The Devouring Knight
Chapter 134 - 133: The Night We Challenged the Dark

Chapter 134: Chapter 133: The Night We Challenged the Dark

As the residual heat of battle faded and his heartbeat settled, Lumberling exhaled slowly. A warm pulse still thrummed in his chest, vibrating through his bones like a living forge. The world felt sharper, more vivid. He could sense it even before confirming it.

He had stepped into the next stage.

With a thought, he pulled up his status window.

Name: Lumberling

Race: Human

Age: 25 years (9 months, 3 weeks)

Level: 9

Essence Point: (4,429 / 22,000)

Power: 4,463 (Skills: 3,332 | Level: 1,131)

Cultivation Realm: Unranked

Fragment of Divine Blessing: Qi Adaptation

(A trait bestowed upon beings from the Martial Realms, allowing them to thrive in foreign energy systems.)

Beginner Imperial Mindseal Meditation – Level 0 (982/1000)

Beginner Ironblood Tempering Scripture – Level 0 (797/1000)

Knight Stage: Quasi-Knight

Active Skills

Beginner Sprint Lv1 (736/1000)

Beginner Hammer Shock Lv1 (0/1000)

Beginner Thundering Lunge Lv.0 (1/1000))

Beginner Essence Weave Lv0 (643/1000)

(Derived from Essence Devour. Allows the user to bind the essence of a fallen enemy and channel it into another chosen vessel.)

Passive Skills

Essence Devour

Beginner Spearheart Doctrine Lv9 (0/1000)

Beginner Shadow Glide Lv5 (632/1000)

Beginner Flowing Edge Lv3 (521/1000)

Beginner Bowmanship Lv1 (642/1000)

Beginner Shield Bash Lv1 (332/1000)

Beginner Bonecrush Method Lv1 (0/1000)

Beginner Dual Wielding Axe Lv0 (571/1000)

Resistances

Beginner Poison Resistance Lv0 (984/1000)

A small grin curled his lips.

So close.

The power of a True Knight now lay just on the horizon. And with his growing arsenal of skills, many nearing their next breakthrough, he could finally face a True Knight of the First Stage without folding. He wouldn’t just survive. He’d match them.

.....

After the sparring field clears.

Dust hung faintly in the air as the crowd dispersed. Laughter and murmurs rippled through the distance while the sun cast lazy shadows on the scuffed field.

Lumberling sat atop a jagged rock at the edge of the training grounds, one arm draped over his dented pauldron, fingers gently massaging his sore shoulder. His body ached, ribs barked with every breath, bruises bloomed beneath his skin, but he wore a crooked smile he couldn’t quite shake off.

Bootsteps crunched over the earth behind him.

"You’re a freak, you know that? How’d you manage to keep up with me, a True Knight?" Aurelya said, arms crossed as she stepped in front of him.

He looked up, amused. "That your way of saying I impressed you?"

She raised a brow. "You lost."

"I let you win."

"You got slammed into the ground."

"I was looking for my weapon."

"You broke three weapons."

"Versatility," he said with a wink, "is a virtue."

Aurelya snorted and stepped closer, crouching beside him, golden eyes scanning his face. "You really got stronger just now, didn’t you?"

He didn’t answer right away.

She tilted her head, voice softer. "Did one of your combat skills rank up?"

Lumberling gave a loose shrug, wiping a smear of dirt from his jaw.

"What can I say? You hit me so hard I got stronger," he said, tone lazy but laced with meaning. "Honestly... it was a spiritual experience."

That earned a twitch at the corner of Aurelya’s lips. She fought it, stiffened, even, but the ghost of a smile was there.

"Tch. Don’t flatter yourself," she muttered, glancing away.

But a faint blush bloomed across her cheeks, betraying her far more than her tone did.

"Too late."

His voice dipped, lower now, rich with heat and humor. He leaned just a little closer, enough for her to catch the scent of earth, sweat, and steel clinging to him. It wasn’t unpleasant.

"But to be fair," he added with a sly grin, "you did help. I might let you slam me again... next time."

She blinked, visibly flustered. "Keep talking like that and I might not hold back," she warned, crossing her arms tighter, but not stepping away.

"I’m counting on it."

Their eyes locked. Her gold, sharp and burning. His, tired but gleaming, full of quiet defiance and something deeper, an unspoken challenge.

For a breath, they stood in that silence, tension coiled between them like a drawn bow.

Then she exhaled sharply and turned, brushing a strand of windswept hair behind her pointed ear.

"You’re trouble," she muttered, but a strange warmth coiled in her chest. She hated that she wanted to know more.

