The wind howling through the Gray Peak Mountains was sharper than any blade. It carried the scent of sulfur and old, stagnant water—the smell of the abandoned copper mines where the Red Clay Bandits had made their nest.
Lencar crouched on a jagged outcrop of rock, overlooking the mine entrance. His breath misted in the freezing air, but his body was burning with a quiet, intense heat. He wasn't a machine running a program tonight. He was a hunter who had willingly walked into a den of wolves.
He checked his mana reserves. Stage 6 (Peak).
He checked his body. Forged.
"Ten targets," Lencar whispered, his voice barely audible over the wind. "No mistakes."
He didn't warp in. He didn't charge. He slid down the scree slope, using [Wind Magic] to silence the shifting stones, and slipped into the mouth of the mine.
Inside, the air was thick with smoke from campfires. The bandits were relaxed. They were confident. Lencar spotted the lookouts first—Vix, the lightning user, and Bim, the water mage—playing cards on a crate near the entrance.
Lencar moved.
He didn't use a spell. He used the raw, explosive speed of his physically cultivated legs. He blurred from the shadows, a dark projectile aimed straight at Vix.
Thud.
A heavy, mana-reinforced chop to the carotid artery. Vix crumpled without a sound.
Bim opened his mouth to shout, but Lencar's hand was already there, clamping over his face. With a fluid motion, Lencar slammed Bim's head into the stone wall. The water mage went limp.
Two down. Eight to go.
But silence in a mine carries well. The thud of Bim's head against the wall echoed.
"Oi! Vix? You drop the bottle again?" a voice shouted from deeper in the cavern.
Kael, the steel mage, stepped into the light. He saw the bodies. He saw Lencar.
"INTRUDER!" Kael screamed, his grimoire snapping open. "Steel Magic: Iron Maiden's Lance!"
A spear of jagged steel shot from the ground. Lencar side-stepped it, the metal grazing his cloak.
The element of surprise was gone. The mine erupted into chaos.
"Kill him!"
"Burn the rat!"
"Don't let him reach the exit!"
Spells began to fly from every direction. Fireballs from Rorg and Sola illuminated the dark cavern in strobe-light flashes of orange. Ice shards from Mira coated the floor in treacherous slickness.
Lencar was instantly on the back foot.
Analysis: Too many variables. Evasion is priority.
He weaved through the barrage. He didn't use high-level magic. He couldn't afford to. Every ounce of mana had to be rationed.
[Wind Magic] : [Air Cushion]
He deflected a fireball.
[Earth Magic]: [Stone Buckler]
He blocked a spray of ice needles.
"Surround him!" Boran's voice boomed like an earthquake. The leader stood at the back, a massive figure clad in heavy furs. "Silas! Lock the exit!"
Silas, the spatial mage, raised his hand. A distortion field rippled across the mine entrance.
Good, Lencar thought, grinning behind his mask as he ducked under a whip of water. You locked me in. But you also locked yourselves in with me.
The fight dragged on. One minute. Five minutes. Eight minutes.
Lencar was moving on instinct now. His "System" was struggling to keep up with the sheer chaos of combat. He took a hit—a glancing blow from a steel rod that cracked his left rib. He grunted, the pain sharp and blinding, but he used the momentum to spin and deliver a [Wind Magic]: [Vacuum Palm] to Rorg's solar plexus. The fire mage went down, gasping.
"That's three!" Lencar counted, spitting blood.
He was bleeding from a cut on his forehead. His tunic was scorched. But he was methodical. He targeted the weak links.
He baited Jinto (Plant Magic) into extending his vines, then used [Fire Magic]: [Ember Trace] to burn them back to the source. Jinto panicked, flailing, and Lencar knocked him out with a roundhouse kick.
Ten minutes in. Lencar was panting heavily. His mana was dipping below 20%.
He had incapacitated seven of them. Only Kael (Steel), Silas (Spatial), and Boran (Earth) remained standing.
