They didn't rush into the first floor to attack the rat kingdom. Not yet. They trained for weeks, bringing the four new recruits up to speed with the rest of the group.
Zy specialized in traps and ambush tactics. His mind worked in angles and pressure points, seeing ways to turn the environment itself into a weapon. Nida was a former assassin turned adventurer, her movements silent and precise. Hiro used a dual blade style brought from another continent, a flowing combat technique that emphasized speed over power. Roman fought with his hands and body, a martial arts style that turned his entire form into a weapon.
These were the four they'd managed to pull back from despair. The ones who'd found a reason to keep fighting.
Benny didn't stagnate either. He asked around about how to use mana effectively, trying to understand the power that had awakened in him. He didn't know what element he had affinity for. Hell, he didn't even know if he'd been born with any potential at all. Hopefully it wasn't something useless, some garbage element that wouldn't help him survive.
He'd only recently awakened these strange powers, so everything was new territory. Usually when children were born, they were checked by a doctor or priest for elemental affinity. Magic users were heavily regulated, and anyone who showed potential was registered early in life. But Benny had been orphaned far too young. He'd never gotten tested. Never knew if he had potential or not.
Well, it didn't really matter to him now.
He also had new weapons. A sword, his preferred choice. A spear for reach. A better knife crafted by Torin's skilled hands. With these, he could kill enemies effectively. That was what mattered.
The group also began crafting utility items. Torin designed pouch holders for magic crystals, which they grabbed from the walls of the labyrinth. The crystals provided an unlimited supply of light, at least for now, unlike torches that needed to be refueled with mana constantly.
The two light sources had different qualities. Torches produced better lumens, brighter and more focused, but had limits. Magic crystals were dim by comparison, but they never turned off. A continuous, reliable glow. It was the only natural light source the labyrinth provided.
Benny sparred with the others daily. He still got beat most of the time, but occasionally he surprised them with tricks and unconventional tactics. He couldn't land a clean hit on any of them yet, but that wasn't the point.
His goal wasn't to win. It was to learn. To refine his skills and techniques. To understand his limitations and strengths.
Winning was a bonus. Losing was an education.
He knew he was still weak. Still a coward at heart, or at least that's how he viewed himself. But the others saw something different. To them, he was the bravest coward they'd ever met.
They watched him work his ass off every waking moment, never wasting time on useless thoughts. If he wasn't hunting, he was training. If he wasn't training, he was maintaining his tools or asking for guidance on topics he didn't understand. Benny kept himself busy constantly, filling every hour with purpose.
It was different from the rest of them, who were still plagued by pessimistic thoughts and doubts. They envied his tenacity, his refusal to give up. They saw his determination and felt inspired.
But they didn't see what happened when he was alone. How many times had he tried to give up in the darkness of his own mind? How many times had despair nearly overwhelmed him, only to be overridden by his will to leave this place, to survive? It was the will of a weak, pathetic human being who refused to die in the dark.
That will was stronger than any magic.
His determination inspired the rest of the group to work harder. They pushed themselves beyond what they thought possible because Benny, the self-proclaimed coward, never stopped pushing himself.
Soon enough, as they'd discussed, they would butcher the entire rat kingdom out of existence. That was the plan. That was the promise they'd made to their dead.
---
They didn't neglect the first floor entirely during their training period. Scout teams went there regularly to check on changes and enemy movements.
Mutated rats were present, wandering the corridors as they always had. Rat men appeared occasionally, searching for their lost comrades. But the labyrinth was cruel in its efficiency. It had already consumed the bodies of the dead vanguard, leaving no trail for the searchers to follow.
The labyrinth cleaners had done their work. Those roaches that Benny had encountered before, creatures that devoured everything organic left behind. They were the labyrinth's way of erasing evidence, of keeping itself pristine and unmarked by the violence within.
The rat men searchers found nothing. No bodies. No blood. No signs of the battle that had killed a hundred of their soldiers. Just empty corridors and the distant sounds of mutated creatures.
Eventually, they stopped coming as frequently. The searches became sporadic, then rare. The rat kingdom must have assumed their vanguard had been consumed by the labyrinth itself, victims of its monsters rather than organized resistance.
That suited Benny's group perfectly. Let them think the humans were scattered, weak, disorganized. Let them underestimate what was coming.
---
Weeks passed in the second floor sanctuary. Training. Planning. Preparing.
Torin crafted armor modifications that incorporated scorpion carapace plating in strategic locations. Lighter than full plate, but strong enough to deflect glancing blows. He forged weapons with better balance, better edges, better grips. Every piece of equipment was refined and improved.
Zy set up practice scenarios using makeshift traps, teaching the others how to recognize and exploit environmental advantages. Nida drilled them on silent movement and efficient killing strikes. Hiro demonstrated his dual blade techniques, showing how continuous motion could overwhelm defensive stances. Roman taught basic grappling and joint manipulation, techniques for when weapons failed or weren't available.
The group's combat effectiveness increased dramatically. They weren't just survivors anymore. They were becoming a fighting force.
Gustav organized tactical discussions, war-gaming different scenarios for the invasion. They studied the layout of the first floor, memorizing patrol routes and defensive positions. They identified weak points in the rat kingdom's security, places where a small force could inflict maximum damage.
Meredith worked on maintaining morale, ensuring that the mental strain of constant preparation didn't break anyone. She organized group meals, encouraged conversation, reminded them why they were doing this. Her role wasn't flashy, but it was vital.
Ripler continued to be Ripler, aggressive and confident, pushing everyone to their limits in combat training. His attitude was abrasive, but it kept everyone sharp. No one wanted to be the one who couldn't keep up with him.
Kael remained focused on revenge, channeling his anger into productive training rather than destructive rage. He became one of their most reliable fighters, cold and efficient in simulated combat.
Greaves, the old veteran, provided wisdom when younger heads got too hot. He'd seen expeditions fail before. He knew the warning signs of poor planning and overconfidence. His input kept their strategy grounded in reality.
And Benny? Benny kept working. Kept training. Kept pushing himself beyond what anyone thought possible for someone who called himself a coward.
He became better with his sword. Faster with his spear. More precise with his knife. His movements grew more confident, more fluid. He started landing hits in sparring matches, not often, but enough to prove he was improving.
The others noticed. The coward was becoming a warrior.
---
Finally, after weeks of preparation, Gustav called the group together.
"We're ready," he said simply. "Tomorrow, we move on the first floor. We strike the rat kingdom before they can send another force into the labyrinth. We end this."
The group responded with grim determination. No cheers. No celebrations. Just cold acceptance.
They had trained. They had prepared. They had sharpened themselves into weapons.
Now it was time to use those weapons.
The rat kingdom wouldn't know what hit them until it was too late.
And by then, the slaughter would have already begun