Daniel slayed more goblins, but he was getting weaker with each swing of his blade. The Absolute Lightblade pulsed in his hands, still warm with divine radiance, but his grip trembled. There was only so much a five-year-old body could take. His muscles screamed in agony, his bones vibrated from the brutal force of repeated clashes, yet he did not falter. He pushed through the fatigue, letting it drown beneath the resolve in his chest.
The goblins came in waves, a ceaseless tide of green flesh and jagged weapons. He had slain nearly a hundred now, maybe more. He had stopped counting. Their corpses littered the village streets, piling upon each other in grotesque heaps. Blood painted the stone and soil in vivid green, an ocean of gore beneath the burning sky. With each kill, Daniel felt his instincts sharpen. The weight of the sword became more familiar, his movements more efficient, as if his body was remembering a rhythm it had long forgotten.
His rank rose. From D+, he felt the faint click in his soul—C-. His movements were faster, his strikes more refined, but even that wasn't enough. It was never enough.
Elira and Klav lay crumpled to the side, their chests rising and falling rapidly, eyes half-lidded in exhaustion. Elira's hands twitched, threads of Aether faintly glowing before they faded completely. Klav's hands still sparked with frozen mana, but his body refused to rise again.
They were spent. Useless, in this moment. But Daniel didn't blame them. They had given their all. There was a limit to human endurance. Even he—reborn, awakened, blessed—had reached his.
His vision blurred. His lungs burned. His skin tore at the palms where he gripped the blade. The blood soaked into the hilt, searing against the divine light. If he let go now, the friction alone would tear open his skin and expose raw bone. His feet slipped in puddles of blood, his legs nearly folding under his weight.
He pressed on.
It's hurting so fucking much... he thought, gritting his teeth as he stepped over another body. A goblin lunged. Daniel pivoted, slashing upward, bisecting the creature from gut to skull.
But... I can't give up now! He screamed it inside his mind, a battle cry that no one would hear.
Another goblin, this one armored. Daniel ducked its blade, then plunged his sword through its stomach and ripped it out with a twist. The creature vomited blood and collapsed.
He moved to the next. He didn't stop.
The ground was no longer visible. It was layered in green blood, black smoke from burning homes, and the mutilated corpses of monsters. Daniel stood alone in the center of it all, a child wrapped in carnage, his eyes distant and aflame.
The blade grew heavier. His arms were shaking now. Not from fear, not from rage, but from sheer, irreparable exhaustion. His knees buckled briefly before he straightened again, staggering forward.
Another goblin charged. Daniel grunted, raised the sword and cleaved it from shoulder to hip, his legs barely holding him upright as he did.
He couldn't hear anything anymore. Not the cries, not the clash of metal, not even the rasp of his own breath. Everything was numb.
His eyes narrowed, lids drooping. He forced them open again, blinking away blood and sweat. He could see Klav and Elira still breathing, still alive.
Good.
His heart thudded erratically, missing beats. His body gave every warning it could. He ignored them all.
Another goblin. Another cut. More blood. More pain.
He fell to one knee. But the blade never left his hand.
He rose again. Shaking. Bleeding. Screaming silently inside his mind.
Just a few more...
Another goblin, and this one stabbed him in the side. Daniel snarled and ripped its head off with a final swing. He pulled the weapon free from his flesh with a grunt. His vision spun. His ears rang.
He could no longer feel his arms.
More goblins appeared, climbing over the corpses of their kin. The next wave.
His foot slipped. He dropped to both knees, gasping.
No more... please...
But he rose again. The blade dragged in the dirt, glowing faintly now, its light dimming.
He took one step.
Then another.
He raised the sword once more.
But before he could swing, his body collapsed, the pain overtaking even his will. He fell backward, his arms limp, the sword still clutched in his bleeding hands.
Unconscious. Eyes closed. But not broken.
In his final moments, he cried, as more goblins came, one almost stabbing him in the chest. He closed his eyes, thinking it was all over, thinking he had failed once again in protecting his family and the future of humanity.
---
Daniel woke up, his eyes flickering. Slowly, he opened them completely, blinking at the unfamiliar ceiling. He turned his head to the side, seeing his mother and Elira on his left, both asleep. Klav was on his right, his head resting on the mattress, breathing softly.
It was night outside. Dark, still, and cold.
He tried to move. Pain struck him like lightning, locking his muscles and chaining him to the bed.
What happened?
His memories were hazy. The last thing he recalled clearly was Saint Torren, Klav, and him heading to Lord Vayren's estate. Then, fragments—goblins, screaming, fire, blood.
Why does my body feel like this? Why can't I remember?
He tried again to rise, but failed. Then, something echoed in his head.
"Daniel. You are awake."
The voice was calm, clear, and powerful. It echoes through his mind like a bell.
His eyes widened in astonishment. Then he said, stuttering as he reorganized the voice: "S-Saint Torren?"
"Yes. I am speaking with you through telepathy. It is a simple technique, but I do not use it lightly. I wanted to speak with you before the others woke."
Daniel blinked. He had heard of telepathy in his past life, but never experienced it firsthand. It was said that Saints and higher order Mages were the only ones able to perform such a feat.
He took a slow breath, then asked Saint Torren: "I... I don't remember what happened. It's all fuzzy too me. Can... you tell me what happened?"
Torren's voice grew solemn and said: "You fought, Daniel. You fought harder than any child ever should. You saved many lives. You stood alone when no one else could. The goblins were driven back thanks to you."
Daniel stayed quiet, eyes on the ceiling.
He is being so humble and formal. I know now that he killed all the remaining goblins, when I fell to the ground, unconscious. It's all returning to me.
He looked at his hand, seeing how it was completely repaired. He chuckled under his breath, not even the Saint could hear it.
I guess he left with Lord Vayren and that scumbag Daren. Thanks to him, my hand also feels a lot better.
Torren then spoke through the silence, his voice as angelic as ever: "The way you stood in front of the goblins. The way to clenched your sword, despite having so much blood. You awakened something in the goblins, a primal fear. They began to fear you, but when you fell they let their guard down, and the remaining villagers rallied. I arrived shortly after you collapsed and helped the villagers with the remaining goblins."
Daniel closed his eyes, knowing that there weren't too many causalities and that his friends and families were still safe, for the time being.
"I see." He said.
"You were magnificent, but foolish. You nearly died. Your body is broken. Mana exhaustion, internal bleeding, torn ligaments, fractured bones. You were not meant to push that far."
"I had to."
"I know. And I will not tell you to stop. But if you wish to continue down this path, then listen closely."
Daniel listened.
Torren spoke of focus, of training, of tempering both body and soul. He warned Daniel of the cost of rushing, of letting anger or desperation guide him. "Your strength lies not in your past life, but in your heart now. Let that be your guide."
Daniel was baffled by what Torren said. He wondered if he knew what his regression. Before he could ask, Torren replied.
"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. The Goddess only hinted at your reincarnation, so I don't know what happens in the future. But, I trust you that will make good decisions, for the fate of humanity."
"I understand."
There was a pause.
"Farewell for now. Rest. You have more time than you think."
The voice faded, as Daniel remained silent. He stared at the ceiling. But what he truly looked at was not the ceiling. It was beyond. Through the veil, he saw the faint glimmer of light, and the soft face of the Goddess, smiling warmly at him.
---
The Goddess was looking at Daniel, as he closed his eyes. She was sitting on a giant throne that was golden in color. She had been watching everything he did, ensuring he was on the right track.
Then, she smiled.