Transmigrated As An SSS Ranked MILF Overlord

The monster's eyes locked onto Steve.

A chill crawled down his spine. His breath hitched, and his knees nearly buckled. He stood there—motionless—caught beneath that gaze, not just from one beast but from all of them. One by one, their heads turned toward him, eyes gleaming with hatred. They knew.

She was here.

Steve's jaw clenched. A low tsk escaped his lips, not out of fear, but fury. Something inside him snapped.

In one smooth motion, his hand shot to his side, fingers wrapping around the hilt of his sword. The metal hissed as it was drawn, and in the next breath, he lunged.

A frenzy overtook him.

With a sharp twist, he flung his dagger—now extended into a gleaming blade—aiming straight for the goblin's throat. The steel whistled through the air, a silver blur. The goblin snarled, raising its jagged axe to block—but Steve was already there, slamming into him with a clash of sparks and steel.

That impact was all he needed.

He pushed off, leaping high into the air. His body twisted mid-flight before crashing into the ground. He rolled once—twice—and came up running.

Without breaking stride, he slid his sword into the slot on his shield. In an instant, it retracted, clicking back into its compact form. But Steve was already gone, dashing between trees, heart pounding, lungs burning.

Behind him, a guttural roar split the silence.

The blackened goblin—their leader—stood tall and furious, its scream shaking the forest. The others rose to join it, weapons gripped tight in clawed hands. Bloodstained blades, rusted cleavers, bone-handled spears—they all gleamed under the pale sky as the pack surged forward like a single, monstrous tide.

The forest trembled.

Their feet pounded the earth with terrifying rhythm. The trees shook. Branches cracked. Birds scattered into the sky as the goblins gave chase, their speed unnatural for creatures of their size.

Steve ran.

He ran as if hell itself clawed at his heels. The pounding of his own feet blurred into the rhythmic thunder of the beasts closing in. His breath came in ragged gasps, his limbs aching—but he didn't dare look back.

He didn't have to.

He could feel them behind him. The weight of their hunger. The heat of their fury.

The chase had begun.

And in that breathless, heart-pounding moment, Steve realized something chilling—

They weren't just fast.

They were faster than him.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit!

Steve's mind screamed in panic as he tore through the underbrush, lungs burning, feet pounding against the uneven forest floor.

Branches whipped across his face. Leaves clawed at his legs. Every frantic step felt like a fight against death itself.

They were right behind him.

He didn't need to turn around to know—they were close. Too close. Their howls filled the night, guttural and primal. He could hear the weight of their footsteps crushing through the earth like thunderclaps. The forest, once quiet and still, had become a violent sea of chaos and pursuit.

Keep running. Don't stop. Don't even think. Just move.

He threw himself forward at full speed, crashing through tangled vines and thick bushes. Thorns scraped his arms, but he barely felt them. Pain didn't matter. Only distance did.

Because if he slowed down for even a second…

He'd die.

Behind him, a loud slash tore through the foliage. Trees snapped like twigs. A blur of motion followed—something fast, something savage.

Then came the roar.

Raw. Ear-splitting. Inhuman.

Steve's blood ran cold. One of them had broken through the trees.

It came charging. A goblin—no, not just any goblin. This one was larger, its skin a deep, sooty black, its eyes glowing yellow with malice. The monster burst through the shadows with terrifying momentum, dragging a massive, rust-caked axe behind it.

Steve stumbled, glanced back—too late.

The goblin raised its axe high and let out a scream that pierced through the night before swinging with brutal force.

WHHHHHRRAAAAAM!

The blade missed by inches, cleaving through the trunk of a tree. Bark exploded into splinters as the tree toppled in a groaning crash. Steve dove, rolling violently to the side as the ground split beside him.

Before he could recover, a second goblin emerged from the darkness.

This one was broader, uglier—wielding a jagged stone bat that looked more like a chunk of rock fused to a stick. It growled low, raising the weapon above its head.

Steve hit the ground, still rolling from his dodge, as the goblin brought the bat down in a furious arc.

BOOOM!

The impact shook the soil. Pebbles leapt from the earth. The blow missed Steve by a hair, but the shockwave sent him tumbling again.

Another roar echoed behind him—and before Steve could even react, a third goblin appeared out of the trees, its clawed hand swinging down in a blur.

CRACK!

The strike connected. A blinding pain shot through Steve's side as the goblin's palm slammed into him like a sledgehammer, sending him flying.

"Agh—!"

He felt his back smash against a tree. The world spun. His breath vanished from his lungs in an instant. Then—he fell. Crashed to the ground. Hard.

