The Devouring Knight-Chapter 86 - 85: No Cheers, Only Change

Chapter 85: No Cheers, Only Change

Weeks passed.

The village, once foreign to human eyes, now thrived with seamless cooperation. Fields bore crops. Houses rose faster than ever. And every morning, the rhythm of drills, forging, and meditation filled the air like song.

It began in silence.

Beneath the old ironroot tree at the village’s edge, three figures sat motionless, two goblins and one kobold. The breeze rustled the leaves, but they didn’t stir. For three days and three nights, they neither ate nor drank, their breaths shallow, their eyes closed, as if locked in some inner trial.

Some of the younger goblins whispered about it as they passed.

"Are they dead?" one asked on the second day.

"No," said an older hunter. "They’re searching."

On the dawn of the fourth day, a crack echoed like a snapped branch.

The goblin closest to the trunk inhaled sharply. His back arched, bones creaking, and his skin rippled with heat. Then, without a sound, he stood.

Taller now.

Shoulders broader, frame heavier with muscle and sinew. His eyes opened, glowing faintly with a deeper amber hue.

The second followed. The same transformation, less dramatic, but no less profound.

They weren’t goblins anymore.

They were hobgoblins.

The kobold was last. His breath returned with a hiss, like a drawn blade. He pushed himself to his feet, taller by a head, his scales darker, tougher, sharper. His tail curled with strength, eyes gleaming silver.

He had become an elite kobold.

No cheers met them. No trumpets.

Just the stillness of the tree... and the quiet nods of passing warriors.

.....

On the other side of the village, in the training yard scorched by countless drills, Aren stood above Rogar, spear pointed at the hobgoblin’s throat.

"Again," he growled.

Rogar panted, sweat pouring down his broad chest. Bruises bloomed across his arms like battle-paint. He had fought for hours, endless sparring, weighted drills, pressure points, balance shifts.

"Again," Aren repeated.

And Rogar surged upward with a snarl, knocking the spear aside.

The clash was brutal, more primal than clean, but in that moment, Aren’s eyes lit up, not with amusement, but approval.

Later that night, as Rogar stood by the forge catching his breath, a faint tremor ran through his limbs.

His body tensed.

Then cracked.

The change came in a wave, his muscles surged, spine straightened, and his voice, when he cried out in shock, rumbled like gravel under a war cart.

By morning, he was no longer just a vice-captain.

He was a Hobgoblin Warrior.

But it was the pit that silenced them all.

At the edge of the village, where the elite squads trained, a single figure had sat unmoving for five days.

Trask, a quiet, grim kobold who rarely spoke outside of battle, remained curled like a statue beneath the sun and moon.

Even the wolves had given him space.

On the sixth night, lightning struck far to the north. No one noticed, except Trask.

His eyes opened.

And they glowed.

Not faint. Not dim. A molten glow like magma beneath the skin.

His body moved with eerie grace as he stood. Limbs bulkier now. Movements sharper. He flexed his fingers, claws curling into his palms.

A few elite squad members had gathered nearby.

They didn’t speak.

They didn’t clap.

But they bowed, just slightly, as he passed.

The Berserker had awoken.

Trask paused at the edge of the pit.

He looked at his hands for a long moment. At the new strength etched into his limbs, at the sharpness humming just beneath his skin.

Then, for the first time in a while, he spoke, quiet, almost uncertain.

"I feel... sharper now."

He didn’t mean his claws.

A hobgoblin near him nodded once. "Then you’re ready."

Trask didn’t answer.

He didn’t need to.

By the end of that week, the word had spread, not shouted, not posted, but passed from warrior to warrior like coals in the dark.

No songs.

Just reverence.

Growth, in the goblin village, had never been a parade.

It was a fire stoked in silence.

Earned in sweat.

And honored with respect.

.....

It was on a silvered morning that the captains and leaders gathered at the mouth of Shade’s cavern.

Lumberling stood at the front, cloak still, his expression unreadable.

The cave trembled.

A sharp cracking echoed from deep within.

Then... silence.

Then, a ripple of sound like silk tearing, and from the shadows, Shade emerged.

The creature that crawled into the open wasn’t the same Venomfang Matron they once knew.

Shade was larger now, plated in dark, glistening chitin edged with faint glowing lines. Eight limbs moved with quiet precision, more fluid and deadly than before. Two spined legs curled forward in a protective stance. Its mandibles clicked once, slowly, deliberately, as if testing the air.

Shade had evolved.

And every warrior present knew it.

A slow murmur rose among the captains. Some took unconscious steps back. Others simply stared.

"Quasi-Knight," Skitz whispered. "It’s at that level now."

Shade’s many eyes scanned them all, then landed on Lumberling.

He stepped forward without hesitation.

There was no fear in his movements, only quiet trust. He placed a hand gently on Shade’s head.

A pulse.

A quiet thread stretched between them, not of words, but of something deeper.

Instinct. Intention.

Thought.

Lumberling blinked once. Then smiled faintly.

"You heard me," he said. "You always do."

Shade’s eyes blinked in slow sequence.

"I need you to guard this place," Lumberling continued. "While I’m away. This village... it’s your home too. And they..." he looked back at the villagers, the goblins, the kobolds, "they’re your people."

Shade didn’t move for a long time.

Then, it lowered its body, mandibles brushing against the ground in solemn promise.

Lumberling exhaled.

"And in return," he said, "you won’t be alone. Karnark will stay. He understands you better than most. You’ll have company. A voice."

Karnark stepped forward at the cue. He didn’t flinch under Shade’s gaze.

