I woke up today feeling uncharacteristically good and decided to check my stats and skills. My status, however, was a surprise.

  Name: Juren Knollen

  Age: 14 Yrs

  Level: 46

  Unused Points: 170

  Hp: 625

  Mp: 12,300

  Mp Regen: 1,069/min

  Str: 8

  End: 9

  Agl: 21x10 = 210

  Int: 98 (+15%)

  Wis: 93 (+15%)

  Con: 4

  Cha: 24

  I stared in disbelief. I had gained 34 levels without realizing it. No wonder I felt great—my stats had skyrocketed. I asked the system how this was possible, and as always, it provided an explanation:

  Level 86 Slaver Spy Killed by Reactive Fire Trap. Gained Exp. 1,778,567 (+20% trap kill bonus).

  Not a bug, then—my trap had killed an actual threat. A slaver spy had been lurking among us, and even Zotherg hadn’t sensed their presence. They must have had powerful skills for concealment. My reactive fire trap had acted as an accidental savior, but it also highlighted a chilling reality: enemies were closer than we’d realized.

  I glanced at my skills menu for reassurance.

  Key Skills

  Axe Mastery: Level 12

  Ax Throwing: Level 4

  Dual Wielding: Level 2

  Elemental Weaving: Level 14+10

  Fire Spells: Level 2+10

  Spell Traps: Level 1+10

  Even my newly learned trap skill had a hidden advantage: thanks to my [True Elemental] title, all elemental magics gained a +10 bonus. That boost had made my fire trap deadly enough to kill a Level 86 spy on its first activation.

  Still, I couldn’t rest easy. Using [Soul Detect], I scanned the surrounding area. Within the village, everyone was accounted for. Extending my senses outward about a quarter mile, I discovered two distinct groups of sentient life forms. One was far beyond the mountain’s other side, while the second was in a small valley near its base.

  I called for an emergency meeting, bringing together my father, Emma, Grillo, Luna, and the village guards. I explained what I had found, and a grim atmosphere fell over the group. My father silenced the rising murmurs by scraping the edge of his sword against a log.

  “We will investigate both groups immediately,” he commanded.

  We split into two teams. The best scouts were sent to investigate the far-off group, while my father, Emma, Luna, and I joined the second team to assess the valley. Luna’s presence alone made me feel marginally safer—despite how terrifying she was.

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  Luna’s reputation as an archer was legendary. She could make even mythical marksmen look like amateurs, using techniques that defied logic. Whether it was spinning arrows mid-flight or curving them around obstacles, her precision was unparalleled. She’d escaped goblin captivity before, even while injured and unarmed, and had since honed her craft further with Grillo’s specialty arrowheads. Luna didn’t just command respect; she demanded it.

  When we reached the valley, it was eerily quiet. A small crevice led into a grey stone clearing, hidden by a waterfall trickling down over the entrance. Luna suddenly stopped, her expression darkening.

  “This is where they took me,” she said quietly.

  We prepared to charge, expecting a den full of goblins, but Emma sprinted ahead, shouting for us to stop.

  Emma had reached the scene first, and when we arrived, she was cradling something in her arms. It was a baby—a high goblin, much like she had once been. My gaze shifted around the clearing, and I saw dozens more green-skinned children of various ages. Some looked nearly as old as Emma physically, but their eyes betrayed their youth and fear.

  It dawned on me then why the “Dark Lesser God” had been so enraged when I broke Emma’s curse. By shattering the curse on her, I hadn’t just freed her—I had broken it for all.

  Chaos ensued. Emma’s commanding presence took over as she began issuing orders. I instinctively obeyed, fetching buckets of water and heating them with my magic. I used [Soul Speak] to communicate with the children, while Emma used her [Red String of Fate] to connect with them. They responded to her kindness and familiarity, clinging to her as if she were their savior.

  On my twelfth trip with water, I saw Emma washing a child in a makeshift tub. Her gentle smile and the glow around her made the scene seem almost holy. It hit me like a lightning bolt: I had seen this image before.

  Memories of my past life flooded in—of Lucille. I remembered her taking care of Trevor with the same grace and warmth. It was her. The realization shook me to my core. All the subtle things I hadn’t noticed before, the way Emma looked at me, the way she carried herself—it all clicked.

  Without thinking, I let the name slip. “Lucille…”

  Emma froze, her hands pausing mid-motion. Slowly, she turned to look at me. “What did you say?”

  Her expression changed as the weight of my words sank in. We stared at each other in silence, the unspoken truth hanging heavily between us.

  Finally, she broke it, her voice soft but firm. “...Took you long enough.”

  Her words carried a mix of teasing and exasperation, but there was also relief. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t even think clearly. My memories of Lucille were a jumbled mess of emotions. How had I not seen it before?

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I managed to croak out.

  Emma—or rather, Lucille—smiled faintly. “I didn’t think you were ready. Besides,” she added with a small laugh, “you’re not exactly the most observant person when it comes to things like this.”

  Despite everything, I laughed, the tension easing slightly. “Fair point.”

  For a moment, the chaos around us faded. It was just the two of us, standing together, connected by the threads of a life we had thought was lost.

  But the moment couldn’t last. The green children needed us, and there was still much to do.

  As Emma returned to comforting the children, I picked up the fallen pail and muttered, “Well, at least one of us is good with kids.”

  Emma glanced back at me, her mischievous smile returning. “You’ll learn.”

  I wasn’t so sure, but for the first time in a long while, I felt like I wasn’t facing the world alone. Together, we would give these children a chance at a future. And maybe, just maybe, I would finally learn to stop being such a clueless idiot.

  How could it be her? I asked myself. All my memories with her flashing before my eyes as if they just happened, but this time I saw from a different angle. I saw all the subtle things she did, the way she looked at me. How could I have not noticed? The answer was simple: I had not thought of her as having gender, but even more so she was a literal saint and celebrity. There were factions of the Catholic church waiting for her soul to pass on before adding her to the ranks of saints. On some level, I must have subconsciously noticed, but I wouldn't have thought myself deserving of her.