Hero’s Child C19

Chapter 19

“Then that item right now…”

[He hid it so thoroughly that even the villains couldn’t find it. Which, of course, drove the goblins into a frenzy once they found out. They’ve lost their minds trying to track him down. Oh, for heaven’s sake—Podo! What are you doing running off there?!]

From beyond the doll’s lips came a cacophony of noise—growls, shouts, the clamor of chaos. Then Mother Ship’s voice returned, sharp and urgent.

[This won’t do, my dear. You need to get out of there, quickly. Jekyll Jack is holding off the goblins, but there are too many of them. Hyde and the Phantom can’t be reached right now—they won’t make it in time.]

Another explosion ripped through the air, louder than before, making the whole building tremble as if the world itself were splitting apart. Uichan rose to his feet, voice low but steady.

“Mother, Podo—don’t come here. Tell Jekyll Jack to retreat as soon as possible. I’ll get out on my own.”

[Understood. Be careful, my youngest.]

Almost on cue, sirens began to blare across the building. Uichan left the doll behind—now just an ordinary human shell—and dashed out of the waiting room.

The hallway was bedlam. Screams and curses tangled together as panicked crowds surged toward the exits, shoving and colliding in their desperation to escape. Amid the chaos, Uichan pushed through, running straight for the training arena.

“Hey! What are you doing? The evacuation route’s the other way! Heroes are already dealing with the villains—if you go there, you’ll die!”

“It’s fine,” Uichan said calmly, gently pushing the man’s arm aside. “I’m a hero too.”

But luck was never kind to him. The moment he stepped away, the man was slammed sideways by another panicked evacuee, bouncing off the walls like a ping-pong ball before disappearing into the crowd with a strangled gasp.

Taking advantage of the gap, Uichan sprinted toward the arena. The sight that greeted him made his stomach lurch.

Half of the mock cityscape had collapsed, black smoke rising from every direction. The air was thick with dust and the shriek of wind—Noatis’s wind.

“There! Jekyll Jack’s over there! Take him down!”
“No use! We can’t even get close!”

At the sound of that name, Uichan searched quickly. The far side of the arena had been blown open—part of the wall torn away by an explosion. Through the gaping hole, villains were flooding in while heroes fought desperately to hold the line.

“Get the hell outta my way!” Jekyll Jack bellowed, his voice feral.

Uichan’s eyes darted toward the source—and froze.

Through the smoke and fire, two massive figures were locked in brutal hand-to-hand combat. One was Jekyll Jack, his body swelling with power. The other—

A goblin.

Over two meters tall, with curved blue horns sprouting from his head, white hair streaming against his dark skin, and a tattered white robe clinging to his frame.

Exactly like the one Uichan had seen during the Seolhyang Village massacre.

The fact that the goblins had revealed their true forms meant only one thing—the lost object was of immense importance to Aengak.

“Brute strength alone won’t save you!” Jekyll Jack roared.
“Those words will be your own death sentence!”

They charged again, eyes bloodshot, fists colliding with bone-crushing force. Every impact sent waves of shock rippling through the ground, the air itself screaming as if the world were being torn apart.

Jekyll Jack’s ability amplified his muscles a thousandfold, generating explosive power. Every hit he took only made him stronger, converting pain into raw energy—a perfect predator in close combat.

And yet, this goblin matched him blow for blow. Its strength was monstrous, beyond anything Uichan had imagined.

“Do you really think stopping me will change anything?” the goblin sneered. “How many of my brothers do you think are here already?”
“Like I give a damn,” Jack growled back. “As long as my youngest gets out alive, that’s all that matters. You lay a finger on him, and you’ll be crossing the River Jordan tonight.”
“You talk big for a human.”
“Then come find out if it’s just talk.”

Jekyll Jack grinned savagely, his teeth bared like fangs. The veins bulged across his temples as his body swelled grotesquely. In the next instant, he launched forward like a cannonball.

He rammed into the goblin like a raging bull, forcing the towering creature back step by step before slamming it through a heap of collapsed concrete. Cracks split the ground beneath them.

Jack didn’t stop. His fists pummeled relentlessly, too fast to see, the sound of each impact echoing through the dust-choked air.

Only when the half-collapsed structure finally crumbled completely did he halt, chest heaving. The arena was blanketed in gray ash, the shouts of retreating heroes muffled under the roar of chaos.

Uichan knew they had to get out—staying here with Noatis still nearby was only inviting trouble.

“Jack! That’s enough—get out, now!”

“What? That you, youngest?! Where the hell are you?! You’re the one who should be running! Don’t come any closer, you hear me?!”

Uichan ignored him, starting toward the voice—until a new sound stopped him cold.

Groaaaan—

The sound of steel twisting, of bones breaking—the kind of sound that made your teeth ache. It came from above.

Everyone froze. The sudden stillness was eerie, the world holding its breath. And then—

KRRAAAAASH!

A deafening roar tore through the air as a hurricane ripped across the arena. Inside its spiraling core were countless shadows—and among them, Noatis.

He was battling a swarm of goblins—dozens of them—alone, at the center of the storm.

“Cover Noatis! Move!”
“With what?! We can’t get near him!”

The heroes were tossed back by the wind every time they tried. Somewhere beneath the roar, another low creaking began—subtle at first, then louder, heavier.

“Kid!”

Jekyll Jack appeared beside Uichan, covered in soot, and grabbed his arm. Everyone in the arena had realized it at the same moment—the sound’s source.

The massive dome ceiling—covering the entire five-thousand-pyong arena—was collapsing. Starting from one corner, it buckled and gave way, the cracks spreading like lightning.

“It’s coming down! Run!”
“What about the civilians still up there?!”
“Damn it—Noatis!!”

Through the smoke, they could see terrified spectators huddled in the stands. There was no time to reach them.

All anyone could do was shout the hero’s name—pleading for a miracle from the man already bleeding and battered.

Then the ceiling tore free completely.

The massive structure plunged downward, casting a shadow that swallowed the entire arena. Screams erupted, filling the air with a sound so raw it rattled the bones.

“Kid, come here! I’ll block it—don’t worry, I’ve got you!”

Jekyll Jack’s massive hands pulled Uichan close, shielding him beneath the steel beams. He crouched protectively, wrapping his huge frame around him.

But Uichan saw it—the subtle tremor beneath the floor, the debris floating upward as if caught in invisible currents, and the flicker of green wind rising from below.

“Noah!” someone shouted above the din.

And there he was—hovering in midair, blood streaming down his face, fighting off the oncoming villains.

The people below opened their eyes, expecting death—but instead, the falling ceiling had stopped.

“The wind… it’s holding the dome up…”

Indeed, Noah’s wind had surged upward, catching the massive structure before it could crash down. The air shimmered with raw force, visible even to the naked eye—bright, violent, beautiful.

But the strain was crushing him. He couldn’t counterattack or even defend himself properly.

“Let’s move now while we can,” Jack growled, rising to his feet. “Those bastards won’t stop coming.”

He started toward the exit, but Uichan didn’t move.

Jack cursed under his breath and turned back—just in time to see Noah take another hit, blood spraying as he fell.

He caught himself midair, barely, and sent blades of wind flying in all directions, cutting down the goblins who charged at him.

But holding the dome aloft while fighting at full strength was impossible.

The hurricane that had once torn through the arena was gone now—dispersed into nothing.

And if this kept up…

Noatis would not survive.