It was a sight that should never have been.
I couldn't believe my eyes.
Some kind of joke? Even if it was, it was a cruel one.
Or maybe it was an act, designed to catch the opponent off guard.
But no.
I could see that it wasn't.
Brother Lazalaza was smiling.
Alongside
That guy — the enemy of everyone in our village.
Smiling as though he were genuinely enjoying himself.
And in those eyes, I could even sense a look of adoration.
That alone should have been impossible, but Lazalaza was also holding several flower bookmarks in his hands.
Those were precious things to goblins.
Talisman bookmarks that goblins carried with them when they went out hunting — incredibly important items.
And Lazalaza had many of them.
One flower talisman per person.
If that was the case, then those weren't Lazalaza's.
Our village had been gone for quite some time now.
Even if he'd kept them as bookmarks, Lazalaza's original talisman should have withered and dried up long ago.
So whose talismans was Lazalaza holding?
I didn't want to think about it.
But there was only one answer.
The talismans Lazalaza held belonged to warriors from a different goblin village — not ours.
And if Lazalaza had them, that meant Lazalaza had wiped out that village.
My vision went crimson.
Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?
He'd betrayed us.
He'd defiled our pride.
Unforgivable.
<Proficiency has reached a certain level. Skill 'Rage LV9' has become 'Rage LV10'> <Conditions have been met. Skill 'Rage LV10' has evolved into Skill '
As though it were burning me alive.
At the same time, the Monster Tamer's curse that had bound me also unraveled, burning away to nothing.
Ah — now I was free.
Now, nothing could stop me.
I poured every last drop of power into forging a weapon.
All I wanted was destruction.
A cursed, sinister flame-sword took shape — an exact reflection of the rage consuming my heart.
Without hesitation, I brought it crashing down on that shameless traitor.
The one I'd once called brother couldn't even mount a proper defense. He was cleaved apart and engulfed in the ensuing inferno.
I swung at Buirimus next, carried by the momentum, but — give him credit — he'd already put distance between us.
The noise drew the others swarming in.
Buirimus was summoning new monsters too.
I didn't care.
I was fine with dying if that's what it took.
Let them feel the full weight of my wrath.
"So this is… karma…"
I stood over Buirimus as he approached his final moments.
Aside from Buirimus, I was the only one left standing here.
I'd killed every last one of them.
Their fighting force had been overwhelmingly superior.
What turned the tide was Wrath, the Battle God Art, and above all, my peculiar ability to fully recover every time my level increased.
Because my level was so low, I only needed to kill a few of them to level up.
I'd burn through all my HP, MP, and SP until I was on the brink of death, then recover everything on level-up.
Then I'd fight again until I was nearly dead.
Over and over.
In the early stages, their hesitation to kill me had also been a huge factor.
My Weapon Creation was a valuable ability from their perspective.
Was it really okay to just kill something that useful?
I could see that calculation behind their eyes — they'd prioritized incapacitating me over finishing me off.
And I'd exploited that opening ruthlessly.
"Pathetic."
Buirimus, the last one standing, had been strong.
As a Monster Tamer, and as a straightforward warrior alike.
Even by warrior strength alone, he'd been stronger than anyone else here.
And now that formidable man was lying face-down on the ground, weeping.
"Do you… hate me?"
I didn't answer Buirimus's question.
There was no point.
Instead of an answer, I raised my sword high and brought it down.
"What regret…"
And then Buirimus drew his last breath.
That final murmur carried something heavy and clinging — like an obsession that refused to let go.
He must have had something he'd wanted to accomplish, that desperately.
Even if it meant exterminating us goblins.
Karma had come for him.
And yet my heart wouldn't clear.
A terrible sense of loss and emptiness lingered.
Along with the undying flames of Wrath.
I pulled an Appraisal Stone from Buirimus's corpse.
Then I appraised myself.
There, the words appeared: Evolvable.
Two possible evolutions.
Hobgoblin, and Ogre.
I made my choice.
At the same time, I used the naming skill to change my name.
To Ras.
I no longer had any right to call myself a goblin.
Both my pride and my prayers had been smothered beneath this rage.
So I couldn't be a goblin anymore.
What stood here was a single oni.
An oni consumed by nothing but Wrath.
Howling toward the heavens, I lost consciousness — to begin my Evolution.