"I’ve been told."

.....

A short distance away, Vaenyra watched the exchange. She didn’t say a word, but her keen eyes followed every beat of their interaction.

She had seen how he fought, unorthodox, unpredictable. He didn’t move like a knight. He moved like a survivor. There was something raw in his form, a blend of styles that defied tradition. Multiple weapons, multiple combat skills, none refined, yet all dangerously effective.

’If he reaches my level... no, when he does, I’ll be waiting.’

She had always been called a genius, a prodigy among elves. But this...what was he?

Her gaze flicked toward Aurelya again, and her eyes narrowed.

’Are they flirting?’

Behind her, Thessalia leaned against a tree, arms crossed. The green-haired elf said nothing, but her moss-colored eyes tracked Lumberling intently. Calm. Calculating. unreadable.

’Maybe I should’ve taken that challenge after all...’

.....

The next day. Goblin Village - Nightfall

The village was cloaked in soft darkness, the moon barely a sliver in the sky. Flickers of orange danced across the path as dozens of goblins, kobolds, and humans gathered, each holding a torch, their faces lit with anticipation. Even the children were quiet tonight.

Lumberling stood at the center, arms crossed, eyes on the line of wooden poles stretching down the main road. Atop each was a glass bulb, held in place with twine and crude but functional metal brackets.

Izzek stepped forward, his hands blackened with soot and oil, and Tarnix followed, lugging a heavy wooden box wired with copper coils and glass jars filled with strange, bubbling liquid.

"We did it, boss," Izzek said, beaming with all his crooked teeth. "The battery’s ready."

Tarnix nodded, wiping sweat from his brow. "Just like you taught us. Copper and zinc plates, vinegar as acid... we layered ’em inside jars. Electricity flowed from the river paddle and the windmill earlier today, and we stored it inside these."

He tapped the box proudly. "Each cell gives a little charge, but linked together, it’s enough. We even rigged a switch."

Lumberling gave a faint smile. "And the bulbs?"

"Glass dome with a thin wire inside," Izzek explained. "When electricity runs through the wire, it glows hot, like fire. Just not burning fire. Controlled."

A murmur rippled through the crowd. Even Shade leaned out from the shadows beneath the trees, silently watching.

"Do it," Lumberling said.

Tarnix reached behind the battery box and flipped the crude lever with a clack.

At first, there was only silence.

Then, pop, one bulb sputtered, then another. One by one, the lights along the main road began to glow. Dim at first, then steadily brighter, casting pale white light across the village.

Torches were lowered. Gasps filled the air.

It wasn’t fire. It wasn’t magic.

It was something else, soft, steady, warm.

The children laughed and ran under the lights, pointing up with wonder. Some kobolds fell to their knees, blinking and hissing in awe. Even the humans from Uncle Drake’s group stood speechless.

Lumberling didn’t move for a long moment. He just watched the road, the lights, the faces.

Then he said, almost to himself, "We’ll push the night back one invention at a time."

Izzek scratched behind his ear. "So, uh... how long do these glowy things last?"

"Until the battery runs out," Tarnix replied. "We’ll recharge tomorrow, river and wind will do their job."

"And someday," Lumberling added, "you’ll build batteries bigger, better. Maybe even power more than just lights."

The villagers stood together in that pale glow, no longer creatures of the dark, but pioneers of something new.

.....

As the last bulb lit up with a warm thrum, casting its white light along the road, a hush fell once more.

From the magically grown elven trees above the village, three tall, graceful figures watched in silence.

Elves.

Vaenyra tilted her head in quiet wonder, her cloak shimmering in the new glow. Beside her, Thessalia stood with arms crossed, green hair stirring in the breeze, eyes catching every flicker of light. Aurelya watched, hands behind her back, golden eyes gleaming.

"...They actually did it," Aurelya murmured, a faint smile creeping onto her lips. Whether it was pride or something else, no one could tell.

"It’s beautiful," Vaenyra said softly, her voice like a flowing stream.

Thessalia gave a small nod. "It’s not just about beauty. It’s utility. And power. This changes things."

Down below, a goblin child tugged on Lumberling’s sleeve, staring up at the glowing bulbs. "My Lord... is this magic?"

He glanced down at the kid, then back at the lights. "No," he said, smiling. "This one’s ours."

The child grinned. "Can we light the outhouse too?"

"Eventually. Gotta keep our priorities straight."

Laughter rippled around them. Not the raucous kind, but gentle, tired, earned.

The night had always belonged to the dark.

But tonight, it belonged to them.

A breath later, the three elves descended, silent, watchful, and perhaps, curious about what came next.