Shuya woke before the others.
The goblin nest was quieter than it had any right to be. Not peaceful—goblins didn't understand the concept—but subdued. Their guttural croaks and chittering barks were distant, muffled, as though the creatures themselves sensed something was wrong with the air.
Or with him.
Shuya sat on a broken stone slab, absently rotating his wrist. The movements were slow, deliberate, graceful—leftovers from a life he thought was gone forever. His body still wasn't what it had once been, but the way he carried himself had changed. Even in stillness, he looked ready. Centered.
Dangerous.
Seren, rubbing sleep from her eyes, noticed immediately.
"…You're glowing," she muttered.
Shuya blinked. "Am I?"
"It's not literal. More like… you feel taller."
"I'm sitting."
"That doesn't help, actually."
Ronan laughed softly. "Relax, girl. That's the smell of confidence."
Confidence wasn't something Shuya had worn in years. But the goblins he'd fought yesterday—the shock on their faces as they died to their own blows—had awakened something he thought he'd lost.
Not bloodlust.Not cruelty.
Presence.
He wasn't strong because he was beating them.They were weak because they dared to stand before him.
Something deep in his chest throbbed with quiet, radiant heat.
Not fire.Not magic.
Something like the sun, rising carefully after a long winter.
He exhaled.The air around him felt subtly charged.
Seren shivered. "Okay… seriously. What happened to you?"
Shuya stood, lifting his spear. "I realized something."
"What?"
"That it's rude," he said, dusting off his sleeves, "to lower yourself to the level of your opponent."
Ronan's grin widened. "Now that's the spirit."
The Stirring Darkness
The deeper they went into the goblin nest, the stranger things became.
Shuya expected more goblins—waves of them, angry and disorganized. Instead, he saw scattered corpses. Some sliced cleanly in half. Others frozen mid-expression, mouths wide and eyes bulging.
Seren knelt, inspecting a body. "These wounds… the goblins didn't do this. This was surgical."
"Bandits?" Ronan guessed.
Shuya shook his head. "Too clean. Too purposeful."
And then he felt it.
A tremor in the air.Not physical—spiritual.
A presence far more refined than any goblin's crude malice. Something deliberate. Intelligent. Ancient.
"You feel that?" he murmured.
Ronan placed a hand on his sword. "Aye. Something's watching us."
It wasn't hiding.It simply didn't care if it was seen.
That alone made Shuya's calm, steady heartbeat grow colder.
Only someone very strong—or very arrogant—would walk openly into a goblin den and kill its residents with such ease.
Seren whispered, "Should we retreat?"
"No," Shuya said calmly. "Whatever it is, it already knows we're here."
He walked forward. Not rushed. Not reckless. Just deliberate.
And the further he went, the greater the presence became—like gravity thickening around his shoulders. Seren could barely breathe. Ronan swore under his breath.
Shuya?He straightened.
Because for the first time in this life, someone's aura didn't just exist—
—it pushed back.
His own stirred in response.
Warm.Calm.Steady.
The rising sun meeting a dark, stormy horizon.
The tunnel widened into an abandoned goblin chamber. Broken crates. Crude weapons. Makeshift fire pits.
And at the center stood a girl.
Or something shaped like one.
Long black hair fell over her face, too silky, too perfect. Her skin was pale porcelain, unmarred. Her white kimono did not have a single speck of grime despite the cave's filth.
She wasn't human.She wasn't pretending well enough.
When her head tilted up, her eyes glowed red with slit pupils.
A Yokai.
A strong one.
Seren gasped. "What is a yokai doing here?!"
The girl smiled—wide, sharp, too many teeth. "Studying."
Her voice was melodious, like bells dipped in blood.
Ronan unsheathed his blade. "What does a yokai need goblins for?"
"They are loud," she hummed. "I dislike loud things. Now they are quiet."
Shuya's brow furrowed. "You killed them because they annoyed you?"
"Mm. And because they were weak."
She stepped forward. The air tightened like a rope around their throats.
Ronan's face went pale. Seren stumbled.
Only Shuya remained standing tall, shoulders relaxed.
She noticed.
"Oh?" Her grin grew. "Up until now, I believed only I had pressure here."
She inhaled deeply, savoring.
"But you… you smell like broken pride and stubborn light."
Ronan whispered, "Shuya… step back. We can't fight this—"
Shuya didn't move.
Instead, he asked politely, "Are you here to kill us too?"
"That depends." She leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "Will you bore me?"
Shuya exhaled slowly.
