A wave of heat and energy surged through Ren's tiny body—a sensation he hadn't felt in a long time, but recognized instantly.
The rush of a level-up.
The pain in his muscles vanished. Exhaustion burned away like mist. Fresh strength flooded his limbs.
His status window flickered.
[Name: N/A]
[Race: Goblin Scout]
[Level: 2]
[HP: 17/17]
[MP: 8/8]
[Attributes]
Strength: 3
Agility: 5
Intelligence: 2 (Anomaly Detected: 13)
Endurance: 2
The gains were tiny. Pathetic by any player's standard. Just one point per stat.
But for Ren?
It was night and day.
He felt… less fragile.
More endurance meant he could work longer. More strength made his spear feel lighter. This wasn't theoretical power.
It was real.
Earned through dirt, fear, and raw worm flesh.
He picked up his [Goblin Spear (Quality: Terrible)]. The weight felt right now. Manageable. He tested a few thrusts in the air—more controlled than before.
It was a horrible weapon.
But it was his.
For the first time since his rebirth, a sense of control settled in his chest.
He looked around his alcove—the mud barricade, the faint gleam of the Dragon-Slaying Arrow, the soft pulsing glow of his worm pantry.
A filthy hole.
But his.
Then he heard it.
Scratching. Against stone. From the tunnel he came through.
The old fear surged—
—and something new crushed it.
Territory.
This was his home.
His food.
This time, he didn't retreat.
He positioned himself behind the mud barricade, leaving only the narrow gap—a funnel.
He gripped the spear with both hands. Stone tip aimed into the dark.
He crouched low. Small target. Coiled muscle.
Ready.
A shape emerged.
A Dungeon Rat. Probably a straggler from the group he'd dealt with at the bridge.
It paused. Sniffing. Red eyes adjusting.
It smelled the worms.
It smelled him.
The rat let out a low, hungry squeal—
—and charged.
Straight for the gap.
Exactly as predicted.
The tight space slowed it for a fraction of a second.
Enough.
The moment its head pushed through—
Ren struck.
No hesitation.
Zephyr screamed "thrust—weak point!"
The goblin body obeyed.
He drove the spear forward with everything he had.
[-4 HP]
The stone tip slammed into the rat's shoulder. Not lethal—but solid.
The creature shrieked, recoiling—
then lunged again.
Ignoring the spear still lodged in its flesh.
It snapped at Ren's leg.
Ren jumped back.
Barely.
The teeth clamped on air.
He yanked the spear free. A wet, sickening sound as stone tore from meat.
[Spear Durability: 4/5]
The rat was inside now.
Too close.
Too fast.
But Ren had reach.
He kept the spear between them. Used the shaft to control space. Quick jabs whenever it overextended.
[-1 HP] (Ren—clawed)
[-3 HP] (Rat)
[-3 HP] (Rat)
The alcove became chaos.
Squeals. Blood. Stone striking bone.
Ugly. Clumsy. Brutal.
No skill. No elegance.
Just two bottom-tier creatures refusing to be eaten.
Then—
The rat snapped.
Wounded. Frenzied.
It lunged in one final, desperate attack.
Ren planted his feet.
Leveled the spear—
—and drove forward like a legionnaire.
The point punched into its chest.
A sick crack.
The rat impaled itself on the weapon. Claws twitching inches from his face.
The red light in its eyes flickered.
Died.
[You killed a Dungeon Rat!]
[+2 EXP]
Silence.
Ren stood there, breathing hard. Blood and fur thick in the air.
The corpse hung on his spear.
He shook it off.
It hit the ground with a dull thud.
He did it.
No running.
No tricks.
He fought.
He defended his territory.
And he won.
He looked at the body.
No disgust.
Only a dark satisfaction.
Food.
Resources.
Hide. Bones.
Zephyr's mind was already calculating the loot value.
He sat down, body aching, but victorious.
He looked at his home.
Mud barricade.
Worm pantry.
Bloodied spear.
Rat carcass at his feet.
And the silent glow of a god's arrow embedded in the wall.
This was his kingdom.
A kingdom of mud and hunger.
And he—
was its king.
As his breathing slowed, another sound reached him.
From deep within the tunnels.
Far beyond his territory.
Not the scrape of a centipede.
Not the squeal of rats.
Something else.
A pattern.
Clicks. Whistles. Guttural sounds.
Not random.
Not monsters.
Language.
Ren's body tensed.
He knew that sound.
He had heard it on the first day.
But this was different.
More organized.
More… intentional.
Goblins.
Other goblins.
And they were getting closer.