Adam sprinted along a muddy pathway, pushing his enhanced agility to its limit. Looks like they’ve already started their hunt, he mused, eyeing the trail of fresh footprints stamped deep into the wet earth.

  If not for the delay with Hendrix’s party, maybe I would have—

  He cut the thought short with a shake of his head. Nothing changes. If anything, this works better for me. They do the hard work; I’ll take the profits.

  A grin curled behind his mask as he sped up.

  Within a heartbeat, he halted and slid behind a large rock.

  Peering around it, he spotted three figures near the edge of the sprawling swamp. They crouched on the bank, gathering something from the water.

  Are they from Raventhorn?

  Adam watched silently. The trio was scavenging viper corpses.

  His brows lifted. It seems they’re here to profit off leftovers…

  Swamp Viper parts weren’t as valuable as Baccarras parts, but they still fetched good money in Gido’s markets.

  Revealing myself now would be annoying. Best to slip past using illusions.

  He prepared to move—until their voices drifted toward him.

  “Who would’ve thought we’d get such a haul doing nothing?” one man laughed loudly.

  “Keep your voice down, idiot,” another hissed. “Grab what you can and let’s go before they come back.”

  They chuckled together and kept working.

  “Hey, look over there,” the third man pointed at a dark section of the water. “Is the swamp… bubbling?”

  All three snapped their heads toward it.

  “It’s really bubbling…”

  “That’s enough. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Adam squinted at the spot but saw nothing. There were no reports about bubbling swamps…

  A cold knot tightened in his chest as he recalled the system warning about potential dungeon growth.

  This could be bad.

  “Prame! What are you doing?” one scavenger shouted. “Let’s go!”

  “I hear ya. Just one more. Won’t make a difference.”

  “Don’t be greedy!”

  But Prame ignored him. He reached for a larger-than-normal viper corpse floating near the shore.

  The moment his fingers touched its tail… it moved.

  “What the—?! It’s alive! Run!”

  Prame flinched and stumbled back, but the swamp viper surged forward, twisting in an unnatural arc before lunging for his throat. He vanished beneath the surface instantly, dragged down by an unseen force.

  The other two fled in blind panic—only to sink with soft, wet plops as invisible grips yanked them into the depths.

  Their screams died just as quickly.

  Adam stared at the spot where they had stood moments before. The corpses they had collected began to twitch… then move.

  Crafty bastards.

  He recognized the tactic immediately. Raventhorn had mixed incapacitated vipers with real corpses to trap scavengers.

  System, enter Stealth Mode.

  [STEALTH MODE: CON 0 (–20) | AGI 63 (+35) | END 55 (+25) | DEX 0 (–20) | STR 0 (–20)]

  Adam smiled behind his mask. With a thought, he activated Illusion Inducement. His silhouette blurred, and he exploded into motion, leaping from tree to tree, avoiding the awakening vipers.

  He paused atop a thick branch, eyes narrowing at the blackened water.

  They said the swamp was bubbling. Why don’t I see anything?

  It didn’t fit. Awakening vipers couldn’t cause this.

  He peered deeper into the swamp’s dark expanse.

  Should I wait here… or at the Baccarras’ den?

  A system chime cut through his thoughts.

  [Potential Source of Danger Detected]

  A wet, gurgling rumble rolled across the swamp. Then, crimson light pulsed beneath the water.

  Adam’s muscles locked. This heat… no way—

  He retreated immediately.

  He barely got two hundred feet toward solid ground when a towering pillar of flame erupted, blocking his path.

  Adam froze on a nearby tree as charred bodies surfaced from the boiling waters—vipers, scavengers, and even vipers hiding inside the scavengers’ corpses. Nothing had survived.

  Another explosion rocked the swamp. The water churned violently.

  Something was rising.

  Pitch-black. Red claws like obsidian blades. Over seven feet long. A salamander breached the surface, burning from within.

  This wasn’t in the damn report.

  Adam groaned.

  System, retrieve Cataclysm and Familiar. Shift into Battle Mode.

  He ignored the system confirmation. A towering, horned silhouette materialized beside him, his Familiar, radiating raw, violent presence.

  Cataclysm formed in his hands like gathering smoke.

  Another burst of flame shook the area. Several more magma-coated salamanders emerged, far larger and more menacing than the first.

  This time, all seven turned their molten-gold eyes toward Adam.

  He felt it immediately; old, instinctive hatred curled inside their gaze.

  Unranked Demonkins. Can the Familiar handle them?

  He glanced at the aberration. The creature stared at the salamanders with silent, eager bloodlust, waiting for a command.

  Adam straightened.

  “Handle the ones on this side,” he said. “I’ll take the rest.”

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  The Familiar unleashed a bestial roar and hurled itself toward the salamanders.

  The Familiar slammed into the nearest salamander, sending a spray of boiling water into the air. Adam leapt from the tree the instant the creatures reacted, dropping like a shadow onto the trunk of another. The heat was suffocating—every breath burned his lungs.

  A fireball streaked toward him.

