The hero, Asael, and the Saintess, Anne, continued to stay in the village for more days.

Asael had followed village chief words and continued to use the potion to keep his eye color hidden.

He was also curious about the mountain and that monster.

But before he could decide to go there, a sound of bell crossed his ears.

And the village air grew thick with tension.

The rhythmic clang of the warning bell echoed through the air, its sharp sound cutting through the peaceful evening like a blade.

Villagers rushed about in a panic, grabbing whatever they could to defend themselves.

The once serene village was now alive with urgency.

Asael's grip on his sword tightened.

He turned to a nearby villager. "What’s happening?"

"It seems like monsters are about to invade," the man said, his voice laced with anxiety.

Asael exhaled sharply.

It wasn’t unexpected.

Monsters attacking humans was a simple, cruel reality.

Even if that mysterious mountain monster had kept them at bay until now, it was only a matter of time before they found another path.

Just then, the village chief arrived, his voice steady despite the chaos.

"Okay, everyone, no need to panic. Goblins are coming, so we must prepare!"

A murmur of concern spread through the crowd, but the chief’s calm demeanor kept them grounded.

"A group will stay behind to protect the women, elderly, and children," he continued.

"The rest of us will form a defense at the village gate. We must hold them off!"

Asael stepped forward without hesitation. "Can I participate?"

The chief met his gaze and nodded. "Of course. More warriors will increase our chances."

With that, the village moved swiftly into action.

Most of the villagers had no proper weapons or armor.

Some held rusty swords passed down from ancestors, while others gripped farming tools—hoes, pitchforks, and sickles.

Their faces were hardened with determination, but fear lingered in their eyes.

They weren’t soldiers.

They were farmers, fathers, and sons, forced to fight for their lives.

Asael took his place among the dozen or so men standing at the village gate.

The chief remained behind them, giving instructions, his voice steady despite the weight of the situation.

Then, the goblins arrived.

Twenty of them, their green, twisted forms emerging from the tree line.

Their guttural growls and cruel, jagged weapons gleamed in the fading sunlight.

But one among them stood out.

A goblin shaman.

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It wore ragged robes, its skeletal frame adorned with crude jewelry made from bones.

In its hands was a wooden staff, crackling with ominous energy.

Asael’s expression darkened.

A shaman was trouble.

It could cast spells to strengthen its allies and weaken its enemies.

If left unchecked, this fight would become much harder.

He turned to the villagers.

"Everyone, focus on the goblins! I’ll quickly take down the shaman!"

A murmur of agreement passed through the group, though their hands trembled on their makeshift weapons.

Asael exhaled, gripping his sword.

The weight in his hands was familiar—reassuring.

Without hesitation, Asael charged forward, his sword gleaming under the dim light of the battlefield.

His boots pounded against the dirt, kicking up dust as he rushed toward the goblin shaman.

"Kree… attack!" the shaman screeched, raising his gnarled staff high.

The goblins snarled and rushed at Asael, their crude weapons glinting wickedly.

The first goblin lunged at him, its jagged dagger aiming for his throat.

But Asael twisted his body with practiced ease, dodging the strike.

Without losing momentum, he surged forward.

The second goblin, stationed in front of him, barely had time to react before Asael’s blade sliced cleanly through its chest.

A spray of dark green blood splattered across the battlefield as the creature let out a guttural gasp before collapsing.

The third goblin came at him from the side, a rusted axe swinging wildly toward Asael’s ribs.

With lightning-fast reflexes, he caught the goblin by the head.

The creature flailed, clawing at his wrist, but Asael slammed its skull into the ground with a sickening crunch.

The goblin let out a shrill cry of pain, but Asael didn’t stop.

He raised its head again and smashed it down a second time—this time, green blood splattered across the dirt as the creature’s body twitched violently before going limp.

A shadow loomed behind him.

Without looking, Asael swung his sword backward, the blade whistling through the air before cutting through flesh and bone.

The first goblin, the one that had missed its initial attack, barely had time to react before its head was sent rolling across the battlefield.

In mere moments, three goblins lay dead at his feet.

The battlefield froze.

Both goblins and humans alike halted their fights, their eyes locked onto Asael in stunned silence.

The sheer brutality and efficiency of his movements sent a shiver of fear through the goblin ranks.

Even the goblin shaman’s beady eyes widened in shock.

"Human… strong," the creature rasped.

But Asael had no time for hesitation.

His golden eyes locked onto the shaman, his grip on his sword tightening.

He moved forward without a moment's pause, determined to cut the creature down before it could cast whatever foul magic it was preparing.

The goblin shaman snapped back to attention, realizing the threat closing in.

