After two days of rest, Lumberling departed alone, carrying rations and his weapons. He followed the path Chief Eldric had marked for him through the dense forest. For the first couple of days, nothing unusual occurred. He encountered a few animals, but not a single monster.
On the third day, that changed.
For the first time, he saw a creature straight out of the fantasy novels he'd once read—a goblin. Child-sized, with mottled dark green skin and a grotesque face, it looked exactly like he remembered. The goblin was carrying a dead rabbit on its back, presumably taking it home to its den.
Lumberling studied it closely.
"How the hell did people in my old world describe these things so accurately?"
"Maybe the author who made up goblins actually saw one? Nah. Doesn't matter. At least my nerdy reading paid off."
He silently followed the creature through the woods. It eventually arrived at a lake and started eating. Lumberling activated his concealment skill to its limit, curious to test how effective it was against monsters. On humans and villagers, it had worked well—he could get close if he tried hard enough.
Step by step, he approached.
At seven meters, the goblin's ears twitched. It paused its meal and shrieked, alert and alarmed.
It sensed him.
Lumberling appeared without hesitation. The goblin drew a small dagger and lunged at him. He parried and kicked it away. It scrambled up and attacked again, but he dodged effortlessly.
"Average strength and speed—worse than a trained soldier. But sharp instincts."
He kicked it once more and disappeared from its sight. Confused, the goblin picked up its rabbit and began moving toward its den. As it reached a small cave, its vision suddenly turned upside down. The last thing it saw was the human's face.
(You have devoured the Goblin's essence. 3 essence absorbed. Absorbing a portion of the Goblin's memories and experiences.)
(Ghwee, wee##**, wee## - Goblin)*
"What a gibberish language. No clue what that meant. Didn't sound like anything with structure. Definitely not worth decoding — yet"
"So I can absorb monster essence without filtering? Maybe that one was too weak. I'll need stronger test subjects."
Lumberling examined the cave—narrow, just wide enough for him to crawl through. Rather than enter, he gathered wood and leaves, piling them at the entrance. He lit the fire and covered the opening with leafy branches. Thick smoke billowed into the cave.
He hid nearby, bow at the ready.
Moments later, goblins burst through the leafy barrier, coughing and tossing dirt to douse the fire. That's when arrows started flying.
By the time the smoke cleared, 8 goblins were already down. Twenty remained.
One, as tall as an average human, roared and charged. The others followed suit.
Lumberling remained calm. He switched to his spear, activated his Sprint, and rushed into their ranks.
He charged through them—dodging, striking, weaving his spear in deadly arcs. The evolved goblin roared again, attacking with rage, but its strength was barely equal to an elite soldier. Lumberling left it alive after dispatching the rest.
"Confirmed. I get essence without filtering from weak monsters. But what about evolved ones?"
He returned to the cave to ensure it was empty, then approached the fallen hobgoblin. Its limbs had been severed. Lumberling sat cross-legged beside it and waited for it to die.
When it did, he released a purple string from his body and connected it to the corpse, absorbing the essence but stopping it before it entered him. He tried to study it but understood nothing.
Eventually, he let a portion in.
(You have devoured the Hobgoblin's essence. 2 essence absorbed. Absorbing a portion of the Hobgoblin's memories and experiences.)
Pain shot through him. But it was milder than before. He gritted his teeth, enduring it, while focusing on the strange energy swirling inside him.
As the essence spread through his limbs, another energy rose from within—familiar and pure.
Knight's energy.
It clashed with the ferocious energy in the goblin essence. Slowly, his body expelled the foreign energy through his mouth.
He doubled over, coughing—but smiled.
"So that's it. I can purify monster essence with Knight's energy. Thanks, homie."
The only problem: he still couldn't control that energy at will.
"Still, better than nothing. I just need to figure out how to channel it."
"Forget orcs. Goblins are safer for now. Target switch."
Over the next several days, Lumberling began methodical hunts on goblin dens. He scouted the area, repeated his smokescreen tactics, and slaughtered goblins one by one.
Over two months, he destroyed eight goblin lairs, refining his techniques through trial and error. Eventually, he learned to channel his Knight energy directly into an essence before absorbing it. The conflicting energies would clash—and the stronger one would expel the other.
After that, he could absorb essence cleanly.
