Chapter: Witness To Real Strength

“Retreat!” a desperate voice rang out through the chaos.

Squad leader Howard wiped the sweat from his brow as he shouted to his men. “Garcia! Miller! Help Anderson get Johnson out of here, now!”

Bullets cracked through the air, each one aimed with precision at the goblins that swarmed like a tide. Howard’s years of fighting allowed him to land headshot after headshot, but it was like trying to drain the ocean with a bucket. For every goblin that fell, another took its place.

“Damn it,” Howard muttered under his breath, his grip on his rifle tightening. His eyes flicked to the towering monster leading the charge—a hulking, seven-foot goblin wielding a massive mace. Its muscles bulged, and its roars fueled the goblins’ frenzy.

“If only that thing hadn’t shown up,” Howard growled.

His team was in shambles. Johnson wasn’t breathing, Anderson was barely conscious, and the goblins were closing in. Howard’s men were seasoned specialblack ops soldiers, but against these creatures, they were outmatched.

“Firebolt!” Howard bellowed, thrusting his palmforward. A small, fiery orb erupted from his hand, streaking toward the goblins. The flames exploded on impact, scattering the lesser creatures andsending a few flying.

But it wasn’t enough.

The hulking goblin emerged from the smoke,unscathed, its mace dragging against the ground. Its yellow eyes locked onto Howard, filled with anger and bloodlust.

Howard stumbled back, his breathing ragged. “Damn it… this isn’t working,” he muttered, firing another round of bullets. The goblin didn’t even flinch as the rounds ricocheted off its thick hide.

The Squad leader’s heart pounded in his chest. This was it. This was how it ended.

But then, an arrow whistled through the air, piercing the goblin’s eye. The creature roared in pain, turning its head toward the source.

Howard’s eyes darted to the treeline, where three figures emerged from the shadows. Leading them was a young man with dark brown hair, wielding a sword and shield that gleamed in the dark. Beside him was a young woman with reddish-brown hair holding a bow, and a black young man clutching a dented baseball bat.

“Who the hell are they?” Howard muttered, his voice a mix of shock and confusion.

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The young woman and her companion rushed toward the injured soldiers, helping them retreat. But the young man—he was different. There was a sign of bloodlust in his eyes, a presence Howard hadn’t felt before.

“Blue Lightning!” the young man shouted.

A crackling surge of electricity erupted from his hand, arcing toward the goblin. The bolt struck the creature square in the chest, forcing it back a few steps. The air smelled burned, and the ground beneath the goblin’s feet were scorched.

The young man charged, his sword flashing as he swung with brute force. The goblin roared, swinging its mace in a wide arc. The sheer force of the blow sent shockwaves through the air, but the young man ducked and rolled, his movements swift and deliberate.

Howard watched in awe—and fear.

“Who is this kid?” he whispered.

Damian’s sword clashed against the goblin’s mace, sparks flying as the weapons collided. Each swing of the goblin’s weapon was heavy and deliberate, aiming to crush him. But Damian’s agility allowed him to weave through the attacks, striking when openings appeared.

“Blue Lightning!” he shouted again, another crackling bolt surging from his hand. It struck the goblin’s leg, forcing it to kneel.

Damian seized the opportunity, driving his sword into the creature’s thigh. The goblin howled, swinging its arm wildly and grazing Damian’s side. The force of the hit sent Damian stumbling, blood seeping through his shirt.

“Not yet,” Damian growled, clutching his wound. He placed his hand over the injury and whispered, “Heal.”

A faint glow emanated from his palm as the wound closed slightly, enough to stop the bleeding but not enough to fully recover.

The goblin charged, its mace raised high. Damian barely had time to block the strike with his shield, the impact sending shockwaves up his arm. His knees buckled under the force, and he was thrown backward into a tree.

The bark splintered on impact as Damian hit the trunk with a sickening thud. He coughed violently, blood splattering the ground. His vision blurred, but he forced himself to his feet, using his sword for support.

“Is that all you’ve got?” he spat, his voice defiant despite the pain.

The goblin roared, closing the distance with frightening speed. Damian’s grip on his sword tightened, his mind racing. His mana was runninglow, his body was battered, but he couldn’t stop now.

He reached into his pouch, pulling out the small red vial he’d found earlier. “Let’s see if this works,” he muttered, uncorking the bottle.

Howard’s Perspective

From his position, Squad leader Howard watched the fight unfold, his heart pounding. He had seen bravery before—had even fought beside men who gave their lives to protect others—but this was something else.

This young man was fighting a monster that had nearly wiped out his entire team, and he was doing it alone.

“That kid… he’s insane,” Howard muttered, clutching his rifle.

But there was something else—he was inflicting actual damage compared to him who had been a rifle using up until and even had used magic he had awakened with.

“Come on, kid,” Howard whispered, his fists clenched. “Don’t give up now.”

The goblin roared, its mace coming down with earth-shattering force. Damian sidestepped at the last second, thrusting his sword upward and slicing through the goblin’s arm. The creature howled, staggering back as dark blood poured from the wound.

Damian panted, his vision swimming. “Just a little more,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

With the vial in hand, he stared down the goblin