The volcanic landscape stretched before Lance like a wound in the world's flesh. Rivers of lava cut through black stone, while geysers of superheated steam created ever-shifting veils across the burning terrain. As he emerged from his newly transformed dungeon, movement caught his attention.

  Purple-cloaked figures darted between obsidian formations, their forms nearly lost against the heat-shimmered air. His maniacal grin spread wider - more of the Dark Masters' servants, so far from their fortress. Their movements spoke of extensive training, but also of uncertainty in this hostile environment.

  "Interesting timing," he mused, activating his stealth skill. His shadow-infused salamander followed silently, its transformed scales adapting to match the volcanic terrain. "Let's see what has them so far from home."

  The figures moved in a practiced formation - five in total, each bearing divine sigils that pulsed with borrowed power. They carried weapons that seemed to bend light around their edges, marking them as higher-ranking servants than the force he'd encountered in Millbrook.

  Lance tracked them through burning valleys and across fields of cooling magma, noting how they checked specific locations. They weren't just traveling through - they were searching for something. Or someone.

  The group approached a valley where wild fire hounds had made their territory. The beasts were magnificent - each the size of a horse, their fur literally made of living flame. Ancient power rolled off them in waves, suggesting they weren't simple monsters but creatures that remembered older times.

  The fire hounds sensed the intruders immediately. Their heads rose in perfect unison, manes of pure flame rippling with deadly intent. These weren't mere beasts - their movements carried the coordination of pack hunters that had survived in this volcanic hell for centuries.

  Lance watched with growing amusement as the hooded figures attempted to engage. Their god-touched weapons flashed with divine light, trying to establish dominance over the primal flames. But the hounds responded with power that felt older, less restricted.

  The fire hounds were magnificent specimens of natural power. Each stood as tall as a warhorse, with bulging muscles visible beneath fur made of living flame. Their most striking feature was the exposed skeletal structure that covered their bodies like natural armor - bones that glowed with internal fire, arranged in spiral patterns across their massive forms.

  [System Analysis]

  Beast Type: Fire Hound

  Rank: B

  Special Traits:

  - Pack Hunters (Groups of 10)

  - Enhanced Coordination

  - Natural Flame Armor

  Note: Pack hunting behavior elevates threat level to effective A-Rank

  Lance watched with growing interest as the pack moved with perfect synchronization. Ten of them, their combined power approaching that of a true A-rank threat. The way their skeletal armor pulsed with internal flame spoke of natural evolution unrestricted by divine law - exactly the kind of power the Dark Masters seemed desperate to control.

  "Poor form," Lance mused as one figure's weapon shattered against a hound's flame-wreathed hide. "Divine authority means little to creatures that remember freedom."

  Two of the figures fell quickly, their borrowed power proving inadequate against natural force. The remaining three retreated in careful coordination, but Lance could see the fear in their movements. They hadn't expected such resistance.

  "Time to introduce ourselves," Lance's laugh carried that edge of deadly amusement as he approached the survivors. His salamander familiar moved like a shadow through the volcanic steam, its transformed scales rippling with anticipation.

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  "Who-" one of the hooded figures started, but Lance's fist interrupted the question. The figure crashed into volcanic stone, hood falling back to reveal a face marked with divine sigils. The markings pulsed with desperate energy, trying to protect their bearer.

  "I asked first," Lance's grin promised beautiful devastation. "Though I suspect I already know. 'Can't let the Dungeon King expand his powers,' isn't that right?"

  The second figure tried to channel divine energy, crystallizing light into a defensive barrier. Lance's casual backhand shattered both barrier and bearer, sending them sprawling across heated stone. His salamander familiar circled the fallen figures, shadow-infused scales rippling with deadly purpose.

  "The Third Master was clear," one gasped, blood trickling from divine markings that seemed to be failing. "We can't wait. The Dungeon King grows too powerful too quickly." Fear made their voice crack. "Each dungeon he claims, each beast he binds - they all change, become something that shouldn't be possible."

  "Tell me more about these... impossible changes," Lance's laugh echoed across volcanic stone, making shadows dance.

