I moved east, keeping the sun behind my shoulder and the hills to my left. The sealed dungeon of Veldora lay somewhere deep in the Eastern Forest. I knew because I had read the novel. I remembered where Rimuru found the Storm Dragon, where the bonds of names and evolution first began.
The forest grew older as I advanced. Trees arched higher overhead. Roots pushed through the trail like veins. Monsters moved between the shadows: a Rock Lizard sunning itself on a high ledge, a nest of Needle Vultures circling low. None of them challenged me.
By the third day, I heard movement ahead. Branches snapped. Something heavy crashed through the brush. Then came shouting, guttural, sharp with panic.
I followed the sound.
Near a shallow creek, a group of goblins had surrounded a beast. They were unarmed by any real standard, holding sticks, crude rocks, broken bark tied with vine. Their bodies were thin. Unevolved. Wild-eyed and disorganized. Yet they stood together.
The creature in front of them was a Thunder Boar, twice their size, wrapped in thick grey fur and crackling with unstable current. It snorted sparks with every breath, its legs digging trenches in the soil.
The goblins attacked in groups. They tried to flank it. Some leapt on its back, others stabbed wildly. It threw them aside with ease. One was tossed against a tree. Another rolled down the slope, bleeding. They didn't stop.
They reminded me of myself. Weak. Desperate. Fighting without power, just instinct and will.
The boar raised its head and prepared to charge again.
I stepped from the trees.
The magic formed in my hand before they even noticed me. I shaped it fast—a long spear, lean and sharp. It glowed faintly, reacting to the tension in the air.
I threw it.
The weapon flashed through the space between us and buried into the boar's neck. The impact triggered a burst of force, magic detonating from inside. A sharp crack echoed through the trees. The boar collapsed in place, its final charge cut short.
The goblins backed away, startled. One dropped his weapon. Another stared between me and the fallen beast.
They didn't speak, but I saw the fear change to recognition.
One knelt. Then another.
I walked forward and stood over the boar's body. The air was still charged, magic still dispersing through the grass. The goblins didn't move. They weren't worth fearing but they had value.
They had fought together, without command or strength, just like I once did.
I pointed east.
They hesitated. Then followed.
Behind us, far across the ridge, a black shape passed through the trees without a sound. The Greater Fen Wolf stopped once, sniffing the trail. The scent left by evolution still lingered. Its breath steamed in the cold. Its eyes narrowed.
Then it began to run. It found it's prey.