The sight that greeted me as I stepped out of the cave filled me with rage.

  Two of the huts were burning near the center of the village, and I could see armored figures locked in combat with my monsters.

  I rushed out, new blade in hand, and moved to aid Elyndra, who was fighting three people by herself: a human warrior, another human—a rogue or thief—and a dwarf casting healing magic to support them.

  A growl ripped from my throat as I crashed into the rogue, knocking him flat. Before he could recover, I slashed his throat, leaving him to bleed out in the dirt.

  Elyndra pressed the attack—her spear skills far outshining the warrior’s swordplay now that it was a proper one-on-one—while I turned on the dwarf.

  All around us, battle filled the air: adventurers shouting words I couldn’t understand while my monsters roared and snarled like their name implied.

  The dwarf wasn’t skilled in melee combat, and the fighter kept trying to break away from Elyndra to help him, but my Coreborn refused to give him the chance.

  Slash. Block. Parry. Dodge. Slash again. Jab.

  The final jab pierced his defense, catching his shoulder between two plates of armor, and his weapon dropped from his grasp.

  Before he recovered, I pulled back, and with a savage roar, brought my sword down on his head.

  There was a sickening squelch, and the dwarf’s eyes rolled back as he collapsed—dead.

  For a heartbeat, the world went quiet—just the crackle of burning huts and the copper taste of blood in the air.

  But there was no time to rest. I turned and joined Elyndra against the warrior. Panic filled his eyes—the odds had turned against him now. I knocked him off balance, and Elyndra’s spear pierced his throat.

  With the skirmish won, Elyndra looked at me—fury blazing in her gaze, with just a hint of worry beneath it.

  “Lord Herald, they attacked just after your new monsters joined us,” she explained, glancing toward the burning village and the chaos beyond. “Lady Analth is helping where she can, but some of your minions have already perished.”

  A cold weight settled in my chest at her words, and Elyndra stepped back as an aura of rage rolled off me.

  “Dead…” I whispered, before looking around.

  Then I saw them.

  A pile of bones lay in a heap by one hut, while Rastan’s body slumped against another.

  And farther in, I saw Sootwing’s motionless form—bolts jutting from his neck and chest—and beside him, the viscous remains of Essi, my poor little slime.

  [Warning! Berserk Mode activating! Warning! Warning!]

  System messages cascaded across my vision, but I ignored them — lost to the rage.

  “Raaaaaghhhh!” The roar that tore from my throat was so inhuman it silenced the battlefield for a heartbeat. Every fighter — adventurer and monster alike — turned to look at me.

  I exploded across the battlefield, eyes burning with fury — twin infernos promising death — as I tore into the nearest enemy.

  The crunch of bone filled my ears as the man crumpled before me. Blood coated my body, my sword, my armor — but I pushed on. The only thought left in my mind was to kill those who had hurt my monsters.

  The world snapped back into motion — the battle erupting around me once more.

  Halvard’s magic tore through the air beside me.

  A human and an elf caught in the blast screamed — then fell silent, their bodies charred and withered.

  Roderik’s arrows sliced through the air in rapid succession, each finding a weak spot — throats, armpits, eye-visors, knees.

  Skreek moved like a whirling dervish of death, his spearwork almost rivaling Elyndra’s.

  Falkar dueled a dwarf and a strange humanoid with leaves sprouting from its skin — cutting the dwarf down before cleaving the leaf-man’s head clean off.

  —But the adventurers weren’t going down easily.

  Bjorrek struggled against three heavily armored warriors, his own armor the only reason he hadn’t fallen yet.

  Tirven, Brindle, and Dominic were being pressed back by a party of five — the human caster keeping Dominic pinned and unable to unleash his full power.

  Torval led the tamed beasts against a cluster of archers, but a lone warrior — moving faster than any of us could track — darted among them, cutting down anything that got too close.

  There had to be nearly two dozen adventurers still alive, every one of them wearing the same tabard: the “M” ringed by a rosary.

  I watched as the quick-footed warrior struck down Skarn, the hawk, and rage boiled up inside me. I charged toward the fight, the ground trembling beneath each step.

  The warrior paused, finally turning toward me—and for the first time, I saw him clearly.

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  He looked human, but wasn’t. His skin was almost translucent, his eyes glowed molten yellow, and his hair shone like sunlight through glass. Chain armor glinted beneath a blue cloak; one hand held a curved scimitar, the other a narrow parrying dagger.

  As I closed the distance, he grinned and shouted something in Keldmerian. My language skill only caught one word.

  “Boring.”

  Boring… He thought my monsters were boring.

  [Skill Level Up! — Language Skill: Keldmerian has reached Level 4!]

  I roared and brought my longsword down in a vicious arc.

  He slipped aside with impossible speed and jabbed forward; I caught the blow on my buckler. Pain shot through my arm as the impact numbed it to the shoulder.

  He wasn’t just fast—he was strong.

  I growled and launched another strike, but again he slipped aside, fluid as water, and I barely twisted away from his counter.

  Torval charged in from the flank, trying to help, but the man pivoted and slashed — opening a deep wound along the beast’s side. The boar roared in pain, collapsing to one knee.

  Rage surged through me. I pressed the attack.

