[Chapter 220. Drawn focus]

His boots crunched against the floor with each step, the sound echoing in the silence as he navigated the winding tunnel. Each footfall created a cascade of crystalline shards that skittered across the floor, the only sound breaking the monotony of distant magma hissing. The air grew thicker with each step he took, heavy with sulfur and heat, making his breathing shallow. Around the next bend, where the tunnel opened into a broader passage, the source of the rising heat became apparent. Another pack of magma turtles waited beside a small stream of magma falling from the ceiling, their basalt-like shells pulsing with fiery orange light. Six of them stood arranged in a loose formation that suggested an ambush point.

The fight played out just as the last, but this time his approach was honed by the lessons of the previous encounter. He wasted no time adjusting his tactics, his mind mapping out the sequence of attacks with cold precision. His drones surged forward without hesitation. Their violet and crimson beams struck the exposed necks and leg joints of the turtles with deadly accuracy. Each impact sent shrapnel flying, the fragments glowing orange at their edges before cooling to a dull gray in the scorching air. The magma turtles retaliated with a relentless spray of molten rock, but his defensive drone's barrier absorbed the assault, its hexagonal patterns glowing brighter under each impact.

The battle became a methodical execution, each shot fired with a precision bordering on surgical. He directed his drones with subtle mental commands, their responses efficient. One turtle fell, then another, their basalt shells cracking like thunder. The remaining four attempted to create another wall of volcanic rock, but Searanox anticipated this, overcharging his offensive drone before they could complete their construction. The twin beams lanced through the partially formed barrier, shattering two turtles in a spray of shrapnel. The final two fell, their death throes echoing through the tunnel until the last turtle collapsed, its glowing essence dissolving into the air in a swirl of system energy. The cavern fell silent once more, save for the distant hiss of cooling magma and the faint hum of his drones as they maintained their vigilant formation around him.

In the next chamber—a large open cavern with a twisting walkway through pools of magma—he was glad he had the ring of fire resistance. The heat in this place would have been intense without it. The air shimmered above the magma pools, distorting his vision of the far side of the cavern. Soon after entering, he encountered something he knew he would face again. From a distance, he made out a squad of humanoid shapes. Their red scales reflected the orange light of the chamber that glistened, reminding him of blood on black stone. Their forms were taller than humans, standing nearly three meters in height, with sleek, dark red scales that seemed to drink the light and emit a faint glow of their own.

They sat around a smaller pool of magma in what appeared to be a conversation. Their movements were deliberate, their gestures sharp. As he watched, he noted the crude but effective obsidian weapons they carried—short blades and jagged spearheads gleaming with deadly intent. Further down the walkway, he saw other shapes moving; there were at least four squads of them in this room alone, their numbers suggesting a coordinated defense of the chamber. He focused on them and triggered another System Window that filled his vision, the text appearing as translucent blue letters against the backdrop of the glowing cavern.

Searanox noted the makeshift weapons in their hands, obsidian blades that gleamed ominously in the hellish light of the magma pools. One of the creatures stood taller, with scales of deeper crimson that seemed to absorb the ambient heat rather than reflect it. That told him all he needed to know: this would play out just as it had in the Tidal Terrace, where the stronger variant directed the others. This time, however, he had the advantage of numbers on his side, with his larger drone squadron providing the flexibility his earlier expeditions had lacked.

`One Greater and six Lesser. They will use some kind of team tactic. I see two with shields at their sides, and one with a long polearm. Two appear to have swords; I cannot make out a weapon on the last one.`

His mind calculated threat assessments, noting how the shields would likely form a defensive wall while the others would attempt to flank or exploit gaps in his defenses.

He made his way into the chamber. The light from the magma pools gave the space an intense atmosphere, casting shadows that danced like spirits across the walls. Once upon the walkway, Searanox thought of how hot it must have been in here without the ring he had just acquired. To stand in a cave composed mostly of molten stone meant the temperature matched an active volcano. The ring's magic felt like a pocket of winter against the furnace that surrounded him.

His five drones took position. The defensive drone took the front while the other four flanked his sides, their mechanical forms creating a stark contrast to the scaled humanoids. Then, they opened fire. Their beams pierced the air, a mix of violet and crimson that illuminated the cavern in brief, violent flashes.

The two humanoid beasts with shields sprang up with superhuman speed. Their shields glowed a dull red as they absorbed the energy. Two beams impacted the shields directly, the energy dispersing across the obsidian surfaces, while the other shots landed on a shimmering field of thermal energy that appeared between the shield-bearers—something similar to his own barrier. Only one shot got through, striking a Salamander in its torso, leaving behind a nasty burned crater in its scale-covered flesh that sizzled in the heated air.

