Even though Tedd's voice dripped with hatred, there was a sadness in his eyes he couldn't hide.It was hard to tell if he truly hated Leah... or if he and the rest of the Larsian crew were just using her as a scapegoat for their own frustrations.Leah was, after all, the daughter of their leader.If she couldn’t take responsibility, who else was there to blame?At least, that’s what they kept telling themselves.Leah didn’t say a word.She just stood there, silent.And without meaning to, two tears slowly slid down her cheeks.She hadn’t been lying when she said Larsian was like family to her.So hearing those words—hearing them say they were disappointed in her, that they didn’t want to see her again—hurt more than anything she could’ve imagined."I... I don’t know how to make it right," Leah rasped, her voice thick with unshed tears. "But I really am sorry."She blinked rapidly, trying to keep herself from falling apart right there in front of them. She didn’t want them thinking she

"Aaaargh!"Leonie and Sasha screamed in shock as the inn’s front doors were blasted clean off their hinges, crashing ten meters across the floor.They couldn’t even move, let alone run. Their bodies locked up in pure terror.And just when it felt like things couldn’t get any worse, the real horror began.A figure stepped calmly through the wrecked doorway and into the lobby.“M-Mom... wh-who’s that...?” Sasha stammered, clutching onto her mother’s arm.A woman—no, a creature—stood there. She looked around fifty, dressed in a torn-up medieval aristocrat’s gown. Her skin was cracked and peeling like dried-out leather.Even so, compared to any goblin they had ever seen, she was... strangely clean.“W-who is she...?” Sasha’s voice shook as she stared wide-eyed at the approaching goblin.Leonie only tightened her grip on her daughter, shaking her head slightly.Whoever this goblin was, her instincts screamed one thing: she was powerful.There was no other way she could’ve blown the door of

Somewhere else.A vintage Duesenberg rolled to a stop at a crossroads on the edge of Cammont.If they turned right, it would lead them toward the Asheville district. Left would take them straight into downtown Cammont—and a few hundred miles beyond that, the village of Greencliff."You sure you don't want me to take you all the way, Marc?"The driver—none other than Wangyal—unbuckled his seatbelt and turned toward the young man beside him.Marc shook his head. "Nah, buddy. This one's on me. I can handle it."Two hours earlier, Marc had gotten a call from Sasha. Her voice, trembling with fear, told him enough—the Scorpion gang was wreaking havoc in Greencliff. Without a second thought, he left Wyndham behind.I've never heard Sasha sound that scared before, Marc thought grimly. It must be chaos over there.By pure luck, Wangyal happened to show up at Winslow Mansion just as Marc was preparing to leave. The Duesenberg belonged to a noble family—it was strictly off-limits for commoners t

Marc didn’t say a word. His brows furrowed, deep in thought.Leah’s question had clearly shaken something loose in his mind.“She’s right… This doesn’t add up. Ordinary goblins shouldn’t be able to break through the magical seal I set up, right?”That thought echoed loudly in his head.Just like he told Leonie before he left for Asheville, the lobby was supposed to be secure—no matter how many goblins tried to breach it. The magic barrier he installed wasn’t just powerful—it was foolproof against anything below level 5 cultivation.And up until now, not a single goblin he’d encountered had shown power anywhere close to that. They’d all been weaker—far weaker.Even if a hundred or a thousand of them attacked the barrier at once, it shouldn’t have mattered.So if one of them—or something else entirely—actually managed to shatter his seal…There was only one possible explanation.“Could its power really be that high?”Marc felt a knot form in his stomach as that realization hit him. A cr

Grizelda.The goblin leader of the northern territories.At first glance, there was nothing impressive about her—unless you counted the tattered medieval noblewoman’s dress clinging to her bony frame. It was stained, torn, and filthy. Her short, frail body looked like it had been through hell. Her face and hands were scarred and blistered, like someone who had barely crawled out of a fire alive.To most, she looked exactly like what you’d expect from a goblin—grotesque and terrifying. But that impression flipped completely the moment she entered combat.The moment she unleashed her true power.Whoosh!A blast of wind ripped through the air as Grizelda’s small, shriveled fist shot forward like a bullet. Her hand, leathery and lined with age, was wrapped in a chilling black aura—one that radiated both overwhelming force and a bone-deep cold.The surrounding goblins roared in twisted delight as their leader stepped onto the battlefield. But their joy didn’t last long. The moment she bega