The Unseen Depths

The Birth of a Tyrant

The taste of blood lingered in her mouth, thick and metallic, as Eliana—no, the Orc—stood victorious over the Goblin Lord.

Her transformation had been completed. No longer was she bound by the fragile limitations of a hobgoblin—her body was now forged of war, her muscles layered with monstrous strength, her tusks gleaming under the dim bioluminescent glow of the cavern. The scent of charred flesh and spilled entrails thickened the air, painting the battlefield in shades of slaughter.

The cavern had once trembled beneath the Goblin Lord's monstrous might.

Now, it was silent. Suffocatingly silent.

The goblins—those who had dared to watch, to whisper of her downfall—had vanished into the shadows. They did not cheer for their new ruler. They did not bow. They feared.

And that was what she had wanted, wasn't it?

Her golden, beast-like eyes drifted downward, locking onto the lifeless husk sprawled at her feet.

The Goblin Lord.

A monstrous force whispered about in terror. A tyrant whose rule had lasted for what felt like centuries. A legend that even the bravest of warriors dared not challenge.

And yet… his body lay in ruins. Torn asunder. His skull was crushed under her final, merciless strike, his chest cavity split open, his dark blood pooling like ink, soaking into the cracks of the cavern floor.

This was it.

Her ultimate victory.

But the thrill of triumph did not come.

Instead, an emptiness gnawed at her insides. A hollowness.

She had expected the intoxicating rush of vengeance. Expected to feel satisfaction, power, something. But the cold truth wrapped itself around her like an iron shackle.

This fight—this so-called legendary battle—had been nothing more than a stepping stone.

The realization settled in her bones like a parasite. The Goblin Lord had been strong, yes, but he had fallen. Predictably. Brutally. Just like all the others before him.

Was this truly what she had been fighting for? A throne of dirt and blood? A kingdom of cowards?

A bitter laugh clawed its way from her throat.

"What a joke."

Her fingers twitched, curling into fists. Her claws dug into her own flesh until thick, black-red blood dripped from between them, mixing with the filth below.

She could hear her own breath, steady despite the chaos inside her mind. She was more than this. More than a ruler of vermin.

The tunnels stretched endlessly before her, twisting into the black unknown. She had spent what felt like a lifetime here—enduring, adapting, evolving. But had she truly lived?

Had she become something more than a beast hunting for scraps of power?

A sudden gust of wind howled through the cavern.

A wind that did not belong underground.

Her ears twitched, her predator instincts sharpening in an instant. This was different. Unnatural.

The goblins had scattered, hiding in the dark corners of their crumbling city, unwilling to challenge the monster they had just witnessed ascend.

And in the heart of that eerie silence, a whisper slithered through the darkness.

"Go on, then, child of vengeance."

Eliana's blood ran cold.

The voice did not belong to the goblins. It did not come from the wind.

It came from everywhere. From the stone. From the shadows. From inside her.

Her breath hitched. But she did not turn, did not look over her shoulder.

Because she knew—whatever it was, it was watching.

Ascending Beyond the Dark

Her steps echoed through the tunnels, each footfall stronger, heavier, more resolute.

She was done with this wretched kingdom of filth.

If the goblins wished to worship her from afar, so be it. If they whispered her name in the dark like a curse, let them.

She was not their queen. She was not their god.

She was something far, far worse.

Her hunger for power burned brighter than ever, but this time, it was no longer shackled to the meaningless conquest of lesser creatures. No.

Her true war awaited beyond these tunnels.

The surface world.

It had forgotten her name. Forgotten the daughter of the noble house they had cast aside, the girl who had once been nothing more than a pawn in a grander game.

But she remembered.

The betrayal. The cruelty. The injustice.

And now, she would carve her name into history the way she knew best.

With blood.

A deep growl rumbled in her chest, her monstrous body thrumming with new power as she surged forward.

Faster.

Stronger.

The walls blurred past her as she ran, a predator unleashed, no longer confined to the shadows. The once-cramped tunnels now felt too small for her ever-growing strength.

She needed more.

And she would take it.

A distant glow began to appear at the end of the tunnel.

Moonlight.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, she would see the sky again.

And the world above would soon learn—

Lady Valerius had returned.