Don stood in the center of the ruined camp, his consciousness still reeling from the memory transfer.
King Aldric's face. Queen Elara's scream. Princess Lyanna's broken body.
200 years ago.
And the monsters responsible were still alive. Still ruling. Still feeding.
Don's Emotion Suppression kept the rage buried, compressed into something cold and tactical. But it was there. Building. Waiting.
His mismatched eyes—both showing spreading gold cracks now—glowed faintly in the crimson twilight.
[KILL POINTS: 18,520 KP]
The System Store was open before him, and Don had decisions to make.
He selected the SPECIAL category and focused on the System Features.
╔═══════════════════════════════╗
SYSTEM FEATURES
╚═══════════════════════════════╝
AVAILABLE UPGRADES:
► Mini-Map: 5,000 KP
- 500-meter radius display
- Shows terrain and enemies
- Real-time updates
- Always visible (edge of vision)
► Enemy Tracker: 7,000 KP
- Auto-detects hostiles (100m range)
- Displays threat levels
- Shows basic stats
- Movement pattern analysis
► Auto-Translate: 3,000 KP
- Translates all languages
- Spoken and written
- Real-time conversion
- Works on signs/markers
Don didn't hesitate.
[PURCHASE: MINI-MAP] [COST: 5,000 KP]
[PURCHASE: ENEMY TRACKER] [COST: 7,000 KP]
[PURCHASE: AUTO-TRANSLATE] [COST: 3,000 KP]
[TOTAL COST: 15,000 KP] [REMAINING: 3,520 KP]
[SYSTEM FEATURES: ACTIVATING...]
The world shifted slightly.
A translucent map materialized at the edge of Don's vision—not intrusive, but present. A circle showing 500 meters in all directions, with him at the center. The ruined camp appeared as gray shapes. The forest beyond as green. And scattered throughout—
Red dots.
Enemies.
[MINI-MAP: ACTIVE]
[ENEMY TRACKER: ACTIVE]
[AUTO-TRANSLATE: ACTIVE]
Don focused on the nearest red dot—approximately 80 meters north. The Enemy Tracker activated automatically.
[ENEMY DETECTED]
[ANALYZING...]
[GOBLIN SCOUT PATROL ×6]
[5× Non-cultivators]
[1× Curse Shaman - Stage 1, Level 2] [THREAT ASSESSMENT: LOW]
[WARNING: Shaman capable of debuff curses]
A curse shaman. Potentially useful if Don could consume it.
Don stored the three E-Rank mana potions and three C-Rank mana potions in his Spatial Storage Ring, along with the maps and journal. Everything else—weapons, supplies, intel—organized and accessible by thought alone.
His four Executioner's Edge blades materialized behind him, two at each shoulder, hovering in semi-transparent form.
Time to move.
Don headed north. Toward Kragg's domain. The General whose information he'd already purchased. The warrior who commanded 3,000 goblins and believed strength was the only truth.
Perfect first target.
[They're all going to die, little seed.]
Madness's voice whispered, soft and venomous.
Don said nothing. But he didn't disagree.
As he moved through the Shadowfen, Don's mind wandered to a different problem. His four blades were powerful, versatile, but limited to close-to-medium range. The lightning spear he'd thrown at Vex had been effective, but crude—a desperate improvisation.
What if he could create weapons intentionally? Combine his Manifestation Forging with Elemental Manipulation to craft temporary armaments for specific situations?
Worth experimenting.
Don's Mini-Map showed the six goblin scouts still 80 meters ahead, moving in a patrol pattern. He slowed his approach, using the forest for cover, and stopped in a small clearing.
Time to test an idea.
Don extended his right hand toward the ground and focused. Not on his Executioner's Edge blades—those were permanent manifestations of his Iron Will. This was different. Temporary. Expendable.
[SKILL: ELEMENTAL MANIPULATION] [ELEMENT: EARTH]
The ground responded.
Soil compacted beneath his palm, stones rising and fusing together. Not random—Don shaped it with his will, using his enhanced Intelligence to calculate structure, weight distribution, optimal form.
A spear shaft. Two meters long. Solid stone reinforced with compressed earth.
