The village square shook beneath the thunder of countless feet.
Two hundred and thirty-four goblins surged as one, a tide of snarling teeth and jagged steel. Males brandished crude blades, females clutched spears of sharpened bone. At their center strode a giant—his cubic physique nearly rivaling the Chief's guards, muscles stacked like carved stone. Behind him marched four more, towering larger than any common goblin yet still smaller than the elites, their growls low and savage.
And surrounding them all, like a general among soldiers, the Goblin Chief raised his broken sword hilt. Fire coiled in his palm once more, the crimson glow washing over his golden jewelry.
The horde advanced together, a wall of death closing in on a lone human. Like predators cornering prey.
But they were wrong.
The predator was not them.
The two elite guards struck first, their massive frames blurring into motion. One swung high, the other low, fists seeking to crush Airen's arms before he could raise his blade.
Airen didn't dodge. He didn't deflect.
He attacked.
In a blur of steel, his sword carved upward. The edge cut clean through cubic flesh, severing one elite's neck in a single stroke. The goblin's head spun through the air, eyes wide with shock, before thudding against the dirt.
Airen didn't pause. Before the body had even collapsed, he seized the second elite by the skull. His fingers locked like iron around the creature's blocky head.
Crack!
He yanked the goblin forward and drove his knee upward with brutal precision.
BOOM!
Bone shattered like brittle stone. The elite's nose caved in, face folding inward, a grotesque dent in the shape of Airen's knee. The body went limp instantly, blood spilling in jagged streams as the ruined face crumpled against his leg.
Silence fell.
Hundreds of goblins froze mid-step. The ground that had thundered with their charge went still. The snarls in their throats died into stunned silence.
Two of the Chief's strongest, cut down in the span of a heartbeat.
Airen stood tall in the middle of the square, sword dripping dark blood, his expression calm—as though ending monsters twice his size was nothing more than routine.
The predator had revealed himself.
The goblin chief saw the sudden halt among his soldiers. For a moment, silence pressed down, thick and heavy. But before fear could fester, before their morale could break, the chief raised his voice with a booming roar.
"Don't falter! We still have the numbers! Kill him, and those who prove themselves will be rewarded—gold, treasures, and the honor of becoming my new elite guard!"
A savage cry swept through the horde. The goblins, greed flashing in their yellow eyes, found their courage again. Fueled by ambition, they surged forward with renewed bloodlust.
But just as the tide advanced—six goblins suddenly collapsed, arrows piercing clean through their skulls. One volley. Six kills.
It was Lirra, loosing arrows so quickly that it looked like the bow was an extension of her arms.
Airen didn't look relieved. Instead, his eyes narrowed in annoyance. She's stealing my EXP.
Only he noticed her hidden in the shadows, keeping her distance and thinning the crowd with unnerving precision.
Airen called to the system in his mind.
Why isn't the goblin chief throwing another fireball?
[He's conserving mana. He'll only cast when he sees the perfect chance.]
"Oh, so that's what it is," Airen muttered under his breath.
At the front now stood a towering goblin whose physique nearly rivaled the elites. His face twisted with hunger—clearly, he craved the promised elite guard position. Behind him, four more goblins, larger than the average but still below the elites, pushed forward with the rest of the mob trailing behind.
Airen lifted a hand and released a fireball.
But the goblin chief instantly countered with one of his own. The two spheres of flame collided mid-air, bursting in a violent explosion that lit the night sky. Neither gained the upper hand—both attacks canceled each other in raw force.
The chief's eyes narrowed. Iknew it… he really does know magic.
The muscular goblin roared and lunged, his fist smashing toward Airen. But when the blow landed—Airen didn't budge. Not even an inch.
The goblin froze, eyes wide. Slowly, he lifted his gaze, only to meet Airen's calm, merciless stare.
With his left hand, Airen summoned a pickaxe from his inventory and brought it crashing down into the goblin's skull. Bone cracked, blood splattered. The body hit the ground like a broken doll.
Airen exhaled softly, a faint grin curling his lips.
"I feel stronger than before."
[That's because you leveled up after killing the two elite guards.]
The four bulkier goblins charged him together, weapons raised.
Airen welcomed them head-on.
His sword flashed, his fists smashed, his kicks cracked ribs like dry twigs. He slammed one with such force that its body became a cannonball, flying back into the horde. It crashed into dozens, crushing some to death under the sheer impact.
The last of the four raised its weapon, but Airen caught it by the jaw, pulling his fist back for a brutal strike—
Shhhhk!
An icy spear ripped through the goblin's stomach and continued, stabbing deep into Airen's abdomen. His eyes widened in surprise.
"The hell…? Where did this come from?"
A mocking laugh echoed. The goblin chief.
"Ha! My plan worked. I aimed the spell at my soldier so it would pierce through him and strike you as well!"
Airen grimaced, gripping the frozen spear. "Tch… so it's not just fireballs. Unexpected. I thought you were a one-trick magician."
[He isn't a rune user like you. He's a Tier 2 magician—meaning he can use any Tier 1 and Tier 2 spells.]
The goblin chief threw his head back, laughing as if victory was already in his grasp.
But Airen's voice cut through his laughter, sharp and cold.
"The plan was clever… but the wound's not that deep."
With a grunt, he yanked the spear out of his own stomach, spun, and hurled it back at the chief.
The chief quickly countered with another spear of ice, the two colliding mid-air in a burst of frozen shards.
From behind, a female goblin rushed Airen with a spear. But before it could reach him, an arrow punched through her skull.
Only then did the horde finally realize Lirra's presence. Too late. Dozens of corpses already littered the ground behind them, each one with an arrow lodged perfectly in the center of their foreheads.
Lirra had silently reaped thirty-three lives.
Airen calmly bent down, picked up the fallen goblin's spear, and with one casual throw, sent it spinning like a drill into the mob. It tore through goblin after goblin, piercing them in a straight line—ten bodies impaled in a single strike.
Silence.
The goblin chief's grin faltered, his jaw tightening.
Around him, the remaining goblins trembled. Fear crept into their faces as they stared at Airen—the predator drenched in blood, black hair fluttering in the chaotic wind, eyes sharp enough to pierce through their souls.