14th Everdusk 2103, CGA Branch — Dyna Crest Country
My blade drove cleanly into the Hobgoblin's chest. He didn't flinch. Not even a grunt. Just stood there, gripping the totem tightly as if my attack meant nothing.
A creeping sense of dread washed over me.
I instinctively leapt back—and it saved me.
Because the moment I put distance between us, the smile on his face widened.
Then it began.
The totem he held aloft pulsed with eerie light—and something horrifying happened. The corpses of fallen goblins around the village began to twitch. Wisps of pale, translucent energy—souls—were torn from their lifeless bodies and drawn into the totem like moths to a flame.
Not just the goblins nearby.
No.
From far beyond the village's edge, even more soul fragments came rushing in.
For a moment, I stood frozen. Then I screamed.
My own body tensed as a foreign force surged into me—no, through me. My soul felt like it was being yanked out of my body, thread by thread, and I had no idea how to resist it.
Pain erupted—not physical, but spiritual. Agonizing.
The edges of my vision began to dim, and I could feel my consciousness unravelling. My soul was being torn away. I was dying—truly dying.
But then, just before everything faded to black, it stopped.
I collapsed to the ground, panting.
Alive.
Barely.
My HP remained intact, but a heavy, unnatural fatigue spread across my limbs. A system message confirmed it.
[Temporary Soul Damage Detected. All Stats -10% for 1 hour.]
My vision cleared—and what I saw made me go cold.
All the goblins… dead. Eyes lifeless. Their corpses are now husks with no souls left inside.My skeletons… shattered. Their bones were cracked and strewn like discarded trash.
At the center of it all knelt the Hobgoblin, head bowed before the totem. Chanting in a guttural, ancient tongue.
Then, the totem itself began to glow again—except now, instead of drawing energy in, it was pouring it out. And I recognised it.
Demonic Mana.
I had only read about it in ancient records—mana infused with a corrupted essence born from soul sacrifice. Not true Demonic Energy… but its diluted cousin, still strong enough to warp reality and mutate monsters into aberrations.
The Hobgoblin's ritual had worked.
The stolen souls—the totem—it had all been a sacrifice.
I tried to stop it. I dashed forward, slashing with my enchanted blade—only to recoil in shock. My sword vibrated violently, its edge cracking as if it had struck a mountain. The energy surrounding the Warlord was too dense, too overwhelming. I couldn't break through.
I could only watch.
Thirty seconds later, the ritual ended.
The totem turned to ash.
And the Hobgoblin Warlord stood tall once again—transformed.
His armour gleamed with unnatural polish, no longer dented. The large mace in his hand had morphed, blackened and spiked like something forged in a hell dimension. His wounds were healed. His muscles are bulkier. The air around him warped with every breath.
A system notification echoed in my ears.
[Warning: Host and Summons were exposed to a High-Tier Soul Spell.]
[Host's Soul Protected by: {????? ??????? (???-GRADE)}, {?????? ??????? (???-GRADE)}]
[Your Summons' Souls have been retrieved.]
[Dungeon Boss Mutated: Hobgoblin Warlord (Lv.13) → Corrupted Hobgoblin Warlord (Lv.19)]
[Dungeon Objective Updated: Kill the Mutated Boss.]
My eyes narrowed at the screen.
Protected by what?
I didn't have any relic or item that could ward off a soul spell—not consciously. Something... or someone had saved me.
But there was no time to think about it.
A thunderous roar erupted from the Warlord's throat. The sound alone made my ears bleed, and I dropped to one knee in reflex. The air rippled. My senses reeled.
When I looked up—he was gone.
My instincts screamed.
I threw myself sideways, and just in time. The mace came crashing down where I had stood a second ago. The entire area exploded.
Not cracked. Not dented.
Exploded.
The impact shattered half the village. Huts disintegrated into flying splinters. The crater left behind smoked with residual demonic heat.
I could barely believe what I'd just witnessed. That strike could've turned me into paste.
This… this isn't just a level gap. This is a boss-tier battlefield threat.
Still, I didn't lose focus. The dust cloud gave me cover.
I dashed in.
My blade slashed through the smoke, aiming for his side—striking true. The tip pierced through the outer armour, just enough to draw blood.
A red line trailed down his side.
A sliver of his HP bar dropped.
But instead of pain, his eyes filled with fury.
He moved faster than before.
Before I could retreat, his massive hand gripped my wrist.
Tight. Unforgiving.
I couldn't break free.
The next moment, I was airborne—thrown.
I crashed through one hut.
Then another.
And another.
Eight huts.
I only stopped when I hit the solid back wall of the village's boundary.
[-143 HP]
My body groaned in protest. Bones screamed. Muscles locked.
I slumped to the ground, vision flickering.
Then—darkness.
As consciousness faded, I heard him. Heavy footsteps. Drawing closer.
Searching.
Hunting.
To be continued...
Do you think Evan can survive this encounter? Will a hidden power awaken—or is this the end of the line? Let me know in the comments.
And if you're enjoying the story, then join me in this adventure with Evan.