CHAPTER 53: CHAPTER 52

Later that afternoon, Lumberling approached the training yard where the soldiers were drilling with spears. A sharp whistle pierced the air—Vakk’s voice, calling out commands. His stance was tight, precise. Focused.

But Lumberling noticed how Vakk’s eyes drifted toward Skarn—now a hulking berserker—who was overseeing a group of boar cavalry nearby. The envy was subtle, buried beneath discipline, but it was there. A flicker. A hunger.

Lumberling crossed his arms and watched. ’He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t complain. But I see it. That fire... I’ve seen it before.’

’There was this junior engineer in my old life. Always overlooked, but he stayed late, asked questions no one else cared about. Ended up running his own firm ten years later.’

’Vakk reminds me of him.’

By nightfall, a knock came at his door.

"Come in."

Vakk entered, standing stiffly in the doorway. "Good evening, my Lord. Is there something you require of me?"

"Have a seat," Lumberling said, gesturing to the chair across from him.

Vakk hesitated but obeyed, shoulders tense.

"You probably already know this," Lumberling began, "but all of the other captains—have already reached their second evolution."

Vakk stiffened. Shame settled into his eyes like a shadow. He lowered his head.

"I understand. I’m not worthy of this role. I’ve failed to keep up. If it pleases you... appoint Gorrak in my place."

He clenched his fists, unable to meet his Lord’s gaze.

But Lumberling only sighed. "It seems you’ve misunderstood me."

"Huh?"

"You’re more suited to being a captain than Gorrak. Evolution alone doesn’t make a good leader. You’ve shown judgment, loyalty, and the ability to command under pressure. What you lack in raw talent, you make up for with effort—and heart."

Vakk looked up, stunned.

"I have a way to help you evolve," Lumberling said. "A reward for your loyalty and your diligence. Starting tonight, we’re going on night hunts. Just the two of us."

Vakk’s eyes widened. For a second, he was speechless. Then he dropped to one knee.

"My Lord, I swear upon my life—I will never let you down again."

Lumberling nodded once, approving.

"Good. Now get your gear. We start the hunt tonight."

As Vakk passed by the fire pit with his gear slung over his shoulder, Jen turned toward him, holding Lumberling’s hand.

She whispered, "Is he going out with you?"

"Yes," Lumberling said. "He’s going to learn how to become stronger."

Jen stared at Vakk for a moment and then gave him a small, nervous nod. "Come back safe... okay?"

Vakk blinked, caught off guard. Then slowly, he nodded back.

"...I will."

.....

The forest was quieter at night, but not silent. Branches creaked. Insects hummed. Somewhere in the dark, a predator howled—not a wolf this time, but something deeper, slower.

Lumberling knelt behind a fallen log, motioning for Vakk to do the same. The faint glow of the moon filtered through the trees, casting silver shadows across the mossy earth.

"There," Lumberling whispered, pointing toward a hulking shadow drinking from a stream. "Briarback boar. Thick hide, poor eyesight, unpredictable charge pattern. How would you approach?"

Vakk narrowed his eyes, studying the terrain. "High ground to the left. I flank from the bushes, keep downwind. Aim for the legs first."

"Good. Now go."

Vakk nodded and crept away into the underbrush. His breath was calm, steps deliberate. His old self might’ve rushed in, eager to prove something. But now—he thought before moving.

The boar snorted and looked up, its nostrils flaring—but it was too late. Vakk burst from the thicket, axe in hand, and struck low at the beast’s hind legs.

The boar squealed in fury and spun, tusks flashing like curved daggers—but Vakk rolled under the wild swing, his axe already raised for a finishing blow.

Just as he swung, a voice cut through the tension.

"Wait."

Lumberling emerged from the shadows, calm and precise. In one fluid motion, he stepped beside the wounded beast and drove his spear deep into its chest. The boar convulsed once... then went still.

Vakk blinked. He saw nothing—no light, no smoke—yet something shifted in the air. Lumberling stood still for a few seconds, as if drawing in a breath only he could sense. Then, Vakk felt it: a faint pressure, like warm water running over his skin, and a strange tightness in his chest.

"What was that...?" Vakk asked, eyes wide.

"Essence," Lumberling replied. "The energy left behind when a living creature dies. I can devour it—learn from it."

Vakk watched in awe as the mist funneled into his Lord’s body. Then, without warning, a small wisp broke off and flowed into Vakk’s chest.

He stumbled, his breath catching.

"I’ve given you a portion," Lumberling said. "Feel it. Let it show you how the creature moved, how it lived. Let it strengthen you."

Vakk stood still, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. His entire body trembled—not with fear, but with something more. Heat rushed through his veins like liquid fire, his muscles tensing as if something inside him was tearing free. Veins pulsed along his arms. His skin darkened slightly, the hue deepening as new strength settled into his frame. His eyes glowed faintly for a heartbeat—amber and wild—before fading back to their usual gleam.

His fingers clenched instinctively, then relaxed. Power buzzed beneath his skin—raw, untamed, ancient.

"I... I didn’t know it felt like this."

Lumberling placed a hand on his shoulder. "Get used to it. From tonight on, this is how we grow."