  Adam twisted, narrowly avoiding the sizzling sphere as it smashed into the tree behind him. The trunk exploded in a shower of embers, and the shockwave nearly hurled him into the churning swamp below.

  They’re faster than they look.

  Two salamanders skittered across the water as if it were solid ground, their claws glowing red-hot as they lunged. Adam blurred to the side, his feet barely touching the bark. Cataclysm carved a vicious arc—one salamander shrieked, body mummifying as black ichor sprayed, but its molten blood hissed violently against his blade.

  The heat blasted him like an oven. Adam recoiled, barely shielding his face with his forearm.

  A second salamander barreled into him.

  He didn’t even see it coming.

  The creature’s massive body slammed him through a tree.

  Adam hit the waters hard enough for his ribs to crack.

  His vision blurred.

  Before he could rise, the salamander charged again—red claws slashing. Adam rolled, mud splashing into his eyes. The claws carved a deep trench where his head had been. He coughed blood, forcing himself onto his knees.

  Cataclysm pulsed faintly in his grip.

  “These… fucking lizards!”

  Another salamander lunged from behind. Adam ducked low, sweeping Cataclysm through the creature’s exposed throat. The blade met resistance—dense scales, hardened by molten core—but his augmented strength tore through. The salamander screeched, thrashing violently as its lifeblood steamed into the swamp, then it ruptured in a violent pop.

  He didn’t get to breathe.

  A massive tail, like a molten whip, caught him across the chest. Adam’s breath left him in a choke. He flew back, bounced across the water’s surface, and sank into the boiling sludge.

  The swamp burned him instantly.

  Adam kicked upward, bursting out with a gasp. A fireball exploded beside him, splashing him with boiling water. Pain tore across his back.

  Above, the Familiar roared.

  Adam looked up and his heart nearly stopped.

  The Familiar was surrounded.

  Three salamanders had pinned it between a fallen tree and a jut of rock, slashing its flesh with molten claws. Its body regenerated slowly, but every hit forced it into the swamp. One salamander latched onto its arm and ripped a chunk out.

  The Familiar howled.

  “Hold on!”

  Adam surged through the water—just as another salamander’s jaws snapped beside him. He ducked, thrusting Cataclysm upward. The blade pierced the soft flesh beneath its chin, and Adam dragged the weapon through the skull, splitting it. Blackened bone cracked, and the creature dropped into the swamp.

  He couldn’t celebrate.

  A pillar of flame erupted behind him as a salamander on the shore inhaled deeply and released a stream of fire—not just a fireball—an entire jet. The swamp hissed violently as trees caught fire in rapid succession, turning the area into a blazing inferno.

  Except for a few patches of black swamp water that refused to ignite.

  Adam dove toward one of them, using the cooler pockets as cover. The fire washed overhead, cooking the air.

  Before he rose, something seized his ankle.

  He was yanked deeper—into complete darkness.

  Adam kicked wildly. His lungs screamed as heat pressed against him. The salamander dragged him down like an anchor. Its claws dug into his leg, slicing through armor and skin.

  Adam activated Illusion Inducement at full force.

  The water distorted. The creature faltered for a second, its grip loosened.

  Adam tore himself free and shot upward, exploding from the swamp like a launched spear. As he rose, he hurled Cataclysm downward. The blade spun through the air and impaled the salamander’s skull.

  He didn’t land gracefully. He crashed onto a dying tree, gasping and bleeding.

  The Familiar barreled past him in a blur, slamming both fists into a salamander trying to flank him. The impact shattered part of the creature’s torso, but another salamander pounced from the side and dragged the Familiar back into the swamp, its jaws clamped around its neck.

  “Damn it!”

  Adam sprinted forward, but a wall of fire surged between them. Another salamander breathed a tide of flames, scorching its surroundings. Smoke filled Adam’s lungs.

  The swamp beneath him bubbled even harder.

  More salamanders were emerging.

  Dozens.

  Their hatred-filled eyes locked onto him as they crawled over burning corpses and charred trunks. Flames poured from their jaws, turning the swamp into a labyrinth of boiling rivers and blazing islands.

  Adam wiped blood from his eyes and steadied his breathing.

  He wasn’t winning this. Not here. Not on open ground.

  “Fall back!” he roared at the Familiar.

  The creature, half-melted and regenerating slowly, punched a salamander aside and tore free from the others. It bounded over burning logs toward Adam.

  Another fireball crashed beside them. Mud exploded. Trees toppled.

  Adam’s heart pounded as they darted deeper into the swamp, weaving through pockets of water that refused to burn—natural sanctuaries in the inferno.

  The salamanders pursued relentlessly, lighting the world behind him ablaze.

  More salamanders lunged at Adam and the Familiar as they retreated. Jet streams of fire and bursting fireballs tore through the swamp from every direction, gradually reshaping the terrain into a hellscape inferno.

  Adam vaulted from branch to branch, refusing to touch the water unless absolutely necessary. The Magma Salamanders were one thing, whatever else lurked beneath the dark sludge was another entirely.

