Chapter 216 — The March of the Fallen
On the outskirts of the Goblin Settlement...
A lone Goblin was running.
Not walking.
Not scouting.
Running.
His footsteps tore through the forest path as he sprinted toward the settlement gate.
His breathing was ragged.
His body was covered in blood.
Traces of ice still clung to his legs and arms, while several parts of his clothing had been torn apart.
The Goblins guarding the settlement immediately noticed him.
They stared.
Confusion quickly turned into shock.
That was one of the scouts stationed at the valley pathway.
"What happened to him?"
"Why is he covered in blood?"
"Wait... isn't he from the scout group?"
The Goblin didn't stop.
He didn't even acknowledge them.
Someone tried to grab his arm.
"Hey! What happened?!"
The scout violently pulled himself free.
"I need to see the Shaman!"
His voice was filled with panic.
He rushed through the gate.
The Goblins watching him exchanged uneasy glances.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
The scout didn't even bother reporting to the guards.
He didn't stop to explain.
He simply ran straight toward the Shaman's hut.
The moment he reached it...
He pushed the entrance open and barged inside.
He didn't ask for permission.
He didn't bow.
He didn't even hesitate.
Right now...
Whatever respect he owed the Shaman was insignificant compared to the terror burning inside him.
The Shaman was already in a foul mood.
After the previous incident involving the mysterious human, his patience had been stretched thin.
The moment the door was thrown open, his furious voice erupted.
"How dare you barge in here like that?!"
The Shaman turned sharply.
But then...
He recognised the Goblin.
His expression immediately changed.
The anger didn't disappear.
It became something more focused.
He looked at the scout from head to toe.
"What are you doing here?"
His eyes narrowed.
"Shouldn't you and the others be guarding the valley pathway?"
His gaze fell upon the blood.
Then the ice.
"What happened to you?"
The Shaman slowly raised his staff.
Mana erupted from it.
BOOM!
An invisible force instantly wrapped around the scout.
His body was lifted from the ground.
The Goblin struggled.
"My lord..."
His voice trembled.
"Let me down..."
The Shaman's eyes remained cold.
"Speak."
The scout swallowed.
"It's... It's about that human."
The Shaman's expression darkened.
The next instant...
Thud!
The magical restraints disappeared.
The Goblin crashed onto the ground.
He quickly pushed himself upright.
The Shaman stepped forward.
"Tell me."
His voice was low.
"Did that puny human appear again?"
His grip tightened around his staff.
"If he has..."
A furious glint appeared in his eyes.
"Don't let him leave alive this time."
"The human must die."
His expression twisted with rage.
"The future of our tribe depends on it."
The scout opened his mouth.
"Sir... we..."
He couldn't finish.
Fear had already seized his throat.
The Shaman's patience snapped.
"Don't spit out your words one at a time."
His eyes burned with fury.
"I don't like those who waste my time."
The scout shrank back.
But he knew there was no escaping this.
He took a trembling breath.
"Sir..."
His voice shook.
"Our two entire scout groups..."
He lowered his head.
"They're dead."
The Shaman's pupils contracted.
"Dead?"
The scout continued.
"Under the hands of..."
He struggled to breathe.
"That human."
Silence.
The Shaman stared at him.
The scout's body trembled harder.
"He appeared out of nowhere..."
"He slaughtered us one by one."
"He was covered in armour made from earth and ice magic."
His voice became increasingly frantic.
"He cut through our comrades with flames and lightning."
"We couldn't do anything..."
His fists clenched.
"Everyone is dead..."
"Except me."
He lowered his head further.
"I only managed to escape after tremendous effort."
His voice cracked.
"Lord..."
"That human isn't the same as before."
The Shaman didn't respond.
The scout slowly looked up.
"He's become something else."
For the first time...
The Shaman's expression contained something other than anger.
Shock.
His mind immediately returned to the previous encounter.
That human.
The same human who had been desperately fleeing from the Goblins.
The same human who had used tricks, traps, and the terrain to escape.
The same human who had seemed unwilling to confront the settlement directly.
'How could he...'
The Shaman's thoughts raced.
If that human now possessed enough strength to single-handedly slaughter an entire scout group...
Then why had he been hiding before?
Why had he fled?
What had happened inside that valley?
The Shaman's eyes became increasingly suspicious.
His hand suddenly shot forward.
