Lumberling's chest rose and fell with the remnants of battle, his aura still wild and sharp. When his gaze snapped toward the newcomers, Gordon, Garrick, and Thalia all stiffened. The weight of his killing intent rolled over them like a stormfront.

Gordon instinctively shifted his stance, Garrick's knees nearly buckled, and even Thalia's expression flickered for an instant before she steadied herself.

"Lady Thalia," Lumberling said, his voice edged with surprise. "I didn't know you could fight too."

His eyes roamed over her lightly armored form, the twin daggers glinting in her hands, and the faint heat shimmering around her aura. It wasn't just for show, she was a True Knight.

Thalia tilted her head slightly, lips curving into a calm smile. "And I didn't know you could defeat a Knight Two, Lord Lumberling."

The words made Gordon's mouth fall open. His battered frame shook as he tried to process what he had just witnessed. A young… no, this man… felled a Knight Two.

Meanwhile Garrick's face darkened with shame. He remembered his own bold words earlier, telling Thalia to stand back and let him handle it, only to nearly die if not for her intervention. And now, standing before them, Lumberling's presence felt monstrous. A reminder of the gap that had opened between them.

Lumberling blinked, his tension easing. "I thought you stayed with Viscount Lireath"

"Things happened, Lord Lumberling," she replied, her voice smooth but carrying weight.

'She must have seen something and followed,' Lumberling thought, though he kept it to himself.

Thalia stepped forward, twirling one dagger in her hand. "Then let us fight side by side."

Lumberling's lips tugged into a half-smile. He gave a simple shrug. "Fine by me."

That moment marked the turning point. With the Sengolio's True Knights slain, their army faltered, their formations crumbling without powerhouses.

Together, Lumberling and the others surged forward to rally their side.

For the first time, Lumberling saw Thalia truly fight. Her movements were like flowing silk, daggers flashing in her hands as she weaved white fire into shimmering veils of cloth that lashed and sliced with precision.

'Is that magic?' Lumberling frowned as he watched the white fire coil along Thali's blade. 'No… there's no mana in it. Then… divine power?'

She danced across the battlefield, moving with an uncanny sharpness, it was as if she could see her enemies' strikes a heartbeat before they came, slipping past them with effortless grace, much like Vaenyra's fighting style.

For a heartbeat, Lumberling almost forgot the battlefield around them. To see Thalia fight was to watch fire take from. He smirked faintly. Perhaps she was more dangerous than he had given her credit for.

...

Meanwhile, Lumberling's spear darted like lightning, sparks flew around him, each thrust finding a gap in armor, each sweep clearing space around them.

Together, their rhythm was seamless, Thalia's daggers weaving traps and openings, his spear piercing through them with precision.

"Keep up, Lord Lumberling!" Thalia teased lightly, a grin flashing across her face as her dagger slipped past a knight's guard and ignited him in white flame.

Lumberling smirked, spinning his spear to knock aside a blade aimed for her back. "I could say the same, Lady Thalia."

Behind them, Gordon fought with stubborn grit, his sword stained and his armor battered but his steps steady. Garrick, though pale and wounded, still forced himself into the fray, his sword cutting into enemies, giving their soldiers cover.

Their push didn't stop at the battlefield's heart. Together with their forces, they surged toward the Sengolio encampment, where tents burned and panicked soldiers scattered. Lumberling's spear tore through barricades, while Thalia's fire consumed supplies and siege engines.

As they swept through the camp, Lumberling caught glimpses of his own captains, Skarn and the others rampaging like unleashed beasts. The goblin and kobold commanders darted through enemies, while Garrick's Church soldiers and Gordon's men watched in awe.

For many, it was the first time they truly realized, even without True Knights joining them, Lumberling's monster army was terrifying. When their Lord had not yet joined the fray, these creatures had already torn into the Sengolio lines like a flood.

By dusk, it was over. The battlefield was silent save for the crackle of flames and the groans of the dying. The Sengolio army was gone, slain to the last, save for a few stragglers fleeing into the hills. None of them looked back.

Lumberling and the others regrouped near the center of the ruined camp. His captains had dragged in captives, six trembling Knight Apprentices and one bloodied Quasi-Knight, still alive but bound by black iron chains.

The Church soldiers who marched past cast them wary looks. Whispers spread among them.

"Why keep them alive…?" one muttered.

"Slaves?" another whispered, disgust mixing with fear.

"Don't question it," a third warned sharply, glancing at Lumberling's bloodstained spear and the heavy aura that clung to him.

No one pressed further. Not after what they had seen, Lumberling's forces were as ferocious as they were strange.

Lumberling caught the whispers, the unease in their eyes. To them, slavery was abhorrent. To him, it was simple, captives were resources. Their fear didn't matter, results did.

Gordon wiped his blade clean and gave a heavy sigh. "It's done. Sengolio has no foothold here anymore."

Lumberling planted his spear into the ground, surveying the burning horizon. His face was calm, but his eyes were sharp. Captives meant essence. Captives meant opportunities. And unlike the others, he had no intention of wasting such valuable prey.

Just as Lumberling strode through the camp to check on his soldiers, a commotion broke out near the center ranks. Shouts of surprise and awe echoed, drawing his attention.

He pushed through the gathered warriors, and then he saw it.

Aren.

The hobgoblin's body trembled, veins glowing faintly as his muscles swelled and his frame stretched taller, broader. His aura thickened like a storm pressing down on everyone nearby. The air itself seemed to grow heavy as bones cracked and skin shifted, until the transformation settled.