Fuu…

  The layout was clear now, every piece of this grotesque ritual laid bare before me as I crouched low behind the trees. My breathing was slow and steady, but my heart pounded like a war drum as I took in the details.

  Six elite goblins and possibly more, every one of them brutal and strong, as they moved with grim purpose around the clearing.

  Two stood at the edge of the moat, tasked with harvesting blood.

  Three others worked near the center, dragging the lifeless, bloodless bodies to the growing pile by the pyre. Their movements were less methodical but no less efficient, their rough hands gripping limp limbs as they tossed the corpses aside like broken tools.

  Fuu…they all are way too disciplined in their work for a goblin that should be impossible and yet…There is a possibility they are under the hooded one’s control and in that case, they may very well ignore pain and fear.

  And then there was the sixth.

  This one was different. Decked out in patched leather armor, it stood close to the cloaked figure, its sharp eyes scanning the clearing with an intensity that sent a chill down my spine. The jagged blade strapped to its back looked well-used, and its stance screamed that it was no stranger to combat.

  A bodyguard and probably higher tier elite class.

  And the cloaked figure it was guarding—tall, hunched, and unsettling in its every movement—was undoubtedly the ritual’s shaman. The staff it wielded thumped against the ground in rhythmic pulses, each strike of bone against dirt syncing with the chants that filled the air.

  The energy emanating from the ritual was palpable now, a weight pressing down on the forest that bent and twisted the very space around the pyre. The faint hum of the runes had grown into an ominous vibration that seemed to rattle through my skull, each pulse digging deeper into my nerves.

  “Shit,” I muttered under my breath, clenching my fists as I forced myself to focus.

  fuuuh..

  The longer I waited, the more unstable the energy around the ritual became. The flames of the pyre twisted higher, their unnatural red light staining the clearing with an almost otherworldly hue. Whatever they were summoning, it was close—too close.

  I didn’t have time to overthink this. I needed to move.

  I let out a slow, controlled breath, forcing my mind to steady as I replayed the details I’d observed.

  The goblins weren’t patrolling, not in the traditional sense, but their movements had a pattern—a crude routine born of efficiency rather than caution. The beheading goblins never strayed far from the moat, their focus entirely on the gruesome task at hand. The corpse carriers moved back and forth from the edge to the pyre, their paths predictable as they ferried their grisly cargo.

  And the bodyguard didn’t move much at all. Its attention was fixed on the cloaked figure, its sharp gaze only occasionally sweeping the clearing, its job clear: protect the shaman at all costs.

  That was the keystone of their defense—The Shaman.

  If I could take it out, the ritual would collapse, no matter how much blood they’d poured into those cursed runes. But getting to it wouldn’t be easy, not with its personal bodyguard and the rest of the goblins so close.

  “Alright,” I muttered, my voice low and steady as I tightened my grip on my swords. “Let’s figure this out.”

  The beheading goblins were the easiest to deal with first. They were isolated, their attention fixed entirely on their work. If I could take them out quietly, I could disrupt the blood flow to the ritual and buy myself a little time.

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  The corpse carriers were next. They were closer to the pyre, but their predictable movements gave me an opening to strike without drawing too much attention.

  And then the shaman.

  Taking out the bodyguard would be tricky, but if I timed it right, I might be able to catch it off-guard. The shaman’s focus on the ritual left it vulnerable—if only briefly.

  I exhaled slowly, the weight of the plan settling over me like a cloak.

  “Fast and clean,” I whispered, steadying the flow of Exira through my body. The energy coursed through my veins, sharpening my senses and calming my nerves. “No room for mistakes.”

  And a lot of what ifs…anything could go wrong…haaa let’s do this

  The energy around the ritual pulsed again, a violent ripple that sent a faint tremor through the ground beneath my feet.

  My jaw tightened.

  “Time to move.”

  The hum of Exira was steady, coursing through my veins like a river of energy, sharp and focused. As I crouched low, stretching my arms and rolling my shoulders to loosen up, I could feel the warmth of it settling into every muscle, every nerve, grounding me in the moment.

  The chants still pressed against my mind like claws scraping at the edges of my thoughts, but with Exira at level 1 peak, their influence faded into background noise—a constant hum that I could ignore.

  “Fuu,” I exhaled, closing my eyes briefly as I centered myself.

  There was no longer a strain from maintaining this level of power. The battles, the tension, the constant use of Exira—it had hardened my tolerance, made my body a vessel more capable of handling its demands.

  The armor on my body began to hum faintly as I directed the energy into it, activating its effects to their fullest. The faint pulsing pattern of veins etched into the bone shimmered softly, an extension of my will. I felt lighter, faster, sharper.

  “Alright,” I muttered, the corner of my mouth lifting into a faint smirk as I gripped the hilts of my swords. “ Let’s not end up crippled or worse…okay Lexi… ”

  hhuuu

  The air around me stilled as I dashed forward, my movements swift and silent under the cover of the shadows. The trees blurred past me, their dark trunks streaked with flickering red light from the pyre ahead. The energy building at the ritual’s center was suffocating now, bending space and drawing everything toward it like a whirlpool.

  But I wasn’t focused on that. Not yet.

  My eyes locked onto the two goblins tasked with beheading the hypnotized prey. Their blades rose and fell with mechanical precision, completely absorbed in their bloody work.

  The memory of the lizard den flickered in my mind—the raw, chaotic rush of energy as I slammed my way through their elites. That same reckless aggression surged through me now, begging to be unleashed, but I forced myself to breathe. To slow down.

  This wasn’t the time for brute force.

  I closed my eyes briefly, channeling Exira with precision rather than power. A sharp, lance-like shape formed in my mind, its edges honed to a deadly point. With a mental command, I directed it forward, visualizing its path as clearly as if it were a physical weapon in my hand.

  The pressure in my mind increased as the construct shot toward the goblins, invisible but deadly.

  When I opened my eyes, it was just in time to see the two goblins jerk violently, their bodies stiffening before crumpling to the ground like puppets with their strings cut.

  I exhaled slowly, feeling a faint sting of strain at the edges of my mind. The mental effort of crafting the lance and directing it with such precision wasn’t something I was used to yet, but it had worked.

  “That went well…” I murmured, straightening slightly as I prepared to move again.

  But before I could take another step, my senses flared in warning.

  I ducked instinctively, twisting to the side as something sharp whizzed past me, embedding itself into the ground with a wet thunk.

  A spear.

  Not just any spear.

  The weapon was formed entirely of blood, its crimson surface glistening unnaturally in the firelight. The ground beneath it sizzled faintly as if the weapon itself carried some corrosive energy.

  My heart pounded as I looked up, my gaze locking onto the source.

  The shaman’s head was turned toward me now, its hooded face still obscured, but the intensity of its attention was unmistakable. I could feel its gaze, heavy and suffocating, like an iron grip tightening around my chest.

  “Well, shit,” I muttered, my grip tightening on my swords.

  The shaman raised its staff slowly, the bleached skull atop it glowing faintly as it began to chant again. The sound was sharper now, more focused, and I could feel the weight of its power honing in on me.

  It had found me.

  “Alright, you bastard,” I said, shifting into a defensive stance as I prepared for whatever came next.

  “You’re gonna be sorry you messed with great Alexis of House Drakesier“

  HOUSE OF END DISCORD

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