The Evolution Of A Goblin To The Peak

Chapter 1189: Creature within the fog

”You... are?!” Verto’s eyes widened, his voice trembling as he stared at Vashno’s glowing silhouette.

Swoosh!!

A streak of light cut through the battlefield, and a split second later—

Crash!!

One of Verto’s subordinates slammed into the ground beside him, skidding through dirt and debris. Verto flinched, but his gaze never left Vashno.

The truth hit him like a hammer.

”You’re the... Falsified Golden Angel!!” Verto gasped as the memory resurfaced.

”I’ve heard people call me that,” Vashno replied calmly.

He had his other subordinate by the face, fingers digging into the man’s skull. Vashno slowly turned his head toward Verto, golden-purple wings casting a divine yet terrifying glow across his astonished expression.

All around them, the Blood Hunters froze.

Whispers died in their throats. Weapons trembled in their hands. Fear spread like wildfire.

The name Falsified Golden Angel was no small title in these lands.

Two months ago, that mysterious warrior had single-handedly liberated the besieged city of Elmain from the Trinity Fire Gang. Days later, he fought an entire angelic detachment in the storm-ravaged trenches of Carmen Valley. Then he plunged into a newly-formed secret realm and emerged after defeating a squad of fallen angels—alone.

He had battled both sides.

Won some. Lost some.

And each time, he grew stronger, more frightening.

Both angels and fallen angels had attempted to recruit him, but he refused them all.

A warrior who stood between the heavens and the abyss.

A man wrapped in glory, rumor, and contradiction.

And now he stood before them.

Vashno tossed the struggling man in his grip to the ground like discarded debris. Dust billowed.

Then, without warning—

Swoosh!!

He shot toward Verto.

Raven watched from afar, arms folded, her eyes tracking every movement.

’Falsified Golden Angel...’ she whispered inwardly.

No matter how many times she witnessed Vashno fight, he never failed to stun her.

Raven moved like a shadow through the battlefield—eyes sharp, senses stretched thin. She wasn’t just fighting; she was shielding her people, reading every shift in the chaotic terrain. She knew better than anyone that the Blood Hunters weren’t to be underestimated. Verto was only one of their executives... and far from the strongest.

A pulse ran through the ground.

Raven’s eyes widened.

She snapped her gaze downward and shouted, ”Beware! There’s something wrong with the ground!!!”

The earth responded instantly.

The trembling intensified—deep, guttural, like something hungry clawing its way up from beneath the soil. Then,

Boom!! Boom!! Boom!!

The ground ruptured open as dozens of figures exploded upward, silhouettes wrapped in swirling white mist. The fog thickened instantly, rolling across the battlefield like a suffocating tide.

”Damn!” Raven hissed, ripping her dagger free.

She launched herself forward, legs coiling like springs. Her movement became a zigzag blur, darting through soldiers, weaving past attacks, carving through the mist-clad creatures that burst from the ground. Each swing of her blade was clean and merciless.

Heads flew.

Blood fanned across the air in crimson arcs.

Bodies collapsed before they even realized they’d been struck.

Raven halted for a fraction of a second just long enough to glance upward.

A rain of black arrows darkened the sky.

”Those locals!!” she spat.

She lifted her dagger toward the heavens.

A magic circle spun open beneath her feet, glowing with cutting brilliance.

[Barrier Disintegration]!!

A translucent barrier shimmered across the battlefield like a vast dome. The first arrows hit...

Ssshhh—!!

They disintegrated on impact, turning to gray ash that drifted harmlessly to the ground. The barrier swallowed the entire volley, shielding ally and enemy alike from the deadly rain.

Raven exhaled sharply.

If I hadn’t cast that... my people...

There was no time to think.

She blurred forward again, cutting through the creatures and Blood Hunters alike with her dagger flashing like a streak of silver lightning. Wherever she passed, bodies dropped, blood sprayed, and the battlefield cleared.

Within seconds, she had already torn through hundreds.

She fought like a storm given shape, an Eight Shackle Realm powerhouse protecting her own while ripping apart anything foolish enough to stand in her way.

...

On another part of the battlefield, Vashno tore through Verto and his two subordinates. All three were Seventh Shackle Realm warriors—monsters in their own right—but Vashno’s power crushed them like insects caught in a storm.

Bang!!

Verto was sent flying again. He hit the ground hard, bouncing across the dirt before finally skidding to a halt. His body was a tapestry of gashes and bruises. His arms trembled uncontrollably—numb, failing him.

One of his subordinates staggered upright, blood trailing from the corner of his mouth. He wiped it with the back of his hand, raising his weapon again with trembling resolve.

Then the battlefield changed.

The air vibrated—deep, resonant, unnatural.