He grabbed the scout by the throat.
The Goblin's body was lifted from the ground.
"How do you know?"
His voice was dangerously calm.
"How do you know this is the same human?"
The scout struggled to breathe.
"Sir..."
He forced the words out.
"His blade."
The Shaman's eyes narrowed.
"The blade was the same."
"And..."
The scout swallowed.
"The flames."
His trembling eyes met the Shaman's.
"The colour was the same as the flames from the human during the previous attack."
"That's how we recognised him."
The Shaman slowly released his grip.
The scout dropped to the floor, coughing.
But the Shaman was no longer looking at him.
His mind was elsewhere.
He was thinking.
Calculating.
Something about this situation didn't make sense.
Yet one thing was certain.
The human had returned.
The Shaman suddenly turned toward the Goblin standing outside the hut.
"You."
The guard immediately straightened.
"Alert every warrior."
His voice thundered.
"Put them on standby."
The Goblin nodded.
"A sneaky human is roaming around our territory."
His eyes became cold.
"If he is found..."
"Execute him on the spot."
The guard's expression hardened.
"Do not allow him to escape."
The Shaman lifted his staff.
"And bring his head to me."
A murderous smile appeared on his face.
"I don't care whether he is alive when you bring him back."
"His head is enough."
The guard immediately bowed.
"Yes, my lord."
The Shaman continued.
"Alert every scout roaming the surrounding forest."
"Search for any trace of that human."
"If you discover him..."
His voice became even colder.
"Do not confront him alone."
"Alert the warriors first."
"Then report everything unusual directly to me."
The Goblin nodded rapidly.
"Understood."
He immediately turned and left.
The entire settlement changed within minutes.
The casual atmosphere disappeared.
Goblins who had been wandering around were pulled into defensive positions.
Warriors gathered around the settlement's perimeter.
Scouts spread throughout the surrounding forest.
Every entrance was watched.
Every movement was inspected.
The Goblin Settlement had entered full defensive mode.
They were waiting for one enemy.
One human.
Hours passed.
Nothing happened.
The scouts found nothing.
No footprints.
No blood.
No broken branches.
No trace of the human.
The Shaman grew increasingly irritated.
Then...
He made another decision.
A group of fifty Goblin warriors was dispatched toward the valley pathway.
They moved carefully through the forest.
Weapons ready.
Eyes constantly scanning their surroundings.
Eventually...
They reached the pathway.
And stopped.
The scene before them was strange.
Blood soaked the ground.
But there were no bodies.
No corpses.
Nothing.
The entire scout group had disappeared.
Even the traces of battle were limited.
It was as though someone had cleaned the battlefield.
The warriors searched the area.
Nothing.
Not even a trace of the human.
When the report reached the Shaman...
His expression became troubled.
If the human had truly returned...
Then why wasn't he attacking?
The human's previous actions had shown that he was willing to take risks.
He had attacked their settlement before.
He had killed their scouts.
He had even threatened the Shaman directly.
So why disappear now?
The Shaman narrowed his eyes.
He began using his connection with the tiny beasts scattered around the forest.
Through their senses...
He searched.
Trees.
Rocks.
Grass.
Paths.
Everything.
Nothing.
The human was nowhere.
It was as though he had never been there.
The Shaman's expression became darker.
'Did he flee?'
Perhaps the human had escaped deeper into the forest.
Perhaps he had already abandoned this area.
But the Shaman couldn't relax.
He couldn't simply sit inside his hut and wait.
Not after what had happened.
The settlement remained on high alert.
One hour passed.
Then another.
Five long hours of waiting.
The Goblins began to grow restless.
Some even started questioning the Shaman's orders.
'Maybe the human really left.'
'Perhaps he escaped.'
'Why are we still waiting?'
Then...
A scout came running.
"My lord!"
The Shaman immediately looked up.
"What?"
The scout stopped before him, breathing heavily.
"We found him."
The Shaman's eyes widened.
"What did you say?"
"One of the scout groups spotted a single being."
The scout swallowed.
"He resembles the human."
The Shaman's face changed.
Then...
A massive grin spread across his face.
"I knew it."
His eyes burned with fury.
"That human wouldn't run forever."
He tightened his grip around his staff.
"Today..."
His grin became savage.
"Today will be the day his skull joins my staff."
He lifted the staff.