[MANA COST: 40]
The shaft rose from the ground, hovering before him. Stable. Heavy. But incomplete.
Now the dangerous part.
Don focused on the spear's tip and switched elements.
[ELEMENT: LIGHTNING]
Blue-white electricity crackled into existence, gathering at the spear's point. Not wild, not chaotic—Don compressed it, shaped it, formed it into a blade of pure lightning extending half a meter from the stone tip.
The voltage was extreme. The air around it ionized, creating a faint ozone smell. The blade hummed with barely contained violence.
[MANA COST: 80]
But the two elements were fighting each other. Earth was stable, grounded. Lightning was volatile, seeking release. The connection point between shaft and blade was unstable.
Don activated his third skill.
[SKILL: MANIFESTATION FORGING] [FUSING ELEMENTS...]
His will—that iron determination forged from sacrificing every emotion—pressed down on both elements like a vice. Cooperate. Merge.
HOLD.
The earth and lightning fused.
The stone shaft gained faint blue veins running through it, conducting the lightning safely. The lightning blade stabilized, no longer trying to discharge randomly. The entire weapon achieved equilibrium.
[MANA COST: 50]
[WEAPON CREATED: THUNDERSTONE LANCE]
[GRADE: D-RANK (TEMPORARY)] [DURABILITY: 30 MINUTES OR SINGLE HIGH-IMPACT USE]
[PROPERTIES:]
Physical Damage: High
Lightning Damage: Very
HighArmor Piercing: Excellent
Throwable: Yes
ParalyzeEffect: 3 seconds on hit
Chain Lightning: Strikes up to 3 nearby targets
[TOTAL MANA COST: 170]
Don grasped the lance and immediately felt its weight—roughly fifteen kilograms, perfectly balanced. The lightning blade crackled softly, eager to be used.
His Mini-Map showed the goblin patrol 75 meters north now, moving closer. Perfect testing opportunity.
Don adjusted his grip, calculated trajectory based on distance and wind, and threw.
His Strength of 188 made the lance move like a ballistic missile.
It crossed 75 meters in under two seconds, the lightning blade leaving a blue afterimage in the crimson twilight.
The curse shaman—slightly taller than the other scouts, wearing bone fetishes and clutching a gnarled staff—never saw it coming.
The Thunderstone Lance took it center mass.
CRACK-BOOOOM!
The lightning blade detonated on impact, releasing all its stored electricity in a single catastrophic discharge. The shaman's body convulsed violently, its staff exploding into splinters, bone fetishes shattering.
But the lightning didn't stop there.
It chained to the two nearest goblins—both within three meters—and coursed through their bodies with lethal voltage. They collapsed, smoke rising from charred flesh.
[+25 XP] (Curse Shaman) [+10 XP] [+10 XP] (chain lightning kills)
Three down. Three remaining.
The surviving goblins—all non-cultivators, weak and terrified—scrambled in panic. One tried to run. The other two raised crude spears with trembling hands.
Don's four Executioner's Edge blades solidified and shot forward.
[COST: 8 MANA/SECOND]
Two blades took the runner from behind—clean decapitations. The third and fourth blades converged on the last two goblins simultaneously, one thrust through a throat, the other bisecting at the waist.
Total combat duration: eight seconds.
[+10 XP] [+10 XP] [+10 XP]
Don stared at the final notifications, his enhanced Intelligence processing the numbers immediately.
Ten experience points. Per non-cultivator goblin.
The curse shaman—Stage 1, Level 2—had given twenty-five.
[SYSTEM NOTICE]
[Experience rewards scale based on power differential between Host and target]
[As Host grows stronger, weaker enemies provide diminishing returns] [Recommendation: Seek appropriately challenging opponents for optimal growth]
Don's jaw tightened slightly. So the System was forcing him to evolve. He couldn't grind weak enemies forever—he needed to hunt dangerous prey to continue advancing.
The non-cultivators were becoming worthless. Even low-level Stage 1 enemies gave minimal experience now.
He needed Generals. Commanders. Elites.
Good.
He preferred it that way anyway.
