The adventurers reached the hilltop. They had already moved their tents to this safer spot so they could launch the attack at first light. A cold wind swept gently across the summit, chilling the night air.
Bren lingered behind, staring into the fire. He tossed another log onto the flames, keeping them steady while his eyes constantly scanned the darkness. Fatigue lined his face, but it was overshadowed by the grim seriousness of a man whose strategy was already set in stone.
Mira was busy erecting the barrier. She moved her hands in slow, graceful arcs, drawing glowing blue sigils into the ground. From each mark, faint azure sparks scattered, and a translucent dome—roughly twenty metres in radius—began to take shape around them.
The others had already fallen asleep, exhausted from the long march and the night's work.
Bren sensed someone still standing by the fire. He turned slowly.
It was the porters. They sat huddled close to the flames, warming themselves. Bren took a few steps closer.
"Luna, aren't you sleeping?" he asked quietly, his voice carrying a rare softness.
Luna—the young elf girl with long blonde hair that fell past her shoulders and dull brown eyes—looked up at him. Though small in stature, she possessed the strength to carry the entire party's burdens without complaint. Yet there was no pride in her; only emptiness.
Her voice was flat, lifeless.
"Slaves don't sleep. They keep watch at night…"
Bren exhaled heavily, a deep, weary sigh.
"You're allowed. Go sleep," he said, sincere yet still commanding.
"Tomorrow we fight. The weapons need cleaning too. And if you slow down, the whole party slows down."
Luna stared at his face for a moment longer. Her eyes remained hollow, devoid of any spark.
"If that is your order… I will sleep," she answered without emotion, then slowly rose and walked away.
As she passed, Bren watched her retreating back. A shadow of sorrow and regret crossed his features.
Does this girl even have any hope left in life?
Ever since we bought her, she's been like this.
She neither rejoices nor grieves.
She's nothing more than a puppet…
The fire crackled beside him, its warm light illuminating the troubled thoughts etched across his face.
Meanwhile—Noa's side
Noa had fallen asleep leaning against a tree. The quiet night enveloped him; moonlight filtered through the leaves, bathing him in soft silver. His breathing was calm, peaceful—he was utterly drained from shattering the black mana.
The goblins were also asleep; a few snored softly, while only two kept watch, their eyes half-closed with exhaustion.
Kargal, however, took full advantage of the silence. He was busy gnawing on Sara's bones, his jaws working with quiet, rhythmic crunching.
The forest whispered in the night, and the faint scent of smoke still drifted from the direction of the goblin village.
This quiet night was anything but ordinary.
It was the calm before the storm.
Morning sunlight slowly spread across the forest, glistening on the dew-covered leaves and filling the air with the promise of a new day.
The warm rays falling on Noa's face gently woke him.
He lifted his head from where it rested against the tree, stretched both arms wide, and stood up slowly. A faint, knowing smile touched his lips.
"It seems dawn has come… Time to return to the village," he murmured.
The goblins were still snoring away.
Noa extended his mana sense to its maximum, feeling every breath, every heartbeat, every flicker of consciousness around him.
He walked quietly among them.
One goblin had even fallen asleep sitting upright.
Noa nudged him lightly with his foot.
"Up. We're going back to the village. Now."
The goblin jolted half-awake, stumbling to his feet. The others stirred groggily, rubbing their eyes and looking at each other in confusion.
At the same moment, the adventurer party was also beginning to wake.
Bren, as always, had risen first. He stepped out of his tent and drew a deep breath. His gaze fell on Luna—she had woken even earlier than usual, standing silently, more withdrawn than ever.
Back at the village, Rion had not slept at all.
He stepped out of his hut and surveyed the devastation. Smoke still rose from the ruins, charred huts stood as grim reminders of the previous night's attack, and the goblins who had survived were still reeling from the shock.
Rion spoke, his voice low but carrying the weight of command.
"Today will be the continuation of last night's assault. Everyone stay alert."
His tone was calm, yet the gravity beneath it was unmistakable.
Inside Rion burned a mixture of worry and responsibility.
Inside the goblins—fear.
Inside Bren's party—readiness for the trial ahead.
Today, no one knew whose fate would change.
But one thing was certain—this was no ordinary morning.
Noa set off toward the village with his eight goblins trailing behind him, still half-asleep yet following obediently.
At the same time, Bren's party was checking their weapons.
In the gentle morning light filtering between the tents, they performed their tasks with grave seriousness. Blades gleamed, bows were strung and tested, armour was inspected once more.
Bren sat a short distance away on the stump of a fallen tree. He began drawing a rough but precise map of the village in the dirt with a stick, glancing at his team from time to time before returning to his sketch—a commander whose plans were already fully formed in his mind, now giving them shape.
Finally, he finished the map.
His face was stern, his voice filled with absolute conviction.
"We begin the assault in a few hours."
He turned first to Tarl.
"Tarl, you fight at my side. Until I kill the goblin chieftain, you keep anyone from reaching Lira and Mira. Their protection is in your hands."
Tarl struck his chest with a fist, his shoulders seeming to broaden.
"I'll crush anything that comes near them, Bren. No one will get through."
Bren nodded and looked at Kovo.
"Kovo, take the trees. Support me with your arrows. If Tarl needs help later, assist him too—but don't rush. You can't save both of us at once. Act according to the situation."
Kovo gave a light grin and checked his bowstring.
"I know. Not a single arrow will miss."
Next was Mira.
"Mira, adapt to the situation. The goblin leader doesn't look ordinary. If he proves too strong and I can't take him down even with Kovo's help, you join me.
If not, use your fire explosions to sow chaos. The bigger the blast, the better. Their formation will collapse."
Mira pulled her hat lower, a playful yet dangerous smile on her lips.
"Leave it to me, captain. When the time comes, I'll burn everything."
Finally, Bren looked at Lira.
There was no need to explain anything to her.
"You know what to do."
Lira smiled broadly, intelligence and mischief sparkling in her eyes.
"Of course. No reminders needed."
Bren rose to his feet. The party fell silent and looked at him.
"Eat. Then we march. Right now they're searching for us, but they won't find us on this hill. The terrain is on our side."
His expression darkened for a moment. His voice dropped, heavy with gravity.
"If… if we fail…"
He paused, unable to continue for a second, then drew a deep breath.
"No matter what happens, fall back here. With me or without me. We have one heavy injury elixir, three mana restoratives, two strength restoratives. With those, we can retreat safely."
Tarl stood, placing a heavy hand on Bren's shoulder.
"Don't worry. We'll complete the mission and go home. You lead us—we won't fall."
Bren looked at each member of his team in turn.
There was no fear in their eyes. Only trust.
The calm of seasoned warriors.
This party was truly his strength.
Today they would either triumph—or be utterly destroyed.
Who do you think will win? Leave your opinion. Did Noa break up with her friend or not? Don't forget to give her a power stone. 100 power stones. Bonus chapter. Watch the life of a 5-year-old antihero with me.