Hey guys, I’m back!!!

First off, I want to apologize for disappearing without notice, lol. There were a few things I had to deal with—like writer’s block and, oh yeah, my wedding... Yup, folks, I got married!!! Hehehe.

Now that I’m back, I’ll do my best to update at least three Chapters per week and finish the second volume of TROC. Your support means the world to me, and I truly hope you’ll stick with me on this journey.

Thank you so much, everyone! Love, love, love! ❤️

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(Leon’s POV)

"Move! Move! Move! They’re coming!!" shouted their squad captain, a Gold Hobgoblin, his panicked voice slicing through the forest’s eerie silence.

The roars and thundering footsteps accompanied his command, reverberating among the trees that bore scars from past battles.

Leon swiftly sheathed his sword and ran, trailing at the back of his squad. There was no time to think about fighting back, let alone sacrificing himself for his comrades.

On the battlefield, there was no room for heroes. He didn’t need to be the fastest—he just had to be faster than the other hobgoblins. That was all it took to survive.

Demons were efficient and brutal creatures. They wouldn’t waste a single morsel, even if it meant tearing each other apart for a share of the spoils. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

Once one hobgoblin was caught, the demons would rip the victim’s body apart, sharing its flesh in a savage feast. And when that happened, the rest might have a slim chance to escape, putting more distance between themselves and the horrors chasing them.

But Leon knew this nightmare was far from over. Once the demons behind them were exterminated by the asuras, their squad would be sent back to the front lines, herding another horde of demons into carefully prepared traps.

That was their fate. This squad was nothing more than bait—hobgoblins too weak to serve as shields, let alone as warriors.

On the battlefield, they were burdens to the asuras, who had to hold back to avoid injuring the hobgoblins around them.

What irony. Goblins risked everything, fighting tooth and nail to evolve into hobgoblins, only to end up as disposable bait.

"Rawr!"

The deafening roar sent chills down Leon’s spine. He knew that sound all too well—an Imp, a Level 2 Mana Core Demon.

To the asuras, such a creature was nothing more than a minor nuisance, easily obliterated with a single Brajamusti strike. But for a hobgoblin like Leon, an Imp was a living nightmare.

Its razor-sharp claws could tear through the flesh of even a gold-tier hobgoblin, and its Curse Spell made victims feel as though they were being burned alive.

Leon felt the hot breath of the Imp closing in behind him. Without hesitation, he grabbed the arm of the hobgoblin running ahead of him.

"AH!"

The hobgoblin’s eyes were wide with shock. Leon knew him—he was the one who had first greeted Leon when he joined this squad. But a friend? No. He was just a squadmate, nothing more.

Leon shoved down the guilt creeping into his heart. Yet, the piercing scream behind him, followed by the sickening sound of flesh being torn apart, shook his resolve.

He clenched his teeth and quickened his pace, burying the regret clawing its way to the surface.

He had to survive.

No matter what it took, he had to survive.

He had to endure and grow stronger.

With that resolve, Leon forced himself to block out the screams of his squadmate being torn apart by the demon horde behind him. He ran. He kept running. But the closer he got to their destination, the more the weight of weakness crept into his body, gnawing away at every inch of his courage.

He was weak. So very weak.

One sacrifice had been enough to widen the gap between them and the demon horde, but only temporarily. The demons were far faster than the hobgoblins, and their hunger would not be sated with just one victim.

If the gap wasn’t widened again soon, another hobgoblin would have to be sacrificed. And Leon knew—he could be next. That fear gripped his heart, amplifying the bitter truth of his frailty.

Sure enough, the growls and pounding footsteps began closing in again with terrifying speed. The horde of demons seemed intoxicated with wild adrenaline, their insatiable hunger driving them to greater ferocity after tasting the blood of their first victim.

"Huff... huff... huff..." Leon’s breath came in ragged gasps. His legs grew heavier, his knees trembled, but he forced his body to keep running.

It wasn’t the sound of the demons closing in behind him that made his heart pound furiously—it was the sight of the other hobgoblins ahead of him, pulling farther and farther away.

They were leaving him behind.

Leon bit his lip hard. He knew—he was the next sacrifice.

He wanted to scream, to beg for help. But the words stuck in his throat. He knew it would be useless. No one would stop for him. If anything, they might run even faster if they heard his cries. And if Leon were in their position, he would do the same.

Was this the end?

"Rawr!!"

The growl drew closer. The hot breath of the pursuing demon was already on his neck. There were no other hobgoblins ahead of him to serve as bait. This time, he was truly alone.

Dad...

The image of his goblin father flashed in his mind, dragging him into a whirlpool of dark memories.

Leon could still see his father’s rigid body, eyes wide open in regret, lying lifeless in the evolution jar. For an entire week, Leon had waited with hope and pride, certain his father would successfully evolve into a hobgoblin.

But when that week ended, all he found was a cold, lifeless corpse. The fiery hope in his chest was replaced by confusion and disbelief.

