Jace ran with all the strength he had left, but the arrow in his arm throbbed with an unnatural heat. Poison. His steps faltered. His knees gave out, and he collapsed onto the forest floor. The world spun around him in dizzy circles.
From the shadows, the goblins emerged. Their guttural laughter echoed through the trees as they surrounded him, confused by what they saw. With his long black-blue hair tangled across his face, his slender frame, and the delicate necklace hanging from his neck, they didn't see a male adventurer. They saw a helpless girl.
In the twisted minds of goblins, there was a grim rule. Men were executed, but women were dragged away, kept alive for breeding and forced servitude. These monsters didn't know Jace was neither weak nor female. They thought he was prey.
As they hauled him back toward their camp, ropes cutting into his wrists, the story shifted elsewhere.
The Night Troupe had just arrived on the outskirts of the village.
Known across the Amiha Kingdom as one of the strongest independent adventurer parties, the Troupe was led by Dante, a stoic warrior with a massive sword strapped across his back. Beside him stood Korr, a cloaked figure with cold eyes and a presence that chilled even fellow A-rankers. They called him the Terror of the Night.
"We were supposed to be dealing with goblins," Dante muttered, staring at the remnants of a burned house. "This looks like a massacre."
The village chief, pale and shaking, explained everything. They had requested extermination help thinking it was a typical goblin infestation. Just a D-rank job. They never expected this.
Korr slipped into the forest without a word. When he returned an hour later, his face was grim.
"This isn't a D-rank situation. Not even close," he said. "It's an A-rank threat."
The others gathered around as Korr drew a map in the dirt with his dagger. "There are over thirty Goblin Generals in the area. Organized. Armed. They've got defensive formations, patrol rotations, and what looks like a small fortress. Some of them are evolving."
A silence fell over the group.
Goblin Generals were different. Smarter. Stronger. Capable of leading squads and building structures. If even one of them evolved into a Grand General, the threat would escalate beyond control. And worse, there were already signs of it.
"They've taken dozens of adventurers prisoner," Korr said. "Some women are still alive. You know why."
No one replied. They all knew.
"Each woman could be forced to bear up to ten goblins in one night," Korr continued. "This has been going on for weeks, maybe more. We missed the signs."
Dante gritted his teeth. "One Goblin General is as strong as a B-rank adventurer. Maybe they've got even Grand Generals Goblin in there, that's enough power to level an entire village."
They didn't have the luxury of delay.
That same night, under the cover of darkness, the Night Troupe launched their assault.
Korr led the first wave. Moving like a shadow through the trees, he eliminated ten goblin scouts before the rest of the team moved in. Even at his level, his breath was already ragged. He had used up most of his stamina and drained nearly a dozen mana potions just in the opening strike.
Once his signal was given, the camp erupted into chaos. Blades clashed. Magic exploded. Arrows filled the sky. The goblins fought back with disturbing coordination, moving like a trained army rather than wild beasts. They had archers, mages, and warriors of their own.
Korr didn't stay with the group. He slipped deeper into the enemy stronghold, searching for prisoners.
What he found made his stomach turn.
Inside a filthy, torch-lit cave, dozens of women were chained and trapped. Some cried silently, others stared into nothing. The Goblin King stood at the center, towering and disgusting, forcing another girl to the ground.
Korr didn't speak. He moved. One swift strike. The Goblin King's head fell to the ground, bouncing once before it stopped.
But the damage had already been done.
Some of the women had taken their own lives. Others were too far gone to respond. And then, in the corner, Korr spotted a familiar figure.
Jace.
He was locked inside a cage, barely conscious. His robes were torn, and his arms hung limp. Korr approached cautiously.
"You're alive?" he asked.
Jace opened his eyes slowly. "They thought I was a girl," he muttered weakly. "Because of the hair."
Korr sighed and broke the lock. "Can you walk?"
"Barely."
They didn't have time to rest.
The rumble came from deeper within the cave.
The goblins weren't finished.
Five Goblin Generals emerged, weapons raised, snarling as they surrounded the entrance. Behind them were the true horrors. Three Grand Generals stepped out, their armor dented and bloodstained, their weapons stolen from fallen adventurers. One carried a massive enchanted axe, another wore polished A-rank armor too large for its body.