Three Goblin heads were already mounted upon it.
They had been turned into ornaments.
Trophies.
Symbols of the Shaman's authority.
The Shaman looked at them.
Then imagined a fourth.
"I'll make sure he becomes another trophy."
His voice carried murderous excitement.
"Gather everyone."
The command spread through the settlement.
More than one hundred and fifty Goblin warriors assembled.
The massive force marched out.
The forest trembled beneath their footsteps.
Branches shook.
Leaves fell.
The ground constantly vibrated beneath the sheer number of bodies moving through it.
The scouts led the way.
The Shaman walked among the warriors, his staff firmly in his grasp.
This time...
He wouldn't allow the human to escape.
Even if that human ran back into the valley pathway...
The Shaman would follow.
He would personally enter that cursed place.
And kill him.
'You won't escape this time.'
His eyes burned with anticipation.
The scouts suddenly slowed.
"There."
The leading Goblin pointed ahead.
The army stopped.
Silence spread through the forest.
And then...
They saw him.
The human.
But the scene before them wasn't what they had expected.
The Goblins froze.
One by one...
Their expressions changed.
Confusion.
Shock.
Then fear.
Between the trees was a small open area.
Several trees had been violently cut down.
Their trunks lay scattered across the ground.
And beneath them...
Was a mountain of blood and corpses.
The bodies of Goblins were piled across the clearing.
Blood soaked the earth.
Severed weapons lay among the remains.
The smell of death hung heavily in the air.
No one spoke.
Not a single Goblin moved.
At the center of the clearing...
Someone was sitting on the exposed roots of a fallen tree.
Calmly.
Almost leisurely.
He flicked his blade.
Shing.
Blood slid from the edge.
Another flick.
The remaining droplets scattered onto the ground.
The man didn't even look toward the approaching army.
His body was covered in armour formed from bones and earth.
Ice reinforced the structure, giving the armour a cold, jagged appearance.
Lightning faintly crackled around him.
And resting casually in his hand...
Was a crimson blade.
The same blade.
The same flames.
The same human.
The Shaman's grin disappeared.
For the first time...
He realised something.
They hadn't found a wounded human.
They hadn't found prey.
They had found the thing that had been hunting them.
Evan slowly flicked the final drop of blood from Crimson Edge.
Then...
He finally raised his eyes.
At first glance...
He looked like a Skeleton Warrior.
The armour covering his body was made of bones, reinforced by earth and layered with ice.
The faint glow of lightning around him only made his appearance more sinister.
But the Shaman knew better.
That face.
Those eyes.
That blade.
There was no mistake.
It was the human.
The same human who had once fled from them.
Yet the Goblins weren't looking at him anymore.
Their attention had shifted toward the ground.
Toward the corpses scattered around Evan.
The Shaman's eyes narrowed.
Those weren't random Goblins.
They were the scouts.
The very scouts who had been secretly monitoring the human from a distance.
They had been alive only moments ago.
Now...
They were dead.
The Goblins at the front of the army stared at the corpses of their comrades.
Their faces twisted with anger.
Some clenched their weapons.
Others roared.
"You killed them!"
"Human!"
"Kill him!"
The fury of the warriors finally erupted.
One particularly reckless Goblin couldn't contain himself.
With a roar, he charged.
His weapon was raised above his head.
He wanted to be the first to claim the human's head.
But he didn't even make it halfway.
The Shaman suddenly noticed something.
A faint fluctuation of mana.
His eyes snapped toward Evan.
'What is he...'
BOOOOM!
The earth beneath the charging Goblin exploded.
A massive spike erupted from the ground.
CRACK!
It pierced straight through the Goblin's torso.
The force of the attack lifted his entire body into the air.
His feet left the ground.
His weapon slipped from his hands.
The stone spike continued pushing him upward, leaving his body hanging helplessly like a broken puppet.
Blood poured from the wound.
The Goblin struggled.
His hands desperately pushed against the stone.
But there was nothing he could do.
His body slowly stopped moving.
His eyes lost their focus.
Dead.
And the most terrifying part...
Evan hadn't even looked at him.
Not once.
The Shaman's eyes narrowed.
The human had killed one of his warriors without even turning his head.
Evan remained seated upon the fallen tree.
His gaze was still directed toward the Shaman.
Then, finally, he spoke.