The two shield-bearers advanced, followed by four others. The one that stayed behind knelt over the wounded beast and began to chant in a language he had not heard before, guttural sounds that seemed to draw heat from the very air. The flesh of the wounded creature stitched itself back together, the burned crater closing like a time-reversed wound.

`A healer. That's great.`

The thought carried the weight of grim resignation as he watched the wounded warrior rise to its feet, its scales regaining their luster.

With a thought, he sent his drones further out over the glowing pools at the side of the wide walkway, attempting to gain an altitude advantage and bypass the shield wall. The moment they hovered above the pools, he noticed an anomaly in his mental connection. They were taking damage; their integrity was falling. Their hulls on the underside began to emit a soft glow as they heated up, the thermal energy from below seeping through their armor plating like a slow poison.

He pulled them back toward him, the connection screaming warnings of structural damage. He felt that they were damaged—not severely, but enough to cause concern for prolonged combat. Sending them out over the liquid was not viable, a tactical limitation that could prove costly against a coordinated force designed to block off any advance.

In the meantime, the Salamanders had advanced to a point where they were only a few meters away. Their clawed feet scraped against the walkway with a sound like nails on stone. The previously wounded beast now stood beside the others, its scales glowing with renewed vitality as it held its obsidian sword with a grip that promised violence, ready to retaliate. The one with the spear took a stance, his darker scales reflecting the light forming on the tip of his weapon. The obsidian tip swirled in a mix of orange and red, gathering energy like a tiny star being born in the heart of the weapon.

With a powerful thrust that sent ripples through the air, it pierced forward, shooting a beam of energy and flame that collided with the barrier of his defensive drone. The hexagonal wall shimmered under the impact. Each segment flickered with blue light that fought against the invading fire, but it did not break. The air warped violently where the beam struck the barrier, creating a mirage effect that distorted the shapes of the Salamanders behind it.

The larger, darker Salamander tilted its head, looking left and right toward its companions. Guttural sounds rumbled from its throat, after which the others took a new stance. The shield-bearers split up, taking steps to the side, their movements synchronized with the precision of a military unit, until they reached the rim of the walkway where the magma pools bubbled. The others followed, seeking shelter behind their barrier. They never stepped out into the open, their obsidian weapons glinting with malicious intent as they waited for an opening.

They began a flanking maneuver, creeping forward under constant drone fire, their shields deflecting most of the energy beams with minimal damage. Suddenly, one of them halted its movement and lifted its head. A bone-chilling roar followed, causing Searanox pain in his head and forcing his gaze toward the beast; an overwhelming urge stirred within him to destroy it—to tear it to pieces. The roar bypassed his ears and struck directly at his mind, reverberating through his skull like a tuning fork struck against bone.

`Ignore the healer. Ignore the commander. Ignore everything. Kill the shield-bearer.`

Searanox acted on pure instinct; he had no real control over his thoughts or actions. His rifle came up with a speed that defied his conscious mind, the weapon feeling like an extension of his arm. He fired a second later. A thick beam of violet light tore through the air, leaving a trail of ionized particles in its wake. Around him, other drones materialized in flashes of blue, their arrival violent as they responded to his unspoken command.

The primal roar of the shield-bearer still echoed in Searanox's skull. The urge to destroy was no longer a thought but a physical imperative, his muscles tensing with a hunger that demanded release. Every circuit in his mind rerouted to a single objective: kill that shield-bearer under any circumstance.

His drones responded, a chorus of violet and crimson light that painted the cavern in violent flashes. The newly materialized defensive drone formed a secondary barrier, its hexagonal patterns pulsing with blue energy as it absorbed the retaliatory attacks. His intermediate assault drones unleashed a torrent of crimson. Their beams converged on the Salamander's shield with such intensity that the obsidian surface began to glow, the heat visible even through the shimmering air.

The offensive drones flanked from above, their angle allowing them to bypass the shield wall slightly, their beams searing into the creature's shoulder joints and neck. The Salamander's scales blackened and peeled away. The creature roared in pain as it stumbled back, its shield arm trembling from the sustained assault.

But it did not fall, its stubborn refusal to die fueling Searanox's fury. His rifle joined the barrage. He overcharged his shot; the beam, thicker and hotter than the others, struck the shield's center with enough force to crack it. The sound echoed through the cavern—a sharp, piercing noise like shattering glass—followed by the Salamander's agonized shriek as the shield's fragments tore into its own flesh.

The other Salamanders retaliated. Their spear and swords struck the drone barriers, the impacts creating a discordant symphony of metal on energy, but Searanox barely registered it. His focus remained absolute. His drones responded to every twitch of his will, their fire relentless, their purpose singular.

The shield-bearer fell to one knee, its body a ruin of burns and deep wounds. Still, it held on, its defiant gaze locked with Searanox's, its ember eyes burning with a hatred that mirrored his own destructive rage.