Martin didn’t need NukEncore’s scream to understand how badly the battlefield had turned against them.

A massive mini-boss loomed over everyone, rising from the flooded tunnel as if the nest itself had grown a spine and decided to crawl out. Her body was plated in wet, scale-like armor, each black segment catching blue-green light from the water below. Thick legs pressed into the stone hard enough to crack it, while her mandibles curved outward like executioner’s blades.

Poison pulsed beneath the shell around her abdomen, glowing faintly through thin seams as egg sacs throbbed against her armored body.

Hatred burned through the queen’s stare. She looked at every player in the chamber as if she recognized them as invaders, thieves, and food all at once. Yet every step around the eggs carried careful restraint, even as the cluster split open and spilled more monsters into the flooded nest.

She never crushed the eggs or scraped the sacs with her legs. The normal ants changed with her arrival, their random frenzy tightening into a single purpose. Heads turned together, and their mandibles clicked in a sharp, repeating code that felt too deliberate to be instinct.

The west nest had gained something far worse than a larger monster. It had gained a commander.

The players trapped near the egg cluster reacted first.

Some raised their weapons toward the queen, either brave enough or desperate enough to believe a mini-boss drop could still belong to them. Their eyes flicked between the boss, the hatching eggs, and Night Espresso’s formation as they calculated whether the chaos could become a chance.

Others reached the opposite answer almost immediately. Their attention snapped toward the exit route behind Martin’s line, where Night Espresso’s shields still guarded the narrow path out of the flooded nest.

One duelist took half a step back. A mage behind him swallowed hard and lowered her staff, aiming no longer at the queen, but at the path between the rocks. The dagger user who had tried to stay clever shifted his weight, searching for a gap in the trap line before anyone could notice.

Martin noticed.

The queen had turned the nest into a boss arena, but the enemy players had not agreed to be participants yet. Some wanted the reward, while others wanted survival. Either way, they were about to move, so Martin decided to move them first.

[Emperoar: We’ll cover the exit route and force the other players to stay and fight the boss. Use every trap you can and block all possible escape routes. I’ll keep an eye on enemy players’ HP so we can finish them off and continue the grind!]

[Potato Block: You want to grind in this situation?!]

Martin sneered.

[Emperoar: We couldn’t have asked for a better situation, could we?]

Potato Block answered with his shield before he typed another word.

He slammed it into the flooded ground beside another tank, and two more shields locked into place after his. The narrow route behind Martin’s line closed under bodies, steel, and players who had suddenly remembered exactly who was commanding them.

Rangers retreated by three steps and marked the ground with trap pings. Thin red markers appeared along the left edge of the exit route, and blue ones followed near the rocks. A mage with a binding skill raised her staff but held the spell, waiting for the first enemy player foolish enough to rush.

The trapped players saw it happen.

The duelist who had taken half a step back froze. The dagger user’s clever expression tightened as his escape route turned into a killing corridor, and behind him, the egg cluster cracked louder.

The first Frenzied Ant Darling spilled out of the split egg, too small, too pale, and too wrong to be a worker ant. Its shell had not hardened yet, leaving its body slick and translucent beneath the queen’s blue-green glow. Its thin legs twitched against the flooded stone, then snapped into place all at once.

[Frenzied Ant Darling Lv. 34 has joined the battle.]

More eggs split open around it, and more Frenzied Ant Darlings spilled into the water. They did not stumble like fresh hatchlings. They shrieked, lunged, and threw themselves toward the nearest warm bodies with the blind devotion of creatures born already loyal to their queen.

Their mandibles were smaller than the adult ants’, but they clicked faster, eager to bite through ankles, wrists, and any gap left behind by a careless shield.

One of the trapped players cursed and swung at the first Darling. His blade cut halfway through its soft shell, but the creature kept crawling as another hatched beside it, then another, until the flooded ground began to writhe.

The enemy players could run toward Night Espresso’s shields or turn back toward the queen. Martin watched both choices form in their eyes and smiled wider.

Only after Potato Block saw that smile did the panic in his chest twist into anticipation. He was a fellow tank, but Martin had shown him a level of control he had never seen before, much less been part of. Now, that same confidence pulled him forward, and he wanted to throw himself into the frenzied monster wave and level up like crazy.

That anticipation passed from shield to shield and spell hand to spell hand, and Martin took control of it before it could scatter.

[Emperoar: Rangers, pin every trap you place. And don’t waste your strongest damage skills just to deal damage. Save them to finish off monsters and players! Work tighter now!]

The line snapped into motion.

Martin switched to the other voice chat, connecting directly to Kuro A.

