Eliana, now in her orc form, stepped cautiously over the fallen Goblin Lord’s body, her breath coming in steady, controlled exhales. The raw power within her veins pulsed, filling her with the intoxicating sensation of triumph. She had evolved, ascended beyond the pathetic existence she had once known. She should have felt satisfied.

  But she wasn’t.

  A gnawing emptiness curled inside her chest, hollow and suffocating. As she surveyed the underground kingdom—the city of filth and darkness she had struggled so desperately to rise above—doubt slithered into her mind like a cold, creeping shadow. Was this truly the pinnacle of her strength? Was this all there was?

  The answer came when she ventured beyond the bloodstained halls of the Goblin Lord’s chambers. She had expected a broken, fearful populace, goblins trembling at her presence, hobgoblins kneeling in submission. Instead, she was met with something far more unsettling—indifference.

  They did not bow. They did not tremble. They simply watched.

  Among them, an elderly hobgoblin—one of the higher-ranking guards—stood with his gnarled hands gripping the hilt of his rusted blade. His eyes, yellowed and aged, studied her with neither fear nor awe, only a strange, quiet pity.

  She narrowed her eyes. “What?”

  The old goblin let out a rough chuckle, the sound dry and bitter. “You think you’ve won, don’t you?”

  Eliana scowled, stepping forward. “I killed the Goblin Lord. I ascended. I am the strongest in this kingdom now.”

  The hobgoblin sighed, shaking his head. “You’re still blind.”

  Eliana’s fingers twitched, her claws curling in frustration. “Explain.”

  The goblin’s gaze darkened as he pointed toward the tunnels stretching into the abyss beyond their city, where the air grew thick with an almost tangible weight. “This is not a kingdom. It’s a slum. A colony of discarded filth. The Goblin Lord? He was a mere gatekeeper. A beast allowed to fester in this pit, far from the eyes of the true rulers of our kind.”

  Her pulse quickened. “What do you mean?”

  The hobgoblin’s lips curled into something resembling a grimace. “The goblins you’ve fought, the orcs you’ve slaughtered—they are nothing. This place is nothing. A forgotten outpost for the weakest of our kind. And you, for all your strength, are still only standing at the bottom of the true goblin hierarchy.”

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  A cold dread settled into Eliana’s gut. “You’re lying.”

  The hobgoblin chuckled again, but this time it was colder. “Am I? You’ve clawed your way to the top of an anthill and convinced yourself you stand atop a mountain.” He took a step closer, and for the first time, Eliana noticed something unnerving in his gaze—no fear, no admiration, only amusement at her ignorance. “Far beneath these tunnels is the true goblin kingdom, a world where the weak are devoured, where evolution is not a choice, but a necessity. You are strong—for an orc. But an orc is still a beast, a foot soldier. You haven’t even begun to touch real power.”

  The words hit her harder than any blade ever had. She had believed that by reaching this stage, she had become something unstoppable. But now, the realization dawned like a cruel joke.

  She was still weak.

  Eliana clenched her fists, her mind spiraling. “If orcs are nothing, then what comes next?”

  The hobgoblin’s eyes glowed faintly in the dim light. “Evolution. The path continues far beyond what you know. First, a goblin becomes a hobgoblin. Then a hobgoblin becomes an orc. But orcs, no matter how strong, are merely guards, warriors bred to fight and die. Those who survive—those who prove their worth—evolve into something greater. Ogres.”

  Eliana’s breath caught. She had never even heard whispers of ogres, towering creatures of pure destruction, but even they were not at the peak.

  The hobgoblin continued, his voice a low rasp. “But even ogres are not the end. Some, the truly exceptional, undergo another transformation. They become Oni—creatures that wield magic as easily as they breathe, feared even by the strongest of warriors. And beyond them? The pinnacle of our kind. The rulers of the true goblin kingdom.”

  He paused, as if savouring the words before he spoke them.

  “The Kizin.”

  Eliana felt as if the ground beneath her had vanished. The Kizin. A word she had never heard before, yet it carried an unbearable weight. The goblin king himself was one of these beings. If she wanted true power, if she wanted revenge, she would have to rise far beyond where she stood now.

  A mere orc? It was laughable.

  Her transformation had been a victory, but now it felt hollow. She was still nothing. A monster, yes, but a weak one.

  The hobgoblin studied her face, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “Now you see, don’t you? That feeling in your gut—that horror creeping through your mind? It’s the truth settling in. You are still nothing. If you stay here, if you revel in this small victory, you will rot like the rest. Or… you can continue down the path. You can evolve again. And again. Until you reach the true pinnacle of power.”

  Eliana’s hands trembled, not with fear, but with cold excitement full of fury.

  She had come so far, endured so much, only to realize she had barely begun.

  Her lips curled back, baring her monstrous tusks. A fire reignited within her, hotter than before. The despair threatened to swallow her, but she refused to let it. No, this was not the end.

  This was merely the next step.

  She would not stop at being an orc. She would not settle for being an ogre or even an Oni. If the Kizin were the true rulers of the goblin kingdom, then she would ascend beyond them. She would carve a path of evolution so vicious, so undeniable, that the very fabric of this wretched world would be forced to recognize her.

  Her journey had only just begun.

  And the world would tremble when she reached the peak.

  and maybe even go beyond it.