The white fog thickened abruptly, swallowing shapes and colors.

Ohm!!

A dark mass materialized behind the wounded subordinate—an enormous shadow, towering and shapeless at first... before its features sharpened within the fog.

A maw.

A colossal maw filled with jagged, razor-sharp teeth.

It lunged.

The creature snapped its jaws shut around the man in a single instant.

Crack—!

The space around the bite distorted and fractured, warping as though reality itself couldn’t withstand the force. Blood misted the fog in a thin, horrifying spray.

It was done in less than a heartbeat.

Too fast to dodge.

Too fast to comprehend.

Verto and his remaining subordinate froze, faces drained of color.

Both Seventh Shackle experts stared, wide-eyed, as the massive creature pulled back into view.

A monster that wasn’t there a moment ago.

A monster that shouldn’t exist.

Yet it was there.

And it had just devoured one of them like nothing more than prey.

”What?!”

Even Vashno’s expression twisted in surprise. He’d expected resistance, maybe reinforcements, but not this. Not a creature that tore reality open with a single bite.

The monster lifted its head from the fading mist of blood.

Then...

ROOOOAR!!

Its roar ruptured the air like a shockwave. Winds exploded outward in violent bursts, flattening the nearby trees and sending debris spiraling through the sky. Warriors with lower cultivation buckled instantly—falling to their knees, screaming as they clamped their hands over their ears. The force rattled their bones, threatening to tear their minds apart.

Above them, the very fabric of space cracked, thin fissures spiderwebbing through the air like broken glass.

The battlefield, already a storm of blood and fire, descended into deeper chaos.

Lion’s Fang fought desperately on one side.

The Blood Hunters, shaken and confused, battled for their own survival. The locals of the secret realm loosed arrows from hidden ridges and shadows.

And now this monstrous anomaly—something ancient, something wrong—had appeared without warning.

It didn’t end there.

Across the Great Spirit Continent, other factions who’d entered the secret realm met the same fate. Unknown creatures erupting from the ground. Locals ambushing from the fog. Entire groups overwhelmed before they could react.

This night had become a crucible.

A battlefield where alliances meant nothing—

where enemies, strangers, and invaders alike were swallowed by a threat none had foreseen.

A fight not for victory.

A fight simply to survive.

...

Meanwhile, on Red Crate Island...

Eztein, Doranjan, and Esriel stood at the edge of a tranquil pond. At its center, a tiny island jutted from the water. On it grew a small, strange plant, its unusual green fruit shimmering as if lit from within, radiating a faint, otherworldly glow.

”This is...!” Esriel whispered, drawn forward by the fruit’s intoxicating aroma and the pulse of energy it exuded. ”A legendary-grade...!!”

Eztein’s lips curved into a satisfied smile. ”Our first,” he said, eyes glinting with anticipation.

Doranjan blinked and reappeared in an instant in front of the plant. His hand extended, steady and precise. ”It’s already ripe... Once I pluck it, prepare yourselves,” he warned.

Eztein and Esriel exchanged a serious glance and nodded.

Doranjan’s fingers closed around the fruit. The moment it left the plant, the world seemed to shift. His body exploded upward in a flash, transforming into a giant dragon that clawed through the sky.

At the same time, the pond erupted. Hundreds of lightning bolts ripped through the air, crackling with blinding intensity.

Whoosh!!

The plant itself flared to life, radiating an almost unbearable brilliance. Dozens of glowing runes formed on the small island beneath it, spinning and twisting in patterns that seemed to hum with raw power. The air vibrated, electric and heavy, as if the land itself had awakened to the fruit’s call.

Eztein and Esriel leaped into the air, moving with deadly precision. In unison, they summoned layer upon layer of shimmering barriers, each one stacking over the other. The air thickened, charged with a terrifying aura that rippled outward, blowing the white fog aside as if reality itself recoiled.

Boom!!

Lightning exploded across the pond, jagged bolts flashing like blinding swords. Doranjan, Eztein, and Esriel were engulfed in their searing light, the air screaming with raw energy as electricity danced across the water’s surface.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Explosions erupted where the bolts struck. Doranjan gritted his teeth as a violent force yanked at the fruit in his hand, pulling with a strength that seemed to defy gravity itself. The energy from the plant was alive—hungry.

Doranjan’s eyes flared with determination. He opened his mouth, and a massive concentration of energy began to coalesce in front of him. The air around him warped and crackled, humming with raw destructive power.

Then, with a roar that shook the pond itself, he unleashed it:

[Bestrou]!!

A blazing torrent of energy shot forward like a spear of concentrated light, streaking toward the plant with unstoppable force. The runes beneath the fruit glowed violently, as if anticipating the attack, and the very ground trembled in response.

The clash was inevitable.