The first kill was silent. Then the second. The third followed before the others could react. Panic soon spread among the goblins, yet the outcome had already been decided.
Arthur moved through them with controlled precision, but as the battle continued, something inside him stirred.
That familiar thrill.
The cold focus.
The quiet excitement rising with every successful strike.
It was not madness, nor blind bloodlust. It was something sharper. A deep satisfaction from perfect execution, from seeing his intent shape reality exactly as he willed.
The soul reaper within him awakened once more.
His movements became smoother, faster, flowing without resistance. Each attack connected effortlessly with the next. His dagger carved through flesh, guided by pure intent.
He found himself smiling.
"So this is what growth feels like…"