  "The dungeons he takes," another tried to rise, divine sigils flickering weakly. "They stop following proper rules. Monsters evolve in ways the system can't categorize. And the beasts he binds..." The figure shuddered. "They remember things. Things the Primordial Gods sealed away."

  "You don't understand," the third one pleaded, finally registering the true danger of their situation. "If he reaches Kytus, if he claims more ancient beasts... the system itself might-"

  "Might show its cracks?" Lance's elemental markings pulsed with dark amusement. "Might remind others that divine law isn't as absolute as your masters pretend?"

  "The Dark Masters know what he's becoming," blood dripped from failing divine markings. "Each evolution breaks another seal, bypasses another restriction. He's not just growing stronger - he's changing how power itself works."

  "This territory," Lance gestured to the volcanic landscape around them, "belongs to Kytus. An ancient beast that remembers what true power felt like." His maniacal grin widened. "Tell me what the Dark Masters fear more - that I'll bind him, or that he'll recognize something in my power?"

  The figures' divine markings pulsed erratically as understanding slowly dawned. One tried to scramble backward, volcanic rock cutting into their palms.

  "Those markings," the first figure whispered, terror replacing confusion. "The way shadows move around you... You're-"

  "The one you were sent to stop?" Lance's laugh carried that edge of beautiful devastation. "The Dungeon King you're so afraid will reach Kytus?" His elemental markings blazed with power. "I should thank you, really. Your little mission has confirmed so much."

  "Please," one begged, divine protections crackling uselessly. "The Third Master only told us to delay you. To buy time before-"

  "Before what?" Lance's grin promised exquisite violence. "Before I remind more ancient beings what freedom tastes like? Before I show them how fragile divine law truly is?"

  His shadow-infused salamander moved with lethal grace, its transformed power making the volcanic air itself shudder. Where once it commanded pure flame, now shadows writhed within its fire, carrying traces of power that predated divine law.

  "Wait," the last figure tried to rise. "We can tell you more! About the Dark Masters' plans, about-"

  Lance's laugh cut through their pleas. "You've already told me everything I need to know. But let me show you something in return." He turned to his salamander. "Show them what shadow-touched flame can do."

  The salamander struck with terrible precision. Its maw opened impossibly wide, revealing teeth that seemed to drink both light and heat. The flame it released wasn't the pure red-gold of natural fire, but something darker, shot through with void-like ripples. Shadow-infused poison rode the flames, bypassing divine protections as if they didn't exist.

  The first figure's scream cut off as the enhanced toxin flooded their system, boiling them from within. Their god-touched markings flared uselessly, unable to counter power that ignored divine restrictions entirely. The others could only watch as their companion's form literally melted from the inside out.

  "Fascinating," Lance observed as the second figure met the same fate. "Their protections don't recognize the threat. Almost like their precious divine law can't comprehend what your power has become."

  His salamander coiled with satisfaction, shadow-touched flames still dancing between its teeth. The remaining figure prostrated themselves, divine markings flickering like dying stars.

  "The Third Master... she'll know you're coming now," they gasped. "She'll feel our deaths."

  "Good," Lance's elemental markings pulsed with anticipation. "Let her feel exactly how you died. Let her understand what her precious divine protections mean against power that remembers true freedom."

  The salamander's final strike was almost gentle, its shadow-infused flame entering the figure's mouth like a lover's kiss. But the effects were anything but gentle - organs liquefied, divine markings shattered, and reality itself seemed to recoil from what Lance's power had become.

  "The Third Master sent you to stop the Dungeon King," Lance's maniacal grin widened as the last figure's form collapsed into burning slag. "How unfortunate that you found him instead."

  He turned toward the volcanic peaks where Kytus waited, his shadow-infused salamander following like a deadly shadow. The Dark Masters' agents had revealed more than they intended - not just about their fears, but about how fundamentally his power was changing the very nature of this world.

  Let them feel these deaths. Let them understand that every attempt to stop him only proved how fragile their system truly was. After all, if divine law could be bypassed so easily...

  What else might break when he finally reached Kytus?

  His laugh echoed across the volcanic wasteland, carrying that edge of beautiful devastation that promised so much more to come.