Sudden Ambush

The ambush came without warning. The enemy had equipped gear that summoned a magical protective barrier just in case, but it was utterly powerless against the Arrow of Negation.

The thin black shield shattered pathetically, and though he twisted his neck in panic, a chunk of flesh tore away as a hole punched straight through his throat.

"Power of Fire."

Whoosh! Sizzle—!

Black energy surged from the pierced wound, desperately trying to stave off instant death and heal the injury, but the sacred flames interfered. As the antithesis to the enemy's demonic energy, it disrupted all beneficial effects and amplified the damage.

And Vulcan's assault didn't end there.

"Focused Strike!"

One of Vulcan's rare combat skills activated. It hammered the same spot repeatedly, ballooning the damage. If the next strike missed the precise location, the skill canceled automatically—but until then, it boosted both attack power and speed to terrifying levels.

Stab! Stab! Stab!!

No one could block Vulcan's lightning-fast sword thrusts. Their levels were decent, but none had close-combat classes.

‘Careless fools.’

Perhaps because they never planned to fight up front? Dragon Eye revealed their classes: all spellcasters and manipulators—dark mages, shadow priests, necromancers, that sort. Needless to say, they weren't agile. By the time they stammered "Wh-what?!" Vulcan's blade had pierced the chest of the one called Seeker of Corruption multiple times.

"D-Dark Ball!"

"Dark Spear!!"

They fired off low-tier spells with short casts, but it meant nothing.

‘Telekinesis.’

The Arrow of Negation orbited Vulcan like a satellite, pulverizing every incoming spell. Whoosh—magic tore and exploded in midair. Mana scattered like deflated wind, vanishing harmlessly.

"Gaaargh!!!"

Vulcan seized the opening and finished the job. He stabbed the wound again, gouging the hole in his chest to rack up even more damage. And the weapon he'd chosen was Death Serpent—one that amplified pain and damage with each consecutive hit. The harm snowballed in seconds. No tank could withstand it.

‘Get cocky, and you die.’

To top it off, the bastard had rotten luck. The 0.1% instant-death proc triggered. The humanoid boss monster, bearer of the title ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Seeker of Corruption, succumbed to that irresistible force of death, turning into a cold corpse.

A pathetic end. Vulcan had checked beforehand—he wasn't a lich like the last one—so no worries about revival.

"No way…!"

"Kill him! Kill the bastard!!"

Vulcan figured the leaderless goons would scatter, but disappointingly, they didn't. Realizing they couldn't shrug off his close-combat prowess, they threw everything they had at him.

Clang!

Magic was useless. Non-projectile spells might work, but regular attack magic? No dice. The moment they realized that, they pulled items from their inventories and hurled them at Vulcan.

None hit properly, but potion vials shattered, spilling vile liquids across the floor.

‘What the hell?’

Ash's Blessing nullified most status effects, but Vulcan had no intention of testing it firsthand. He dodged with quick footwork, slashing at another foe while snatching a flying ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠potion midair.

‘Decay Potion? Blocks all recovery effects?’

It was a potion type even Vulcan had never seen. Only 20 seconds' duration, but in combat, that was an eternity. And as a potion, no cooldown—spam away.

Get hit with a barrage? No healing for the entire fight.

—Filthy bastards pulling filthy tricks from dirty ingredients to shady brewing methods.

‘Hm?’

Tud, peering at the item info alongside him, grumbled in disgust. Odd—he couldn't see the crafting recipe. That meant even old Tud hadn't known it before, yet now he pierced right through it. Dragon Eye on another level.

Could Vulcan rank his up someday and see like that too? A flicker of anticipation rose, but now wasn't the time for daydreams.

He'd ask Tud for the recipe later. For now, he tossed it into inventory and swung his sword faster.

"Damn it! Why won't it hit?!"

"Corpse Skin!"

"Demonize!"

After two more dropped, they switched tactics. Potions were pointless if he dodged or telekinetically snatched them—so they started using them on themselves. Transforming flesh into undead-like husks or channeling demons for power boosts.

