The air at the center of the village felt heavy—not because of the smoke, nor the dried blood.
The mere presence of the enormous Pigman created pressure.
César stepped forward, wildly circulating mana and Aura through his body, preparing for battle.
The massive Pigman slowly opened his eyes.
He did not rise immediately.
He looked at the goblin who dared challenge his clan, narrowed his eyes dangerously, and released an overwhelming pressure that forced César to halt for a few seconds.
"So… you've arrived," he growled, his deep voice distorted, as if it resonated through more than one throat. "The little goblin who dares defy the destiny forged by the gods."
César frowned, wondering what he meant. For a brief moment, he suspected that the god had already been informed of his presence. But he quickly dismissed the thought, assuming the Pigman was spouting nonsense. Still, out of caution, he asked,
"Oh? Then tell me, esteemed Pigman… what destiny are you talking about?"
"All should kneel before God," the Pigman replied coldly. "Yet you fools still raise your weapons against Him, even after He offers such precious gifts—gifts that could elevate you to heights you would never dare dream of. You would no longer need to envy the dark elves and the lycanthropes for their mana system."
As he spoke, his gaze shifted toward the fruit.
His eyes gleamed with greed as he looked at the blood-red fruit floating above the altar, pulsing slowly like a beating heart.
The Pigman leader—the King—rose to his feet.
He was gigantic. Symbols were carved into his flesh. Monstrous crystals were embedded deep within his muscles, glowing with a sickly light. The mana surrounding him was dense, heavy, suffocating.
The Pigman noticed César's greedy gaze and scoffed.
"That fruit… is not for you, little goblin," the Pig King said mockingly. "It is a gift from God—to His greatest and first follower."
César exhaled slowly. A faint smile formed on his lips.
"Hey, big brother Pigman, that's not for you to decide," César replied sarcastically. "Who would've thought our great Pig King would be so naïve? I assumed that as a king, you'd understand the law of strength. The strong take everything. And as far as I'm concerned…"
His eyes sharpened as he licked his lips, revealing a feral grin.
"That fruit belongs to me now."
His tone was openly mocking.
The Pig King felt a surge of rage. That insignificant goblin dared mock him?
He roared for the first time.
The ground trembled.
Without waiting for another word—
The Pigman King attacked.
Though he sensed the goblin before him was different, he still did not take him seriously. But the insult alone was enough.
He struck with absolute force, charged with monstrous mana.
The blow crashed down like a collapsing mountain.
César reinforced his body with Aura and leapt backward just in time. The impact shattered part of the altar and sent debris flying outward in a violent shockwave.
César reactivated his Aura and attacked with full force, holding nothing back. He knew he didn't have that luxury.
His Aura Core spun fiercely, feeding every muscle and nerve. His body glowed faintly, the flow stable and controlled.
"So that's it…" the Pigman spat. "Not mana. Not monstrous mana. I don't know what it is—but it's something a pathetic goblin like you should never possess. No matter. I'll defeat you and make you hand over that power."
Seeing the Aura surrounding César, the Pigman felt greed stir within him. It felt slightly more brutal… more primal than mana.
He charged again.
This time, César did not retreat.
He slid forward, letting the Aura guide him—reading movement, predicting intent.
Fist met claw.
The collision was brutal.
César was thrown several meters back, rolling across the ground before forcing himself upright. Pain shot through his body, but he suppressed it.
"You're strong," César admitted.
Then his expression turned mocking.
"But you rely too much on what was given to you. Pathetic. I bet you hit a bottleneck long ago. Maybe your god abandoned you."
'Maybe I'm not stronger than him,' César thought calmly, 'but everything I have… I earned.'
It was like two players facing off—one who had grinded through every level, and another who bought a powerful account without ever learning how to use it.
The Pig King laughed angrily.
"And you didn't receive anything?" he snarled.
He had noticed it—the strange energy, and also the mana. Something only dark elves and lycanthropes controlled.
To him, it was impossible.
The Pigman King activated the monstrous crystal embedded within his body.
Monstrous mana erupted outward like an explosion, sending chaotic shockwaves through the air.
His form distorted slightly—muscles swelling, veins bulging, eyes glowing with madness.
"I am the future king! I will rule this world! I am chosen! I am the apex of the food chain!"
César closed his eyes briefly.
And focused his Aura.
He did not expand it.
He compressed it—into a single point.
When he opened his eyes, he advanced.
Each step precise.
Each movement efficient.
César's battle tactic revolved around four things:
Evade. Strike. Retreat. Strike again.
Small, relentless attacks—each aimed at the points where the Pigman's mana overflowed without control.
César didn't rely on Aura alone. He began integrating mana into his attacks.
With two cores, he turned the fight into a battle of attrition.
Over time, the Pigman King began to falter.
His blows slowed.
One step too slow.
One strike slightly off.
"ENOUGH!" the Pigman roared.
Realizing the battle would only worsen, he decided to end it in a single strike.
He gathered all his mana into one final attack.
César felt the danger.
Then he smiled.
"This ends here."
He activated his entire Aura Core.
Abandoned defense.
And struck with everything.
The impact was deafening.
When the dust settled, the Pigman King was on his knees.
The monstrous crystal within his body shattered from overload. The mana veins connecting to it ruptured violently.
Even on the brink of death, the Pigman refused to accept defeat.
"Impossible…" he whispered, resignation filling his voice. "God… chose me…"
César approached calmly.
"I'll tell you a secret, since you were a worthy opponent. Listen carefully."
His tone was cold, edged with sarcasm.
"The gods don't choose. They use. And you… were never truly useful."
With a final, precise strike, the Pigman's head rolled across the ground. Even in his eyes, disbelief lingered.
At last, the headless body of the Pigman leader collapsed.
Silence fell.
César turned toward the fruit.
The air changed.
The world itself seemed to freeze.
A pressure descended upon his mind—not physical, but spiritual.
A voice echoed—not in his ears, but in his soul.
"Interesting…"
Just hearing it placed immense pressure on César. His mana veins and Aura pathways strained as if about to tear apart.
He clenched his teeth, resisting.
"So it's you," he said quietly. "The Evil God."
Though he appeared fearless, his thoughts betrayed him.
'Damn… am I going to die here? I haven't lived enough of my second life…'
But he noticed something.
The god had not acted.
Perhaps—just like the Pigman King—it assumed César had a god backing him. And out of caution, it hesitated.
The presence laughed softly.
"That fruit was my gift. Intended for my herald."
Despite the fear, César took the risk and extended his hand.
"Sorry," he said, forcing calm into his voice. "The law of the jungle says it's mine now."
"You do not fear me," the voice whispered with interest. "Very well. I am curious, little goblin. What god stands behind you and gives you the courage to face me? But remember this—no matter who supports you, taking what belongs to me is never easy."
César grabbed the fruit.
"I'll keep that in mind. I'll inform my lord."
And without hesitation—
He bit into it.
The taste was overwhelming—slightly bitter, slightly spicy.
Before he could fully process it—
Power surged through him.
Not wild.
Not chaotic.
But deep.
Spreading like roots anchoring into soil.
Something changed within him—quietly.
The Evil God fell silent.
Then spoke once more.
"Let us see… how far you go, little goblin. I hope you entertain me."
The presence faded.
César remained standing, breathing steadily.
He had won.
But he knew—
This was not the end.
It was the beginning.