"Finally..."
His voice was calm.
"You've taken the bait."
The Shaman's expression changed slightly.
Evan slowly raised his eyes.
"But do you really think you can get my head..."
His lips curled into a faint smile.
"...with such a tiny number of Goblins?"
The Shaman looked around.
There were more than one hundred and fifty warriors surrounding the clearing.
Yet the human called them...
Tiny.
The Shaman's eyes flickered with anger.
Then he smirked.
"Looks like the Thunder Deathpit has driven you insane, human."
His gaze swept over Evan's battered appearance.
"To return from that place and still speak with such arrogance..."
He shook his head.
"Perhaps someone was right."
His fingers tightened around his staff.
"Those who walk too close to death eventually lose their minds."
The Shaman's smirk widened.
"To think you became this boastful after killing a few scouts."
Evan didn't react.
Not even slightly.
His gaze simply moved across the army surrounding him.
Then...
He raised one hand.
The Shaman's expression changed.
Something was happening.
The corpses scattered across the clearing began twitching.
Twitch.
A finger moved.
Then another.
Bones began rattling.
Clack...
Clack...
The dead Goblins slowly began rising.
The surrounding warriors froze.
One corpse pushed itself off the ground.
Then another.
Then another.
Ghostly flames ignited inside empty eye sockets.
A strange green light flickered within their skulls.
Deathly energy spread across the clearing.
The temperature dropped.
The atmosphere became heavy.
Dead Goblins who had been lying motionless only moments ago...
Were now standing again.
As Skeletons.
Several Goblins instinctively stepped backwards.
"What..."
"What are those?"
"They're dead!"
"How are they moving?!"
The Shaman's eyes narrowed.
Then something clicked inside his mind.
The Skeletons.
The human.
The corpses.
The strange confidence.
Everything connected.
"Ah..."
A strange smile appeared on his face.
"So that's where your confidence came from."
He pointed his staff toward the undead.
"Those pathetic walking bones?"
His eyes sharpened.
"You're a Dark Mage."
Evan didn't answer.
He didn't know what the Trial intended to reveal through this battle.
He didn't know what information had been constructed into these Goblins.
And frankly...
He didn't care.
Whatever this place was...
The Trial's details had been surprisingly natural so far.
Evan simply looked at the army before him.
The Shaman laughed.
"So what?"
His voice grew louder.
"Do you truly believe twenty or thirty undead will change your fate?"
He raised his staff.
"We still outnumber you."
The hesitation that had appeared in the Goblins' eyes began to disappear.
The Shaman pointed toward Evan.
"March forward!"
His voice thundered across the clearing.
"Whoever brings me his head will receive a generous reward!"
The Goblins roared.
"For the Tribe!"
"Kill the human!"
"Take his head!"
The army surged forward.
Hundreds of feet thundered against the earth.
Weapons were raised.
The battlefield erupted into motion.
But Evan...
Didn't move.
His expression remained completely calm.
He simply lifted Crimson Edge.
Flames erupted across the blade.
FWOOSH!
Then he swung.
A terrifying wave of flame swept forward.
It struck the ground directly before the charging Goblins.
BOOOOOOM!
A massive semi-wall of fire erupted from the earth.
Flames rose high enough to block their vision completely.
The charging warriors immediately slowed.
Some stumbled.
Others raised their weapons defensively.
The Shaman's eyes narrowed.
"Don't let him escape!"
His voice rang out.
"Push through the flames!"
"Find him!"
"He must still be nearby!"
The Shaman believed he understood Evan's intention.
The human wanted to create a screen.
A chance to retreat.
A chance to disappear into the forest.
But then...
Evan's voice came from the other side.
"Don't bother."
The Shaman's expression changed.
The flames began dying down.
"I told you..."
Evan's silhouette slowly emerged through the fading fire.
"...I'm not running away this time."
The final flames disappeared.
Evan stood exactly where he had been.
He hadn't moved.
The Shaman's eyes widened slightly.
Evan looked directly toward him.
"Didn't I tell you?"
His voice was quiet.
Cold.
"I'll get your head..."
His fingers tightened around Crimson Edge.
"...the next moment we meet."
The Shaman's expression darkened.
But then...
He noticed something behind Evan.
His eyes widened.
The forest was moving.
No.
Not the forest.
The shadows.
