Are You Alright?

After the clash with Radin, Tud's condition didn't look great. His body was already translucent, but now it felt even fainter somehow. He wasn't showing it much—probably pride—but Vulcan could tell Tud was struggling pretty hard.

Damn it. That bastard drained way too much of my power.

He'd directly blocked and scattered the power unleashed by a god himself, which meant a massive loss on his end too. Honestly, Vulcan couldn't even wrap his head around how Tud had fended off Radin's divinity. A dragon was one thing, but the opponent was a god. Sure, stories sometimes mentioned dragon power rivaling the divine, but Vulcan had never bought it as truly equal—so this left him stunned and unsettled.

Probably, like Tud had said before, it was because he was right here attached to Vulcan, while the gods had to peer down from beyond the dimensional wall in the divine realm. Crossing dimensions to wield power already burned a ton of energy, making the block possible. Of course, that didn't mean Tud was anywhere near full strength.

"Can you recover?"

It'll be tough... I might be... done for... urk.

"What?! Isn't there some way?"

Just as Vulcan was mulling that over, Tud's words hit like a gut punch. Done for? Did that mean Tud was gonna vanish? Vulcan freaked out, jumping to his feet.

Losing Tud wouldn't erase his abilities, but who knew? It wasn't just some 'legacy' or shared class—Vulcan's was specifically 'Tud's Incarnation.' They might be bound like true soulmates in fate, so his panic made sense.

There is... a way... but...

"What is it? I'll save you no matter what."

Vulcan's eyes hardened at Tud's labored words. For his own sake too, he had to restore Tud—whatever it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠took.

I need... at least 500 chocolates to recover...!

"You little—!!"

Perfectly fine, that sneaky bastard. Vulcan realized he'd been played the second Tud slipped in his chocolate ploy. No doubt about it now—he was good as new.

"I already ordered the castle kitchens to prep a ton of chocolate treats for you, so hang in there just a bit."

Heh heh heh. Can't wait. That rich lord won't skimp on the grub.

But Vulcan couldn't fully let it slide. Sure, Tud seemed fine now, but that massive power drain was real.

"Hey, but what if this happens again? Other gods try forcing me as their apostle... can you block them every time?"

That worry popped up suddenly. With so many gods gunning for him, repeats could be brutal. What if Tud really burned out and vanished?

What're you on about?

"If other gods pull the same stunt... can you keep shielding me, Tud?"

Hmph. Paranoid much? Think those idiots are still eyeing you after one glance?

"Well, yeah, it could happen."

Waste of worry. After seeing cocky Radin take a hit, no one's trying that shit again. They hoard divinity like it's their lifeline—doles it out to gather followers for recovery.

"Huh?"

Doesn't look like much, but Radin burned a massive chunk. I can block a few more like that, so they're not dumb enough to test it. Fail, and they lose big divinity while someone else profits.

You lose power, rivals stay strong—church power gaps widen. No one dares first. Apostles aren't shareable, so no alliances from those cheapskates either.

"Ah..."

Now it clicked. Tud could only block a handful of times, but that deterrence worked since pioneers would get stonewalled. Sequential tries might snag Vulcan eventually, but no god would waste divinity weakening Tud first. End result: no apostles for anyone.

Vulcan nodded, understanding, then wrapped up prep chatter for the hunting tournament. He stuffed his inventory with chocolate cakes and treats from the castle kitchen, then headed to the entrance where the procession was forming. Soldiers and knights already lined up, awaiting him.

"Sorry I'm late. Where's the lord?"

"He'll be out soon."

Not late by schedule, but even Shairun the bishop was there early, so Vulcan summoned his mount and took position.

"Everyone assembled?"

"Yes, sir!!"

"Before we depart, I'll remind you all once more. This tournament honors Vulcan's merits in saving our lands per Radin's will. Treat and support him as you would me throughout!"

"Yes, sir!!!"

"Then move out!"

Raseu Count, arriving last, emphasized it again as promised, then led the procession. He rode upfront with Shairun and Vulcan, flanked by level 300+ guard knights. Behind: more knights, soldiers, and squires for the long outdoor event. A few users squeezed in near the squires.

With the rushed timeline, low-favor users got cut—plus Vanguard's crew was wiped. Basically no other players.

Better this way.

Fun bossing Vanguard users around like servants, but this was ideal. Solo exp monopoly, no info leaks via others. Friendship with Raseu Count might spark recruit attempts; slaying Vanguard (New Age's third army) could breed hate. Better stay low-key.

"Prey starting to show. You handle a bow alright?"

"Yes. Nothing impressive, but I'm practicing."

The procession barreled toward the lord's hunting grounds—all Raseu land, no obstacles. Entry kicked off the real tournament.

Heh heh heh heh!

Alerts flooded his view. And this wasn't the standard 'Hunting Tournament'—rushed for Vulcan, with the lord's all-in declaration, the quest itself transformed.

EXP buff upped to 2.5x from 2x. Full knight/soldier ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠support as expected, plus auto-loot delivery. Vulcan's lips twitched into a grin.

"You start us off. Nail the shot, and these guys finish 'em."

"If you insist..."

Taking the first shot, Vulcan pulled ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his bow with feigned reluctance.

"That one? I know artisans build strength, but... I can lend another if you want."

His Fluorescent Reinforced Sniper Longbow emerged huge and gorgeous from inventory. Raseu Count and Shairun both blinked in surprise. The glow was fine with escorts, but its massive, thick frame looked brutal to draw.

"No thanks. My skills are lacking, so I lean on raw strength for now."

Vulcan waved it off humbly, careful not to bruise egos.

Sniper Mode.

His archery wasn't half-bad, contrary to words. He'd bow-hunted for mob pulls before, plus Item Master boosted Bow Mastery. The longbow's own Sniper skill too.

Vision tunneled; distant foes zoomed close. Target: a gnoll—hyena-faced humanoid. Smart enough for weapons and packs, but this was the lord's private grounds. Bred for hunting: no gear, pure feral instinct. No challenge otherwise.

This too?

Focus locked, but Dragon Eye triggered unintended: a blinking parabolic 'path' appeared. Perfect arrow trajectory if released now.

Can't miss like this.

Twang!

Iron arrow launched. String snapped heavy, then rocketed to pierce the distant gnoll's thigh.

"Close, but hitting that range? Talent."

"Thank you."

Miss due to distance? Nah—Vulcan nailed his exact intent. Head/eye shots possible, but no need. Overkill might sting Raseu Count's pride; this was measured. Plus, fool distant user eyes.

"Keurk!!"

Injured gnoll and pack spotted Vulcan. Daunted by the masses? Nope—feral charge.

"Clean 'em up."

Raseu Count's curt order, and escorts moved like clockwork.

Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh—

Sky blackened with arrows from waiting soldiers.

"Grrr...."

"Cavalry charge!"

Survivors met thundering riders: heads lopped, bodies trampled, pack swept.

...This is broken. For real.

All their kills credited to Vulcan. Like VIP treatment—everything boosted his EXP fast.