That feeling returned when he discovered his mother—not as a goblin anymore, but as a hobgoblin, pregnant with an asura’s child. Her swollen belly, her broad smile, and the glow of happiness on her face had been a harsh slap to Leon.

She had left without a word, abandoning Leon to survive on his own.

And now, as the pounding footsteps of the demons grew closer, those memories swirled in his mind. He didn’t want to die here. He had to survive. He had to find a way out, no matter what it took.

But the chill crawling up his back told him the truth: time was running out, and death had already extended its claws toward him.

And in that moment, something inside Leon seemed to snap. He stopped running.

Blood dripped from his lips, torn from biting down hard on his tongue. His eyes, red and brimming with tears, bulged as though they could no longer contain the weight of his anguish.

He turned around, facing the approaching death with a gaze devoid of fear.

With trembling yet resolute hands, Leon drew his sword and raised his shield. Standing before him was a hellhound, a Level 1 Mana Core demon in the form of a wolf, its maw exhaling searing heat capable of melting steel with a single bite.

While it lacked a Curse Spell, its terrifying speed made it a lethal predator. This hellhound was the first to catch up to him.

Leon knew that even if he managed to kill this one, dozens more were right behind it, accompanied by the bloodthirsty swarm of Imps. Still, he grinned. If he had to die, he would die with dignity—not in the despair of regret. He would take one or two demons with him into the abyss of death.

He would prove that hobgoblins weren’t just bait. They could fight too.

The hellhound lunged with terrifying speed, its jaws wide open, hot vapor billowing from its throat. Leon barely had time to raise his shield before the massive beast crashed into him.

The impact made his arm feel like it was splintering. Though his body was weaker than the demon’s, his evolution into a Silver Tier Hobgoblin had granted him enough resilience to survive—at least for now.

Leon roared, forcing himself to hold the shield with every ounce of strength he had. With one final push, he managed to shove the hellhound backward. But before he could catch his breath, a searing heat grazed his neck.

Without a second thought, he dropped to the ground. Just then, the hellhound’s snapping jaws closed with a sharp crack where his neck had been. The attack was so close that the blood already streaming from Leon’s face began to flow faster, but he had no time to care.

The hellhound recovered quickly, lunging at him again without pause. Leon lifted his shield with both hands, but this time, his sword slipped from his grasp and fell to the ground.

BAM!

The brutal impact nearly sent him flying as the demon’s attack smashed into his shield. Leon felt the air forcibly knocked from his lungs. The beast’s growls sounded like grinding stone, accompanied by the stifling heat that radiated against his shield. The acrid stench of burning flesh invaded his nostrils, sickening and overwhelming.

But the hellhound didn’t stop. Leon’s shield began to melt at the edges, the heat emanating from the demon’s maw eating away at his last line of defense.

"AAAARRGGHHH!!!"

His scream echoed through the forest. The agony of his arm burning alive shattered his focus. Tears streaming from his eyes evaporated instantly in the heat scorching his face, leaving his vision raw and stinging.

Before him, the hellhound prepared for a final attack. Its fiery breath roared like the wind from hell itself, and Leon knew he was staring death in the face—right before his eyes.

"Brajamusti!"

In a flash, the attack shot forward like an arrow piercing the air, striking the hellhound’s skull with extraordinary force. Like a hot knife slicing through butter, the demon’s head shattered effortlessly. The hellhound’s lifeless body collapsed onto Leon, pinning him to the ground.

Leon gasped, his breath coming in ragged bursts. Panicked, he shoved the dead hellhound’s body off himself and turned to see what had just happened.

His eyes met a pair of blue ones. Eyes he knew all too well—eyes that mirrored his own. Those piercing blue eyes stared back at him with a cold, empty gaze, devoid of emotion, as if looking at something worthless.

Leon bit his lip, swallowing the hatred that burned within him.

If there was one thing he despised most about himself, it was his eyes. Those blue eyes were undeniable proof of his shameful origins, a constant reminder of the woman who had so easily abandoned his father after his death, only to marry an asura shortly thereafter.

His blue eyes were the mark of a wound that had never healed. And now, the same blue eyes stared at him from the face of his asura half-brother—Bahma.

Leon clenched his jaw, his teeth grinding as hatred coursed through him, drowning out any gratitude he might have felt for Bahma’s intervention. To Leon, this wasn’t salvation—it was humiliation.

"BAHMA! I DON’T NEED YOUR HELP!" Leon shouted, his voice hoarse and raw, as though his throat were on fire.

But Bahma didn’t respond. He stood tall, gazing ahead with the same cold expression, as if answering Leon’s outburst was beneath him.

"YOU—"

"Brajadenta!"

Leon’s furious yell was cut off by another booming incantation. In an instant, dozens of Kala heads—deadly manifestations of the Brajadenta spell—hurtled toward the approaching swarm of demons. Explosions erupted in rapid succession, obliterating the remaining demons.

Before Leon could fully comprehend what was happening, a sharp pain seared through his neck. His vision went dark. The last thing he felt was his body being lifted, followed by the suffocating heat of the Brajadenta spell enveloping him.

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