The Devouring Knight

The first round ended without a clear victor, both panting lightly but far from exhausted. Skitz rolled his shoulders, a sly grin tugging at his lips.

"Alright, no more playing," the goblin said, flipping his daggers in a fluid motion before letting the faint shimmer of mana ripple over his form.

A whisper of air, and he was gone.

Eldric blinked. "Vanished…?!"

The dirt where Skitz had stood was empty. Shadows seemed to ripple unnaturally, the sunlit ground shimmering as if bending light itself.

A faint crunch of gravel behind Lumberling. He pivoted instantly, spear thrust snapping forward, but struck only empty air. A flicker to the left, Skitz's blade flashed toward his neck.

Clang!

The spear shaft twisted in a sudden, almost impossible parry, deflecting the strike an inch from his skin. Lumberling slid back, sweeping his weapon low in a circular arc, creating a zone Skitz couldn't easily breach.

"Still fast," Lumberling muttered, eyes sharp.

Skitz's voice came from somewhere above him. "And still alive."

The goblin dropped from a tree branch, daggers descending like fangs. Lumberling stabbed upward, not at Skitz's chest, but at a patch of empty air beside him. The goblin twisted midair to dodge, and landed directly into Lumberling's waiting kick.

Thud!

Skitz rolled back, teeth bared in exhilaration. "You… tricked me."

From that point, their movements blurred, Skitz's form flickering in and out of sight, using bursts of speed and deceptive footwork, while Lumberling's spear sweeping, thrusting, and twisting unpredictably, feinting with deliberate openings to bait attacks.

By the time the sun was leaning west, the dirt between them was carved with gouges, their shadows long and ragged.

Both halted at the same time. Skitz spun a dagger back into its sheath and let out a huff. "I'm done. Any more and I'll start bleeding for real."

Lumberling grinned, his breathing steady but deep. "Good fight."

As Skitz stepped away, Lumberling straightened, spear tip lowering to the ground. His muscles hummed, not from exhaustion, but from the rush of growth.

A warmth surged from deep in his core, flooding into his limbs. His heartbeat slowed, every breath tasting richer, sharper. The world seemed clearer, every detail crisp under the orange glow of the afternoon sun.

(Beginner Spearheart Doctrine has reached Level 10. Power +515)

(Beginner Sprint has become Level 2. Power +120)

Lumberling's grin widened into something wilder.

He let the sensation wash over him, savoring the way the strength settled into his bones like molten steel cooling into shape. Just one more step, and he would reach the stage of True Knight.

….

Two weeks later…

The goblin village was busy preparing, pushing themselves to grow stronger before joining the war.

One calm morning, the soldiers and captains gathered around Krivex, who sat cross-legged with his eyes closed, focusing deeply. He was practicing the Concordant Cycl. Lumberling stood nearby with Skitz, Uncle Drake, Orrin, and Eldric, all watching closely.

Eldric shook his head with a dry laugh. "Still can't believe I'm seeing monsters practicing magic. Maybe the world really is ending."

A hush fell over the crowd as Krivex's breathing slowed, his body still. Then, slowly, subtle ripples of energy began to pulse from him. The air seemed to thicken.

Lumberling's eyes narrowed, studying every movement. This was the moment, if Krivex succeeded, he would be the first to reach the Concordant state. And Lumberling knew he would have to reach it himself someday to wield true magic.

Suddenly, a soft glow began to surround Krivex. His aura flared, shifting between colors as the ripples of energy grew stronger, spreading outward like waves.

This was the Concordant Cycle, the state where one could harmonize and control both mana and their own unique energy without harming their body. For Krivex, it meant his monstrous energy and mana flowed freely together, balanced and steady.

With a sharp, clear breath, Krivex's eyes snapped open. The chaotic energy settled into a calm, powerful radiance, a sign that his body had accepted this new harmony.

The crowd erupted in cheers, captains exchanging proud smiles while Gobo1 nudged Gobo2 and joked, "I think the gods just bent the rules for him." Even the usual banter couldn't hide their respect.

Eldric's eyes widened, his excitement threatening to break through his usually measured composure. 'By the gods…' he thought, struggling to steady his breath. The energy coursing through Krivex's wasn't chaotic as it should have been, it flowed with his mana in perfect harmony, two rivers merging into one seamless current.

'This… this means he could wield the blade like a Knight, yet unleash spells like a mage at the same time.' The realization struck him like a hammer, sending a thrill and a chill racing down his spine. Never before had he witnessed anything like this.

Lumberling stood quietly, a subtle pride and awe in his gaze as he observed his third-in-command.

But just as the crowd began to relax, thinking the moment was complete, a sudden tension gripped the air. Without warning, a surge of energy burst from Krivex, stronger and charged with something new and fierce.

The cheers faltered, replaced by stunned silence. Everyone could feel it…

He was evolving.

Skitz's grin turned wild. "That bastard… he wasn't satisfied with just the Concordant state."

…..

Deep inside his mind, Krivex's gaze burned with silent resolve, thoughts churned like molten steel.

'As third in command... I can't be left behind. Not now, when the drums of war are about to sound.'

They would march soon, into blood and fire, for their Lord. To fight at his side, to shield him from every threat, to carve down every enemy that dared stand in his path. That was his duty. That was his will.

'And if I'm to stand there, I need to be stronger... I will be stronger. '

A low rumble built in the air, the ground trembling faintly beneath his boots.

Then…

Boom.

The aura erupted from him like a storm breaking its chains. Dust swirled in violent eddies, whipping at the watching goblins and kobolds. The air grew thick with pressure, heavy enough to make lesser warriors grit their teeth.

Before their eyes, Krivex's frame seemed to swell, not merely in size, but in presence. His green skin darkened, muscles carving into sharper lines like forged iron, his frame slimming into the lithe, flexible build of an archer. The wild glow in his eyes shifted, no longer just the hunger of a warrior, but the commanding blaze of a warlord reborn.

When the light and dust settled, he was no longer the same being who had stood there moments ago.

Krivex, a Hobgoblin Warlord, had evolved, ascended into a Hobgoblin Warmarch, a stage equal to a Quasi-Knight.