The morning mist clung to the trees when the scouts returned.
A wolf knelt before Luminus, ears pinned back. "Great One, strangers approach. Not many—perhaps ten. But they move with confidence. Not adventurers. Something else."
The goblins gathered nervously as the figures emerged from the treeline. At their head walked the elf messenger from before, his cloak shifting like water. Behind him strode warriors clad in leather and bark-like armor, their movements too precise to belong to simple hunters.
And in the center of their formation… came him.
The Lord of the Forest.
He was tall, with hair the color of silver moonlight, and eyes as green as spring leaves. His presence radiated authority, calm yet heavy, as though the very woods bowed to him. The goblins fell silent, instinctively cowed by his aura.
The elf bowed low. "Behold Lord Sylvas, Keeper of the Western Grove."
Luminus pulsed once, steadying himself. He wasn't about to shrink back now. "I am Luminus Aether," he said firmly, "protector of this village."
Sylvas studied him with mild curiosity. "A slime… with a name. And not just any name, but one that carries power. Tell me, little one, why do you gather goblins and wolves under your banner?"
The goblins shifted uneasily. This felt like judgment, a trial.
Luminus answered plainly. "Because they needed help. Because they deserved more than dying in fear. I didn't plan to lead them, but… someone had to."
Sylvas's eyes narrowed, his aura pressing heavier. "And yet by doing so, you disturb the balance. Goblins were weak for a reason. Wolves preyed on them for a reason. But you—" he gestured toward the new huts, the fields, the watchtowers—"you are changing the forest itself."
The pressure weighed on the goblins, many falling to their knees. Wolves whimpered, tails tucked. But Luminus refused to bow.
"Then let it change," he said. His body shone brighter, defying the weight. "If balance means weakness and despair, then I'll break it. If survival means evolving, then I'll lead them forward. I don't care what this forest was—I care what it can become."
For a moment, silence. Then Sylvas chuckled. It was not warm, but neither was it hostile.
"Bold words… for a slime. Perhaps you truly are different."
With a wave of his hand, the oppressive aura vanished. The goblins gasped, standing shakily, relief flooding the clearing.
"But words are only air," Sylvas continued. "To claim strength, one must prove it. I will not destroy you, Luminus Aether. But I will test you."
At his signal, two of his warriors stepped forward. Their muscles rippled with enchantments, weapons carved from enchanted wood gleaming faintly.
"If you and your followers can withstand their challenge," Sylvas said, "then I shall acknowledge your right to exist here. Fail, and I will scatter your village before it can poison the balance further."
The goblins bristled, fear and anger mixing. The wolves growled, ready to leap.
Luminus pulsed, his voice steady. "We accept."
The duel was set in the central clearing. Goblins ringed the edges, their eyes wide, as two of Sylvas's warriors faced Luminus's chosen defenders: Rugo the wolf-leader, and Kairn, the strongest of the named goblins.
"Remember," Luminus said quietly, "this isn't about killing. It's about proving we can stand."
Rugo bared his fangs. Kairn gripped his crude axe with trembling hands, then steadied himself.
The elf judge raised a hand. "Begin."
The clash was immediate.
The first forest warrior lunged at Rugo, spear flashing, but the wolf twisted aside, jaws snapping at the man's arm. Sparks flew as the spear's shaft blocked the bite. Meanwhile, Kairn charged his opponent with a roar, axe swinging wide. The warrior dodged smoothly, countering with a strike that knocked Kairn sprawling.
Gasps erupted. But before the warrior could finish him, Luminus's voice rang out.
"Kairn! Don't swing blindly—focus! Use your strength, but guide it!"
The goblin gritted his teeth, pushing himself up. He adjusted his grip, feet firm. This time, when the warrior struck, Kairn caught the blow on his axe and shoved back with raw force, sending the man stumbling.
The goblins cheered.
Meanwhile, Rugo was locked in a deadly dance, fangs and spear flashing. The warrior's movements were fluid, precise—but Rugo was faster, more instinctive. At last, with a feint and a sudden lunge, he pinned the spear to the ground and clamped his jaws onto the man's shoulder, forcing surrender.
The judge raised his hand. "Enough!"
Both warriors, battered but alive, stepped back. The goblins and wolves erupted into cries of triumph.
Sylvas raised a brow, clearly impressed. "I expected failure. Yet you endured."
He inclined his head slightly—not a bow, but a mark of respect. "Very well, Luminus Aether. I acknowledge you. This village may stand… for now."
Relief swept through the goblins like a wave. Luminus pulsed once, glowing warmly.
"Thank you," he said. "We will not squander this chance."
Sylvas turned, his cloak whispering. "Do not disappoint me. For if you upset the forest's balance recklessly, I will return. And next time, it will not be a test."
With that, the Lord of the Forest and his retinue vanished into the trees, leaving the village shaken but victorious.
That night, the goblins celebrated around roaring fires. Meat roasted, wolves howled joyfully, and for the first time, laughter filled the air without fear.
But Luminus, watching the flames, knew this was only the beginning. If one lord had come to test them, others would surely follow.
And though his people called him "King" in whispers, he wondered—was he truly ready to bear such a crown?