Chapter 26 – Into the Green Shadows
Today was the day to get stronger — and Ethan wasn't going to waste a single scrap of it.
The forest was dense, a tangled maze that seemed to swallow light, with dappled greens turning shadow into tapestry. The air was thick, suffused with the scents of wild earth, moss, and distant danger. Roots curled like sleeping serpents beneath the mulch, ready to trip the unwary. Every movement—each heartbeat—felt like it might echo loud enough to call something lurking.
Moving through it demanded more than just sharp eyes; it required a sixth sense, the kind that could hear a blade's whisper rather than its shout, spot the twitch of hostile intent before it became a swing.
Ethan paused, chest rising and falling slow and deliberate. His heartbeat was the only thing he allowed to be ragged; everything else belonged on lockdown. A thought brought up his status panel, ghostly and blue, hovering in his vision.
Without hesitation, he dumped four points into INT and the rest into Mana — he needed clarity at a distance and a reservoir for the inevitable onslaught.
INT: 12.5 → 16.5
Mana: 9.9 → 13.9
The numbers flickered — only a heartbeat on the panel, but the change in him was seismic.
Reality fractured and rearranged itself. Where once there was just noise, now he parsed symphonies: every chirp, every skitter, every pressure point of mana twisting through leaves and loam. Insects whirred with mechanical precision; his perception ran lines of trajectory from their wings to their nests. A tapestry of mana ran through the undergrowth, woven with the lives of countless unseen beings. Even the temperature felt different — heat patterns stacked on cold air, defining outlines he'd never noticed before.
He stalked forward. Sword down, shoulders squared. As he passed between silent columns of trees, his gaze shifted not with nerves but with calculated focus. A presence hung about him: a tension, the sort that makes others re-evaluate their odds, even subconsciously.
Nearby, two adventurers in battered gear shot glances at his plate, then at him.
"E-ranked?" one hissed, lips curling. "What's next, a goblin in a crown?"
But Ethan's eyes never moved from the shadows. His slight smile was all the answer they'd get: keep watching.
First contact was pure chaos.
A shriek sliced through the air, sharp and guttural. In an instant, the canopy erupted—goblins spilling from the trees, blades gleaming with sickly light. Sunlight fractured against their crude weapons, scattering flecks of fear through the ranks. Ethan, senses humming with newfound clarity, read their movements not as random but as a wave — a fifty-bodied attack, with hobgoblins thundering in their wake.
"Form up! Shields front! Casters, backline!" The B-ranked leader's voice cracked against the madness, cutting through panic with steel discipline. Armor scraped, shields collided, boots churned the earth — a formation forging itself in anvil-hot urgency.
Ethan moved with the vanguard, sword lashed low, seeking the slightest chink in the goblin swarm. The first lunged, blade wide; Ethan dropped his shoulder, spun inside its reach, and drove steel through its throat in a movement so clinical that time seemed to slow. No wasted motion, no excess. Just lethal, perfect economy.
The line bent, hobgoblins smashing against it with primitive violence. Shields splintered, ribs threatened to crack, but the formation held. Ethan pivoted, sliding past a goblin's wild swing, blade catching a ray of sunlight as he disemboweled two more, then turned aside a hammer-like club to split a hobgoblin's chest with a rising slash.
Goblin slain: +5 XP
Hobgoblin slain: +15 XP
Each kill felt right, like the world was aligning itself around his will. Sweat dripped, but every breath was measured; every step, decisive. The edge of panic rippled through the E- and F-ranks, but Ethan's precision carved out a pocket of calm, a lodestone in the storm.
He locked into position as ordered, knowing that wandering off was an invitation for discipline, and in this melee, discipline equaled survival. The B-ranked watched, nod tightened into a grimace as Ethan's body count mounted—ten goblins, three hobgoblins, each dispatched with methodical detachment.
But the forest had more tricks.
Arrows zipped out from hidden blind spots, scoring bark and bouncing off shields. Pits, almost invisible beneath a scatter of leaves, swallowed a luckless fighter waist-deep before spearmen dragged him out. Spiked logs swung through the undergrowth with murderous intent, wire-tripped, but the formation absorbed the blows, shucking them off through sheer cohesion.
Still, something was changing in the fight. People noticed him, glancing for reassurance mid-strike. The rookies measured their own motions against his, borrowing confidence and survival from his poise. He became an invisible axis, the kind who turned the tide by never showing a crack.
Even the B-ranked commander was edging closer, eyes narrowed in appraisal.
"Front-left," the guy barked, voice like gravel. "You're sharper than you look, kid. You'll be getting promoted by sundown."
Ethan didn't flinch. He shifted up, taking in the front-line pressure. By the time the last goblin fell, its body painting the grass with murky streaks, his tally was climbing like a fever:
Goblins slain: 56 × 5 XP = 280 XP
Hobgoblins slain: 21 × 15 XP = 315 XP
There were no ogres. Yet. Those monsters would be deeper in the underbelly, where the forest turned ancient and mean.
The call to halt rang out, and for a moment, serenity returned. Armor loosened, canteens hissed open, adrenaline faded back into bodies. He wiped the sword clean on a ragged tunic, sliding it home with a practiced flick. His breathing: quiet power, not exhaustion.
He summoned his status panel with a touch of intent.
Level: 6
EXP: (336 + 280 + 315) / 6430
Total: 931 / 6430
Still a long climb, but the ascent was relentless. He was earning each point in blood and resolve.
The calm shattered as the ground began to thrum.
A deep, bone-rattling thud roared through the trees, then another, each echo harder than the last. Loose pebbles and leaves kicked up in jittering waves as the forest itself seemed to recoil. Shadowy figures loomed, blotting out the meager sunlight.
They emerged from the gloom: five ogres, titanic silhouettes swelling with muscle, twice the height of any man. Shoulders like boulders, skin stretched over blue-grey sinew that pulsed with dark energy. Tusks jutted out, mouths slavering, steaming gusts of rotten breath sweeping through the camp. Their weapons — tree trunks swung like clubs, boulders tied to axles — bespoke brutality and primal strength.
Panic rippled through the adventurers. Some edged backward, eyes wide and desperate, the collective survival instinct rearing up faster than any command. Armor clattered as trembling fingers tightened on hilts and hafts.
"Form up! Shields up! Spears forward! I said forward, damn it!" The B-ranked leader's voice was whip-crack, but the order ran thin against the rising terror. They were battered, bloodied, each mouthful of air a reminder that survival was no guarantee.
Ethan remained still, calm as dark water. His eyes swept the monsters, summoning his appraisal with practiced precision.
Inspect
Ogre — Level 16
STR: 28.4
VIT: 27.1
CON: 26.9
AGI: 23.6
STA: 29.3
INT: 12.8
Intelligence and power twined behind those brutal forms; these were more than mere beasts. They were engines of destruction, calibrated for slaughter.
Ethan's gaze locked. The world seemed to pause.
"These guys… are trouble."
Behind him, shields locked. Ahead, death waited in hulking shapes. The forest's green shadows were about to run red.