Thud.

He hit the dirt on his knees, arms trembling beneath him. Pain flared through his chest and ribs. Blood spilled from his lips, staining the dry earth below.

Gasping, coughing, he struggled to lift his head.

His ears caught the sound first—heavy, stomping footfalls growing louder. Surrounding him.

Dozens. No—hundreds.

One goblin had already reached him, dragging its massive club through the grass. It snarled, yellow eyes gleaming with hunger, and raised the weapon for a killing blow.

Steve's instincts flared.

He threw himself sideways, rolling again—just in time.

The club came down with a roar and obliterated the spot where he'd been. The impact split the soil like a crater, and the force of the strike toppled the thick tree behind him.

An entire tree.

Gone in one swing.

Steve groaned and coughed up more blood, staggering to his feet.

His vision was blurry. His body ached. The pain in his ribs burned with every breath.

He blinked through the haze—

And locked eyes with the goblin.

It stood still now, paused in eerie silence. Watching him. Its head tilted slightly, almost curious. Those monstrous yellow eyes shimmered with something cold. Intent.

Steve's heart raced. He flicked his eyes to the left. Then right.

They were everywhere.

Goblins emerging from the woods like phantoms. Their silhouettes moved through the trees, dozens at first—then more. Scores. Then hundreds. All of them creeping closer in a tightening ring.

He was surrounded.

"No…" Steve whispered under his breath. His voice was hoarse. Weak. Disbelieving.

There was no gap. No opening. No way out.

He could feel their hunger. Their bloodlust. It thickened the air like poison. This wasn't just a pack. This was a warband. An army of beasts.

And he was their prey.

Steve's eyes widened in disbelief as he turned in a slow, shaky circle. Goblins stood shoulder to shoulder, weapons raised, snarling and hissing like demons. Their skin was bruised and blistered, eyes glowing in the dark, teeth dripping with anticipation.

This was a death sentence.

And yet—

He didn't fall.

His arms trembled, but he reached behind his back and pulled free his shield. With a low, rasping breath, he drew the two hilts from his belt. Twin daggers—small, but deadly.

He whispered a command beneath his breath.

"Extend."

The blades responded instantly—growing in length with a metallic shimmer. Their hilts locked into full-size swords, edges gleaming with faint violet light. He gripped them tight, forcing his shoulders to stop trembling.

His legs wanted to buckle.

But he stayed standing.

Blood dripping from his lips. Eyes darting from one snarling goblin to the next.

And then…

The ground began to tremble.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The goblins began to move. As one.

From every side, from every direction. Their weapons raised. Their footsteps pounding like war drums. Their screams blending into a single monstrous chorus.

Steve stood in the center of it all, blades in both hands, bloodied but unbroken.

And as the tide of monsters surged in…

He whispered to himself.

"Not today."

They were everywhere.

Goblins spilled into the clearing like a plague. From behind the trees. Over the rocks. Through the smoke and the fallen trunks. They came in waves, crashing through the forest, ripping down trees with brute force, howling and snarling.

Steve stood at the center of it all—breathing hard, blades drawn, blood staining the corner of his mouth.

They had him surrounded.

Completely.

The forest had become a trap. There were no exits. No narrow paths to slip through. Just walls of snarling teeth, crude weapons, and yellow eyes gleaming with hunger.

His vision flicked from side to side, desperation clawing at his thoughts.

I can't die here. I can't.

But the noose only tightened.

From the crowd came a shift—like a wave parting.

And then it appeared.

The blackened goblin.

It walked slowly, as if it had all the time in the world. Massive, broad-shouldered, its skin cracked like burnt coal. Gold eyes glowed beneath a heavy brow, flickering like caged fire. Each step it took felt final, like thunder made flesh.

Steve couldn't move. His legs screamed at him to run, but there was nowhere to go. Death was walking toward him, and it was wearing a face he didn't have the power to fight.

What do I do?

His chest rose and fell. His heart pounded. His grip on the blades tightened.

The goblins were chanting now. Not with words, but with motion. A ritual. A closing.

And Steve… had nothing left.

Except one thing.

A name.

A bond.

A ghost he had bound long ago.

His lips moved, voice barely above a whisper.

"I summon thee…"

The air tensed.

Something shifted—deep beneath the surface of the world. The goblins hesitated, instinctively sensing the change.

Steve took a trembling breath and spoke again.

Louder this time. Steadier.

"I summon thee… by name and by oath."

Silence fell.

And the forest… held its breath.