Liel's voice broke through the chaos—steady, sharp, stronger than Piers had ever heard it.
"We can still fight!"
And then Lien, breathless with adrenaline, shouting from the battlefield:
"Master! Give us a boost like you did for Thog!"
Piers let out a slow, tired exhale. Relief. Annoyance. Something in between.
They really don't quit.
Below, the goblins surged as one—like a hive obeying the Titan's mind.
A tide of bodies collapsed over Thog, burying him in a writhing mass of claws and teeth.
For a heartbeat, he vanished.
BOOOOM.
A single shockwave tore outward.
Bodies scattered like shredded leaves.
Thog erupted from the pile—a creature carved from bedrock, heaving, eyes burning with iron fury.
Kings. Emperors. Shamans.
He tore through them with terrifying clarity. It didn't matter.
He crushed them like insects in his palm, spraying green gore across the stone.
Piers's lips tightened.
They're not leaning on me anymore…
But still— I can give them the edge.
Then Luci stepped into his line of sight. Calm. Unshaken. Crimson eyes steady.
"Are you planning to strengthen us again?"
"Yes. That's what's needed right now, isn't it?"
She shook her head.
"No. Please—let us fight with our own strength. If we don't… we'll never grow."
Piers blinked, caught off guard.
"Indeed, Young Master," Mutou intoned,
"Such an opportunity will not repeat itself — to measure our strength against a living tide."
"Yeah, Master! We don't need a boost! My bad—I forgot!" Lien yelled from the fray.
Liel looked like she might protest… but finally nodded, shoulders drooping.
"…Yes, Piers-sama. We will not take your help this time."
Silence stretched for a moment—
Just Piers's gaze sweeping over them, unreadable.
Then—
He laughed. A short, sharp crack of genuine amusement.
Gyuunyuu puffed her chest.
"Yes, Master! Why would they need a boost when the greatest cheerleader is right here?"
She flashed a tiny V-sign over her eye.
Even in the storm of battle… They laughed.
And for a fleeting moment, Piers caught it—Luci's lips curving into the faintest, gentlest smile.
Then—
ROOOAAAR.
The ground shook as a guttural bellow split the air. A colossal shadow loomed—
THAMB!
Thog was hit—
The Titan's strike hurled him into the far wall with a crack like bones snapping.
Stone splintered.
Dust erupted, thick and choking.
For a heartbeat, his hulking frame hung there, a puppet with its strings cut.
Then the silence curdled—
a guttural rumble, deep as a grave collapsing—
and with a violence that split the stone,
He dragged himself free.
The Titan did not pause.
Its command rippled across the horde like a psychic lash.
and the tide hit.
Dozens—hundreds—of goblins swarmed Thog, clawing and biting in a frenzy to bury him alive.
Piers's voice dropped, quiet but absolute:
"Alright. I'll handle the big one. You guys clear the swamp."
"Yes, Master!" they roared.
He rose, stepping onto invisible air. Each Air Walk step sent ripples through the dust-choked sky.
A sudden, icy thought knifed through his mind, beads of sweat prickling across his whole face.
Still, he forced a crooked grin.
"And one more thing!" he called down.
"If I don't kill that Titan in the next sixty minutes—" he flashed a grim grin,
"—we're all going to die!"
A beat.
"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!"
The group screeched in horrified unison.
Now then—focus.
This thing isn't just strong—it's fast.
Smarter than it looks too.
And if it really has regeneration…
His hand flicked. A Terramatic crystal ignited with violent light—he hurled it.
SLAM!
A burst of blinding light.
A smoking crater carved into the Titan's torso.
The smoke cleared.
The wound was already crawling shut—muscles tightening, skin sealing.
Of course. Regeneration that fast…
"Tch. Annoying."
Then, movement.-
Not heavy.
Not clumsy.
Silent. Fast. Wrong.
A blur, cutting the air sideways. Not toward him—past him—flanking.
Behind me.
"Ice Wall—rear!"
Piers twisted, mana exploding behind him.
A jagged wall of frost erupted—
CRACK—THOOM!
The Titan's fist obliterated it, shards erupting outward like crystal shrapnel.
The fractured wall bought him one breath—just enough.
Piers skidded sideways, chest heaving, the shockwave rattling his bones.
"Okay," he panted. "So he's not just muscle.
He learns."
Then his grin turned sharp.
"Good. Then I can stop holding back."
The grin died instantly.
WHAM!
The Titan vanished—
Lightning-fast.
Behind him.
Mocking his earlier feint.
But that wasn't the real attack.
A massive shadow drowned him—
Above.
"Ice Wall—NOW!"
Hand snapping skyward.
SHHHHK!
A blade of ice erupted upward—
But never finished forming.
CRRRRAAACK!!
The Titan's descending fist shattered it mid-creation, spraying half-formed shards like splintered glass.
