Just as he was about to flash over to slash them twice, a grave realization struck him.

"Hiss... Why’s a long-range psionic like me stuck in melee combat?"

He rubbed his temples. Past battles had ingrained this habit—back then, as an archer-type, he’d often been rushed by enemies. To survive, he’d mastered close-quarters skills, filling his skill tree with them.

But that was necessity. Now? He could decapitate foes from impossible distances. Why close in at all?

Clarity dawned. Zhang Luan sheathed his daggers, rubbing his fingers together to form two distinct orbs.

One pulsed with Stellar Flame. The other shimmered with the Force of Creation.

As he merged them, he frowned. His mastery of the Force of Creation was pitiful—barely beyond Flash Step and Spatial Ripples.

Not his fault. Advanced techniques like Temporal Quake would shatter his body. Mastering the basics was already impressive.

Space and flame intertwined. He stretched the fused energy into a slender thread, sensed the bandits’ positions, and slipped it through a rift.

Silent. Sudden.

The two bandits felt only a wave of heat before bursting into flames under their comrades’ horrified stares.

No screams. Only ash drifting to the ground. The fire vanished as quickly as it came. Had the ashes not remained, the others might’ve dismissed it as a trick of the light.

It wasn’t.

Terrified, the bandits fled toward camp, desperate to avoid whatever invisible death had claimed their friends.

Zhang Luan smirked. With a flash step, he appeared behind a boulder overlooking the cavern—a perfect vantage point, hidden. *Just where players had spied from in his past life.*

Panic choked the camp. Eyes darted wildly. Those who heard of the spontaneous combustion scrambled for water barrels or damp corners.

News reached the obsidian mountain fortress at the camp’s heart. Zhang Luan watched its gates. Several bandits rushed inside, returning moments later with a dozen extravagantly dressed men and women.

Elite raiders. Captains sent by the Southern Sect City’s lord. Formidable.

*Twelve here. Fourteen total, counting the two I burned.*

Fifteen should’ve existed. The missing one—the raid overseer—surely waited inside the fortress.

Zhang Luan hesitated. He’d rather wait until all elites left before infiltrating. But no. Killing grunts meant nothing if the overseer remained.

This chance wouldn’t last. The fortress held the key. Fail here, and this entire raid was wasted.

Coordinates locked. He leaped down, flashing the instant before impact—reappearing inside the fortress.

Empty halls. He rolled two balls of Stellar Flame in his palms, ready to incinerate any guard. Overkill. Security was laughable. The most vital area had barely any watchers—and those present were huddled together, playing cards.

Only a broom-wielding cleaner nearly spotted him. Zhang Luan vanished using his Hermit skill.

He found the basement stairs swiftly. Here, guards actually stood watch—though they were chatting and drinking instead of gambling. *Responsible enough.*

Zhang Luan rewarded their diligence by strolling past, invisible.

Chill air seeped up the stairs. Darkness clung to the walls. A faint, strange odor hung in the air. And beneath it—a muttering voice, too distant to decipher.

He descended slowly, Stellar Flame coalescing into a small sword in his grip.

On the final step, an ear-splitting screech tore through the silence. Zhang Luan winced, eyes snapping toward the source.

An old man stood before a black stone bust. Beside him, magical speakers blared deafening noise.

The man sat in a swivel chair. As it turned slowly, his face came into view.

*Predictable.* The missing elite raider—and a notorious one. Zhang Luan’s lips curled. He flicked a tiny ember of Stellar Flame toward the bust.

The old man coughed weakly, sighing as he reached for his cane to stand.

Then—crimson light erupted from the bust’s eyes.

Frowning, the elder hurried over. After a pause, he twisted the bust’s head. A hidden door slid open, revealing a chamber beyond.

"The Energy Core malfunctioning again? Impossible..."

He stepped inside, unaware the Core was fine. The bust was fine.

Zhang Luan had tricked them both.

He knew this basement hid a secret chamber—the camp’s entire power source. The bust was its lock, triggered by heat anomalies.

A tiny lick of Stellar Flame on its base had done the trick.

The overseer *had* to investigate.

*Exactly as planned.*

Zhang Luan’s invisibility flickered, seconds from fading. He lunged, grabbing the old man’s head and plunging them both into the chamber.