After waking up from his evolution, Rick didn’t bother looking at his status. Nor did he call for his Royal Guard. Nor did he check anything at all about himself, for that matter. All he knew was that he was up now. He was here now. And his people needed him.

  This moment is why he was King.

  This moment is why he left when his people needed him the most.

  This was the moment when he would return the faith his people had placed in him.

  There was nothing else on his mind except vengeance and delivering his wrath to the enemy. And Velora knew this so she remained quiet. This was not the time to remind Rick of any cons to the situation, of any potential drawbacks to what he was about to do. This was not the moment to be the logic in his actions, to tell him anything that was presumably sensible. No.

  That’s not what this was.

  And even if it was that type of moment, she knew Rick would not register a single word she said. So she simply watched. From behind the veil of his eyes and through the shared sense that they possessed, she watched as Rick bent his knees ever so slightly, looked in the direction of the cliff he once stood at that and overlooked the Dark Lands of Mir, then flexed his muscles, and with one strong push, he leapt across the lands of the Clans, covering a vast distance with just one leap.

  Of course, that one leap wasn’t enough to get him from where he was to the foot of the cliff and up and over it, but he got really close. Close enough that it only took a second leap for him to clear the vast height that was the cliff.

  And the second he rose to the top, his blood boiled.

  For there he could see the Chief of the Shadow Clan fighting off a group of people, wolves and humans alike. But it wasn’t the sight of the battle that made his blood boil. No. It was the fact that the Chief was missing an arm. There was nothing beneath the left shoulder of the Chief.

  All that remained there was the blood that hadn’t stopped leaking.

  Rick landed on the cliff with a thud, but his feet barely stayed there for a second before he vanished before the eyes of the Shadows of Verdan, his own Shadow Clan Chief, and the members of the Black Wolf tribe.

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  The next time he reappeared, there was liquid dripping from his hands, and in them, the head of something that resembled a black wolf. The facial expression on the head was still the same one that was there when Rick first arrived.

  The leader of the Black Wolf Tribe didn’t even know how it died.

  The Shadows of Verdan reacted quickly, and although suddenly overcome with fear and filled with mourning for their lost comrade, the remaining black members of the black wolf tribe reacted just as quickly.

  But it wasn’t quick enough.

  Rick moved again, vanishing before their very eyes. And everywhere he went, death followed. He was silent. He didn’t roar. He didn’t rage. He didn’t mock his enemies. He didn’t stare daggers into their souls.

  He just moved. He wished death upon those who stood before him, and his body moved to fulfill that wish. Multiple times.

  So much so that anyone he had yet to kill could no longer stay and fight but rushed off toward the distant battlefield in retreat.

  But there would be no reprieve for them. There would be nowhere to run. Not while they were still in the Dark Lands of Mir. Not while they were still within reach of the King of Goblins.

  Rick would’ve loved to have stayed behind and checked on his Chief, but there would be time for that later. For now at this current point, murder was on his mind. And if the Shadow Clan Chief could hear his thoughts, he would spur on his King even more.

  Rick took off after those who were escaping and eventually found himself on the battlefield. Thousands of goblins, humans, and Demi-Humans stood in shock. All of them had felt him evolve, and it hadn’t been long since he’d woken up. Not long enough for them to immediately begin fighting once more.

  Even those as experienced as the Spear of Touval took a bit longer to collect herself. In all her years on the battlefield, in all her years of being alive, in all the books she had read and lectures she had attended, everything she had ever done, there had never been mention of something like what she experienced today.

  The pull on natural mana that the King of Goblins had. It wanted to be around him. It wanted to assist him in his endeavors.

  She could feel it. She could feel the untainted and uncontrolled mana in the air, gravitating towards the King of Goblins ever so slightly. He wasn’t sucking all the mana toward him. It wasn’t even an aggressive pull. If she even barely willed for the mana to come under her control, it would follow suit.

  But none of the mana around them moved toward her without her doing anything. None of it clung to her or sought to be near her passively.

  She had heard of similar things with the elves. And perhaps the archers were just as shocked, if not more so. A creature they saw as a stain. A pest. A monster. Something to be eradicated when it suited them. Just one of nature’s many mistakes, perhaps, was here.

  And it was clearly being loved by mana.

  It was unheard of. Unprecedented. Something that truly confused the Spear of Touval

  Though unfortunately for her, Rick wasn’t here to be the subject of their awe and shock. Rick was here for one thing only.

  Green flames poured out of his body like that of a waterfall. There was nothing they could do to stop it. No dam that could contain it. No wall that could block it.

  For these flames were powered by wrath, and it was far from being fulfilled.