Ren finally recognized the unfamiliar players fighting alongside him.
They were the same group he had glimpsed back in Medai Village, gathered outside the inn, whispering about the abnormal monster density near the surface levels of the mine.
Back then, they had seemed like an out-of-place puzzle piece in the peaceful rhythm of the village on the edge. And now, in the middle of this chaotic arena, they appeared again, without a hint of surprise.
There were about five or six of them, each with such a distinct presence that together, they formed a surreal sight amid the swirling stone dust.
A swordsman clad in light silver armor danced with fluid movements, weaving through the golem's crushing blows as if the attacks had been choreographed for him.
The monster's strikes were slow but devastating, yet he dodged them all with a strange calm, as though he had foreseen every move.
On the other side, a lancer with long copper-colored hair tied back high, a dark travel-worn cloak fluttering behind him.
Each thrust of his spear aimed precisely at the golem's stone joints, creating small fractures, though not enough to slow it down.
Even so, every movement he made reflected a deep understanding of combat, as if this wasn't their first time facing something beyond comprehension.
Another player, wielding twin blades, was smaller in build but incredibly fast. His blades flashed through the air, reflecting the red glow of the golem's furious eyes.
Though his strikes couldn't pierce the creature's rocky hide, he kept provoking it, creating openings for his teammates.
And at the edge of the fray was a girl draped in a long cloak, covering her from shoulders to heels, like a mage from another world. In a game without magic, her presence felt like a glitch in the code.
Her long hair veiled half her face, her deep, still eyes unmoved even as the ground trembled beneath her.
Her weapon was just as strange: a tachi, its slender, flowing blade unlike any of the common sword types.
She didn't attack with the intensity of the others, but every swing of her sword carried a quiet rhythm, as if she were speaking to the enemy through a language of steel and silence.
Ren stood still for a few seconds in the chaos, watching them, a mysterious party, moving in sync without needing to speak.
There was something odd about them, not just their style, but the way they fought: calm, precise, as if familiar with death and despair.
And in that moment, Ren understood, they weren't just wanderers chasing loot. They were after something. Or maybe… running from something.
The arrival of Ren and Diavel's group only added fuel to the blazing battlefield.
The golem boss, over two meters tall, its body made of jagged black stone, let out a maddened roar.
Each slam of its fists, each stomp of its feet, thundered against the earth as if to crush everything below.
The natural arena quaked violently, stone dust rising like dry storm fog.
The presence of fresh fighters seemed to enrage the monster even more.
It turned toward Ren and Diavel, letting out a roar as if marking them as new targets.
A chunk of stone shattered from the golem's arm, narrowly grazing a front-line player, forcing the group to scatter quickly.
Amid the clash of steel and stone, Diavel spun around and rushed toward the unfamiliar players.
In a brief window between attacks, he located who appeared to be the leader, the pink-haired lancer, whose eyes watched the battlefield rather than focusing solely on his own fight.
"We're here to support!" Diavel shouted, his voice sharp and firm, eyes never leaving the chaos. "We need to coordinate, or we'll be picked off group by group!"
The lancer looked over his shoulder at Diavel, a brief flicker of assessment in his eyes.
One second.
Two seconds.
Then, a slight nod. He signaled his team to fall back to more stable positions. No introductions, no unnecessary suspicion, just a decision made purely from reading the situation.
"We're not in command," the lancer said, his voice low and gravelly, marked by dust and exhaustion. "If you've got a plan, lead. We'll follow."
Diavel nodded firmly and turned back to his group.
In the seconds that followed, he seized temporary command, through his presence, his quick thinking, and the stability he projected in the eye of the storm.
"Split into three groups! Left flank draws its attention! Right flank waits for my signal, then strike its right knee, there's a crack there! Center group keeps distance, support and intercept incoming attacks!"
His commands rang out amid the roar of the beast and the crumbling stone.
Ren had already moved to the edge of the formation, sword raised, slotting himself seamlessly into the assault team, just as the real battle began.
The fight had entered its fiercest phase.
The golem boss roared again and again, each bellow like a punch to the chest, making the air around the arena thick and suffocating.
