They coordinated, at times forming three-layered lines, attacking in unison.
Some even began throwing their pickaxes from range, turning them into spinning molten projectiles.
The aim wasn't entirely accurate, but with thousands of them doing the same some attacks landed.
One such molten pickaxe hit Martin's side, the lava splattering on his arm.
He didn't even flinch.
His body, at this point, was strong enough to shrug off ordinary lava like water.
The metal sizzled and hardened against his skin before he casually peeled it off and continued killing.
"Still..."
"I should be focusing on not getting hit."
"It is true my defence is enough to stop their attacks, but that is not a great habit..."
Ten minutes passed.
Only three hundred of the Rock Demon Miners remained.
Now, some of them hesitated.
The instincts in their semi-sentient minds told them that this being before them was not one they could defeat.
But there was no escape.
