The stench of burning wood and blood filled the air before they even reached the village.
Leonhart's stomach twisted as the acrid smoke clawed at his lungs. His boots pounded against the dirt, kicking up ash as he sprinted ahead of the others. Around him, the lizardmen warriors and his own goblins struggled to keep up. They had been marching toward their newly fortified home, eager to solidify their growing power, only to be met with this nightmare.
The village was in flames.
Screams echoed through the night—cries of goblins, young and old, cut short by the sickening sound of steel slicing through flesh. The sight of the massacre sent a surge of fury through Leonhart's veins. His people, the ones who had trusted him, who had followed him, were being slaughtered like cattle.
"Damn it all…" he growled, drawing his sword. His grip was so tight his knuckles turned white.
Drog, Bruk, and Sshorak, the lizardman commander, skidded to a stop beside him, their expressions dark.
"Who… who could do this?" Bruk rasped, eyes darting wildly over the carnage.
Leonhart didn't answer. He already knew. His golden eyes locked onto the figures moving effortlessly through the battlefield.
Three knights.
Each clad in polished steel, their movements precise, methodical. Unlike the brutish, reckless humans Leonhart had fought before, these warriors dispatched goblins with lethal efficiency. He watched as one of them cut down an armored hobgoblin with a single stroke, their blade moving so fast that the poor bastard had no time to react.
His heart pounded as he saw Gurruk.
The hobgoblin was still alive—barely. Blood poured from a deep gash across his chest as one of the knights, a tall man with sharp features, held him by the throat. Gurruk struggled, but the knight's grip was ironclad.
"Another tough one," the knight mused, tilting his head. "These goblins are more troublesome than I expected."
Leonhart felt something inside him snap.
With a roar, he shot forward. Everything else—his warriors, the burning village, the distant screams—blurred into nothing.
The knight turned just as Leonhart swung his sword.
Metal met metal in a shower of sparks as the knight blocked at the last moment, his eyes widening in surprise.
"You…!" Leonhart growled, pushing against the blade. There was something familiar about this man. Something from his past life.
The knight's brows furrowed before realization dawned in his eyes. "You're no ordinary goblin…" He shoved Leonhart back and smirked. "But that doesn't matter."
Leonhart barely had time to react before the other two knights approached, their presence exuding an unmistakable pressure.
Mana.
The realization hit him like a hammer. These weren't ordinary knights. They were mana-wielders.
A rank above the common soldiers. A breed of warriors that were rare, even in the empire. And they were here.
"You're Aldric, aren't you?" Leonhart spat, keeping his stance firm despite the weight of their presence.
The lead knight, Aldric, chuckled. "Oh? A goblin that knows my name? That's interesting." He tilted his head. "Did I kill someone important to you?"
Leonhart's teeth clenched. The memories were hazy, but he remembered this man from his past life—an imperial knight who had spent time at the empire's border. Whether Aldric had been a friend or an enemy back then, Leonhart didn't know.
But right now, he was the enemy.
The other two knights exchanged glances. "Aldric, we should finish this and move on. We have other matters to attend to."
Aldric sighed. "Yes, yes. I suppose we do." He turned to Leonhart. "A shame, really. You seem competent, for a monster."
Then they moved.
The battle that followed was unlike anything Leonhart had ever faced. The knights weren't just skilled—they were monsters in their own right. Every attack Leonhart made was met with terrifying precision. Every opening he tried to exploit was shut down before he could take advantage.
He was losing.
Sweat dripped down his forehead as his breathing grew ragged. The knights were pushing him back, step by step, their relentless strikes forcing him on the defensive. Blood ran from a wound on his shoulder, but he ignored it, focusing everything on survival.
Then, as Aldric raised his blade for the finishing blow, something inside Leonhart snapped.
A surge of raw, uncontrollable energy erupted from his core, sending shockwaves through the battlefield. The ground cracked beneath his feet as an overwhelming force exploded outward.
Mana.
But it wasn't the same as before. It was different. Wilder. Darker.
Leonhart barely had time to process what was happening before the pain struck. It felt like his entire body was being torn apart and rebuilt at the same time. His muscles burned, his bones ached, and his very skin felt like it was melting away.
He let out a guttural roar as his golden mana darkened, twisting into an inky black mist. His skin shifted from its usual green to a deep, unnatural gray.
Bruk, Drog, and the others watched in horror as Leonhart's body changed.
"What… what is happening to him?" Bruk muttered, his voice laced with fear.
Sshorak narrowed his eyes. "An evolution… but not a normal one."
Leonhart's vision blurred as the transformation completed. His body felt lighter, stronger, yet at the same time, unstable. He could feel the power coursing through him, but controlling it felt impossible.
Aldric took a step back, genuine surprise flickering across his face. "Well, now… this is unexpected."
The other knights, however, weren't as composed. They exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the danger before them.
Aldric sighed. "Tch. I'd love to test your new strength, but… we don't have time for this."
Without hesitation, he turned toward his fellow knights and, in a shocking move, drove his blade straight through one of them. The knight gasped, eyes widening as blood spilled from his mouth.
"Aldric…?"
Aldric didn't answer. He grabbed the second knight and did the same, cutting them both down in a single, fluid motion. Their bodies fell to the ground, lifeless.
Leonhart's breath hitched. "You bastard…"
Aldric wiped his blade on his cloak, unfazed. "A necessary sacrifice." He turned to Leonhart, smirking. "We'll meet again, Variant."
With that, he vanished into the smoke, leaving behind only the corpses of his fallen comrades.
Leonhart took a step forward to chase him—only for his vision to blur again. The overwhelming mana, the forced evolution… it was too much.
His knees buckled.
Darkness crept at the edges of his vision, and as his body gave out, the last thing he heard was Drog calling his name before everything went black…
The end of Chapter 21.