All around Rain, unnatural screams poured from the goblins’ mouths, echoing through the fortress as chaos spread in every direction. Some goblins ran in blind panic, scrambling toward the entrance in a desperate attempt to escape, while others were too dumb to even move, standing frozen in confusion as if their minds couldn’t process what was happening.

  A few of them finally snapped out of it and reached for their weapons, frantically looking around for enemies that didn’t seem to exist.

  Behind Rain and Light, the fortress walls ignited faster and faster, the flames crawling along the wood at an almost terrifying pace.

  “W-what should we do?!” Light yelled, his voice sharp and aggressive. He wasn’t worried about being heard—his words were instantly swallowed by the screams of the goblins and the crackling roar of the fire.

  Rain scanned the area, his heart pounding violently in his chest. If they weren’t fast, the entire fortress would be reduced to ash in less than ten minutes.

  In front of them stood the goblins guarding the prisoners.

  Five guards.

  At first, it had looked like there were at least eight, but the other three must have fled when the fire started.

  These goblins were different.

  The normal ones had a certain look to them—an unmistakable dullness, a lack of intelligence that showed in every movement. But these guards didn’t panic. Instead of running, they held their ground, grouping together in front of the cages.

  They positioned themselves around the women.

  They didn’t care about the men at all.

  Rain grabbed his head, staring at the goblins as his thoughts spiraled.

  Fuck… fuck, fuck.

  The words screamed inside his mind, but he swallowed them back when he glanced at Light.

  Light looked terrified.

  But it wasn’t just fear.

  His eyes weren’t darting around wildly, nor were they glued to the floor. His posture didn’t collapse. Instead, his gaze was fixed on Rain—steady, expectant—like he was waiting for something.

  Waiting for Rain to say it.

  I have a plan.

  That was exactly why Rain didn’t want to scream that he had no idea what to do.

  He didn’t want to be seen as a terrible leader, even though he never wanted to be one in the first place.

  Rain let out a slow sigh and looked back at Light’s tense, almost pitiful expression.

  “Alright,” Rain said quietly. “I have a plan.”

  He knew it was a terrible one. But it was the only thing he had.

  “What level are you?” Rain asked.

  Light’s expression twisted into confusion. “Why the hell does that matter right now?” he snapped, his voice sharp with stress.

  “Look around us!” Light shouted. “In a few minutes, the prisoners—and maybe us—are going to burn to death!”

  Rain exhaled again, forcing his voice to stay calm. “Just tell me.”

  Light clearly wanted to argue, but as the fire continued to spread at an alarming rate and more goblin screams erupted near the entrance, he had no choice but to comply.

  Light opened his status screen. His eyes widened slightly in shock, but he closed them just as quickly, realizing there was nothing to be happy about given the situation.

  Stolen story; please report.

  “I—” Light stuttered.

  “I’m level four.”

  Rain let out a long breath, this one different from his usual sighs—heavy with relief.

  “So you’ve got two stat points available, right?” Rain asked.

  “Yeah?” Light replied cautiously.

  “Put them into strength,” Rain said firmly.

  Normally, Light would have argued.

  But as he thought back, remembering the sensation of placing just a single stat point into strength—the way his entire body had felt refreshed, lighter, stronger—his hesitation faded. If one point had felt like that… what would two feel like?

  Seconds passed, and Light’s entire demeanor shifted.

  The tired, worn-down teenager who looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders slowly disappeared, replaced by something else. Something lighter. Happier. It almost looked like he wanted to straighten his back and grin, maybe even flex his muscles or jump around like he had before.

  But even if the urge was there, the gravity of the situation held him in place. His excitement didn’t vanish—it transformed, turning into something steadier.

  Hope.

  “What now?” Light asked, his voice noticeably more confident than before.

  “Hm…” Rain muttered, trying to think of a response that didn’t sound completely insane.

  He failed.