A deathly aura suddenly erupted from behind Evan.
It spread through the trees.
Across the ground.
Into every corner of the clearing.
Then...
Crack.
A skeletal hand emerged from the earth.
Another appeared beside it.
Then another.
And another.
Skeletons began crawling out from beneath the trees.
From behind rocks.
From beneath fallen branches.
From the shadows surrounding the Goblin army.
One after another...
They rose.
Clack.
Clack.
Clatter...
Skeleton heads emerged from the ground.
Ghostly flames burned within their empty eye sockets.
Weapons followed.
Bones dragged themselves free.
The sounds of countless skeletal bodies assembling filled the forest.
The Goblins stopped.
Their charge slowed.
Then...
Completely halted.
Because Skeletons weren't appearing from one direction.
They were appearing everywhere.
Around Evan.
Behind him.
To his sides.
Even among the Goblin army.
The forest that had once belonged to the Goblins...
Was now filled with undead.
Deathly energy spread through the clearing.
The atmosphere became suffocating.
Even the Shaman's expression tightened.
Evan slowly raised Crimson Edge.
"My confidence..."
His voice echoed through the battlefield.
"...doesn't come from these."
He glanced toward the Skeletons.
"It comes from my own strength."
Then his eyes returned to the Shaman.
"You showed me how you hunt your prey."
A cold glint appeared within his eyes.
"Now..."
He raised his sword.
"I'll show you how a Necromancer battles."
Silence.
Then...
Clack.
A Skeleton tightened its grip around its weapon.
Clatter.
Another stepped forward.
The entire undead army began moving.
The Goblins became tense.
The Shaman's expression darkened.
Still, he forced confidence into his voice.
"You think an army of bones will save you?"
He raised his staff.
"You're wrong."
"Every warrior of my tribe can defeat dozens of those fools!"
His voice became louder.
"Your tricks won't work against us!"
But even as he spoke...
The Shaman could see it.
The warriors weren't as confident as before.
They were looking at the Skeletons.
There were too many.
Far too many.
Evan noticed their hesitation.
Then he smiled.
"Don't worry."
The entire battlefield seemed to fall quiet.
"I have much more for your warriors to destroy."
The Shaman's eyes narrowed.
Evan spread his arms.
"These..."
He gestured toward the Skeleton army.
"...are only half of what I got."
Silence.
The Goblins stared.
Evan's voice remained perfectly calm.
"I prepared a thousand Skeletons just for you. These are merely five hundred of them."
The words landed like thunder.
Five hundred.
The Goblins froze.
Even the Shaman's expression changed.
Five hundred Skeletons.
Even if each one was individually weak...
Five hundred undead were still five hundred bodies.
Five hundred enemies that didn't feel pain.
Five hundred enemies that didn't fear death.
And Evan wasn't finished.
"The second half..."
His smile widened slightly.
"...will appear too."
The Goblins' faces paled.
Evan pointed toward them.
"So..."
"Just pass through this first."
The battlefield fell into a strange silence.
The Goblins looked at one another.
For a moment...
Even the Shaman couldn't immediately respond.
Then he roared.
"Don't get fooled by his words!"
His staff slammed against the ground.
"He's trying to frighten you!"
"Advance!"
"For the glory of the Tribe!"
The Goblins roared together.
"For the Tribe!"
Their fear was buried beneath anger.
The army began charging once again.
At the same time...
The Shaman began chanting.
Mana gathered around his staff.
The magical energy spiralled around him.
He was preparing his own attack.
Evan watched them approach.
His expression remained unchanged.
He slowly raised Crimson Edge.
The Skeletons behind him stood waiting.
Hundreds of empty eye sockets burned with ghostly flames.
Then Evan pointed his sword toward the incoming army.
His voice was quiet.
But every Skeleton heard it.
"Kill."
That single word...
Was enough.
The undead army moved.
CLATTER!
Bones collided.
Weapons rose.
Skeletons surged forward.
The Goblin warriors roared as they charged from the opposite direction.
The distance between both armies disappeared rapidly.
Two forces.
One made of living warriors.
The other made of the dead.
The forest trembled beneath their advance.
The Shaman's incantation grew louder.
Evan's eyes remained cold.
He stood behind his army.
Watching.
Waiting.
The first clash was only moments away.
And neither side yet knew...
Who would be left standing when the killing finally stopped.