Chapter 90: The Forest Stirs, and Shadows Rise

[14th Everdusk 2103], CGA Branch, Dyna Crest Country

The moment Lyre stepped out of the dungeon, her eyes immediately scanned the massive ranking board set up just beyond the stone gate. She expected to see her name at the top.

But it wasn’t.

Instead, the first name carved into that glowing list belonged to someone else—Lucas.

"...He actually beat me?" she muttered in disbelief.

Lucas had finished just a little ahead of her, and at Level 14—only one level above her. But the difference in time was enough to tilt the ranks in his favor.

Clicking her tongue, she looked down the board again, tracing familiar names in both the team and solo categories. That’s when her gaze landed on the one that made her pause—

Rank 8: Evan Windstone

.

He was still active. Still fighting. And still solo.

"A Necromancer, clearing the third stage alone?" she whispered, narrowing her eyes.

It didn’t add up. Necromancer-type classes were rarely solo material in the early stages. Most needed tanks or front-liners to survive long enough to raise their armies. Evan’s class was just <D> rank—nothing that screamed prodigy.

And yet here he was, clearing solo and closing in on the top ranks.

"First Lucas with an <E> rank class... now him. I’ll need to ask the Guild to dig into both of their backgrounds," she said quietly.

After bidding farewell to the Principal and the instructors, she left with her guards. Her next destination wasn’t a classroom, but her father’s estate outside the city.

—

Lucas, meanwhile, lingered just long enough to glance at the board one final time. When his eyes found Evan’s name sitting in eighth, a smirk formed across his lips.

"Hah... you’re something else, kid. Either you’re hiding a second class or you're one hell of a sleeper," he whispered, intrigued.

After informing Tess he was heading home, Lucas quietly left the Association building, hailed a taxi, and vanished into the city’s late-afternoon traffic.

—

Inside the dungeon, Evan stepped through the portal and into the third stage.

It was another forest—dense and quiet, a blend of the first and second stages.

"Looks like the trees aren’t done with me yet," I muttered to myself.

If goblins were part of this zone, then their village or outpost had to be near the center. First, I had to confirm my status—Rule #2 of dungeon survival. Rule #1? Never trust anyone. Not even yourself.

I walked in the opposite direction of the portal—it never dropped you directly in the heart of danger, which was oddly comforting. Or maybe not. It meant the danger was somewhere close by.

I was on alert.

And then I heard it—shuffling leaves, guttural grunts, the sound of weapons brushing against undergrowth.

I ducked behind a thick tree trunk and waited.

The goblins appeared moments later. Three of them. Short, dwarf-like figures with green skin and jagged teeth. Two wielded crude clubs, but the third—a little broader in the shoulders—had a rusted sword gripped tightly in his hand.

They hadn't seen me yet.

"Maybe it’s time to try that new trick," I whispered.

I reached for my blade, steadying the semi-evolved weapon now humming with faint dark energy. My armor shifted around me like smoke.

Time to move.

<Shadow Leap> ← -25 MP

One blink, and I was gone.

To the goblins, it must have looked like a shadow materialized out of thin air in front of them. Their eyes widened—but too late.

My blade tore clean through the sword-wielder, slicing him vertically with a single strike. He didn’t even get to scream.

The others panicked.

One tried to flee. I snatched the rusted sword from the fallen corpse and hurled it like a javelin. It pierced the goblin’s spine, pinning him to the dirt with a strangled screech.

The last one stood frozen, paralyzed by fear.

Bad move.

I took one step forward—and his head followed his body to the ground.

"Too noisy," I muttered. "This’ll bring more of them."

I knelt quickly over the bodies and activated my talent.

<Plunder>

Dark tendrils of energy curled out from my hand and spread over the corpses.

[Detected: 3~Lv.9–10 Goblins. What do you wish to do? Plunder, Dismantle, or Store?]

[No talent, ability, bloodline, or skills detected. Stats identified.]

[You've gained +2 VIT, +1 END, +1 INT.]

"Not bad," I said, glancing at the glowing numbers on my screen.

But then I heard them.

Footsteps. Fast ones. Lots of them.

I darted away from the scene, vanishing between the trees. I only stopped once I was far enough not to be caught by scent or noise. Behind me, I could hear goblins shouting in their crude tongue.

A group had found the corpses—and they weren’t happy.

Hidden in the foliage, I watched as one of the larger goblins—a sword user—barked orders. Others began scattering to search the forest.

They were hunting me.

The kill notifications finally popped up.

{You've slain 2~Lv.9, 1~Lv.10 Goblins. You’ve gained 130 EXP.} [330/450]

[You've gained 29 Evo-enchant points. T.P: 365]

The boost made me grin.

But it didn’t last long.

More footsteps. Even closer this time.

I scanned the area—thin trees, open visibility. Nowhere to hide. Blood on my armor. The wind was against me. They’d find me.

I could feel it.

"...Why am I hesitating?" I muttered. "I’m stronger now. Way stronger. I’ve plundered more stats than these goblins could dream of."

But the answer was already in my chest:

fear

.

Not of the goblins.

But of dying.

It was the one thing that hadn’t left me since the beginning—this clinging anxiety, this whisper in the back of my skull that no matter how much I grew, death would come for me anyway.

Even the memories from my past life—after I’d awakened in this body—were fragmented and dim. Only "Blue Star" remained clear. The name. The family I had once belonged to.

The rest... fog.

And then, I heard them.

A new group of goblins broke through the treeline.

I exhaled and tightened my grip on my blade.

If death was coming... I’d greet it with a sword through its face.

Let the battle begin.

To be continued...