......This is Insane.

"......This is insane."

The effect summoned by Shred was so overwhelming that even Vulcan, who had cast it himself, was left momentarily speechless. No matter that it was a skill that sacrificed items—no matter that those items were Rare-grade—he hadn't expected this level of destructive power.

And thanks to the coincidental use of mana engraving to infuse them with telekinesis spells, he'd even pulled off something bordering on the divine. Of course, it guzzled a massive amount of mana in the process, but the sheer force had blasted a gaping hole in one side of the encirclement in an instant.

"I've still got nine shots left. You lizard brats."

Indeed, there were still nine longswords engraved with telekinesis spells remaining. As long as he had enough mana, that meant nine more throws—and nine more blasts.

'Mana battery's looking good......'

Replenishing his depleted mana with the high-capacity mana battery wasn't an issue. It wasn't infinite, so he'd have to manage it carefully, but that single blast had already shifted the momentum decisively in their favor.

"What the hell kinda skill is that?"

"He's nuts, totally nuts!"

"Unique class? No, Epic? What kinda insane firepower......"

Terror crept into the eyes ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of the lizardmen, who had been riding high like victory was assured. Vitality sparked in the eyes of the users, who had been half-given-up in their defensive struggle.

We can win. That possibility alone flipped the battlefield on its head.

"Shred!!"

Then, like driving in the final nail, Vulcan triggered Shred once more. It utterly demolished the encirclement on the other side, leaving what couldn't even be called a surround anymore. If anything, now it looked like the humans were blocking the lizardmen's retreat.

The lizardmen, horrified by Shred's power, instinctively pulled back from the flying metal shards—only to bunch up toward the humans' escape route.

"Don't let 'em go! Hang on tight!"

"Reinforcements are coming soon!!"

The users swiftly switched tactics. From desperately trying to break through, they shifted to pinning the enemy down and stopping their flight. They'd seen the explosion, so the main force would send backup any moment.

And sure enough, a dust cloud was already rising in the distance. The main force had spotted the disturbance and was rushing reinforcements.

"Focus on defense. I'll handle the offense!"

Vulcan noticed it too, but his orders to the squad were to solidify their defensive stance. Their combat power wasn't enough for aggressive plays like the users'—just clinging on was the best they could do. But he couldn't guarantee they'd pull off a no-casualty water ghost tactic.

That was why he'd ordered defense. Call it consideration for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠these immortals who'd been ready to throw their lives away to protect him—a mix of gratitude and apology.

"Power Throwing!"

Instead, Vulcan would cover multiple roles himself. He still needed a sword for defense, so he couldn't take all the telekinesis-engraved longswords, but he could have them thrown to him or recalled anytime. Grabbing just one, he charged the enemy.

He hurled the sword again, and the lizardmen—now traumatized—flinched in unison.

'Telekinesis.'

But what he threw was the Sun Sword. Not a grenade-like area sweep, but it pierced one lizardman warrior's heart, snuffing out his life instantly.

"Horizontal Slash."

Before they could process the feint, the sword returned to Vulcan's hand, slicing the flinching lizardmen's waists clean in two as they straightened up.

"Feels damn good!"

Piiing-!

The lizardmen weren't just taking it. A mana-charged arrow flew straight for Vulcan's head.

"Gah!!"

But it only pierced a fellow lizardman's throat. Bad aim? No. Even without Dragon Eye, Vulcan's vast combat experience and sharp instincts made it possible. He'd dodged purely on sense—then nudged the arrow's path with telekinesis.

"Die!!!"

"Whoooosh!"

Boom!

Follow-up attack spells came flying, but none touched him. The cursed arrows, levitated by telekinesis, orbited him like satellites, neutralizing the spells.

A wide-area spell with prep time might've been tough, but the panicked foes only hurled quick projectile curses—none landed.

"Kill him! We have to kill that guy!!"

By now, even the lizardmen considering retreat changed their minds. Or rather, they were forced to. They sensed they couldn't withdraw unscathed. If Vulcan pursued, an unprepared Shred barrage would cause unimaginable losses. And dying while fleeing to avoid death? Utter humiliation for them.

Cowardice or tactical retreat for victory was one thing—this was a dog's death. Lizardmen revered the strong, housed the souls of battlefield fallen within—but they rejected spirits who died fleeing like rats.