Don recalled his blades and let them fade to semi-transparent. He walked to where the Thunderstone Lance had fallen—or what remained of it. The stone shaft was intact but heavily cracked, the lightning blade completely dissipated. The weapon wouldn't survive another use.
As he watched, the stone crumbled to dust and returned to the earth.
Temporary indeed.
[ANALYZING WEAPON PERFORMANCE...]
[THUNDERSTONE LANCE - ASSESSMENT:]
Effectiveness: HIGH Damage
Output: VERY HIGH (Physical + Lightning + Chain Effect)
Cost Efficiency: MODERATE (170 mana for single devastating strike)
Tactical Value: EXCELLENT (ranged elimination of priority targets)
Limitations: Expensive, single-use, cannot be controlled after throw
[RECOMMENDATION: Reserve for high-value targets - commanders, shamans, armored elites]
Don crouched beside the curse shaman's corpse and activated Devoured Traits.
The body dissolved into streams of dark energy—gray, black, sickly green. All of it flowed toward Don, entering through his palms and chest.
[DEVOURING IN PROGRESS...]
[CURSE SHAMAN CONSUMED] [ANALYZING TRAITS...]
The absorption was quick—a Stage 1, Level 2 entity didn't have much power to offer someone who'd already consumed a Stage 2 General.
[ABSORPTION COMPLETE]
[MINOR ENHANCEMENTS DETECTED]
Wisdom: 190 → 192 (+2)
Magic Power: 187 → 189 (+2)
[NEW TRAIT ACQUIRED]
[CURSE SENSE - COMMON]
Detect active curses within 15 metersIdentify curse type and potencySlight resistance to low-level curses (+5%)
[LANGUAGE COMPREHENSION MAINTAINED]
Goblin Language: Master (No change)
Minimal gains, but the Curse Sense might prove useful. And every small advantage mattered.
[Little seed... you're wasting time on insects.]
Madness's voice was quieter than usual, almost bored.
[Hunt something that MATTERS.]
Don stood and continued north. His Mini-Map updated constantly, showing patrol routes and enemy positions. He avoided most—no point wasting energy on scouts when his real target waited ahead.
But some encounters were unavoidable.
Ninety minutes into the journey.
Don had eliminated two more patrols—small groups that had spotted him or blocked his path. Quick, efficient kills. His blades did most of the work.
[CURRENT XP: 4,387/6,500]
[CURRENT KP: 3,790 KP]
The experience gains were pathetic. Dozens of goblins killed, barely 260 XP earned. The non-cultivators gave almost nothing now.
Even the handful of Stage 1 warriors in the groups had provided minimal returns.
The System's message was clear: stop farming trash.
Don's Mini-Map showed something different ahead—a larger cluster of red dots. He crouched behind a massive tree trunk and focused.
[ENEMY DETECTED]
[GOBLIN PATROL - LARGE]
[COUNT: 24]
[COMPOSITION:]
18× Non-cultivators4× Stage 1 Warriors (Level 1-2)2× Stage 1 Shamans (Level 3) [THREAT ASSESSMENT: MODERATE]
Twenty-four. The shamans were the priority—Stage 1, Level 3 meant they could cast dangerous spells if given time.
Don created another Thunderstone Lance, the process smoother this time. His enhanced Intelligence had memorized the exact mana flow patterns, making creation faster and slightly more efficient.
[MANA COST: 165] (5 mana saved through optimization)
He studied the patrol through gaps in the trees. They were gathered around a crude waystation—some kind of supply checkpoint between camps. The two shamans stood near the center, staffs raised, dark mana swirling around them.
Don aimed carefully at the closer shaman and threw.
The lance crossed 90 meters in two seconds and impaled the shaman through the chest. The lightning detonated, chain-shocking the second shaman and three nearby warriors.
CRACK-BOOOOM!
[+35 XP] (Level 3 Shaman) [+35 XP] (Level 3 Shaman - chain kill) [+20 XP] [+20 XP] [+20 XP] (Stage 1 Warriors)
Five high-value targets eliminated instantly.
Nineteen remaining—mostly non-cultivators and one Stage 1 warrior.
