Dawn had not yet settled when the scouts returned running, panting, fear etched clearly into their eyes.
"PigMen!" one of them shouted. "A small group, to the north!"
César, who had been meditating, rose abruptly. Though he had always known the moment to face them would come, he never imagined it would be so soon. Even so, he did not hesitate. His voice was firm, devoid of doubt.
"Vanguard! Come with me."
They were not many.
Five goblins who had already opened mana veins, two who were cultivating Aura… his wife, his mother… and himself.
It was enough.
César did not intend to confront them directly. He only wanted to see the situation.
To study them.
To measure the enemy.
The clash occurred in a narrow clearing, surrounded by twisted trees and exposed roots.
The PigMen appeared as masses of flesh and tusks—pink skin covered in scars, small eyes filled with contempt. They wielded crude maces, hardened bones, weapons made to crush, not to fight with technique.
'They advance without formation,' César thought.
"As always," he murmured.
On the DevilMan continent, concepts such as formations, refined mana techniques, or proper tools were outdated. Here, brute force alone ruled.
And that… was an advantage.
Seeing the dead and mangled goblin bodies along the path, his people instinctively swallowed, nerves tightening.
The impact was brutal.
César broke the engagement down in his mind in an instant:
One PigMan charged with all his weight, hurling a goblin against a tree. Another raised his weapon and brought it down without thought, relying solely on raw strength.
As they advanced through the remains of the skirmish, César stopped suddenly.
A body.
A dead goblin.
On his chest was a strange mark, crudely carved.
That was when he understood.
'I always wondered who these enemies were—the ones never mentioned in the novel… now I understand.'
A spark of excitement ran through him. If he was right, he could take advantage of this.
But unease followed.
It could be dangerous.
It could already be too late.
He shook his head, pushing those thoughts aside, and continued forward.
After some time, they caught up to a small group of retreating PigMen.
César turned toward Asia and gave the signal.
Asia moved to his side, mana flowing with cold precision. A simple spell, perfectly placed, hardened the ground beneath a PigMan's feet, throwing him off balance.
"Now," she said.
César advanced with the other goblins and struck without pause.
The fight ended quickly.
Two PigMen fell.
The others retreated, snarling, dragging their wounded with them.
They were not pursued.
"Let them go," César ordered. "Let them carry the message."
The goblins breathed heavily. Wounded, but alive.
Though they had not killed any, they were smiling.
They had never imagined they would one day stand against the PigMen—a race believed to be superior to goblins.
That day proved something undeniable:
The PigMen were not invincible.
But they would not be easy.
And everyone knew it.
This was only the beginning.
That same night, César did not sleep.
With Asia and his mother, Luna, he ventured beyond the known routes. He carried no escort.
He did not need one.
The mana vein pulsed faintly in the distance.
"There," Luna murmured, closing her eyes.
They advanced carefully.
The PigMan village was not a village.
It was a camp.
Disordered, brutal… but powerful.
Hut after hut made of broken wood and bones, improvised palisades, stakes with the remains of other races impaled as warnings. The stench was constant: dried blood, grease, smoke.
Asia clenched her teeth.
"So this is how they live."
César observed in silence.
He counted patrols.
Counted paths.
Counted mistakes.
'They're strong… but stupid.'
He sighed when he noticed something else.
They too possessed a mana vein.
'This continent truly is rich…'
When they returned, César had already made his decision.
But first…
He needed certainty.
He needed to form his core.
The Core That Did Not Exist
The training changed.
It was no longer just endurance.
No longer just blows.
It was breaking the body again and again.
César trained until he bled—until Aura, that rough and violent force, began to respond.
The other goblins, along with his brother, watched from afar. Some thought their leader had gone mad.
Only his brother understood the reason.
And so he clenched his fists… and trained harder.
Not far away, Asia watched carefully. She noticed small fluctuations emanating from César's body.
"This is different," she murmured. "It's not like mana."
"It's powerful," Luna replied, confused. The Aura felt brutal… overwhelming.
She had heard her son say Aura was weaker than mana.
If César knew what she was thinking, he would roll his eyes.
Only he knew that in the future, mages would dominate thanks to devastating spells and extended longevity.
And one night…
It happened.
César fell to his knees at the center of the training grounds. His breathing was erratic. The Aura, which had only reinforced muscles and bones before, began to rotate.
He sat upright, crossed his legs, and closed his eyes.
He focused the Aura.
Not around him.
Inside.
Right beside his mana core.
'It's not energy…'
'It's compressed will.'
One heartbeat.
Then another.
The Aura stopped dispersing.
It condensed.
An invisible, brutal, primal core took shape within his body.
César screamed.
Not in pain.
But in release.
The ground cracked beneath his hands.
The air trembled.
Asia's eyes widened.
"That is…"
Luna smiled slowly.
"An Aura Core."
The first.
Not only in the village.
But on the continent.
The King's Effect
The news spread like wildfire.
The goblins saw him train the next day.
Saw him withstand blows that would have shattered him before.
Saw him move with a different presence.
No more doubt.
No more fear.
"If he could do it…"
"Then so can we."
At first, there was skepticism. Mana was at least known. Aura… no one had ever heard of it.
But the battle was approaching.
And motivation surged.
Training became hellish.
Harder.
Crueler.
More determined.
And it bore fruit.
The first signs of Aura began to appear.
César's brother was the first.
Weak.
Unstable.
But real.
'This is how an empire is forged,' César thought, watching them with approval.
Preparations of Blood
That night, César stood before the improvised map of the region.
The PigMan camp was marked with a red line.
Asia approached.
Luna stood beside him.
"Is it time?" Asia asked.
César clenched his fist.
The Aura answered.
"Yes."
He lifted his gaze.
"Now…"
"We attack."
And for the first time…
The PigMen would not be the hunters.