"Everyone! Charge at him! Kreeee!" the creature screeched.

At the same time, it raised its staff and began chanting in a guttural, ancient tongue.

Asael knew he had to stop it before the spell was complete.

Two more goblins jumped in his path, blocking his advance.

The first swung a jagged club at his head, but Asael ducked, his sword flashing as he severed the goblin’s arm.

The creature howled in agony, but Asael didn’t give it the chance to recover—he drove his blade deep into its gut before yanking it free, sending its body crumpling to the dirt.

The second goblin snarled and thrust a spear toward his chest.

Asael sidestepped at the last second, grabbing the spear shaft and twisting it from the goblin’s grip before driving his knee into its face.

The impact sent the creature sprawling, and before it could scramble to its feet, Asael stomped down on its throat with a sickening crunch.

He turned back toward the shaman—

"Too late… kree.."

The goblin shaman grinned, its incantation complete.

A pulse of dark energy erupted from its staff, washing over the battlefield like a crimson tide.

The remaining goblins shuddered violently, their bodies convulsing as the red aura engulfed them.

Their muscles bulged, veins darkening, and their eyes glowed with eerie malice.

Their snarls turned into deafening roars as their bodies pulsed with unnatural strength.

The goblin shaman cackled. "Now… attack!"

The crazed goblins let out an ear-piercing war cry and rushed at Asael like rabid beasts, their movements erratic and frenzied.

Asael exhaled sharply, gripping his sword tighter.

His golden eyes flickered in the dim torchlight, scanning the battlefield.

Fifteen goblins remained, but now, under the shaman’s spell, they were different—faster, stronger, and far more aggressive.

The humans, only twelve in number, were struggling.

Their swords clashed desperately against the frenzied goblins, but for each enemy they cut down, another took its place.

Five of the enhanced goblins surrounded Asael, their bodies twitching unnaturally as they circled him like predators waiting for an opening.

Their bloodshot eyes gleamed with malice, their sharp claws twitching in anticipation.

One goblin lunged, its dagger slicing through the air.

Asael twisted his body, narrowly avoiding the strike.

He countered immediately, swinging his sword in a deadly arc—but the goblin, moving with unnatural speed, barely dodged the attack.

Another goblin rushed in from his blind spot.

Asael turned to strike, but before his blade could land, a third goblin slammed into his side with full force, knocking him off balance.

He stumbled, his boots scraping against the bloodstained dirt.

They weren’t trying to kill him.

They were keeping him occupied.

A fourth goblin slashed at his thigh.

Asael barely blocked the attack, his sword locking against the goblin’s rusted blade.

But then the fifth goblin seized the opening, leaping onto his back, clawed hands grabbing at his shoulders.

Pain flared as its nails dug into his flesh.

Asael gritted his teeth.

With a fierce growl, he spun violently, slamming his back against a nearby tree.

The impact sent the goblin on his back howling in pain, its grip loosening just enough for Asael to grab it by the arm and hurl it over his shoulder.

It crashed into the ground with a sickening crack.

He wasted no time.

The first goblin that had dodged his sword earlier lunged again.

Asael met it halfway, his blade flashing downward. The goblin tried to dodge—too slow.

Steel sliced through its collarbone, cutting deep into its chest.

Green blood sprayed across Asael’s face, but he didn’t flinch.

The second goblin, the one that had pushed him earlier, let out a shriek and charged.

Asael grabbed the dying goblin and shoved it forward, using its body as a shield.

The charging goblin hesitated for a split second—just long enough for Asael to stab his sword through both of them.

A wet, gurgling sound escaped their lips as they collapsed together.

Three down.

The fourth goblin rushed in from behind, trying to take advantage of Asael’s momentary distraction.

He sensed it.

Without turning, he kicked backward with full force.

His boot connected with the goblin’s chest, sending it flying into the air.

It tumbled across the battlefield, crashing into another goblin.

Asael turned back just in time to see the fifth goblin scrambling to its feet, snarling.

It tried to retreat, but Asael was faster.

He dashed forward and brought his sword down in a clean, merciless strike.

Its head rolled onto the ground before the body even fell.

He exhaled heavily, his chest rising and falling as he looked at the bodies around him.

Five goblins, gone.

But as he turned his gaze back to the battlefield, his expression darkened.

While he had been occupied, the remaining goblins had turned their attention to the other humans.

And the shaman…

The goblin shaman stood further back, its hands raised as it finished another dark incantation.

A sickly, red mist spread across the battlefield, and the remaining goblins roared in frenzy.

The humans were overwhelmed by the change.

And the fight was far from over.