Korr stepped forward, shielding Jace and the remaining women.
"We're outnumbered," he said quietly. "If you can cast anything, do it."
Jace tried to raise his hand, but the poison burned in his veins. His vision flickered. His healing magic worked... but it wasn't enough. The poison resisted his spells. No matter how much mana he poured into his body, it wouldn't cleanse.
He cursed under his breath. He had never been taught a purification spell.
His grandfather had told him to explore his powers, to experiment. But he never expected it to matter this soon.
Then he saw something strange. A poisonous mushroom growing near the wall of the cave. His eyes widened.
He placed it in his palm, stared at it, and summoned his mana. Not to heal, but to change. What if he reversed the purpose?
He cast the spell, twisting the healing circle in his mind. Not a cure. A breakdown.
The first time, nothing happened.
The second time, he felt it immediately—the poison started to fade. His chest no longer burned. His hands stopped trembling. The fog in his mind began to lift.
The poison was gone.
But his mana was nearly drained.
Korr gave him another potion, but it still wasn't enough. Jace's body couldn't handle the strain. His eyes fluttered closed, and he collapsed.
Korr caught him just before his head hit the stone floor.
"Tch. Kid pushed himself too far," he muttered.
Now, with Jace unconscious and the goblin generals approaching, Korr was left to defend the women alone. He moved cautiously, playing it safe, conserving his mana and stamina while trying to buy time. The Grand Generals weren't charging yet. They were watching, waiting, confident in their strength.
Among the women, one of them stepped forward, brushing dirt from her face. Her clothes were torn, but she held herself with surprising composure.
"I know some high wind magic," she said.
Korr turned to her sharply. "What's your name?"
"Lyra. Daughter of Duke Elvarian," she answered. "I was on a scouting mission before we were captured."
Korr's eyes narrowed. "A noble daughter using high magic? You're not lying?"
Lyra's expression hardened. "I wouldn't offer if I couldn't. But it takes time to cast."
Korr glanced back toward the Grand Generals, who were slowly starting to move forward, weapons raised. "Then start casting. I'll lure them."
Lyra stepped into the center of the cave and began her chant. The wind around her stirred, lifting her hair into the air. Symbols glowed beneath her feet. They were complex, old, the kind used only in noble magic circles. Wind gathered and condensed in her hands, spinning with deadly speed.
Korr stepped into the open, drawing the attention of the goblins.
"Come on, you bastards," he growled.
He threw a dagger at one of them and ran to the side, dodging an incoming axe. The goblins roared and charged, chasing him while Lyra continued her incantation.
The wind pressure in the room grew heavier. Even the goblins felt it. The women shielded their eyes as dust and debris lifted from the ground. Lyra's voice rose above the chaos.
And then she finished.
A massive vortex of compressed wind shot from her hands, cutting through the air like a divine blade. It screamed across the cavern with a howl that made even the goblins freeze.
The spell tore into one of the Grand Generals first, slicing clean through its enchanted armor like paper. The goblin didn't even scream. Its body was torn apart, limbs flying in every direction. The second Grand General raised a shield, but it was obliterated on impact.
Korr's eyes widened.
He barely managed to leap to the side as the vortex passed just inches from his body. The pressure alone knocked him back, slamming him into the wall. As the spell dissipated, the cave went silent.
Even the goblins stood stunned.
Korr coughed, sitting up with a groan. "What the hell was that?"
He looked at Lyra, who collapsed to her knees, sweat pouring from her face. She was panting heavily, struggling to stay conscious.
Korr stared at the scorched trail left by the spell. The cave walls were carved open. One of the Grand Generals was gone. Another was missing half its torso. The last one stood frozen in shock.
That kind of magic... only high nobles could cast it. And even then, only a handful of houses had the talent and training.
"Wind Elemental Severance..." Korr muttered under his breath. "Only three families in the entire kingdom can use that."
He turned to Lyra, now barely clinging to consciousness.
"Who the hell are you really?" he whispered.
But there was no time to get answers. The final Grand General roared and charged, filled with rage and grief. Its eyes were bloodshot, and its muscles swelled with berserker fury.
Korr wiped the blood from his lips and stood up again.
"Let's finish this."