"You... you little monster!" Kael roared, his steel armor dented from where Lencar had hit him with a rock. "Die! Steel Creation: Sword Rain!"
Dozens of steel blades formed in the air.
Lencar's eyes widened. He didn't have the mana to block that.
He dove forward. He slid across the icy patch Mira had created earlier, passing under the flying swords. He popped up directly in front of Kael.
"Too slow," Lencar wheezed.
He didn't use magic. He headbutted Kael. The sound of skull meeting steel-reinforced nose was sickening. Kael dropped like a sack of hammers.
Silas screamed in terror and tried to open a portal to flee.
Lencar threw a dagger—one he had picked up from the floor. It wasn't aimed to kill. It pinned Silas's robe to the wooden support beam.
"Stay," Lencar growled.
Then, the ground shook.
[Earth Creation Magic]: [Grand Rock Fist]
A massive fist of stone slammed into Lencar from the side. He flew across the cavern, smashing into a pile of mining carts.
"Gah!" Lencar coughed, tasting copper. His vision swam.
Boran stepped forward. The bandit leader was bleeding from a dozen small cuts, but he looked like a demon. His mana was surging.
"You took out my whole crew," Boran rumbled, his voice thick with rage. "A kid. A single, mana-less looking kid."
Lencar pulled himself up on the side of the cart. His legs were shaking. His mana reserves were flashing red. Empty. He had nothing left for spells.
"I... Guess I am Different," Lencar choked out.
"Different?" Boran spat. "You're a corpse."
Boran's grimoire glowed with a heavy, brown light. He knew Lencar was fast. He had seen Lencar dodge fire and lightning. He knew he couldn't hit the boy with projectiles.
"I won't miss this," Boran snarled. "Earth Reinforcement Magic: Titan's Skin."
Rock and dirt crawled up Boran's legs, covering his skin in a layer of hardened, mana-infused armor. He turned himself into a living siege weapon.
"No more tricks," Boran roared. "Man to man!"
He charged.
Lencar looked at the charging giant. He had no mana for a shield. He had no mana for a blast.
He smiled. A bloody, feral smile.
"Man to man," Lencar agreed.
He dropped his stance. He deactivated all magical enhancement. He relied solely on the ten years of Mana-Forging—the muscle fibers he had torn and rebuilt thousands of times.
Boran threw a punch that could shatter a wall. Lencar stepped inside the guard.
Impact.
Lencar took the hit on his shoulder. It felt like being hit by a carriage. His collarbone screamed. But he didn't fly back. He grounded his stance, his feet cracking the stone floor.
He grabbed Boran's armored arm.
"Hard," Lencar gritted his teeth. "But brittle."
Lencar didn't punch the armor. He struck the joint—the armpit, where the rock skin was thinnest to allow movement.
Crack.
Boran roared in pain, his arm going limp.
They traded blows for another brutal minute. It was a ugly, desperate brawl. Lencar was faster, but Boran was invincible. Lencar's knuckles were raw and bloody from punching stone skin. Boran's face was a mask of bruises.
Finally, Boran overextended. He tried a double-handed smash.
Lencar saw the opening. The fatigue vanished for a split second, replaced by pure tactical clarity.
He ducked. He drove his fist upward—an uppercut powered by his legs, his hips, his back—slamming directly into Boran's chin.
The shockwave rattled Boran's brain inside his skull. The bandit leader's eyes rolled back. The rock armor crumbled into dust.
Boran fell backward. Crash.
Silence returned to the mine.
Lencar stood there for one second, two seconds. Then, his legs gave out. He collapsed onto the cold, dirty floor, lying amidst the unconscious bodies of his enemies. He stared up at the dark ceiling, his chest heaving, his lungs burning.
"Fifteen minutes," Lencar gasped, closing his eyes. "Cutting it close."
He lay there, bleeding, exhausted, completely drained. But alive.