Arin moved silently through the forest, his body gliding between shadows as if he belonged to them.
Each step was light. Controlled. Intentional.
At the same time, he reached out with his senses—not just sight or sound, but something deeper. He could feel the forest. The subtle flow of life, the faint movement of mana, the quiet rhythm of nature breathing around him.
It calmed him.
But his mind was anything but calm.
"…How am I going to convince them?"
His thoughts drifted back to his family.
They had always been like that—tight-knit, closed off, distrustful of outsiders. To them, family was everything. Anyone beyond that circle was, at best, an acquaintance… and at worst, a liability.
Arin understood that.
He really did.
But understanding didn't change reality.
"Our numbers just aren't enough…"
He exhaled slowly as he leaped over a fallen branch without breaking stride.
There were just over a hundred core members—people who had grown up in the family, trained in their ways, able to move through shadows as naturally as breathing. Silent. Precise. Deadly.
Then there were the in-laws.
Another hundred or so.
They hadn't grown up the same way, but over time, they had adapted. Many had taken up archery as a shared hobby, and now… they were more than competent.
They were elite.
"Two hundred people…"
Arin's eyes narrowed slightly.
"In this world, that's nothing."
No matter how skilled they were, numbers still mattered. There was only so much ground two hundred people could cover. Only so many threats they could handle at once.
Yes—they could run.
They were very good at running.
If things got too dangerous, they could disappear into forests, mountains, or shadows themselves.
But that came with a cost.
"…We'd always be on the run."
That wasn't survival.
That was a delay.
Arin clenched his jaw slightly.
"No… that's not enough."
If they wanted stability—if they wanted power—they needed more.
Which meant one thing.
"…We'll have to let others in."
Even thinking about it made him uneasy.
Convincing his family wouldn't be easy. Trust wasn't something they gave lightly. It had to be earned, proven… sometimes over years.
"Still…"
His gaze sharpened.
"There's no other way."
"…Maybe there's something in the shop."
Arin's thoughts shifted as he continued moving.
"Something that lets you test people…"
A way to see loyalty.
Intent.
Truth.
If something like that existed, it would solve half his problems instantly.
"…I'll check later."
He pushed the thought aside.
Because something else had caught his attention.
Ahead of him—
Movement.
Arin slowed, his presence fading even further as he slipped behind a thick tree trunk.
"…About five hundred."
A group of goblins was moving through the forest, heading deeper inland.
Arin's lips curled into a faint smile.
"These are mine."
It had been a while since he had properly practiced close combat. Archery was efficient, yes—but there was something grounding about getting close.
Something real.
"…Let's stretch a little."
Without another word, he melted into the shadows.
He didn't attack immediately.
Instead, he followed them.
Walking among them.
Becoming part of the background.
From time to time—
One disappeared.
A goblin would stray slightly. Step behind a tree. Fall half a pace behind.
Then—
A quiet gurgle.
A brief twitch.
And nothing.
No scream.
No struggle.
Just silence.
And the body would never be found.
"…Too easy."
Arin moved like a ghost.
Three hours passed.
Two hundred goblins died.
And not a single one realized what was happening.
Still—
Something felt off.
"They're tense…"
The goblins were restless. Their movements were sharper than usual, their heads turning more often, their posture more alert.
It was as if they were expecting something.
"…But not this."
Arin almost laughed.
By the time darkness began to fall, the goblins had settled down.
They made camp—if it could even be called that.
No structure.
No guards.
Just a loose gathering of bodies collapsing wherever they felt like.
"…Seriously?"
Arin sat on a tree branch above them, watching quietly.
"How have they not noticed anything?"
Below him, the goblins chewed lazily on leaves and scraps of cloth. Apparently, both counted as food to them.
The smell didn't help.
Nor did the taste linger in his own mouth.
"…Ugh."
He pulled out a piece of candy and popped it into his mouth, trying to mask the unpleasant aftertaste.
As the sweetness spread, his thoughts drifted.
"…It's still surreal."
Less than two years ago, his life had been completely different.
He had just finished high school.
College had been next.
A normal life.
Predictable.
Safe.
"…And now…"
He looked out over the forest.
They were on a floating continent, suspended in an endless void, fighting for survival alongside the rest of humanity.
For sovereignty.
For power.
For something even greater.
"…Immortality…"
If they reached the top—if they became one of the Guardian Races…
That possibility still didn't feel real.
"…Sometimes I wonder if this is all just a dream."
As Arin sat there, watching the last light of the sun disappear beyond the horizon, his family wasn't doing much better.
For the first time in a long while, they weren't just passing through a forest.
They were staying.
Living in it.
And it stirred something in them.
Nostalgia.
They missed their home.
Their forest.
The familiar sounds. The animals. The quiet sense of belonging.
"…I wonder what Earth is like right now."
Had anything changed?
Had time even passed?
"…Guess I'll find out if we ever go back."
Arin dropped down from the tree.
Silently.
The goblins were asleep.
All of them.
"…Not even a single guard."
He shook his head.
"Idiots."
He moved.
One step.
Then another.
His blade flashed.
A throat opened.
No sound.
Another step.
Another kill.
Again.
And again.
The night swallowed the deaths.
One by one, the goblins died in their sleep.
"…Too easy."
But then—
Movement.
A goblin stirred.
Then another.
"…Ah."
They smelled the blood.
Arin exhaled.
"So much for subtlety."
He drew his short sword fully.
And moved.
Fast.
He dashed through the camp, cutting through bodies that were only just beginning to wake. Heads rolled. Blood sprayed. Limbs twitched.
The goblins panicked.
But it didn't matter.
It was too dark.
They couldn't see him.
They could only hear him.
The sound of steel.
The wet tearing of flesh.
The screams.
They lashed out wildly, striking at shadows, at each other, at nothing.
Chaos consumed them.
And Arin moved through it like death itself.
Half an hour later—
Silence.
Five hundred goblins.
Gone.
"…That was exhausting…"
Arin leaned against a tree, breathing heavily.
Even for him, that had taken effort.
After a moment, he climbed back up into the tree he had chosen earlier.
"…Time to recover."
He closed his eyes.
And began to meditate.
His body slowly absorbed the surrounding mana.
It wasn't much.
The ambient mana in this area was poor—thin, weak.
"…Still not enough…"
His stats hadn't changed in a while.
But here, in the forest, it was slightly better.
And with his constitution—
He pulled mana in.
Drew it toward himself.
Unknowingly, a faint whirlpool began to form around him.
If anyone had the tools to see it, they would have been stunned.
But there was no one to witness it.
Elsewhere, the legions rested.
Recovering.
Preparing.
And yet—
There was something strange.
No night raids.
No counterattacks.
Nothing.
"…That's not normal."
They had advanced nearly fifty kilometers into the forest.
They had made no effort to hide their presence.
And yet—
Nothing.
"…They should know we're here."
Which meant one thing.
"They're waiting."
Deep within the forest—
At its very center—
Something stirred.
A single goblin sat in silence.
Meditating.
Its presence was… different.
Calm.
Controlled.
Aware.
Before it—
Millions of goblins sat in formation.
Still.
Silent.
Disciplined.
Unlike anything seen before.
They were armed.
Armored.
Organized.
And behind them—
The usual chaos of lesser goblins remained.
A stark contrast.
Order and disorder.
Side by side.
This…
Was what the generals had feared.
What they had read in reports.
But never truly believed.
If any human saw this with their own eyes—
They would be called insane.
Because this wasn't normal.
This wasn't natural.
This was something far worse.