But there was a problem.
His body had limits.
Name: Lumberling
Race: Human
Age: 18
Level: 4
Essence Points: (1636 / 3500)
Power: 778
Knight Stage: Unranked
Active Skills:
Beginner Sprint Lv0 (828 / 1000)
(Grants a burst of lightning-fast speed. Consumes a large amount of stamina.)
Passive Skills:
Essence Devour
(Automatically devours the essence of those you kill. Absorbs a portion of their special experiences and memories.)
Beginner Spearmanship Lv2 (497 / 1000)
Beginner Swordsmanship Lv2 (0 / 1000)
Beginner Bowmanship Lv0 (266 / 1000)
Beginner Shieldmanship Lv0 (259 / 1000)
Beginner Cudgel Fighting Lv0 (16 / 1000)
Beginner Concealment Lv0 (699 / 1000)
He felt it clearly now. As he neared Level 5, he was reaching his limit. It felt like a jar being filled with water—it could only hold so much essence.
"I've hit a skill wall, and now a level wall too? Just great."
Then something caught his eye.
"Wait... Unranked Knight? But Eldric said I was already a Knight Page."
He paused.
"No… my skills don't match a Knight Page yet. But if I can reach the next Knight stage, maybe my capacity will grow."
A spark of determination ignited in him.
"That's the goal. Become a true Knight Page."
These months of hunting hadn't been easy. He had been caught in traps, ambushed, wounded. Goblins used tight quarters and numbers to their advantage.
But Lumberling adapted.
'The way they clustered near the trail — too exposed. A trap, just like the last lair.' He waited, eyes scanning for hidden dart tubes among the leaves…
He learned their tricks—pitfalls, collapsing rock traps, fake retreats into ambushes. Disgusting tactics like throwing dung, beehives, even sharp bones. Some dug tunnels beneath enemy positions. Others rode wild boars into battle.
He knew their ways intimately—so well, he felt like a goblin himself.
One afternoon, he observed a group of nine goblins carrying their prey. He didn't attack. He waited, following them back to their lair.
On another area, an eagle landed on the shoulder of a humanoid goblin—taller, more refined. The goblin glanced toward Lumberling's hiding place and barked an order.
That confirmed it: the eagle had scouted him.
Before the rest reached the lair, Lumberling struck. He ambushed the group, cutting down half in moments. As expected, the remaining goblins retaliated—without hesitation, they even shot poisoned darts that killed one of their own.
But he was too fast. Too strong.
He finished them all—except for one. That goblin, bloodied and mocking, pulled out a small metal orb.
Lumberling's instincts kicked in. He used Sprint, beheaded it, and caught the orb midair—then flung it upward.
BOOM!
The explosion would have killed him had it detonated nearby.
"Where the hell did they get that?"
But there was no time to think. More darts flew. Hidden goblins—twenty or more—fired from the bushes.
Then, twenty more appeared with spears—long enough to keep him at bay.
A tall, grey-skinned goblin emerged, the eagle perched on his shoulder. Its aura was different. The leader of the lair—more powerful than any hobgoblin he had faced. Commanding over fifty subordinates. Cunning. Calculating.
"This is no ordinary hobgoblin," he thought. "This one's Knight-level."
Still, Lumberling smiled. He tightened his grip on his spear and vanished—reappearing among the shooters, cutting them down.
Before the rest could react, half were dead.
The grey goblin ordered a regroup, but it was too late. Lumberling, though caught off guard, hadn't gone all out from the beginning. Perhaps arrogance had made him reckless.
"A surprise, indeed. I let my guard down. This world… there is no 'safe'."
Switching to his bow, he rained arrows upon the shieldless goblins. They fell easily. Then, the goblin leader made a desperate move—sending five goblins to flee in different directions while the rest charged in a suicidal wave.
Lumberling targeted one goblin that charged at him—the one carrying something the leader had given it before running.
His arrow struck true.
BOOM!
The orb it carried exploded, killing nearby goblins.
He fired at the eagle but missed; it soared away.
"I should get an eagle, too," he muttered, eyes following it.
Then he looked toward the direction the grey goblin had fled.
He paused—then chased.
Sprint activated.
As expected, traps triggered—pits, snares, darts.
These were all familiar with him.
But the final trap… was something else entirely.