The Evolution for Vengeance

The first taste of her power had only whetted Eliana's appetite for more. The intoxicating rush of energy coursing through her veins, the sensation of raw strength bending to her will—it was not enough. She needed more. She needed to control it, to wield it with intent rather than impulse. And so, she began to train.

The goblin city, with its labyrinth of tunnels and ceaseless violence, became her hunting ground and her crucible. Every day was a test of survival, every moment an opportunity to sharpen herself against the whetstone of brutality. She would need to become stronger, smarter, and deadlier if she were to achieve vengeance. The magic—whatever it was—remained erratic, sometimes flaring up in anger, sometimes in fear. But Eliana refused to be a slave to it. She wanted mastery.

Her nights were spent in the shadows, carving out the shape of her new self. She practiced channeling the volatile energy that crackled within her, seeking control. It came in fits and bursts: a sudden surge of force that sent a goblin sprawling, an unexpected heat that seared through her fingers. She learned to harness it, to focus it, to direct it with intent.

But her power was not just magical. Her body responded to her transformation. The change was subtle at first, barely perceptible. Her frame grew leaner yet stronger, her limbs taut with new muscle. Her slouched posture straightened, her vision sharpened, and her movements became more fluid. Her once-dull claws elongated, growing jagged and sharp. The sickly green hue of her skin deepened, its texture hardening like tempered hide. The old Eliana had been weak. The new Eliana was becoming something else entirely.

The First Hunt

She began her purge with the weakest. They never saw her coming.

The first victim was a lone goblin, skulking through the tunnels with stolen food clutched to his chest. He never had the chance to scream. She struck from the shadows, her claws raking across his throat in a single fluid motion. The rush of warmth, the gurgling gasp—it was over before he realized what had happened. As his body collapsed, Eliana felt it again—that pulse of power, that rush of something primal and dark seeping into her bones.

The next were a pair of goblins on guard duty. She observed them from the darkness, waiting, watching. The moment one of them stepped too far from his post, she moved. A flick of her wrist sent a bolt of invisible force slamming him against the cavern wall, his skull cracking with a sickening sound. His companion barely had time to register his death before Eliana was upon him, her claws sinking deep into his chest. She twisted, and his body went limp. More power flooded her. She exhaled slowly.

It was working.

She hunted more aggressively after that, selecting her prey carefully. The small and feeble were the easiest, but they offered little in return. It was the stronger ones that truly fed her transformation, that fueled the beast she was becoming. And the goblins were beginning to notice. Whispers spread through the tunnels. Fear grew in their eyes. The smart ones stayed out of her way. The foolish ones tried to challenge her.

They died just the same.

The Confrontation

And then came Vorn.

A brute of a goblin, larger than most, with gnarled scars marking his body from countless battles. He had been among those who tormented her in the past, relishing in her suffering. He saw himself as a ruler among goblins, enforcing his will through strength and fear.

He saw Eliana's rise, and he decided it needed to end.

The ambush came in the lower tunnels, where the air was thick with the scent of damp stone and rot. Vorn brought three others with him—lesser goblins, but enough to stack the odds in his favor. They encircled her, crude weapons glinting in the dim light.

"Eliana," Vorn sneered. "You've been getting bold. Think you can take whatever you want? Kill whoever you please?" He grinned, revealing yellowed fangs. "You're still just another goblin. No matter how strong you think you are."

Eliana said nothing. She only tilted her head, her dark eyes narrowing.

Vorn made the first move. He lunged, club swinging downward. She sidestepped, effortless. The weapon crashed into the ground, sending cracks through the stone. Before he could recover, she retaliated. A surge of energy burst from her palm, slamming into his side and sending him sprawling. The other goblins hesitated, unsure.

She did not.

Eliana moved like a predator. She caught the nearest goblin by the throat, her claws digging deep. A sharp twist, a snap of bone, and the body crumpled. Another came at her with a dagger—she intercepted his strike, grabbed his wrist, and sent a pulse of raw magic through his body. His shriek cut off abruptly as his flesh withered and blackened, his lifeless corpse collapsing at her feet.

Only Vorn remained.

He scrambled back, rage flickering into fear.

Eliana stalked toward him, slow and deliberate. He swung his club again, but this time she caught it midair with one clawed hand. The strength difference was evident. She wrenched it from his grasp and threw it aside. Then, with an almost lazy motion, she struck him across the face. The force sent him tumbling, his jaw snapping audibly.

He spat blood, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"I—"

Eliana didn't let him finish. She descended upon him, her claws flashing. His cries echoed through the tunnels before they were silenced, replaced by the wet, tearing sounds of flesh and bone. And when it was over, she stood atop his broken form, breathing heavily, her hands slick with blood.

A tremor ran through her. Not of exhaustion. Of change.

Something cracked within her, a deep, resounding shift in her very being. Her limbs ached, her skin burned, and an overwhelming surge of raw power coursed through her. She staggered, but the pain was nothing compared to what was happening to her body.

She was no longer just a goblin. She had transcended.

When the pain subsided, she stood taller, her form more refined. She had grown. Her once-goblin features had sharpened, her musculature more defined, her claws deadlier. The whispers she had heard before had now become deafening roars within the goblin city.

She was no longer one of them.

She had become a hobgoblin.

And she was not done evolving. Not yet.

The hunger for vengeance, for power, would not be sated until she had climbed to the top of this brutal world. Until she had become something the goblins, the overseers, and even Theron would fear.

Eliana had embraced the monster within her.

And soon, the world would tremble before it.