Vakk nodded slowly, still absorbing it all—until Lumberling added with a small smirk, "And good job. You handled that boar cleanly. You didn’t hesitate."

"I wanted to," Vakk admitted between breaths. "But I remembered your words—’Think. Then strike.’"

Lumberling gave a small nod of approval. "You’re learning."

Vakk was quiet for a moment, his voice dropping lower. "I used to think strength was about shouting louder, swinging harder. That if I roared the most, fought the fiercest, others would respect me."

He looked down at his hands—cracked, calloused, and still faintly bleeding. "But now... I just want to be useful. I want to protect. Like you do."

Lumberling didn’t answer immediately. He let the silence hang for a moment.

Then, quietly: "That’s when you’re strongest, Vakk. Not when you’re trying to prove yourself... but when you know exactly why you fight."

Vakk nodded, slower this time, his eyes reflecting something steadier—not fire, but resolve.

And beneath the star-speckled sky, the two of them made their way back toward the village. Not just as teacher and student—but as warriors, walking the same path toward something greater.

.....

Three weeks later.

The moon hung low over the forest, casting pale light over twisted roots and shifting shadows. Lumberling’s gaze fixed on the clearing ahead where a trio of dire wolves prowled near a shallow stream.

Beside him, Vakk was silent, his breath calm, axe steady.

"You take the two on the right. I’ll draw the big one," Lumberling whispered.

Vakk gave a small nod. Then, like shadows pulled from the earth, they moved.

The fight was swift but brutal—fang against steel, growls cut short by splashes of blood. Vakk danced between the wolves, his axe flashing, his movement crisp. One wolf lunged; he pivoted and slammed his shoulder into its ribs, driving his blade through its throat in a clean finish. The second lunged too late.

From across the field, Lumberling drove his spear into the last wolf and activated his Essence Weave. The faint shimmer of energy peeled from the corpse like rising mist.

"Come," he said, waving Vakk over.

Vakk approached, panting and bloodied, and knelt without hesitation. Lumberling placed his hand on his shoulder and directed the gathered essence into him.

A moment passed.

Then it hit.

Vakk’s body tensed. He fell to one knee, clutching his chest. Steam rose from his skin as his muscles tightened unnaturally. His back arched, veins bulging beneath darkening scales. His claws extended. A low, guttural growl escaped his throat—not from pain, but release. A primal energy surged through him, awakening something that had always been dormant.

Light flickered across his eyes. They now glowed faintly—amber and wild.

Lumberling stepped back, watching carefully.

Cracks formed on the surface of Vakk’s armor as his body grew, just slightly—his frame broadening, posture shifting. His breathing slowed, deepened.

Then it was over.

Vakk stood. Taller. Stronger. Still himself... but with an edge of something feral beneath the surface.

"I feel like I could tear down a tree," he muttered, his voice deeper, resonating like distant thunder.

"You probably could," Lumberling said with a small smile. "But don’t get cocky."

Vakk exhaled and looked down at his hands—stronger, steadier now. "I don’t feel rage... just power."

"That’s because you earned it. You didn’t chase strength blindly—you fought with purpose."

There was silence for a moment, save for the rustling of wind through branches.

Then Vakk dropped to one knee. "Thank you, my Lord. For this path. For believing in me."

Lumberling didn’t speak right away. He simply offered a hand.

"Get up. The wolves aren’t done yet."

.....

The gates creaked open as dawn’s first light bathed the village in pale gold. Lumberling walked at a steady pace, his cloak stained with dried blood. Beside him, Vakk strode taller than before—his new form unmistakable.

The guards stiffened, then blinked in disbelief.

"Wait—Captain Vakk?" one goblin gasped.

"It’s him! Look at those arms—he evolved!"

Word spread like wildfire. Soon, captains, vice-captains, and curious soldiers poured into the square, forming a half-circle around them.

A low whistle came from Gobo1. "Now that’s a kobold I wouldn’t want to wrestle."

Gorrak folded his arms, grinning. "Took you long enough."

Tarnix elbowed Izzek. "Think his tail got longer too?"

Jen peeked out from behind Old Man Dan, her eyes wide. "He looks like a mini Skitz... but grumpier."

Vakk laughed—deep and gravelly now—and raised a clawed hand in greeting. "Thanks. It feels good."

Then his gaze shifted toward Skarn, who stood silently at the edge of the crowd, arms crossed.

Vakk walked toward him.

"I have something to say."

Skarn raised a brow but said nothing.

"When you evolved... I was jealous," Vakk admitted, eyes steady. "I told myself I was happy for you, but deep down I felt like I was being left behind."

Skarn’s eyes softened slightly.

"But I was wrong. It wasn’t a race," Vakk continued. "We’re brothers in arms. You inspired me to get here. And now that I have... I’ll fight by your side, not behind your shadow."

Skarn looked at him for a long beat... then held out his forearm.

Vakk clasped it.

"Welcome to the berserkers," Skarn said with a rare smile. "Took you long enough."

The soldiers cheered again, their morale lifting with the rising sun. The war wasn’t over—but for now, they had something to celebrate.

Lumberling watched it all in silence, a small, satisfied smile tugging at his lips.