The impact hit.
BOOOOOOM!!!
The world ripped sideways.
His body became a streak,
Rocketing downward—before slamming into the earth with an earth-shattering force.
Stone cracked.
Dust exploded.
The ground quaked.
Everything stopped.
Everything fell silent.
On the ground, every ally froze. Even mid-swing, mid-spell—every head snapped toward the crater.
Silence rippled outward.
And then—
From the broken earth, the small figure rose.
Faces twisted in horror.
But Piers?
He wasn't shocked. He wasn't broken.
He was pissed.
Pebbles slid from his shoulders as he pulled himself free, tiny feet touching the cracked ground. His frame trembled faintly, but not from pain.
His eyes were shadowed, face veiled in darkness. Behind that veil, a glint.
Cold.
The others saw it. Even in the chaos of their own battles, they felt it—That expression.
That same silent, wicked expression from the night before.
A chill slithered down their spines. No words needed.
They knew.
None dared speak. None dared approach. They turned back to their fights with grim urgency. Whatever that Titan was, terrifying as it seemed… their toddler master in that state was worse.
Piers exhaled slowly, voice low—almost a growl.
"Oh, you want a fight?"
The air thickened.
"Then let's get it done."
He let his mana go.
Shshshhhhhh—A crushing wave of pressure split the air.
The sky dimmed.
The ground groaned beneath it.
Mana flared—raw, unrefined, dominant.
Piers rose, each step carrying him higher until he stood level with the Titan's colossal gaze.
The behemoth didn't move.
Didn't speak.
It simply stared.
Calm. Waiting.
"Now," Piers whispered, lifting his left hand.
"Soul Puppet."
The Titan jerked. Its vast arms shuddered as invisible chains snapped tight, dragging against its will.
Muscles strained, sinew tearing—but it couldn't break free. Not yet.
Piers raised his right arm.
Above him, a ring of Terramatic skull-faced orbs spun into being—each one forged in his mana's fury. Some blazed with molten fire, others gleamed with biting frost.
They screamed silently, their hollow eyes burning with hunger.
His hand swept forward.
FWOOM—CRAAASH!
The barrage unleashed.
Skull after skull streaked downward, detonating in a brutal symphony of fire and ice.
Explosions rolled across the Titan's frame—searing flesh, freezing muscle.
Each blast was merciless, carving open wounds only for its unnatural regeneration to stitch them closed.
But Piers's gaze didn't waver.
Cold.
Void.
Fixed on one thing only.
Not the body.
The head.
That was the plan. That was the weakness.
The storm of skulls rained harder, faster—until suddenly—
BANG!
His right hand exploded.
A flash of blood.
One of the cruel, grinning shamans below had linked to him through the Titan's command—forcing a detonation through the connection.
But his face didn't even flinch.
His flesh was already knitting itself back together, the familiar throb of regeneration a dull echo in his bones.
Pain like this didn't shock him anymore.
The answer was immediate.
He flicked his other hand.
A blazing orb dropped like judgment, slamming into The ground where the shaman stood.
Flames devoured the creature, its shriek cut short as it burned to ash.
His gaze was already back on the Titan.
The giant had stopped straining.
It stood loose now, calm as before—but its aura shifted.
Darker.
Heavier.
Twisted with rage that felt too sharp.
Too deliberate.
And still… it didn't attack.
Wait. Was it shielding its head? A barrier?
Even amidst the chaos, a cold thread of thought cut through.
Is it mimicking? Adapting?
Then—
JUMP!
The Titan's unique skill—Might Stomp.
Before Soul Puppet could even reactivate, the colossal goblin was impossibly high above him, its vast frame blotting out the forest's glow.
Both fists clenched, raised, then crashing down in a double hammer strike.
Piers looked up at the descending mountain, a wry thought flashing in his skull.
"…Oh man, this is gonna hurt a little."
A tiny smile.
KRAAASH
The fists slammed into the earth.
A cataclysm ripped outward. The labyrinth floor split into four parts, dust and stone erupting skyward.
The shockwave swallowed everything, and Piers vanished beneath it.
Across the field—Slaughter
Thog swung the corpses of Emperor Goblins like grotesque flails, sending bodies flying like ragdolls.
Mutou's blade glimmered with ruthless precision—each motion clinical, a surgeon amidst slaughter.
Lien was dancing in pure flow, weaving through bodies like water, martial strikes slicing like blades.
Luci, calm as death itself, spread her shadows wide. Dozens of traps bloomed across the battlefield, each dragging a screaming goblin down into nothingness.
But—Liel.
Her chest tightened. Her steps faltered. That dust cloud where Piers had stood—it gnawed at her. Something felt wrong.
The unease, the helplessness—it clawed at her heart.
Her barrier flickered, her focus splintering.
Her breath hitched.
Amid the endless chaos, her eyes burned with unshed tears.