Don was already moving, his four blades manifesting as he closed the distance. The goblins were in chaos—half trying to form defensive positions, half fleeing in terror.
The last Stage 1 warrior tried to organize resistance, roaring commands. Don's first blade took its head. The second and third blades swept through clusters of fleeing non-cultivators. The fourth blade pursued runners.
Within two minutes, all twenty-four were dead.
[+20 XP] (Stage 1 Warrior) [+180 XP] (18 non-cultivators at 10 XP each)
[TOTAL GAINED: +330 XP]
[CURRENT XP: 4,717/6,500]
[CURRENT KP: 4,270]
Better. The two Level 3 shamans and the warriors had provided decent experience. But the non-cultivators were almost worthless now—ten points each when they used to give twenty.
Don stood among the corpses, breathing steady, mana at acceptable levels.
[MANA: 6,688/9,250]
His four blades hovered around him, waiting. The waystation was crude but functional—some supplies, a fire pit, crude maps marking patrol routes.
Don scanned one of the maps with his Auto-Translate feature. The goblin script shimmered and reformed into text he could read:
"Northern border—Kragg's domain. Patrol route 7. Report to War Camp Alpha every six hours. No unauthorized entry beyond marker stones."
War Camp Alpha. Kragg's main fortress.
Don stored the map and continued north.
The terrain was changing. The trees grew even larger here, their trunks scarred with claw marks and old burns. The toxic mist was thicker, and the ground showed signs of heavy traffic—thousands of feet trampling the moss flat.
And in the distance, barely audible—
War drums.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Rhythmic. Constant. The heartbeat of an army.
Don's Mini-Map was reaching its maximum range, and at the very edge, he could see a massive cluster of red dots. Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands.
Kragg's domain.
Don climbed a particularly large tree, his enhanced Strength and Dexterity making the ascent effortless. From a high branch, he could see clearly:
The War Camp.
It sprawled across a valley like a festering wound. Wooden walls reinforced with bone and metal surrounded it. Watch towers rose at intervals, crude but functional. Thousands of goblins moved within—warriors training, shamans chanting, blacksmiths forging weapons.
And at the center, the largest structure—a war hall built from the bones of some massive creature, its ribs forming the walls, its skull serving as the roof.
Kragg's throne.
Don activated his Enemy Tracker, pushing it to maximum range.
[ANALYZING TARGET LOCATION...]
[KRAGG'S WAR CAMP]
[ESTIMATED POPULATION: 3,100+] [BREAKDOWN:]
Non-cultivators: 2,200Stage 1 (Levels 1-3): 780Stage 1 (Levels 4-6): 95Stage 2: 1 (General Kragg)
[GENERAL KRAGG DETECTED]
[STAGE 2, LEVEL 5]
[LOCATION: War Hall - Center]
[THREAT ASSESSMENT: EXTREME]
Three thousand one hundred goblins. Nearly eight hundred Stage 1 cultivators. And one Stage 2 General four levels above Don.
Direct assault was suicide.
But Don had advantages:
Intelligence - He knew Kragg's personality. The General respected strength and would accept honorable challenges.
Mobility - His Agility of 193 meant he could outmaneuver most enemies.
Range - His Thunderstone Lance gave him options for eliminating high-value targets from distance.
System - Mini-Map and Enemy Tracker would prevent ambushes.
The plan formed in Don's mind with cold clarity:
Phase 1: Weaken the camp—attack supply lines, eliminate elite warriors and commanders, create chaos.
Phase 2: Challenge Kragg directly—exploit his honor-bound nature to force single combat.
Phase 3: Kill him. Devour him. Grow stronger.
Simple. Brutal. Efficient.
[Ah. There's the predator I know.]
Madness's voice was pleased, almost proud.
[Make them BLEED, little seed.]
Don descended from the tree and began circling the camp, his Mini-Map tracking patrol routes, identifying weak points in the defenses.
The war drums continued their relentless rhythm.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Like a countdown to slaughter.
Don's four Executioner's Edge blades hummed with anticipation, and his mismatched eyes—both glowing with spreading gold cracks—reflected the crimson twilight like mirrors of death itself.
The hunt for a General had begun.