  Another cluster of salamanders surged ahead to block his path. Adam raised both axes to greet them. He hacked and cleaved mercilessly, carving through their molten hides and forcing open a narrow escape route. With Slayer active, each kill sharpened his efficiency, every motion faster, cleaner, more lethal than the last.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Adam caught movement in the far distance.

  That’s Raventhorn.

  Gallien’s unmistakable build stood out instantly, mask removed and face soaked in sweat and soot. The group froze for half a heartbeat—until four of them suddenly broke away, sprinting at full speed. Gallien was among them. The remaining members stared in stunned silence before panic overtook them, and they fled frantically as well.

  These assholes think they can use me as bait, huh?

  Adam sneered as he sidestepped a lunging salamander. His left hand lashed out instinctively. The creature’s neck ballooned grotesquely, then popped like an overfilled blister.

  Adam didn’t linger.

  His form blurred from the salamanders’ vision. The creatures craned their necks in confusion, unable to track him, until they noticed the fleeing Awakened.

  They gave chase as one.

  A cacophony of explosions and guttural screams erupted as the Magma Salamanders crashed into the scattering Awakened.

  Adam and the Familiar, no longer obscured by illusion inducement, pursued Gallien’s group directly. He was certain the Baccarras’ bones—and the queen’s heart—were with one of them. Naturally, more than twenty Magma Salamanders chased him instead. Drawn by the title: Hated One, their attacks were rabid, relentless, and suicidally ferocious.

  "You fucking Varidan dog! You did this purposely, right?!" Gallien roared, ducking under a lunging salamander and slicing its neck cleanly with a single fluid stroke.

  “Us Awakened should stick together in times like this…” Adam retorted dryly as he buried an axe in another salamander’s heart.

  “You’re lucky I don’t have your time! I’d show you what it means to face true higher power!” Gallien snarled, cleaving through two creatures at once in a brutal flourish.

  Despite being relatively close in the burning swamp, neither man could confront the other directly. Waves of Magma Salamanders surged between them—each dripping molten fury, each eager to die tearing someone apart.

  Adam and the Familiar continued carving through the onslaught. Adam’s gaze flicked between the battling figures ahead. Gallien moved with terrifying ease; his glistening sword leaving silver arcs that bisected salamanders like soft fruit.

  This bastard is ridiculously strong… at least C-rank, Adam realized immediately.

  Yet it was the man beside him who caught Adam’s attention: a frog-voiced Awakened who emitted rhythmic croaks.

  Each croak muddled the salamanders’ focus, staggering them and allowing Gallien and another man with flaming gauntlets to butcher the confused beasts.

  His attention shifted to the last member of the four-man squad, the only one who hadn’t engaged in combat. The others guarded him like treasure.

  He must be the one with the heart and bones, Adam concluded.

  He felt no uncertainty.

  "What would someone from Raventhorn know about higher power?” Adam taunted. “Your entire guild can’t even compare to Varidan’s leftovers.”

  "Shut your mouth!" Gallien snapped.

  [Potential Sources of Danger Detected]

  Gallien’s aura detonated like a pressure bomb.

  His sword erupted into blinding radiance; light that swallowed half the swamp in a single flash.

  Adam saw lines—thin, merciless truths of destruction—tearing through everything in their path. They carved through trees, water, mud, salamanders, and they were coming straight for him.

  The Familiar moved instantly, stepping before Adam, and then the world split.

  Light faded.

  But the sound lingered: the shredding of flesh, the collapse of trees, the splatter of water violently displaced.

  Everything within a hundred meters of Gallien’s position had been minced; reduced to unrecognizable fragments. Salamanders were diced into meat cubes; burning trees collapsed like brittle sticks. Only the Familiar remained.

  Barely.

  Both of its arms were gone. Massive fissures ran along its form, its entire upper body one impact away from crumbling.

  Gallien’s cold eyes swept the ruined swamp, searching for Adam. Finding nothing.

  "Are you guys okay?" he called.

  “We ducked in time, Sir,” his men replied shakily as they resurfaced from the blackened waters. “Your attack cleared a path for us. Shall we proceed?”

  "Take the lead. Vacatus, stay close to Boko. I’ll cover the rear. Let’s move before—"

  The swamp trembled violently.

  A blistering heatwave swept outward as the black waters began to boil, turning entire sections crimson.

  Gallien’s knuckles whitened on his longsword.

  “Leave—now!”

  The command had barely left his mouth when the surface exploded outward.

  A massive monstrosity rose, a towering fifteen-foot titan of molten flesh, orange and red like flowing magma. Crimson slit-eyes locked onto Gallien. Steam hissed from its nostrils with every breath.

  Behind it, more than twenty smaller Magma Salamanders surfaced, forming a wall of living fire.

  "Aaron. Vacatus. Boko must get out of here," Gallien ordered, stepping forward without hesitation.

  "S-sir, w-what about—?"

  "Do as you're told," Gallien snapped. “Leave. Now.”

  The trio fled.

  The salamanders didn’t chase. They stared only at Gallien as though he was the only prey worth killing.

  Gallien paused mid-step. The Salamander King turned its head sharply. Two of its kin vanished beneath the water, leaving only widening ripples—no struggle, no sound, and no trace.