Its attacks, though sluggish, carried terrifying destructive power. Every stomp sent seismic shockwaves rippling outwards, cracking the ground and continuously disrupting the formation.
Diavel kept shouting commands, his voice hoarse yet authoritative, like an arrow pinning down the chaos threatening to overtake them.
At first, everyone was still clumsy and disorganized. The formation was a mess, reactions were slow, and a few players were nearly thrown out of the safe zone.
But after just a few minutes, the rhythm began to align. Diavel's group and the unfamiliar players gradually found common ground.
When one team drew the boss's attention, the other would seize the opening to strike at its exposed weak points.
Then they would switch roles, forming a rotating rhythm of battle, with no one left behind for too long.
The brief pauses between attack phases became precious moments to drink healing potions, stabilize their positions, and even regain their composure.
Still, not everyone could withstand the pressure of the situation.
Ren, already exhausted from a previous fall, felt his muscles tightening to the point of tearing.
A heavy stomp from the golem landed near his right side, sending tremors through the ground beneath his feet.
The ground surged, and Ren was thrown slightly off balance. Even though it wasn't a direct hit, the shockwave rippled through the system, and instantly, he felt his strength draining.
A status effect appeared in the corner of his vision:[Shock Status] – Movement Reduced | Stamina Drain
His hands trembled. It felt like his blood was vibrating in his veins, as if his body no longer belonged to him.
His knees buckled, his sword felt as heavy as stone, and every breath became fast and erratic.
This body... it won't last much longer...
Ren gritted his teeth, one hand pressed against the ground while the other clutched the sword's hilt. Cold sweat dripped down his temple.
He knew that if he collapsed now, no one would have time to turn back for him.
In the distance, someone cried out, a player was thrown from the front lines. Diavel turned, signaling a group to break formation and provide support.
No one noticed Ren at that moment.
And that, more than anything, made it impossible for him to fall.
"I have to stand... even if it's just so I won't become a burden."
Ren growled under his breath, forcing strength into his knees, inch by inch lifting himself from the cracked ground.
It felt like he was pushing back against the gravity of the entire world, but if he couldn't do even that, he had no right to be here.
Three health bars left.
The golem let out a deep roar, like rocks splitting in the earth's core. Its body began to change, the weathered stones on its surface cracked and peeled away, revealing a dimly glowing core beneath, with pulsing lines of light running down its limbs.
Its attacks were no longer purely physical. They now carried a paralyzing effect, slowing the reactions of anyone struck, even if just for a few precious seconds.
It had become many times more dangerous.
Its movement speed increased drastically, each step still deliberate, but shockingly swift for its massive frame.
Its attack patterns were no longer predictable cycles. Feints and sudden spins were mixed in, and even the slightest mistake could now cost an entire health bar.
But amidst the chaos, Diavel became the eye of the storm.
He no longer shouted. He gave commands with his hands, his eyes, the sharp, confident motions of his body. Every step he took seemed premeditated.
Those who had fought alongside him began to unconsciously follow his rhythm.
When the golem turned, Diavel had already signaled the opposing team to spread out.
When the monster swung its massive arm in a wide arc from the left, Diavel was already there, shield and sword raised, before the stone blade even sliced through the air.
"Fall back to the right! Incoming consecutive stomps!"
That was all he had time to shout, and a second later, the ground beneath the golem split into waves of stone, but the main formation had already shifted into the safe zone.
No one said it aloud, but both teams, despite having never coordinated before, now silently acknowledged Diavel as their leader.
Their eyes turned to him every time the boss changed behavior. And strangely, it was as if Diavel already knew what would happen next.
Ren felt it too.
Standing at the edge of the battle, breathing hard but still forcing himself to remain in the fight, he watched Diavel command without relying on authority, only on skill and an unshakable presence.
Everything Ren had done to lead Yuna and Nautilus… felt so small in comparison to the figure before him.
"He really was born to lead."
"Now I understand why…"
What Ren felt wasn't jealousy, it was a bitter, honest admission.
And when the golem roared once more, preparing for its final counterattack, Ren tightened his grip on his sword, lowered his stance, not for glory, but so he wouldn't be left behind.
He could never be Diavel.
But he still had his sword.