The morning sun filtered weakly through the canopy, its golden rays scattering across the dew-soaked clearing. The village stirred with cautious energy. Goblins sharpened crude blades, wolves padded along the palisade with alert eyes, and Mira's flames burned faintly as she barked orders at a group of apprentices attempting to refine fire magic.
Yet despite the activity, unease threaded through the air. The previous night, several scouts had returned with strange reports: *huge shadows moving through the mist, heavier footsteps than wolves, and eyes glowing crimson in the dark.*
Luminus sensed the tension long before a word was spoken. His aura rippled outward, brushing the emotions of his people—their fear, their curiosity, their determination. He slid silently from his hut, silver-blue body glistening, and approached the edge of the settlement.
"Report," he said simply.
A goblin captain stepped forward, his voice trembling despite his salute. "M-my Lord… we believe there are ogres in the forest. At least half a dozen. They are not attacking, but… they are close."
Mira flared, sparks jumping across her palms. "Ogres? Here? We can't let them near the village. They'll crush the goblins before we can react!"
Zerath, the towering orc, rumbled from the shadows. "Or perhaps they are as lost as we once were. Ogres do not wander idly. They are proud. If they are here, it is because they have been driven from somewhere else."
Rugo growled low, his claws scraping the dirt. "Driven or not, they are dangerous."
Luminus regarded them calmly. His voice was steady, carrying no fear. "Dangerous, yes. But so are we. Gather only the most disciplined. I will speak to them myself."
The goblins shifted uneasily, but no one dared to argue.
---
The forest grew thicker as they advanced, the air heavy with the scent of damp earth and moss. Wolves padded silently at Luminus's flanks, their golden eyes gleaming. Mira trailed reluctantly, muttering curses under her breath.
It wasn't long before they found the intruders.
From the mist emerged six figures, towering over the undergrowth. Their skin was a deep crimson hue, horns curved proudly from their brows, and each carried weapons fashioned from iron and bone. They radiated raw, untamed power.
At their head stood a scarred warrior, his chest bare despite the chill, a massive greatsword resting on his shoulder. His eyes locked on Luminus, narrowing.
"A slime?" His voice was deep, rough as stone grinding on stone. "These goblins claim a slime commands them. Is that true?"
The goblin scouts flinched at the insult, but Luminus rippled forward unfazed.
"They do not *serve* me," he corrected softly. "They walk beside me. Together, we are stronger than we were alone."
The ogres shifted uneasily at his calm tone. One, a burly brute with twin clubs, snorted. "Words. Slimes are weak. Goblins are weaker. Wolves are prey. You dare speak of strength?"
Before Mira could snap, Zerath's deep voice cut through the tension. "Strength is not only in muscle. It is in unity."
The scarred leader studied Luminus carefully. His gaze softened ever so slightly. "We… have no unity left. Our village was burned. Human knights of the Church descended upon us—hunters seeking glory. We fought, but we were scattered. Only we remain."
The words hung heavy in the damp air.
Finally, the leader lowered his blade. "Slime. If what you say is true, then show us. Let us stay one night in your village. If your people accept us, we will pledge our strength. If not… we will go."
Luminus pulsed gently, a smile forming in his voice. "So be it."
---
Their arrival was like a storm.
The goblins shrank back, some clutching tools as weapons, others pulling their children close. Whispers rippled: *Ogres… man-eaters… monsters among monsters.*
The wolves prowled restlessly, hackles raised, teeth bared. Mira's flames danced dangerously across her fingers, her eyes never leaving the newcomers.
"You can't just let them walk in!" she snapped at Luminus, fire flaring in her voice. "Do you know what ogres do to goblins? They slaughter them for sport!"
The ogres bristled, hands tightening around their weapons.
But before blood could be shed, Zerath stepped forward, planting his massive axe into the ground. His voice carried like thunder.
"And what of humans? They hunt ogres, goblins, wolves—anything not their own. Should we then condemn Elira as well?"
