Just as Leon finished speaking, the atmosphere in the camp shifted. A sharp tension filled the air—subtle, yet unmistakable. Goban, standing beside Leon, suddenly tensed, his nostrils flaring as his sharp eyes darted to the shadows.
A split second later—
Shing!
A cold glint flashed in the moonlight. A dagger, aimed straight for Alcha's throat.
Time seemed to slow. Alcha barely registered the attack, his body frozen in fear. But before the blade could reach its target—
CLANG!
A massive hand shot out, intercepting the assassin's strike. Goban had moved in an instant, his monstrous strength sending the attacker skidding backward. The impact alone was enough to crack the ground beneath them.
The assassin, clad in a dark robe, staggered but quickly regained their footing. "What…?" they hissed, eyes narrowing at Goban. "A goblin shouldn't be that strong—"
The words died in their throat. Goban's crimson eyes gleamed under the torchlight, his massive frame looming over them.
"Oni Goblin…?" the second assassin muttered, voice filled with disbelief.
The assassins hesitated for only a second before leaping backward, attempting to vanish into the darkness. But before they could escape—
BOOM!
Goban launched forward with terrifying speed, closing the distance in the blink of an eye. His massive hand clamped around one assassin's throat like a vice, slamming them into the dirt with a bone-rattling impact. The ground cracked beneath them.
The second assassin barely had time to react before a powerful backhand from Goban sent them flying into the waiting arms of the orc warriors, who wasted no time in subduing them.
Leon watched it all unfold with a neutral expression. It had happened so fast—faster than he could process. He had no idea Goban was this strong.
Is evolution really that effective? he wondered.
As the assassins were restrained, Leon shifted his gaze from them to Alcha, then back again.
"Were they here to kill this alchemist guy?" he muttered.
Leon narrowed his eyes, stepping closer to the captured assassins. They struggled in the orcs' grip but couldn't break free.
He turned to Alcha. "Well? You recognize them?"
Alcha swallowed hard, his face pale. "No… but I know who sent them."
Leon crossed his arms. "The Church?"
Alcha nodded. "I thought I had more time."
Leon glanced at the assassins. One glared at him with silent defiance, while the other avoided his gaze.
"Kill them?" Goban asked, his grip tightening.
Leon considered it for a moment, then exhaled. "Not yet. Tie them up. We'll question them first."
The orcs obeyed, binding the assassins with thick ropes.
As the night deepened, the camp finally settled. The orcs and goblins returned to their duties, and the humans, though wary of their monstrous allies, slowly adjusted. The captured assassins were placed under heavy guard, while Alcha sat near the fire, still shaken.
Exhausted from the day's events, Leon retreated to his chamber. The room was simple—wooden walls, a sturdy table, and a bed made from furs. He sat on the edge, running a hand through his hair, his mind replaying the attack.
A quiet sigh escaped him. He had expected trouble, but not this soon. Still, he couldn't afford to hesitate.
Just as he leaned back against the bed, his instincts flared.
—A presence.
Before he could react, a figure slipped into the room. Silent. Quick. But as soon as the scent of wildflowers reached him, he knew.
"…Elys?"
The moonlight filtering through the wooden gaps cast a soft glow on her silhouette. She stood near the entrance, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.
"You let your guard down," she said softly.
Leon smirked. "Didn't think I needed to be on edge in my own room."
Elys stepped forward, her movements graceful but deliberate. "We were attacked today. You're not invincible, Leon."
He chuckled. "I have Goban watching my back."
She frowned slightly. "That's not the point."