"Go, Luci! Go, Luci! You got it!"
Gyuunyuu's chirp rang absurdly bright from above, bouncing like some one-girl cheer squad.
A vein twitched on Luci's temple. She didn't even turn—just tilted her head slightly, one crimson eye sliding toward Gyuunyuu.
"Would you shut up," she whispered.
Quiet. Cold. Absolute.
"…eep." Gyuunyuu shrank back, frozen mid-bounce.
"Young Liel!"
Mutou's voice boomed, urgent, as he cut down another shaman near her.
"Defend yourself! A considerable force approaches!"
But she didn't hear him.
His urgent plea was lost in the chaotic symphony of battle—swallowed by guttural roars, steel crashing, and magic surging.
She saw only glimpses: desperate movements, frantic faces, a dance of survival waged second by second.
Her mind splintered into a terrifying void, an empty canvas painted in shades of helpless fear.
And then—a voice.
"Hey… what are you crying for?"
The world stopped.
A spark. A jolt. Her breath hitched.
"P… Piers-sama?" she gasped, hope trembling in her throat.
"Is… is that you?"
"Yes. Stop crying, Liel…" His voice was soft, steady, pulling her back from the edge.
"But you w… were…" The unbearable word caught in her throat.
A chuckle, warm and familiar. Alive.
"…Did you really think one hit could take me down that easily?"
That blend of gentle teasing and unshakable certainty wrapped around her like a shield.
"Stop crying. Now get up—show those goblins what regret really feels like."
In her mind's eye, she saw him—smiling that same fond, frustratingly confident smile.
Her fear melted into something sharper.
Fiercer.
A fire she didn't know she carried.
Her hands clenched.
"Yes!" she cried, voice breaking free.
She swiped her tears away with a fierce motion. One step forward—firm, resolute. Her breathing slowed, steady, deliberate. And then—
The shift.
Mana began to flow from her—spilling outward like liquid light. Gentle at first, then stronger, steady as a candle's flame growing into a lantern's glow.
A verdant aura spread around her hands, not wild but controlled, sharp as purpose.
The air trembled. Everyone felt it.
Something was coming.
Meanwhile, Piers endured the Titan Goblin's brutal, thunderous punches. Blow after blow rained down.
A sharp awareness flared in his mind..
STATUS UPDATE: LIEL
Unique Skill Unlocked: Plasma Bubble
Description: {A formidable sphere of condensed life-energy...}
A green bubble rose—glowing and rippling—from the labyrinth's heart, swallowing the goblin horde.
"It's not enough! Bigger—more!" Liel shouted,
her voice taut with effort.
The bubble expanded—swelling, towering—until it engulfed the entire area. Within seconds, it enveloped the battlefield—shielding Mutou, Lien, Luci, and Thog while sealing the goblins inside.
Something changed.
Their cuts sealed. Bruises faded. Even the weight of exhaustion lifted. The bubble didn't just protect.
It restored.
"Good…" Liel whispered, eyes blazing.
"Now—be crushed."
Her hands clenched.
The dome tightened.
Slowly.
Inevitably.
First came the pops—small, brittle snaps of elbows and knees bending the wrong way.
Then the cracks—sharp, splintering bursts as bones split like dry wood.
Then the wet sounds started.
SKRRRCK.
GRRCH-CHRRRK.
BLLRSHK—
Bodies didn't just break.
They folded.
Torsos compressed until ribs punched through flesh like jagged white thorns.
Spines curled into impossible arcs before rupturing from backs in fountains of green-black blood.
Goblin eyes burst in their sockets, spraying viscous threads across the inside of the dome.
Their screams spiraled into feral hysteria—high, raw, animal.
Then smothered into choking gargles as lungs collapsed under the crushing force.
Some tried to climb over the mass of bodies, only to be flattened—limbs snapping like dry twigs,
"skull caving inward with sick, hollow WHUMPs"
The weaker ones liquefied first, their torsos splitting open as organs ruptured like rotten fruit under a boot.
KRRZSHH—!
A Goblin Emperor's ribcage detonated outward, shards of bone slicing into the bodies around him like shrapnel.
The dome kept shrinking.
Tighter.
Tighter.
Tendons snapped like over-strained cables.
Skin tore in long, ugly ribbons.
A mountain of bodies pressed together until bones punched through muscle, grinding against each other like stone mills.
The last screams pitched into distorted squeals—then cut off all at once as the dome reached its final inches.
CRRRRSHHHH—BRLLLLK!
An entire army collapsed inward.
Not slain.
Not defeated.
Reduced.
The pressure finished its grim work.
Hundreds of thousands of bodies burst simultaneously into a violent cyclone of gore—chunks of muscle, shattered bone, and half-melted organs swirling together into a thick, roiling sludge of green.
Armor flattened like tin, spinning aimlessly within the carnage.