Not fear.Not arrogance.
Simply… unimpressed.
"I really hope not," he said. "I'd hate to disappoint a guest."
Her smile twitched.
She saw it.She felt it.
His presence.
Quiet.Bright.Growing.
The cave light dimmed in comparison.
Goblins shrieked in every direction.
The yokai snapped her fingers.Shadows coiled.Dozens of goblins poured from hidden cracks and tunnels—ones even the group hadn't noticed.
Ronan cursed. "Ambush!"
Seren raised her staff. "There's too many—!"
"No," Shuya said.
He stepped forward.
Just one step.
And the world reacted.
The air thickened, heavy with a pressured warmth—not aggressive, not explosive. A gentle but absolute radiance. Like standing too close to the sun's surface.
It washed over the goblins.Their movements faltered.Their knees buckled.
Even Ronan gasped. "Wh-what is this heat…?"
Seren shielded her eyes. "It's like he's… shining!"
The yokai narrowed her eyes. "Interesting."
Shuya rolled his shoulders. Each motion increased the aura, like solar flares pulsing from his very bones.
Goblins didn't wait for orders—they attacked in blind terror.
One swung a club.
It hit Shuya.
And broke its own skull from the rebound.
Shuya didn't look at it.
Another stabbed him.
It collapsed with a hole in its chest.
Shuya didn't bother parrying.
Five more jumped him. Clawing. Stabbing. Biting.
They died instantly—bones twisting, organs rupturing, bodies collapsing inward like crushed cans.
Shuya walked through them, unhurried.
He wasn't fighting.He wasn't defending.
He was simply existing, and they couldn't handle it.
Seren whispered, trembling, "This isn't a skill… this is intimidation made real."
Ronan muttered, "This kid's aura… it's royalty-level."
The yokai watched, expression unreadable.
Shuya reached the center of the chamber, goblins dropping like flies the moment they touched him.
"Is this enough?" he asked the yokai.
Her lips slowly parted.
"Marvelous."
She vanished.
Shuya barely tracked the motion—she moved like a blade sliding between heartbeats.
She appeared behind him.
Her claws slashed his neck.
But Shuya didn't flinch.
Instead, her own throat tore open.
The yokai blinked, surprised—and delighted. "Mirror… fascinating!"
She healed instantly, body stitching back together with eerie ease.
"Let's try again."
She attacked from the left.Her arm snapped.Attacked from the right.Her ribs shattered.
She giggled. "Oh I LIKE you."
Shuya's aura didn't spike.Didn't roar.
It simply warmed, steady and patient, as he turned his head toward her.
"You're fast," he said calmly. "But you're hitting me."
"That's the fun part," she whispered.
Her body dissolved into mist, reappearing in twelve positions at once.
Claws raked his back.Her leg chopped his throat.Her palm struck his chest.
Every wound rebounded on her.
She fell to one knee, coughing blood—and grinning wildly.
"So unfair," she breathed. "I adore it."
Then the entire cavern trembled.
Not from her.
From the nest behind them.
Shuya felt it first.
A monstrous aura.Primal.Hungry.Approaching.
The yokai's smile finally faded.
"Oh," she whispered. "It woke up."
Ronan pressed back-to-wall. "What woke up, exactly?!"
"A goblin," she said softly. "But not a normal one."
The tunnel behind them cracked open as something massive squeezed through—green flesh bulging with tumors, eyes glowing sickly yellow, teeth like jagged stones.
A Goblin King Mutant, radiating malice.
It roared.
The cave shook.Footsteps thundered.Debris fell.
Seren screamed, "It's coming straight for us!"
Shuya's aura flared gently, like morning light brushing a battlefield.
The yokai stood, wiping blood from her lips.
"Well then," she murmured, eyes narrowing. "Human… let's see how your sun shines against that."
Shuya stepped forward, calm as still water, spear in hand.
He exhaled.
A gentle wave of heat spread outward, brushing the goblin king's skin—its muscles spasmed. A flicker of fear entered its yellow eyes.
Ronan whispered, awestruck, "He's… farming it. He's making that monster afraid."
Shuya lifted his spear, posture relaxed, expression serene.
"We'll finish this fast."
The goblin king roared and charged.
The yokai smiled wickedly.
And just as both forces crashed toward him—
—the entire cave ceiling cracked.
Light poured in.A deafening roar echoed from above.
Something else had arrived.
Something bigger.
Something ancient.
Shuya's eyes widened just as a colossal shadow blotted out the sun.
To be continued…