César trained without rest with the old, rusted sword, striking an improvised training dummy made of straw and the hides of various monsters.
Each strike was heavy and deliberate.
Dull thud.
Dull thud.
Dull thud.
Sweat ran down his forehead and jaw, falling to the ground beneath his feet. His muscles burned, but he did not stop.
He refused to stop.
César was completely absorbed in his training. He wasn't using Ether at all, only his pure physical strength.
"If I rely on Ether for everything, my body will never grow stronger."
With a final roar, he swung the sword with all his strength.
Crack!
The training dummy split violently, and at the same time the rusted sword shattered in his hands.
Half of the blade spun through the air before embedding itself into the ground.
César leaned forward, placing both hands on his knees as he breathed heavily.
"Hahaha…"
His chest rose and fell rapidly, sweat dripping from his chin. Yet his eyes shone with excitement rather than frustration.
He had pushed his body further than the day before.
Slowly, his gaze turned toward the broken sword lying on the ground.
"Gnomes…"
César murmured the word softly as he narrowed his eyes.
He picked up the broken weapon and examined it.
César already knew that most of the tools and weapons used by the demonic humans had originally been crafted or traded by the gnomes.
It could be said that the gnomes were the true blacksmiths of this continent.
As he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, César began considering how he might find a group of them.
'If I had new and powerful weapons… our strength would multiply several times over.'
But he quickly suppressed that thought and shook his head with regret, because he knew that despite being the greatest craftsmen and smiths on the continent, the gnomes had almost no prestige.
In fact, their situation was the opposite.
Because of their usefulness and their lack of physical strength, many races extorted them, forcing them to forge weapons.
Others simply enslaved them.
Because of this, the gnomes preferred to hide deep underground or in hidden settlements, avoiding contact with the outside world whenever possible.
They only occasionally emerged to trade with certain races they trusted.
César had already asked about them before.
According to Sasha, Luna, and Asia, their clans had once exchanged food rations with wandering gnome merchants in return for weapons and tools.
But those encounters had become extremely rare in recent years.
And with the arrival of the evil Pigman, the gnomes had practically disappeared.
César continued rubbing his chin, lost in thought.
"Finding them won't be easy…"
As he thought, something unusual caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.
Among the groups of goblins training in the distance, he noticed something different.
A few female goblins.
César didn't look at them with particular interest, nor out of attraction.
The reason he paid attention was something completely different.
It was because he had noticed that their number was increasing.
The females were still far fewer than the males, but compared to before, there were clearly more of them.
César crossed his arms and watched the training field while a faint smile appeared on his face.
"So the change is already happening…"
Before he took control of the tribe, goblins often killed each other over scraps of food.
Chaos ruled everything.
The weak starved to death.
The strong took whatever they wanted.
But now things were different.
Food, weapons, and resources were distributed according to merit.
And most importantly:
Fighting among themselves was strictly forbidden.
Because of that, the tribe had become more stable.
The goblins were stronger.
Better organized.
And now… they were multiplying.
César slowly exhaled as he looked at the bustling training field.
Dozens of goblins practiced with crude spears, axes, and wooden shields.
They shouted, fought, and pushed themselves harder every day.
A faint smile appeared on César's face.
'This is only the beginning.'
But his gaze soon hardened again.
Because he knew something important.
Their current weapons—some rusted, others far too old—were not enough.
They needed real weapons.
And for that…
They needed the gnomes.
César picked up the broken sword and looked at the jagged metal.
His eyes sharpened.
"Looks like it's time to find some blacksmiths."
While César was absorbed in his thoughts, he didn't notice that a beautiful dark elf was approaching him.
It was Asia.
When she hugged him from behind, César was startled, but quickly relaxed.
"What's wrong, dear?" Asia asked when she noticed César had been so focused that he hadn't even realized she was there.
At first César was startled, but he soon calmed down and turned to look at the beautiful elf.
"Nothing. I was just thinking about a few things we need."
As he looked at her face, his eyes couldn't help but travel over her figure.
César swallowed.
It had been quite a while since the last time.
Since he consumed the fruit, one thing had led to another, and now he had built up enough tension to feel like he might explode.
Asia, noticing César's burning gaze, immediately understood what he was thinking.
Her dark face flushed slightly.
With a mixture of shyness and expectation, she allowed César to take her hand.
Without saying another word, he guided her toward one of the wooden houses that served as their current home.