  Rain raised his hand and pointed directly at the goblins standing in front of the cages.

  “We have to kill them,” he said, pausing briefly. “The guards. That’s the only way.”

  The confidence on Light’s face dimmed as Rain’s words sank in.

  His reaction made sense. Up until now, most of Rain’s plans had been dangerous—but not like this. They hadn’t involved direct confrontation on this scale.

  Sure, they had killed a few goblins together at the beginning, but those had been weak. Easy.

  Even when they hunted goblins inside the huts, it hadn’t felt especially risky. The enemies were isolated, unprepared, and just as easy to put down.

  But the goblins standing in front of them now were different.

  At first glance, their height, bodies, and faces were no different from the others. That wasn’t what set them apart. It was their posture—the way they stood their ground without hesitation, like experienced fighters facing amateurs.

  And then there was their equipment.

  Every goblin Rain had fought before had either worn nothing at all or some poorly made leather shirt, likely stitched together from animal hides. Their gear had always looked crude and unreliable.

  These goblins wore armor.

  Iron armor.

  Two of them even had heavy helmets protecting their heads.

  Their weapons were just as intimidating. Two of the goblins carried massive, burly cleavers. One gripped a large battle axe, its blade thick and brutal. The remaining two wielded long swords that looked well-balanced and deadly.

  These weren’t wooden bats.

  These were real weapons.

  Rain didn’t want to dwell on the situation.

  Even though Light’s confidence was wavering—and even though Rain himself wasn’t exactly confident either—he stepped out from their hiding spot alongside Light and spoke before hesitation could take root.

  “You’re a higher level,” Rain said quickly. “So you take the three goblins guarding the left and middle cages.”

  “Wha—”

  “WHAT?” Light shouted, his voice cracking as Rain immediately broke into a run toward the five goblins.

  After a few seconds of panicked thought, Light clenched his teeth and sprinted toward the left side of the cages.

  There were three cages in total—left, middle, and right. Rain headed for the right.

  Inside the left cage were three women, all of them visibly shaken. The middle cage also held three women, though one of them looked either dead or completely unconscious. On the right side, there were two women huddled together.

  Two guards stood watch over the left cage. One guarded the middle. The remaining two stood near the right cage—directly in Rain’s path.

  Each cage was spaced at least ten feet apart. Behind them, fifteen men lay strapped across rough wooden boards. Most of them were clearly dead, though a few might still have been alive. The thought of helping them crossed Rain’s mind, but he immediately dismissed it.

  It would take too long.

  When he glanced back, the fire had spread even further. Time was slipping away.

  Rain stopped roughly ten feet from the two guards. Both goblins shifted into fighting stances, yet neither rushed him. Instead, they remained planted, eyes locked on him with hostility.

  It became clear why.

  The goblins weren’t guarding the cages out of duty—they were territorial. The women behind them weren’t prisoners in their eyes. They were trophies.

  The two guards wielded different weapons. One carried a massive iron cleaver, so large it made Rain’s own iron sword look almost childish by comparison. The other held a sword similar to Rain’s, though thicker and slightly shorter, built more for power than reach.

  Both goblins wore iron chest plates. Both had helmets.

  Rain hadn’t sent Light to fight the three goblins because Light was the better fighter.

  In truth, even though Light was stronger and higher level, these two goblins were far more dangerous than the other three. Their armor alone made them a bigger threat.

  As the sounds of fighting began behind him, Rain slowly inched forward. The closer he got, the more the goblins’ expressions twisted with anger. It was a familiar look—like approaching a wild animal in the middle of feeding, when it thinks you’re about to steal its meal.

  The sight was intimidating. Almost terrifying.

  But Rain didn’t waver.

  He didn’t turn back.

  Drawing his iron sword, he settled into his stance. Despite never having leveled up—despite having killed countless goblins already—the blade felt lighter in his hands. Comfortable.

  As if his body had already learned how to wield it.