Galatea’s eyes widened slightly.

Clearly, she hadn’t expected an apology.

"...Hah?"

Even Brea looked stunned.

Luka merely smiled tiredly before pushing himself upright, ignoring the agony of his screaming muscles.

"I should’ve listened when you warned me about charging ahead recklessly." He wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. "You were right."

Galatea’s eyes darted between him and Brea, suspiciously staring at him for several long seconds.

"You must’ve hit your head harder than I thought..."

Levia and Brea couldn’t help but burst into laughter at Galatea’s words.

Even Zack, who stood nearby with a completely oblivious expression, nearly choked up.

Yet before Luka could answer, a thunderous boom echoed from the valley below.

Flames exploded upward from inside Amol Village.

The entire group immediately turned.

Goblin screams mixed with human battle cries as smoke billowed above the shattered rooftops.

Then another sound followed.

It was a deep, heavy warhorn which bellowed through the valley.

Galatea’s expression sharpened almost instantly as she rushed several steps ahead, almost falling from the clifftop.

"Galatea!"

Luka managed to catch her at the last moment.

"Let go... that’s grandpa’s horn... Luka, he’s in danger!"

"What!?"

...

At the western edge of the village, close to the mountain gap bordering the Fallen lands, armoured knights burst through the broken barricades with sheer might. Silver cloaks whipped violently behind them while longswords carved through goblin ranks.

At their head stood an older knight clad in darkened plate armour scarred by countless battles.

Gerard de Alverain.

Even from this distance, his presence stood apart from the others as his sword split a goblin clean from shoulder to waist.

His aura almost towered above him with a red glint.

Behind him stood knights, militia, and those who lacked training.

"Prepare for combat, this won’t be like the cavern!"

"Urah!"

At the centre of the Militia stood the petite figure, which leapt directly onto a barricade before burying an axe into a goblin’s skull.

Her orange hair danced wildly behind her.

"Princess Iris..." Brea whispered.

The former dwarf princess ripped her axe free before immediately hurling herself into another goblin twice her size. Despite her small frame and modest body, every swing carried terrifying force.

CRACK!

The goblin’s ribcage collapsed inward.

Yet Luka’s eyes weren’t focused on the battlefield itself.

Instead, they narrowed toward the rear of the goblin encampment, observing the towering wooden shrine rising behind the fortification, which emitted a bizarre black smoke that coiled unnaturally around it.

And standing atop the crooked structure was a thin figure draped in rotting hides and bone ornaments.

A Goblin Shaman.

Its staff struck the wooden floor once.

Immediately, the corpses scattered throughout the battlefield began twitching.

Luka’s expression darkened.

Now he understood why the dark elf was in the western forest and who gave him the power or the idea to become a necromancer.

It was this goblin!

Except that elf was barely a Tier one, and this damn thing...

"A Tier One Peak Shaman with Necromancy..."

Purple light slowly ignited beneath the creature’s feet.

Then dozens of fallen goblins began dragging themselves upright once more.

The battlefield descended into chaos.

"GRAAAAH!"

Half-rotten goblins clawed themselves from the mud amidst terrified screams. Broken limbs twisted unnaturally back into place while black Miasma leaked from their mouths and eye sockets.

One goblin missing its lower jaw lurched directly onto a wounded knight.

Crunch!

Its teeth sank into the man’s throat.

"MONSTERS!"

Several horses panicked instantly.

The goblin lines, which were on the verge of collapse just moments ago beneath Gerard’s charge, suddenly rushed forward without care for damage or pain, like a tide of rabid, hungry beasts.

High above the battlefield, the Goblin Shaman raised both arms toward the sky.

Its shrivelled green skin stretched tightly across thin bones while dark fetishes and skull fragments rattled against its body. Thick black veins pulsed beneath its neck as the Miasma surrounding the creature intensified.

Then it screamed.

"KRRRAAAAAAAK!"

The sound pierced through the valley like rusted metal scraping against bone.

Luka’s face darkened further.

"...It’s already begun corrupting itself."

Galatea tightened her grip upon her greatsword.

"We cannot linger! Let us march. Give the order, My Lord!" Though she carried a strange glint in her eyes as if knowing more than she let on, Galatea didn’t drop her duty as his knight and protector.

"What is that thing?"

"A dark priest," Luka answered coldly. "Goblin Shamans consume Dense Miasma to force evolution, even though most die before reaching this stage."

Below them, Gerard smashed a charging goblin aside with his shield before roaring toward the knights around him.

"FORMATION!"

The veteran knights immediately regrouped around the wounded despite the undead goblins clawing at their legs.