"Moths to a flame."

From Vulcan's view, it was welcome news. Their agility meant half might escape if they bolted seriously. Choosing to fight to the death? Walking experience piñatas.

"Warrior Spirit Descent!"

"Ghost Soul Fusion!"

But they weren't charging blindly. Confirming spells didn't work on Vulcan, they pivoted to buffs, empowering allies instead of direct attacks.

"Kyaaaaaaaah!!!!"

The buffs were extreme. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Warriors, hunters, assassins twisted. Gray new scales sprouted over green ones; yellow eyes rolled back, losing focus. Some tossed weapons, claws elongating as they lunged like beasts.

Possession Spell. An extreme ritual summoning lizardmen warriors' and heroes' souls from the earth, forcing them into the living. Bodies super-enhanced, but minds lost—and brutal aftereffects left survivors as vegetables. Self-immolation, burning everything white knowing it'd ruin them.

"Continuous Throw! Shred! Shred!!"

Vulcan didn't care. Their physical boosts might let them tank now, but he wasn't targeting the possessed.

"Kyak!!!"

His marks: rear shamans, momentarily off-guard after powering up. Killing casters wouldn't dispel active possessions, but it cut off backup and escape.

Hurling longswords in rapid succession and detonating Shred swept them ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠away. Non-possessed were dead or incapacitated. Stronger foes remained, but Vulcan already had them in his sights.

"This is why we herd 'em!"

- Now you get it? What it means to be this body's incarnation?

Experience poured in. How many levels since entering the arena? Natural against far higher-level lizardmen he massacred solo—but knowing the usual grind time had Vulcan grinning ear to ear.

"Druwa, druwa!"

Only eye-rolled possessed left. But mindless close-range rushes? Easy pickings for Vulcan, targeting him alone.

Slash!

Even enhanced, he wielded +9 Epic-grade gear. Attack power mismatch crushed them—claws snapped like twigs, scales crumpled like tofu. Their ace-in-hole backfired spectacularly.

Slash. Dodge and slash. Ignore and cleave. No need to block. Weapons shattered or bounced on contact, limbs severed—pointless.

In a trance, Vulcan cleaved relentlessly. Gorging experience like it'd vanish, vacuuming drops into inventory.

"Reinforcements arrived......!"

"......What the hell?"

"What happened here?"

Soon, the main force's rushed squad arrived. Meant to bolster, they could only gape at the devastated field.

Total annihilation. Lizardmen corpses mangled beyond recognition—no ally casualties.

"Regroup with the main force and re-equip. Find me after the arena ends—I'll forge new weapons."

"But...... Understood."

Vulcan, nonchalant amid the carnage, checked his squad and prepped. But he switched gears: instead of reclaiming telekinesis swords, he promised new ones post-arena and went solo.

Squad worried—their duty was escorting him—but they knew. They'd just drag him down. Combat gap confirmed; without telekinesis swords, useless.

"Be careful, Lord Vulcan."

Handing over remaining swords, they prayed for his safety.

"See ya later."

Pocketing the swords, Vulcan struck out alone. He'd considered confronting General Dorian immediately—but pointless. Or risky: if foul play, they might turn on him here.

'Respawn's easy, but fallout's messy. Better check after arena ends.'

Instead, distance from main force. Swamp terrain no issue for him; he'd watch reactions.

Guilt? They'd seek him, halt soul-harvesting.

'Need more samples anyway.'

Plus, a battle drop nagged him. From one ambusher: matched the glow he'd spotted entering. Key to this mess—he'd farm more during the arena.

'Assassinations? Piece of cake.'

Multiple sources: one for Alter, one for temple, one for himself—minimum three.

Shadow Hound Set and +9 Blessed Sun Sword. Dragon Eye spots carriers, kill, grab drop, extract. Or Shred everything.

'Wasteful, but not my gold anyway.'

If his swords, he'd hesitate—but arena-end return required. Donated, now Right Wall supplies.

Grateful for their sacrifice, new gear promised—but consumables in arena? Fair game.

For quest completion, more evidence intel needed. Vulcan plunged into swamp depths.

- Hmm. That's really all? Feels off.

'Hey! What do ya take me for? Sure, other goals—but let's skip that?'

Tud poked at his motives, but no big deal.