"We’ll get along fine," Karnark muttered. "Long as you don’t eat my rations."

Shade’s fangs clicked once. A chuff of air escaped its mandibles, almost like a laugh.

.....

The full strength of the village had never been laid out like this before.

Now, it was.

Total Population of goblins and kobolds: 771.

Combat-Ready Soldiers: Over 450.

Lumberling reviewed the deployment plans for the final time with his inner circle.

Deployment Breakdown

Mercenary Group (Led by Lumberling):

Core Leaders:

Skitz – Right hand, Vice-leader, Quasi-Knight level.

Aren – Captain of elite squad, Peak-Knight Page level.

Gorrak –Hobgoblin Warrior, Mid-Knight Page level.

Rogar – Hobgoblin Warrior, Early-Knight Page level.

Trask – Kobold Berserker, Early-Knight Page level.

Elite Squads:

36 original elite soldiers.

20 of the 27 who evolved during the war volunteered to join.

3 recent evolutions.

Total Elites: 59 Hobgoblins and Elite Kobolds.

Beasts: 3 Golden Eagles.

Total count: 65 warriors + 3 golden eagles.

.....

Deep Forest Training Unit (Led by Krivex):

Captains:

Krivex – Peak Knight Page level.

Gobo1 & Gobo2 – Peak Knight Page level.

Takkar – Peak Knight Page level.

Vakk – Mid-Knight Page level.

Support:

Zarn – Medic, Early Knight Page level.

Vrak – Vice-captain of Gobo2, Hobgoblin.

7 evolved hobgoblins and elite kobolds.

44 militia, 130 hunters, and 52 archers’ units.

3 Golden Eagles.

Total count: 240 + 3 golden eagles.

.....

Village Defense (Led by Grokk & Skarn):

Grokk – Mid-Knight Apprentice level.

Skarn – Peak Knight Page level.

Karnark – Early Knight Page, Shade liaison.

78 Boar Cavalry & 43 Guard Units.

Shade – Quasi-Knight level.

33 Scout Units – Continuous patrol duty.

.....

Human Leadership:

Uncle Drake & Orrin – Assigned to oversee integration of human villagers.

Old Man Dan & Celine – Agricultural and domestic liaison.

.....

That night, a quiet fire burned at the heart of the village. Captains and families gathered to share a final meal. No speeches. No announcements. Just food, laughter, and quiet purpose.

Lumberling stood at the cliff’s edge as the moon rose, watching the torches flicker through the village.

Beside him, Skitz leaned on a post.

"You sure you want to leave Shade behind?" Skitz asked quietly.

Lumberling nodded. "This is his home too now. He’ll protect it better than anyone."

"And the others? You ready to lead them into the war?"

Lumberling’s voice was steady. "No. But I’m ready to learn. And that’s enough."

Behind them, the mercenary squad was already assembling.

Armor gleamed under starlight. Horses stood ready. Eagles flapped quietly on their perches. The air thrummed with a new kind of energy.

The kind that came before a storm.

Soon, they would march.

But tonight, the village stood united.

And the firelight danced over the faces of monsters and humans alike, no longer strangers, but something new.

Something worth fighting for.

.....

Five months had passed since the battle against the Sengolio army.

It didn’t feel like that long, not with the pace they’d been moving. Not with all the fires they’d put out and the new ones they were starting.

Months of building.

Of bleeding.

Of burying.

And watching others evolve.

Lumberling turned his spear once in his hand, fingers tightening.

He hadn’t stopped. He trained. He planned. He carried the whole damn thing on his back.

But still...

"I’m not falling behind," he told himself.

And yet, the thought clawed at the back of his mind.

"What if I am?"

There was only one way to know.

Lumberling stood in silence, the morning light casting long shadows across the training yard. With a steady breath, he focused inward, calling forth the window only he could see.

His status screen shimmered into view.

Name: Lumberling

Race: Human

Age: 23

Level: 8

Essence Point: (10,129 / 17,800)

Power: 2,965 (Skills: 1,951 | Level: 1,014)

Knight Stage: Knight Apprentice

Active Skills

Beginner Sprint Lv1 (174/1000)

Beginner Hammer Shock Lv0 (689/1000)

Beginner Essence Weave Lv0 (143/1000)

(Derived from Essence Devour. Allows the user to bind the essence of a fallen enemy and channel it into another chosen vessel.)

Passive Skills

Essence Devour

Beginner Spearheart Doctrine Lv6 (563/1000)

Beginner Concealment Lv4 (322/1000)

Beginner Swordsmanship Lv2 (603/1000)

Beginner Bowmanship Lv1 (179/1000)

Beginner Shieldmanship Lv0 (532/1000)

Beginner Cudgel Fighting Lv0 (648/1000)

Beginner Dual Wielding Axe Lv0 (277/1000)

Resistances

Beginner Poison Resistance Lv0 (183/1000)

.....

Life Skills:

Engineering and Construction (Advanced Lv. 1)

Drawing (Intermediate Lv. 4)

Mechanics (Intermediate Lv. 1)

Cooking (Low Lv. 8)

Piano (Low Lv. 6)

Crafting (Low Lv. 4)

Calligraphy (Low Lv. 3)

Driving (Low Lv. 2)

Singing (Low Lv.1)

Dancing (Low Lv. 1)

Guitar (Beginner Lv. 8)

Pottery (Beginner Lv. 7)

Sewing (Beginner Lv. 5)

Hunting (Beginner Lv. 2)

Butchering (Beginner Lv. 1)

Tracking (Beginner Lv. 1)

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