[Emperoar: I remember the mini-boss’s weaknesses from the briefing, but I need one more confirmation to make sure we all survive and benefit from this wave.]

[Kuro A: Foreleg joints, shell vents, and antennae. Do you remember the details?]

[Emperoar: I do. That’s more than enough.]

[Kuro A: Need my assistance?]

[Emperoar: ...No need.]

[Kuro A: Ok. Keep it up, Brother EMP.]

Brother EMP? Does he feel closer to me because I can shot-call too? Well, about time I got some male friends. Haha!

"Let’s level up so fucking fast we set new records!" Martin shouted, spurring his teammates on even further. "Duelists, stay behind us! Rangers and mages with trap skills, if you need range to plant traps deeper, warn us first! Let’s do this!"

"Yeah!"

"Naturally!"

"Of course!"

As soon as Chaosgraphy slipped into Martin’s shadow, the west nest’s chaos narrowed around them, leaving only the scrape of her sword and the water dripping from his shield.

She moved close enough for her shoulder to almost brush his shield arm. Dark water dripped from the lacquered plates of her Moon-Bitten Duelist Jacket and the fang charms at her sash, and the wound from her overextension still tugged at her posture. She refused to limp in front of him, tilting her head instead as she looked up with a soft smile that made her seem more dangerous, not less.

Martin glanced over his shoulder, and their eyes met.

Chaosgraphy’s fingers slid along the flat of her sword, slow and thoughtful, before she lowered it to her side. Her voice came softer than usual, meant for him more than the voice chat.

"Thanks for covering for me. When I failed, and after."

Martin already had his answer.

"Your favorite novel series wouldn’t be a trilogy if everything went perfectly for its protagonists and antagonists."

Chaosgraphy’s lashes dipped for a second, and the smile on her lips warmed into something almost lovely. Then her gaze lifted again, sharp, amused, and full of that villainess confidence she never truly lost.

"Clichés are clichés for a reason." She leaned a little closer, close enough for the words to feel like a secret offered in the middle of a battlefield. "They’re stupid, repetitive, and predictable, but we still love them because there’s always something new in the execution. You performed that cliché beautifully, and I’m sure everyone enjoyed it. I know I did."

Martin chortled.

"Stop sounding so sweet. You’re getting scolded after this expansion mission, even if we’re thriving right now! Focus. I see someone smart avoiding the traps. He might have a skill to detect them. We’ll handle him."

The softness vanished from Chaosgraphy’s face, though the warmth remained. She turned her sword once, stepped fully into the line beside him, and watched the enemy player through the steam with a gaze that promised trouble.

"Yes. The front line belongs to us," Chaosgraphy said.

The smart player Martin had noticed did not rush for the exit like the others. He moved slower, and that made him more dangerous.

His eyes kept dropping to the flooded stone before every step, tracing the invisible spaces between trap pings, shield angles, and the marks left by the rangers. Once, he caught another player by the wrist and pulled him away from a red marker half a second before it would have triggered.

Martin’s smile thinned.

"There," he said. "The one guiding them. He can read the trap line."

Chaosgraphy’s fingers tightened around her sword. The old her would have lunged the moment he became interesting, but this time, she stayed beside Martin and waited.

The smart player shifted again, using a bleeding teammate as cover. The wounded man staggered toward the narrow gap between two shield users, one hand pressed to his side while his HP bar flickered dangerously low. He was not important by himself, but the path he took mattered. If he passed through safely, the others would know where to run.

Martin raised his shield by a fraction.

"Not yet."

Chaosgraphy held herself still, breathing through the ache in her wound as water curled around her boots. The bleeding player stumbled closer, the smart player watched him, and Martin watched the smart player.

Then the wounded man crossed the last safe stone.

"Now."

Chaosgraphy vanished from beside Martin, but she did not rush ahead blindly. She followed the exact lane he had opened, cutting through steam, water, and the shadow of his shield with her sword already lowered for the killing stroke.

[Alpha Rend]

Her blade tore across the bleeding player’s side in one clean arc, and his HP bar emptied before his body hit the water.

The trap-reading player froze. For one priceless instant, his eyes left the ground and snapped toward Chaosgraphy instead.

Martin’s shield slammed forward. The nearest trap marker flashed, and a binding circle erupted beneath the smart player’s feet, locking his legs in place just as the Darlings began to crawl toward him.

Chaosgraphy landed lightly near Martin’s line, close enough to return instead of chasing deeper. Her smile was sharp, satisfied, and just a little breathless.

"I waited," she said.

Martin kept his eyes on the trapped player.

"Good girl."

Chaosgraphy’s lashes lowered, but her focus stayed on the prey in front of them.

"Careful. Praise me too much, and your scolding later will have no effect."