NOVEL NEXT Chapter 94: "I'll take it!"
In an unknown land beneath a gloomy sky, the heavy clouds churned like bruises smeared across the heavens. Lightning occasionally flickered behind them—silent, for now—casting momentary silhouettes of twisted trees and jagged hills below.
High above this brooding landscape, a shadow cut through the sky.
A massive black dragon flew with powerful, unrelenting beats of its wings. Its scales shimmered with an obsidian sheen, absorbing the faint light rather than reflecting it, and every movement of its sinewy body seemed both elegant and terrifying. Wind rushed around it in chaotic gusts, scattering clouds and trailing mist in its wake.
Seated on its back was a young man—his black hair whipping wildly behind him, his long coat fluttering with the fierce wind. His face was chiseled and calm, the sort of calm that didn't come from peace, but from focus sharpened over fire. His eyes, dark and penetrating, scanned the ground with quiet intensity.
He looked utterly unmoved by the roaring winds or the jarring speed at which they flew. He simply sat, one hand resting on a scaled ridge of the dragon's back, his gaze locked on the ground far below.
It was Ethan.
And the dragon he rode was Kaeryx.
He had chosen this method for one reason—efficiency.
From the sky, he could spot the goblin packs with ease. No ambushes. No wasting time crawling through the dungeon tunnels or getting confused of which direction to go with the multitude of noise the goblins where making in all dorectioj. No watching his "teammates" pretend they didn't care that he was outpacing them.
While at this height, his Mana Sense couldn't spread as wide as he wanted it to, he was still okay, his eyesight and other senses like hearing were extremely good. His thoughts were sharp. His intent—clear.
He was going to end this dungeon in record time.
The goblins couldn't even dream of fighting something that flew. Let alone one that hunted from above like a silent reaper.
Kaeryx let out a low rumble beneath him—a soft, guttural growl that vibrated through Ethan's spine. The bond between them was unspoken, forged through something older than contracts or beast-taming pacts. They understood each other.
Ethan's eyes narrowed.
There.
Amidst the forested valley ahead, his senses spiked.
He felt it—like a ripple in a still pond.
Mana. Life signatures.
Dozens of them.
A pack at least four times larger than any he'd encountered so far. This wasn't a wandering band of goblin scouts. No. These were war-ready.
Goblins of varying sizes and strength. Brutes. Spear-throwers. Shaman-types cloaked in rags stained with dried blood. And in the center of them… something else. Bigger. Meaner. Its presence distorted the ambient mana like a heatwave over fire.
A Goblin Warlord.
Ethan's brows furrowed slightly.
Interesting.
Kaeryx sensed it too. The dragon tilted his head slightly, angling into a slow descent. The wind roared louder as they dropped elevation in a steep glide, branches below swaying in their wake.
Ethan didn't speak. He simply raised a hand and pointed toward the clearing where the goblin forces milled about unaware. The dragon's eyes gleamed—a pulse of silent acknowledgement.
He stood up slowly on Kaeryx's back, the wind lashing at his coat as he looked down at the clustered enemy below.
They had no idea.
No warning.
No chance.
"Let's thin them out."
His voice was low, barely audible beneath the wind, but Kaeryx heard it. A sudden beat of the dragon's wings surged them forward like a bolt of black lightning. Ethan crouched slightly, shifting his balance as the air pressure thickened.
Mana surged.
Kaeryx opened his maw—mana gathering in his throat like molten gold.
And then—
Flames erupted.
A stream of searing black fire tore through the sky and down onto the goblin horde like a meteor from the gods.
Screams erupted below.
Chaos. Panic. Heat.
Ethan dropped from Kaeryx's back mid-breath, freefalling like a shadow with no sound. His body spun once in the air, then he landed effortlessly on the charred earth, knees bending slightly, a faint shockwave cracking the dirt beneath him.
Smoke curled around his boots.
A goblin lunged at him from the side, weapon raised.
He didn't even glance at it.
A flash of mana. One swift motion.
Headless.
Another turned to run. Ethan moved.
He didn't blink. He didn't hesitate.
He ended.
