CHAPTER 207: CULMINATION

He moaned weakly when his eyes found me, and no words followed, just a faint sound that was more breath than voice.

He couldn’t even speak anymore

I couldn’t even muster hatred anymore. Only pity.

I’d already accepted there was no saving him the moment he let that black corruption take over. Whatever Jael had become back there—it wasn’t him. And now, even that twisted version had been burned out completely. What was left was nothing more than a body waiting to die.

No potion, no healing skill, no miracle would change that. His life was slipping away second by second, the light behind his eyes dimming as the minutes passed.

He was going to die slowly, painfully.

And for all the destruction he’d caused, I didn’t see the point in letting that happen.

The least I could do—for him, for myself—was to make it quick.

I drew [Gravefang] from its sheath.

The blade hummed faintly in my grip, its edge catching the faint glint of sunlight filtering through the clouds.

Jael’s gaze flickered toward it. And then, for the first time since the fight began, his eyes softened—not in fear, but in recognition. Acceptance.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t struggle.

He just exhaled weakly, the corners of his mouth twitching into something that might’ve been a ghost of a smile—or maybe just the body’s last attempt to move.

Whether I wanted to admit it or not, Jael was the reason I now stood where I was—a bearer of power I hadn’t even known existed before this fight. He had pushed me further than I’d ever been pushed, forced me to face the truth that there were things out there far greater, darker, and infinitely more terrifying than me or this world itself.

He’d opened my eyes.

And that realization came with a harsh truth—I couldn’t afford to relax. Not now. Not ever.

I tightened my grip on [Gravefang], the blade pulsing faintly with void energy as I lifted it above him. For a moment, I hesitated—not out of mercy, but out of respect. Then I drove the blade down, straight through his chest.

The steel pierced cleanly, sinking deep until the hilt met bone. Jael’s body jolted, his eyes widening as a sharp gasp escaped his lips—one last flicker of life clinging to him before the light behind his gaze faded completely. His limbs went still, his breathing stopped, and the faint tension in his face eased into silence.

Then he slumped, dead.

The blade hummed once, faintly, before I pulled it free.

A soft chime echoed through the air.

Ding!

[You have killed Level 57 Goblin Chief: Jael the Withering]

[You have leveled up]

[You have leveled up]

[You have leveled up]

[You have received +3 to all stats]

[You have received +9 free stat points to distribute]

[You have received all of the Chosen’s skills]

[You have received all of the Chosen’s kill count]

The usual wave of notifications rolled in—familiar, satisfying, the kind of system chime that marked the end of a fight and the start of another step forward.

But then... another window blinked open, this one different.

The tone was sharper.

The light brighter.

And the message made me freeze.

[Congratulations. You have met one of the requirements to participate in the King’s Game.]

[Information concerning it is now available.]

[Complete the remaining requirements to be fully eligible.]

[Time left until the King’s Game begins: 2 weeks.]

Requirements:

– Chosen must have a kill count of more than 50.

– Clan of the Chosen must have at least 100 goblins.

– Clan of the Chosen must have 20 goblins above level 20.

– Clan of the Chosen must include five or more Chosen.

– Defeat a current competitor who has secured their place and claim their spot.

[Requirements met: 1 out of 5.]

For a few seconds, I just stared at the glowing text, my mind blank. Then my expression slowly shifted from disbelief to something else entirely.

Excitement.

A grin spread across my face before I even realized it, the kind that pulled at the corners of my mouth until my cheeks hurt. My pulse quickened, not from fear this time, but from pure, unfiltered thrill.

The King’s Game.

The name alone was enough to stir something deep inside me.

This—this was what I’d been waiting for.

An answer. A clue.

Something bigger than just surviving another day.

Finally, a piece of the puzzle behind what this world really was and why the hell I’d been thrown into it in the first place.

I swiped my hand through the air, and the interface expanded instantly, unfolding into a larger screen filled with streams of golden text.

The King’s Game:

A competition reserved for the Chosen—those marked by fate, power, or circumstance—who manage to meet the necessary conditions. Each qualified candidate will face others like them, clashing until only one remains standing. The victor will earn the right to claim the title of Goblin King, a title that transcends mortality and grants dominion over this world itself.

As King, one ascends to the role of Overseer—the god and guardian of this realm. The Overseer’s duty is to manage the flow of life and death, guide the evolution of civilization, and elevate the world’s rank within the cosmic order by harnessing core resources gathered from other realms. They are the balancing force between chaos and creation, the final authority over what thrives and what perishes.

And in return...

In return, the victor gains something one could ever dream of—divine ascension.

An Overseer answers only to one being: Lord Drugar, the Supreme Architect, the entity who governs countless worlds and grants rebirth to those deemed worthy. Under His command, an Overseer becomes one of His generals, wielding unimaginable power, authority, and access to the higher dimensions of existence.

In every sense, this is the ultimate prize.

This is your chance to rise—to ascend beyond the chains of mortality and become something far greater than a flicker of life in the endless cosmos. Do not take this opportunity lightly.

I read every line slowly, carefully, letting each word settle into my mind like a stone sinking into deep water. And when I reached the end, a...