All eyes turned to Elira, the human adventurer who had fled the Church. She swallowed hard but stood firm. "He's right. Every race here has enemies. If we cling only to the wounds of the past, we'll never survive what's coming."
The goblins quieted. The wolves lowered their hackles. Even Mira, though still fuming, said nothing more.
Luminus turned to the ogres. "No one here asks for blind loyalty. If you wish to stay, prove yourselves—not with strength, but with discipline. Work alongside us. Guard with us. Share with us. If you do that, you will find more than survival. You will find home."
The ogres exchanged uncertain glances… and nodded.
--
The following days were a crucible.
The ogres were set to labor alongside goblins, repairing palisades and lifting beams too heavy for ten goblins to move. At first, the goblins scurried away from them, fearful of being crushed or struck down. But soon, cracks of trust appeared.
One day, a half-built hut began to collapse. Goblin workers screamed as the roof caved—but one ogre, the twin-club brute, stepped forward and caught the beam with a single hand. He held it until the goblins scrambled to safety, then set it gently aside. From that day, the goblins no longer fled at his approach.
Another ogre, a quiet female with piercing eyes, took night patrol willingly. She repaired fence posts silently in the dark, her movements precise, her presence calming even the restless wolves. By dawn, the wolves no longer growled at her scent.
And their scarred leader—though stern—began training the goblins in the basics of swordsmanship. His voice was harsh, his methods grueling, but he taught them discipline. "Swing not with anger. Swing with purpose," he barked. The goblins, though exhausted, began to hold their weapons straighter, their fear replaced with pride.
By the week's end, suspicion had begun to fade. Goblins nodded respectfully at the ogres. Wolves accepted them into patrols. Even Mira, though still distrustful, begrudgingly admitted:
"…Fine. They're not all brutes. But if one of them hurts my people, I'll burn them alive."
Luminus rippled with quiet amusement. *Progress.*
---
Yet not everyone was convinced.
In the council hall, tension burned. Rugo slammed his claw against the table. "They are too strong. If they turn, they will destroy us all."
Mira crossed her arms. "Better to end them now than regret it later."
Zerath frowned. "Strength wasted is strength lost. They have nowhere else. We did not either, once."
Elira added hesitantly, "If they stay, the Church will see us as even greater threats. Ogres are already hunted. Together with goblins and wolves… we'll invite war faster."
Luminus listened patiently, then spoke with calm conviction.
"War is inevitable. The Church will not allow me to live, nor those who follow me. The question is not whether they come, but whether we are prepared. The ogres offer more than muscle. They offer unity. And unity is what will let us survive."
His words silenced the hall. One by one, reluctant nods followed. The vote was decided. The ogres would stay.
---
That night, Luminus summoned the ogres before him. His magic swirled, brighter and heavier than before. The goblins and wolves gathered to watch, murmuring in awe.
"You have chosen to trust me," Luminus said, his voice resonant. "In return, I will give you new strength. I will give you names."
The ogres knelt.
* The scarred leader became **Gorath**. His body glowed with silver light, scars burning as his skin hardened into steel-like resilience.
* The quiet female became **Shira**, wind swirling about her steps, her movements doubling in speed.
* The brute with twin clubs became **Branak**, muscles thickening, his presence steady and kind.
* The others, too, received names—each transformed, their bodies shifting, horns sharpening, their very presence radiating power.
The goblins gasped. Mira's flames flickered in stunned silence. Even Elira whispered, "Incredible…"
For the first time, the newly transformed Kijin bowed deeply.
"Lord Luminus," Gorath rumbled. "Our lives are yours."
---
Peace lasted only moments.
Scouts raced into the clearing, gasping for breath. "Lord Luminus! Human banners… on the horizon. Too many. Too soon."
The air chilled. The Church had found them faster than expected.
And in the shadows of the forest, Selene—the silver-haired saint who had fled from the Church—watched silently. Her hands trembled, not from fear, but from a fragile hope. Perhaps this village, this unity of monsters and outcasts, was the key to changing everything.
For destiny had only begun to weave its threads.
---