A wave of relief settled over Rain as he watched the goblins from afar, still hidden behind the bush, because knowing they showed no hostility toward him allowed the tension in his body to slowly loosen.

  His heartbeat, which had been pounding heavily in his chest, gradually began to steady.

  But the moment his eyes shifted to the timer, that fragile calm shattered, and his pulse spiked all over again.

  Fifteen minutes remained, and not a single person had emerged from the forest to help him deal with the remaining goblins.

  Neither Light, nor Roxy, nor even the many other groups had appeared.

  What could they possibly be doing? Rain wondered, though he forced himself to dismiss the thought almost immediately, knowing that dwelling on it would accomplish nothing and would only waste what little time he had left.

  Twenty-two goblins were still alive.

  It had taken him at least three full minutes to kill just two goblins, and he had already spent another two minutes crouched behind this bush doing nothing but watching and thinking.

  The truth was becoming impossible to ignore.

  Rain wasn’t managing his time well.

  If he hadn’t hesitated—if he hadn’t allowed sympathy to interfere—he could have killed them far more efficiently.

  It made no logical sense for him to take several minutes to kill creatures that hadn’t even attempted to fight back.

  A quiet frustration settled inside him as he came to a firm conclusion.

  He would not hesitate again, and he would not waste time hiding.

  Sympathy was weakness, and weakness in this situation would not only cost him—it could cost everyone else as well.

  If he intended to eliminate all twenty-two remaining goblins within fifteen minutes, then there was only one viable option.

  He would have to attack relentlessly, without pause and without doubt.

  Rain swallowed the excess saliva pooling in his mouth and wiped his dirty face with the back of his sleeve, smearing together sweat, dirt, and dried blood without caring how he looked.

  Then he rose from behind the bush and ran straight toward a nearby cluster of goblins—three of them standing close together.

  He didn’t waste time deciding which group to target first, nor did he question whether he should eliminate the unarmed ones before the others.

  He didn’t have the luxury of overthinking.

  Right now, all he could do was move.

  As he closed the distance, he drove his sword forward without slowing, thrusting the blade deep into the back of the nearest goblin and piercing straight through its heart.

  The creature collapsed almost instantly.

  Rain exhaled sharply as he yanked the blade free and turned toward the second goblin, tightening his grip as he met the same pitiful, hollow expression that the others had worn.

  He refused to hesitate this time.

  With a powerful downward motion, he brought the sword crashing into the goblin’s neck.

  The blade cut deep, and the goblin fell sideways, clutching at the wound in confusion rather than rage, its tear-filled eyes showing no anger—only disbelief.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  Rain didn’t allow himself to look at it for long.

  The third goblin stood frozen.

  Rain stepped in and slashed across its torso in one heavy swing, carving through flesh and fat and tearing open its stomach without fully splitting it apart.

  Blood poured out rapidly—far more than the others—as its thick body collapsed under its own weight.

  Rain immediately turned away and squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to stare at the spreading pool beneath him, knowing that lingering on the sight—or worse, the scent—would only tempt the hunger stirring inside him.

  A heavy thud echoed behind him as the final goblin hit the ground.

  The smell of blood thickened in the air.

  Rain didn’t retreat this time.

  Instead of retreating to hide behind a bush again, Rain forced himself forward and sprinted toward another cluster of goblins.

  From that point on, the fighting became almost mechanical.

  He moved from group to group, cutting them down in a rhythm that felt cold and repetitive, barely allowing himself time to think between strikes. Each cluster he targeted wore the same hollow expression — a heavy sadness pooled in their eyes as though they were waiting for the inevitable.

  Rain swallowed every trace of sympathy that tried to rise inside him.

  All he knew was that they needed to die, and they needed to die quickly.

  Before he even realized it, nine more goblins had fallen within five minutes.

  With ten full minutes still remaining, relief began to replace his earlier panic. At this rate, killing the remaining thirteen would not be impossible.

  He convinced himself of something then.

  These goblins wanted to die.

  Rain slowed for a moment and scanned his surroundings, and that was when he noticed one goblin sitting near the bodies he had just created.

  Unlike the others who had stood frozen in place, this one had moved. It had wandered toward the corpses instead of waiting where it stood.

  Recognition flickered in Rain’s mind.

  This was one of the fortress guards — the one who had fled earlier. That explained it. There had been six guards originally, yet only five had remained with the prisoners. This one had escaped.

  The goblin wore torso armor like the others, but its neck was exposed.

  A clean cut waiting to happen.

  It held a longsword loosely in its right hand.

  Rain approached carefully, noticing that the goblin was staring down at the blood-soaked ground.

  He couldn’t see its face.

  Did it come here on purpose?

  There was something different about this one. A sharper awareness.

  To walk toward him instead of away… that required thought.

  Rain stepped within striking distance and raised his sword with both hands, aiming for the goblin’s exposed neck just as he had done so many times before.

  He inhaled deeply.

  And swung.

  *SCHLICK*

  “—Hm?”

  Something felt wrong.

  The air around him suddenly felt cold and heavy, pressing down on his chest. The strength in his limbs drained in an instant, replaced by weakness so sudden it stole his breath.

  Nausea surged violently through his body.

  A freezing sweat covered his skin.

  Rain’s eyes lowered slowly.

  A sword was buried in his stomach.

  For a moment, his mind refused to understand what he was seeing.

  I… got stabbed?

  He tried to speak, but no words came. Even thinking felt distant and fragmented.

  When he forced his gaze upward, he saw the goblin standing over him.

  Its face was nothing like the others.

  There was no sadness.

  Only pain. Regret. And burning anger.

  The goblin clenched its jaw and deliberately pulled the blade out of Rain’s stomach in slow, dragging motion.

  The pain exploded.

  Rain let out broken sobs as blood poured from the wound, his hands instinctively clamping over it as he tried to apply pressure despite how weak he felt.

  Unexpectedly, the goblin stepped back.

  Then it turned and walked away.

  Is it… leaving me to bleed out?

  Rain lay there, cursing under his breath, regret flooding his thoughts as heavily as the blood soaking into the dirt beneath him.

  Above him, the night sky looked eerily similar to the one from his old world — dark, endless, scattered with stars.

  Why had he hesitated?

  Why had he allowed himself to feel sympathy?

  His fingers dug into the soil as he clenched his jaw against the pain.

  Two minutes passed.

  Two minutes felt like hours.

  Then suddenly—

  Sounds erupted around him.

  Shouting. Steel clashing. Footsteps pounding against earth.

  Rain forced his head to turn.

  Shapes moved in the darkness — people.

  The survivors who had split into groups earlier were now charging into battle, surrounding the remaining goblins and cutting them down.

  Some goblins fought back fiercely.

  Others stood and accepted death.

  Several people had already engaged the armored goblin who had stabbed him.

  Rain let his head fall back toward the sky.

  Even if they won… he wouldn’t survive long enough to see it.

  A weak breath escaped him.

  Then he smelled it.

  Blood.

  Not his.

  Goblin blood.

  Strong. Thick. Close.

  The scent cut through the pain like a blade, overwhelming everything else.

  Rain turned his head again and saw it — a large pool of blood beside one of the goblins he had killed earlier.

  His mouth filled with saliva.

  Not from fear.

  From hunger.

  Somehow, even in this state, he could distinguish the scent of his own blood from theirs.

  The goblin’s blood called to him.

  The pain in his stomach dulled beneath the pull of it.

  With what little strength he had left, Rain twisted his body toward the corpse, dragging himself inch by inch across the dirt.

  When he reached it, he opened his mouth.

  And sank his teeth into the goblin’s neck.