  The ring of steel on steel echoed through the burning village as my sword came down again and again, each blow heavier than the last. I drove him backward, step by step, forcing him on the defensive.

  For a heartbeat, I thought I had him — until his grin widened.

  “That’s more like it!” he shouted.

  The words hit me like a blow. It was the first time I had fully understood a non-monster from this world.

  My shock cost me. The next strike caught me across the ribs, and I howled — blood splattering the ground beneath my feet.

  I staggered back, barely twisting away from the follow-up slash, then lashed out with a kick that caught him off guard and sent him stumbling.

  Grunting, I lunged, driving my blade down — but he rolled aside, the sword biting deep into the dirt instead of flesh.

  “Stand! Still!” I roared.

  For a heartbeat, he froze — his eyes widening in recognition, his shock mirroring my own.

  I swung, blade high.

  He leaned back, but not fast enough — my sword caught him across the face.

  His scream split the air, raw and human, and I pounced.

  We hit the ground hard, my blade clattering away as rage took over.

  Left hook. Right hook. Head slam.

  Gone was the battle of swords — I would kill him with my fists.

  His once-beautiful face turned to a broken, bloodied ruin beneath my blows.

  With a final strike — a sharp crack — I crushed his windpipe.

  He gurgled, choking, clawing uselessly at his throat… then went still, his eyes dimming.

  I rose to my feet, the Berserker rage fading as reality crashed back in. My breaths came ragged, my muscles screamed, and I was soaked in blood from head to toe — mine and theirs.

  The battlefield stretched before me, chaos made flesh.

  Most of the huts were burning now, smoke curling skyward in black plumes, but the tide had turned.

  One of the new summons lay dead near the trenches, and the Duskmaw Boar was gone — a still heap in the mud. But the adventurers were faltering, pulling back in disarray.

  Elyndra, now free, fought alongside Dominic, Tirven, and Brindle, driving back the party of five that had been pressing them. I caught sight of her spearing the enemy mage through the chest, while Dominic crushed a warrior’s skull with a brutal shield bash and downward cut.

  To the east, Halvard and the beasts had torn through the archer line — the air still thick with smoke and ash — while Roderik’s arrows struck down the stragglers trying to regroup.

  Falkar and Skreek fought back-to-back, cutting through groups twice their number, their movements almost synchronized. And Kareth — fast and silent as a shadow — darted in and out of the melee, finishing off anyone who tried to flee.

  I watched for a moment, the thought that we were winning settled like a small warmth in my stomach, even if it came at the cost of friends.

  But I’d mourn them later — mourn them and avenge them.

  The battle seemed to be ending, the adventurers retreating toward the treeline. I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, my heart still hammering in my chest.

  Finally, it was over. There’d be cleanup, rebuilding — gods, I didn’t even know how to repair the huts — but at least the fighting was done.

  Or so I thought.

  The hairs on my arms stood on end, and the sharp scent of ozone hit my nose.

  I barely had time to look up before an armored figure slammed into me, knocking me to the ground — just as a bolt of lightning tore from the trees, striking the spot I’d been standing on.

  The bolt struck the ground where I’d been standing, blasting the soil apart and leaving a smoking crater where earth and roots used to be.

  I was breathing heavily, Analth the armored figure who had just saved my life.

  She stood, looking towards the woods, blade in hand.

  The air sizzled where the bolt had struck, the stench of burnt ozone and scorched earth filling my lungs. My ears rang, vision hazed, and for a second I thought I was back on that crashing plane — then Analth’s voice dragged me back to the present.

  “I told you I’d fight if your life was in danger, Herald,” She sounded… scary, monstrous. “And your life is now in danger. He’s here.”

  From the woods came the sound of armored boots marching towards us.

  Heavy, each footfall sending a jolt of… fear through me.

  Fear?

  I hadn’t really been afraid since waking up in this world, and yet now… now it was like the cold claw of fear had sunk into my stomach and wouldn’t let go.

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  From the woods he came, clad in silver with dark hair, and a neatly trimmed beard.

  The man I had seen before.

  The one who had killed three Thornprowlers like they were nothing.

  His sword still crackled with residual static, and he looked at me with something that looked between bored and fervent hatred.

  The first thing I noticed was the sound — each step of his armor rang like distant thunder. Lightning crawled across his gauntlets and along the edge of his blade, tracing glowing veins through the metal.

  When his gaze met mine, it was like staring into the heart of a storm.

  “Sir Josef Paasche,” Analth called out in the language of humans. The man paused, looking momentarily surprised, before schooling his face back into stoicism.

  He said something back, something I couldn’t understand, but something that made Analth growl.

  “He’s here for you, Herald,” She whispered as I stood up. “Here to eliminate a future threat.”

  Great.

  Of course he was here for me.

  My hands shook as I stared him down.

  Fear. Cold, alien, unwelcome. It slithered up my spine and settled behind my ribs — a reminder that no matter how strong I’d become, I was still human once.

  And now, facing him, I wasn’t sure if this was a fight I could win.

  [Current Day: 6]

  [Soul Essence: 1635]

  [Kingdom Core: Level 2]

  [Domain Size: 2 Sectors]

  [Active Quest: The First Challenge (3 Days Remain)]