By the time the last nerve twitch faded, the bubble was nearly opaque—stuffed to the brim with pulverized remains.
Then—
Silence.
A thick, slowly churning soup of liquefied goblins swirled inside the glowing green dome.
Everyone outside stared, wide-eyed, hearts hammering, as Liel's newfound strength crushed the battlefield itself.
A hush fell across the battleground.
Liel's chest heaved, her breath ragged.
A single bead of sweat traced down her chin, glinting in the eerie green glow.
Her eyes faltered. The fierce light dimmed.
She swayed once—then dropped to her knees, utterly spent.
And finally, collapsed.
BOOM.
The bubble burst
A tidal wave of green gore exploded outward—an ocean of viscous goblin blood hurtling across the area.
"AEEHHHH!!"
Gyuunyuu shrieked, zipping through the air like a panicked bullet.
She slammed into Lien's back, clawing for safety. "Lien! Do something! We're gonna get soloed by goo!!"
"What?! How the hell am I supposed to stop that?!" Lien yelled, spinning in place, arms flailing like a drowning man.
Luci, deadpan, was already muttering, hands weaving a sigil.
"Don't move. I can keep the mess off us—"
But before she could finish, a massive hand scooped them all up.
Thog.
With a grunt, he leapt—soaring high, the crew clutched in his grasp.
From midair, they watched the tsunami of goblin goo slam into the earth below—painting the ground in rotting green.
On the other side,
The ground quaked with every impact—each Titan Goblin fist slamming down like a falling star. The crater deepened, dust and stone erupting in violent shockwaves.
And yet—
Crash!
An ice wall flared into existence, catching the blow. It shattered instantly, shards scattering like glass.
Boom!
Another wall rose. Shattered. Reformed. Shattered again.
On and on, an endless cycle: destruction met with creation.
There was no hesitation in Piers's movements. No wasted breath. His mana surged like an unbroken storm, shaping wall after wall of glittering frost to meet the Titan's fury.
He wasn't just defending.
He was enduring. Grinding the monster down with sheer, inexhaustible will.
Through the barrage, his mana swept outward, sweeping the battlefield in invisible waves. Searching. Feeling.
And—He found it.
His friends.
Safe, wrapped inside Liel's trembling but unbroken green barrier. Her fear no longer wild, but sharpened into pure, protective force.
Relief flickered across his face—only for an even darker grin to replace it.
"Heh… that's unexpected."
His eyes shifted to the Titan Goblin.
The grin sharpened, venomous.
"Hey, green-ass…"
His voice dropped, cold as frost.
"That's enough."
Mana surged out of him, blunt and brutal.
The Titan reeled back, as if something unseen had slammed straight into its core.
Piers rose.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Ice crackled beneath his feet as he stepped out of the crater. His body was battered, bruised, marked by battle—but his eyes…
Cold. Sharp. Etched with grim creases that promised only peril.
His fingers curled. The world seemed to still.
"Soul Puppet."
The Titan froze. Its massive fists hung in the air, trembling. Its body locked, shuddering violently, caught in his unseen grip. The earth-shaking monster was reduced to a quivering puppet.
"Let's end this quickly," Piers muttered, voice low and final.
"I don't have time to play with you anymore."
His other hand lifted.
A crystal ignited above his palm—rough terramatic core, basketball-sized, dull at first. But as rivers of mana poured into it, the stone pulsed with life, its surface fracturing and glowing. Golden-red light deepened into molten gold, alive and volatile, as if the heart of a dying star had been trapped in his grasp.
Crack—! Lightning sparked across the crystal's surface, wild and hungry. The glow sharpened, the energy twisting, shaping.
From that burning heart, lightning stretched outward, bending, contorting—until his hand gripped not a stone, not a spell—
—but a colossal, searing bolt of lightning.
At its core, the crystal pulsed—thrum, thrum—like a living heart.
What Piers held was no spell.
It was a sentence.
"Let's see what's faster—your barrier, or my bolt."
With a flick of his wrist, Piers unleashed it.
SHEEUUU—NUUULL!
The air itself screamed as the lightning bolt tore through the space between them, a jagged spear of annihilation.
Before the Titan could react—before its barrier could even shimmer into place—the incandescent bolt smashed into its skull.
For a heartbeat, everything stopped.
Then the Titan's head burst—
Not blown apart,
But torn open, chunks of molten bone and vaporized flesh spraying in a violent, grisly halo.
No thunder.
No fire.
Just a brutal, gut-deep THRUM that rippled across the battlefield and stripped the earth bare.
The behemoth's colossal frame didn't heal.
Didn't twitch.
Didn't breathe.
It toppled.
THOOOOM!
The ground shuddered under the weight of the falling giant, dust erupting into the sky.
Dead.
Silence fell—
heavy, absolute—
louder than thunder.
* * *