Not true undeath or demonhood, of course. Just temporary structural shifts via demonic energy. Layered with debuff potions, it paradoxically fueled even greater strength.

"Tch."

Clang!

Vulcan's attack was blocked for the first time. He'd assumed no melee classes meant easy pickings, but that prediction crumbled. Elongated, razor-sharp claws or pain-immune hides turned the tide—strikes started glancing off.

"You idiots made a mistake!"

But Vulcan countered instantly. He swapped Death Serpent for the Blessed Sun Sword.

No skill amp mattered, but raw power and recovery suppression still applied. Plus, as a divinely blessed blade, it brimmed with holy might.

"Power of Fire!"

Holy flames erupted atop it—rat poison to these fiends. Strikes now landed like thunder.

"Gaaargh!!!"

Their self-inflicted buffs backfired, devouring them. Flames fed on their bodies and enhancements, roaring higher. The sword's divine blessing was potent, but Vulcan himself bore blessings from multiple gods, plus temple gear and Divine Marks. Their resistance? Mere kindling.

"…Incinerate."

"…?"

Finally, they made their last stand. Spotting allies burning one by one, someone barked the order—and they moved in unison.

"Evil Spirit Summon!"

A few blocked Vulcan while gathering foul energies to summon wraiths. Ethereal, immune to physical hits—but against his holy power? No match. Yet they poured everything in anyway.

"Burning Soul!"

They even ignited their own bodies. Mana and life force as fuel, unleashing forbidden might. Suicide pact—they charged to embrace him in death.

"You crazy bastards?!"

"Everyone, over here! Kill him!!"

And that wasn't all. They herded the stunned, huddled kidnapped artisans from the corner. Mind-controlled puppets, ordered to attack Vulcan. Figured he'd hesitate to harm his rescue targets.

"Nice try. Agility Boost! Air Walk!"

But Vulcan wasn't falling for it. He'd seen through their ploy. He jacked his agility sky-high and activated Air Walk, levitating above the reckless horde.

"Grab him! Chase the bas—Gurk!!"

He didn't forget telekinesis, slamming an Arrow of Negation into the commander's maw. Kill the puppeteer, and puppets collapse—basic stuff.

The arrow pierced his jaw, pursuing Vulcan. The artisans' advance halted dead.

"Damn it! Hurry! Burn everything!!"

Vulcan could've swept them in a straight fight, but he evaded for a reason: pursue the runners fleeing deeper while others stalled him.

The "Incinerate" order meant they'd abandoned survival. They'd sacrifice themselves to erase traces here.

Wipe records, destroy evidence. Similar research ran elsewhere—if he couldn't snag results, they'd torch it all before countermeasures emerged.

"Stop!"

They didn't hesitate, setting research logs and outputs ablaze.

"Damn!"

Too late. Extinguish with potions? But they were all-in, ready to dive into flames or self-immolate to finish the job.

—Use that.

Vulcan bit his lip, accelerating, as Tud tossed advice. No specifics, but Vulcan got it instantly.

"Flame Control!"

He ditched Shadow Hound's gloves for Legendary Craftsman's Workshop Gloves, activating the embedded Flame Control skill.

"N-No?!"

"The fire—why?!"

Miraculously, flames that threatened to raze everything coalesced and surged toward them. Not a spark touched what they'd meant to burn. Some ash was inevitable, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but the fire no longer obeyed them.

"S-Spare me!!!!"

They'd succeeded, in a way—they burned to death in their own blaze. Vulcan's sword helped a bit, but realizing most targets survived intact sealed their fate.

"A bit singed, but I can make it out."

Vulcan secured the scene, inventorying everything before more tricks. The gloom-energy magic circle was wrecked, but other data and results were salvageable.

"Want this? Come get it!"

Just remnants left. Most had burned out their lives with forbidden power—self-destructing soon enough. No rush, but to shield the dazed artisans, Vulcan taunted, waving a research sheet to draw their eyes.