A tense silence settled over the clearing. The rival goblin tribe had gathered in a rough circle, their ragged forms illuminated by the flickering firelight. On one side stood Leonhart, his golden eyes gleaming like a predator's. Opposite him, a hulking goblin, larger than any hobgoblin he had ever seen, cracked his knuckles with a confident sneer.
The goblin chief was nearly as tall as a human, his sinewy muscles covered in crude armor pieced together from scavenged human gear. His jagged blade, still stained with old blood, rested on his shoulder.
"You think you strong, little one?" The chief's guttural voice rumbled through the crowd. "Kill you. Take your goblins. Your cave."
Leonhart smirked, stretching his neck side to side. Arrogant. He doesn't see the difference between us yet.
"You can try," Leonhart said, shifting into a low stance. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his stolen dagger, his mana subtly reinforcing his grip. "But you'll die here."
The goblins around them cheered and snarled, some pounding their weapons against the dirt in anticipation. This was not just a battle—it was a show of dominance. The strongest would rule.
With a guttural roar, the goblin chief charged, his massive blade cleaving the air. Leonhart sidestepped at the last second, the gust of the swing brushing past his face. He twisted, bringing his dagger up in a precise strike toward the chief's exposed side.
The chief reacted with unexpected speed, twisting his body to absorb the blow on his armored shoulder before slamming a fist into Leonhart's gut. The impact sent Leonhart skidding backward, his boots digging into the dirt.
The crowd erupted into a frenzy.
Leonhart exhaled sharply, steadying himself. He's stronger than I thought. But strength alone isn't enough.
The chief grinned, showing yellowed, sharp teeth. "Fast. But not strong enough."
Leonhart rolled his shoulders, his dagger spinning in his palm. "Strength is useless if you can't hit your target."
Snarling, the chief lunged again, but this time, Leonhart was ready. He weaved through the attack, his footwork perfect, honed from countless battles in his past life. Every slash, every thrust of the chief's blade missed its mark by a hair's breadth. The chief was powerful, but he lacked technique.
Leonhart darted in close, his mana surging through his limbs. His dagger flickered in the dim light, carving deep gashes into the chief's arms and legs. Blood sprayed onto the dirt, but the chief refused to fall.
"Coward! Fight me!" the chief roared, swinging wildly.
Leonhart ducked under the massive strike and countered with a devastating slash across the chief's knee. The larger goblin staggered, his balance faltering.
Leonhart seized the moment. With a burst of mana-enhanced speed, he leaped, flipping his dagger in his hand before plunging it deep into the chief's throat.
Silence.
The chief choked, his blade slipping from his fingers as he collapsed to his knees. Leonhart stepped back, watching as the life drained from the goblin's eyes before he crumpled to the ground, motionless.
The goblins stared, stunned. Then, one by one, their expressions twisted into rage.
"Kill him!" one shrieked.
A dozen goblins rushed forward, but before they could take a single step, Leonhart's mana flared.
A crushing wave of pressure filled the air. The charging goblins faltered, their bodies freezing mid-motion. Their eyes widened in terror as their legs buckled beneath them. One by one, they fell to their knees, gasping for breath under the sheer weight of his presence.
Leonhart stepped forward, his golden eyes sweeping over them. "You belong to me now," he said, his voice quiet but carrying absolute authority. "Or you can join your chief in the dirt."
Silence. Then, slowly, the goblins lowered their heads. Submission.
Drog and Gurruk grunted in approval. The remaining goblins from Leonhart's tribe stood tall, now reinforced by nearly twenty new members. In total, their tribe had grown to almost thirty—three hobgoblins, the rest goblins, but ones with sharper eyes, quicker reflexes. More intelligent than the simple-minded wretches he had led before.
Leonhart surveyed his new forces, his mind already calculating. The village was still their main target, but now, with greater numbers, their approach could be different. More controlled.
He smirked. "Rest tonight. We move at dawn."
The goblins roared in response, the sound echoing into the night. The war had only just begun.