He stepped forward to the charred remains—and that's when the blue transparent screen slid into his vision.
New species detected.
Scanning…
New skill acquired – Healing Through Battle.
Description: Converts inflicted damage into proportional regeneration. The greater the harm dealt to enemies, the faster the user recovers. Efficiency increases when targeting living, hostile entities. Passive activation.
Riven only saw him staring at the ashes, expression unreadable.
Without a word, they began cutting the ears from the dead goblins. Fifty pairs went into a bloodstained bag.
The surviving prisoners were freed—some limping, some barely able to stand. Among them was a female elf, tall, silver-haired, eyes sharp despite her exhaustion. There was a quiet dignity in her bearing, the kind that made Auren's mind turn over with possibilities.
He pulled a clean cloth from his inventory and walked to her. "Your name?"
"Lyara," she said, voice soft but steady.
"Wear this," he told her, handing the cloth. "You're coming with us."
She obeyed without hesitation, slipping the fabric over her battered form before stepping beside him. Her kind were prized for their intelligence and loyalty once bound to a master—Auren had no intention of wasting that.
With the bag of ears slung over Riven's shoulder and Lyara trailing behind, they turned toward the Central. The nest burned behind them, the smell of charred goblin flesh following like a shadow.
---
The road back to Central wound through a dying forest, the charred stink of the goblin nest still clinging to their clothes. Riven walked ahead with the sack of ears, the weight dragging at his shoulder. Auren hung back, letting the distance grow between them.
Lyara walked beside him—silent, graceful despite the bruises. Her silver hair caught the light like a blade's edge, and her long ears twitched at every distant sound.
Auren's gaze slid over her without shame. The cloth he'd given her was clean, but loose, hanging just enough to hide and reveal in turns. He could see the way her stride carried confidence even after captivity. That intelligence in her eyes wasn't dimmed by trauma—it was sharpening, adapting.
Elves. Always thinking three steps ahead.
And always perfect when bent to serve the right master.
"You're quiet," he said.
"I'm observing," she replied without turning her head. "Trying to understand the kind of man who burns his enemies to ash, then offers a prisoner clothing instead of questions."
Auren's lips curved slightly. "I already know the answers to the questions worth asking. You're alive. You're useful. And you're mine now."
Her steps faltered for half a second before resuming. "You assume loyalty comes that easily."
"I don't assume," he said. "I create it." His tone was low, almost a purr, carrying something dangerous beneath the words. "You'll learn soon enough—I'm not a man who wastes what he claims."
For a moment, the only sound was the crunch of boots on dirt. Riven glanced back once, then kept walking, either oblivious or choosing not to hear.
Auren leaned closer to Lyara, his voice meant for her alone. "You're more than just decoration, elf. I've seen how your kind can track lies like blood trails, slip into places unseen, make men speak their truths without knowing they're doing it. I'll have need of that. Missions will require more than blades… and you'll be my eyes where shadows don't reach."
"And if I refuse?" she asked, her tone sharp but not without curiosity.
Auren's smirk deepened. "You won't. You'll find the rewards worth the price… and the price worth paying." His eyes lingered deliberately on her as he said it, letting the meaning drip like venom.
Lyara met his gaze for the first time, her expression unreadable. But her breathing changed—subtle, quickened—and Auren caught it.
In his mind, the path forward was already drawn:
He would use her mind when it served him, her skill when it saved him, and her body when he desired it. Elves were built for beauty, endurance, and pleasure—a truth their arrogance could never erase. And when she understood just how bound she was to him, that loyalty would be unbreakable.
By the time the Central walls loomed ahead, the air between them had thickened with something unspoken yet undeniable. Lyara walked beside him not like a rescued captive, but like someone already tethered—by curiosity, by fear, and maybe by the faint, unwilling pull toward the man who had burned her captors alive without blinking.
Auren could feel it. And he was patient.
Patience always made the first night taste better.
The massive iron gates of Central loomed like the jaws of some ancient beast. Auren, Riven, and Lyara approached, the heat from the midday sun baking the stone walls. Two guards in polished breastplates stepped forward, halberds crossing to block the way.
"Identification," the older guard barked.
Auren and Riven handed over their IDs without a word. The guard scanned them, grunted, and handed them back. Then his gaze landed on Lyara.
"And hers?"
"She doesn't have one," Auren said flatly.
The younger guard's lips curled. "Then she's not getting in. Rules are rules—no ID, no entry. Especially not for her kind." His eyes flicked to her ears with thinly veiled disgust.
Auren's stare went cold. "Open the gate."
"Not happening."
Before Auren could reply, Riven stepped in, his tone sharp. "Auren, seriously? Why the fuck do you even want that elf bitch with us? We've got the ears, we've got the gold coming—just let her stay outside the walls. She's dead weight."
Auren turned on him so fast Riven actually took a step back. "Dead weight?" His voice was low, dangerous. "You thick-headed little shit, you think I waste time on something without a purpose? She is my fucking future plan. But less-minded idiots like you can't see past the tip of their own cocks."
Riven clenched his jaw but said nothing, his grip on the ear sack tightening.
Auren turned back to the guards, stepping closer until he was within arm's reach. "Did you forget who I am?"
The older guard straightened, forcing a chuckle. "A troublemaker who thinks burning down a goblin nest makes him untouchable?"
Auren's eyes narrowed. "You've got one last chance. Open the door for her… or I'll turn this gate into slag and shove your smoking corpses through the hole."
The younger guard snorted. "Big words, stranger."
Stranger? Did you really don't know what happens with the guard's 2 day ago?