From above, Kaeryx circled, releasing another stream of fire into the tree line, keeping the outer goblins trapped in a ring of heat and ash. None could escape. None would warn others.
This wasn't a raid.
It was a massacre.
And in the middle of it stood Ethan, his expression unchanged, his breathing calm.
One by one, the goblins fell. Not because they were weak. Not because they were unprepared. But because they never stood a chance.
Ethan moved like a shadow cast by lightning—silent, precise, and utterly unstoppable, his mana boots boosting his speed. Every strike was deliberate, every motion fluid and efficient. His gauntlet-crushed fists broke bone. His blade sliced with cold indifference. Blood sprayed across the burnt, ashen ground, the scent of charred flesh mingling with iron and smoke.
A shriek echoed as a goblin brute tried to charge him from behind, its crude axe raised high. Ethan twisted mid-dodge, catching the arm mid-swing with one hand. The strength behind the strike was decent—but to Ethan, it may as well have been a breeze. With a casual yank, he dislocated the goblin's shoulder, slammed it face-first into the ground, and stomped down. The crunch echoed.
[+10 Fatebreaking Points]
Another goblin tried to leap at him from the treeline, hoping to catch him while distracted.
Ethan didn't even look.
A flick of his wrist—whoosh—a mana-imbued dagger shot from his sleeve and embedded cleanly between the goblin's eyes mid-air. It dropped like a ragdoll.
[+5 Fatebreaking Points]
But Ethan didn't pause to check the total. He could feel the numbers rising. His instincts told him his points were surging again, but right now, he had no time to indulge the system.
His boots slid across the dirt as he pivoted, weaving through goblin formations with a predator's grace. His body spun, twisted, ducked. Arcs of blood followed every motion like red brushstrokes across a black canvas.
They were supposed to be an organized force. A warband. Yet in front of him, they were nothing but meat in a grinder.
And then... it ended.
Silence returned to the forest clearing—broken only by the low crackling of dying fire and the distant beat of Kaeryx's wings circling above.
Ethan exhaled slowly, flicking gore off his blade.
But just as he turned—
A presence.
He felt it before he saw it.
Heavy. Proud. Enraged.
From the edge of the smoldering treeline, something stepped forth.
Broad, armored in stitched plates of bone and steel. Standing nearly two meters tall, with tribal tattoos carved into its skin with fire. Yellow eyes gleamed with primal hate as it gripped a jagged black blade in one hand, its other clutching a wooden war horn.
A Goblin General.
Its aura crackled faintly with mana. Not much. But more than the average fodder.
It let out a guttural roar and charged.
Ethan grinned faintly.
He could've summoned Kaeryx. One breath from the dragon and this fight would be over before it even began.
But... where was the fun in that?
He planted his feet, raising one hand, beckoning.
Come.
The Goblin General lunged—blade descending in a brutal arc.
Ethan slid under the strike, his palm crackling faintly with mana as he drove it upward into the creature's exposed ribs. Ribs snapped, and the general staggered back, coughing blood. But it didn't fall.
It snarled, launching a wide sweep with its sword.
Ethan dodged again, barely a blur. He jumped into the air, flipped behind the general, and drove both heels into its spine with explosive force. The goblin stumbled forward, trying to recover, but Ethan was already on it.
His hand latched onto the back of its neck.
CRACK.
He drove the goblin's face into the dirt, slammed it again, then rose, spinning once—his blade trailing a faint glow—and sliced clean through the back of its neck.
The body slumped forward. Motionless.
A notification blinked into his mind's eye.
[You've killed a Goblin General]
[Kill all seven generals and the king in this dungeon to get the title: Goblin Slayer]
[Goblin Generals Killed: 1/7]
[Goblin King: Yet to be killed]
Ethan blinked once at the messages, brows lifting slightly.
'Nice,' he thought, cracking his neck. 'Even without the mission, I was going to do it anyway.'
He wasn't one to chase titles—but now that it was on the table? He couldn't help the small surge of excitement in his chest.
Goblin Slayer, huh?
He already had Draconic Overlord, one of the most broken titles in the system. But if stacking more could push his limits even further...
He clenched his fist, feeling a faint burn of power ripple through his veins.
"I'll take it."