"Sir Alverain!" Iris cried out, stood atop a pile of corpses near the broken barricade, panting heavily while gore dripped from her axe. Her bright orange hair had partially escaped its braid, while blood stained her cheeks and armour.

"We cannot hold like this, what say you..."

Yet the moment she spotted Luka standing atop the mountain path, her words stopped, and she instead shouted.

"Lord Luka!"

A wave of relief washed over her fast at first, then she stopped dead.

Unfortunately, the distraction lasted only seconds.

The Goblin Shaman suddenly slammed its staff downward.

BOOOOM!

A thick wave of purple-black Miasma exploded outward from the shrine.

Every goblin below began shrieking violently.

Their muscles swelled, and murky yellow eyes turned crimson. Even their bodies began to mutate grotesquely beneath the corrupted Mana flooding through them.

Gerard’s expression shifted for the first time.

"What in damnation is this?!"

Atop the mountain pass, Luka stepped forward, his eyes locked on the chaos below.

He peeked back at the hunters, with a few still exhausted from the climb and shifting rocks, it would be hard to completely turn the tide.

’We have to kill the shaman.’

"Vaun!"

"Y-Yes, Master!?"

"I want you to remain here, use the height, and unique terrain to help the knights, if needs be, head onto the wall and shoot down as many living goblins as you can. You can ignore the corpses—they are resistant to death and arrows."

"...understood." Vaun never spoke back.

Instead, she listened to his words while glancing down at the distant goblins.

Though it was close to 100 metres, she believed she could help. Though if things got worse, she would jump down with the hunters and bridge the gap.

He turned to Zack and also peeked at Brea. "We need to slay that Shaman, but if Gerard and the others fall, everything will crumble. So Zack, Brea. I wonder if you will support Iris and Knight Commander Gerard, while Luvia, Galatea and I take on the Shaman."4

Brea’s brows raised.

"Are you sure? I believe my element is of great help here..."

"Exactly, with your divine aura, the undead won’t be able to revive, so keep my future wife safe!"

Luka used words that would rile her up and upset her after learning she was an Ogre, because anger and emotion were a huge part of her explosive powers.

’Especially since she can turn Miasma into Prana somehow...’

"Tsk, are you sure it’s enough?" Despite his initial thoughts, she didn’t get angry at him but asked in a softer, more concerned voice. "Can you defeat him, with so few people?"

"I should be fine. Please keep Iris safe."

"Mhm..."

Brea stared at him for several long seconds.

The wind brushed through her dark hair while distant screams echoed from the burning village below. Her enormous axe rested against one shoulder, though her grip tightened subtly around the handle.

"...Don’t die," she muttered quietly.

Luka blinked once before grinning faintly.

"What? Worried about me already?"

"Tch."

She kicked sand back in his face before turning away.

"I simply don’t want to carry your corpse back down the mountain after all this effort."

Though the slight tremble in her voice gave her true feelings away completely, Luka laughed while wiping the dirt and sand off his chest.

But even that caused a painful stabbing inside his chest again.

’Shit...’

Wrath still crawled beneath his skin like boiling tar. Every step felt unstable, and yet the moment his eyes settled upon the Goblin Shaman, his exhaustion faded, overwhelmed by a bizarre, growing hostility.

He and Oblivion wanted it.

They yearned for it.

That dense Miasma and corruption.

Below them, another explosion of black-purple energy erupted across the battlefield.

Several dead goblins suddenly convulsed before violently exploding into clouds of corrupted flesh.

The surviving goblins nearby absorbed the Miasma directly into their bodies.

CRACK!

Their bones twisted and snapped.

Muscles bulged grotesquely.

One of them even doubled in size before tearing apart a wounded knight with its bare hands.

The sudden change threw almost everyone off, causing them to struggle and lose morale rapidly against the revenant undead.

Gerard roared furiously.

"Hold the line!"

His blade cleaved through two goblins at once while the remaining knights regrouped around him desperately.

Meanwhile, Iris buried her axe into another creature’s skull before looking back toward Luka again. He couldn’t feel the arrogance or reluctance she once showed, but instead, a subtle fear grew around her as dozens of Amol Warriors fell.

"...Galatea. Levia."

The two women stepped beside him immediately.

Levia spun one dagger lazily around her fingers.

"So we’re assassinating the ugly priest?"

Galatea rested her greatsword across one shoulder.

"...Finally something straightforward."

Luka slowly exhaled.

Then dark red Miasma leaked faintly from the corners of his eyes once more while forcing himself to endure the growing pain.

"Follow me!"