpleasant memory, adding fire to his annoyance.

  While on the way back, he had devised two plans according to the outcome of the battle inside the chamber. If the enforcers lost, he would turn back and get out of here as fast as he could. Whereas in the case they defeated the enemies, he would continue stringing along.

  But more often than not, everything would go astray, leaving the plans in shambles. They hadn’t finished their fight yet. The monster and the assassin were still battling each other now. Lots of wounds and blood on the monster, but it was nowhere close to the assassin having lost his entire left arm. Hiina was in a better condition, and even though she was facing both Eiselen and a man with long hair, she was the one who had the upper hand, as both of her opponents looked to be on their last legs.

  Rafnick, on the other hand, was nowhere to be found. The light from the talismans didn’t illustrate every nook and cranny of this chamber, so maybe he was resting somewhere? Perhaps he was doing the same thing as Zalanir, drawing the enemies away onto the other path in order to isolate them? There were two other cultists missing, after all, so the possibility was rather high.

  The tempos of both fights were quite slow and without much direct confrontation. It seemed like each side was trying to outlast the other. Zalanir had to wait for a good ten minutes to find an opening when Eiselen angled her back to him. Seizing the opportunity, he let loose a three-pronged attack, all using the quickest bolt in the form of the air affinity.

  “It’s you!” Hiina shouted. Her voice was higher than usual, and the word “you” also lingered in the air for a longer period compared to her usual curt style.

  Eiselen coughed out blood and collapsed onto her bare feet after getting hit. Her accomplice hurried over to check and was flinging his head back and forth between Zalanir and Hiina. Sweat, wrinkles, and hesitation ran visibly on his face.

  Zalanir could also feel the gaze from the other spot, where maybe the two strongest fighters here were duking it out. With his appearance, seemed like the stalemate was about to end.