"Fireball!"
In the distance, a fireball rose on the horizon like a miniature sun erupting into the sky—and it wasn't just one.
The newcomers who had only just joined the Red Dragon Company couldn't help wiping sweat off their foreheads.
They couldn't even tell whether the sweat was from the heat the spell was throwing off… or their body's instinctive reaction to sheer shock.
"So that's how you use Fireball…?"
A few low-level casters swallowed hard.
Even those who couldn't learn a Level 3 spell yet had heard how brutal Fireball's mana cost was.
They said only Level 5 casters with unusually deep reserves could cast it—and even then, usually once, and that single cast would drain most of their mana.
Even if you made it to master-tier casting, you'd only get a few more uses. And since you might need to cast other spells afterward, even if your mana could support it, you still had to ration it.
But this new captain—Gauss—was treating Fireball like it cost him nothing, detonating them all over the battlefield like he had an endless supply.
"...That's obscene."
"Is Captain Gauss a dragon in human form?"
"How many goblins is that per fireball…?"
"Quit yapping!"
"More goblins are coming out of the nest—get ready to engage!!"
"..."
After one volley of Fireballs—paired with Hephaestus's sustained, hard-to-extinguish dragonflame—Gauss did what he always did first: he smashed the battlefield's order.
Overwhelming magic. Dragonfire that clung and kept burning. The devilish pressure rolling off Gauss himself—
All of it shattered the goblins' nerve. Even the mid- and upper-tier goblin leaders struggled to hold formation.
And in that chaos—shadows dancing, "allies" murdering one another—the scene devolved into pure tangled madness.
"Don't run!"
"Pick up your weapons!!"
A goblin boss's shrieks cut through the crackle of burning wood.
"Shhk!"
Behind him, an ordinary-looking goblin suddenly drove a short sword straight through the boss's heart.
"PFF—!"
"Y-you… traitor!"
The goblin boss staggered, turned, and stared at the attacker—another goblin that looked just like him—shock and resentment written all over his face.
Even if the lowest-rank goblins were terrified of that demon-like figure… why would they stab their own leader on the spot?
What kind of reward could that devil have offered them?
Too bad the clay goblin didn't think. Didn't bargain. Didn't speak.
After dropping the boss who'd tried to rally the tribe, it blended back into the crowd—already hunting for the next target.
On a hillside, Luna swung her wand.
"Gust!"
A powerful current roared out, scooping up the panicked green skins at her feet—along with streaks of crimson dragonfire—and whipping them into a firestorm.
Inside that cyclone of flame and wind, the goblins died fast.
She lowered her wand, bafflement flashing across her face.
Why were these goblins so cowardly?
Normally, the bigger the nest, the harder it was for the rank-and-file to break. But these goblins had zero fighting spirit—like they'd run into a natural predator and their bodies had forgotten how to resist.
Under her spellwork, they looked like dolls whose strings had been cut.
"Is it just because Captain Gauss is too strong…?" Luna couldn't think of any other explanation.
"And… why do I feel so good today?"
Her mana felt unusually lively—an anomaly she'd never experienced back when she served as Fang of the Gray Wolf's Deputy Captain.
She wasn't the only new member feeling it, either.
Across the battlefield, once people had cut down a few goblins and realized they were safe, they'd stare at their own hands with the same stunned confusion.
Am I… this strong?
Gauss, up in the sky, knew exactly what was happening.
His screening hadn't been wasted effort. Anyone who passed review and joined Red Dragon was someone willing to integrate—someone whose "belonging" would take root fast.
That meant they were already starting to benefit from his Proof of Leadership specialization.
And once they felt that power—once they bonded with the team—unless they were rotten inside, their sense of belonging would only deepen.
Goblins were being crushed by multiple layers of suppression from Gauss… while his people were being boosted by the team aura.
One side down, the other side up.
No wonder the fight felt wildly different from "normal."
"Ha! That's it!"
"Die!"
"I can take ten of 'em!"
"Don't overextend—get back here!"
Fueled by the new recruits' momentum, a bunch of fresh battle-junkies surged forward, bathing in blood and charging like they'd been injected with adrenaline.
The newly promoted squad leaders watched their members—amped up, impossible to restrain—and felt like they were looking at strangers.
…But then they felt the heat in their own veins, exchanged looks, and broke into excited grins.
Fine.
Let's have a real fight.
Years of dull, numbed-out adventuring instinct flared back to life.
At the very center, Gauss stayed calm.
He hovered in the sky, leveraging Turret Mage to chain spell after spell.
When his mana dipped too low, he spent one charge of Feast Power.
At the same time, he used his purple-rank racial talent Feast to quickly down Ivan's "blue potion" mana restoratives.
When the goblin warlord lurking in the shadows finally revealed itself, Gauss didn't bother trading blows.
It wasn't like that "special" old kobold chief. This was just a standard Level 7 monster.
And it was a goblin—meaning it was also under Gauss's bloodline suppression.
He aimed a Level 4 Illusion—True Phantasm.
The goblin warlord froze.
Then its whole body convulsed. Terror flooded its face like it had seen the single worst thing it could imagine.
Its dark-green skin split apart in strips.
Its yellowed pupils dilated violently; web-like blood vessels flooded the whites—
"POP!"
Its eyes couldn't bear the invisible pressure and burst, leaving only two bloody sockets.
The warlord's agony deepened—but even through the pain, it still couldn't wake from the nightmare.
Instead, it sank deeper.
And then, in one instant, everything in it went slack.
Brain. Heart. All organs—like a switch had been flipped.
"THUD."
The lord of two thousand goblins died without a sound.
It never even got a proper fight.
Gauss, after casting True Phantasm, simply shifted his attention elsewhere once he confirmed the target was trapped.
Only when the prompt finally popped up did he glance back.
"Using True Phantasm on goblins really is absurdly effective."
Even Gauss was satisfied.
The "phantasm" he built was himself—a fear-amplified version—stacked with the Goblin Expert title effects. A Level 7 goblin warlord had no chance.
And the more terrified the target became—especially if it didn't realize it was inside an illusion—the harder it was to break free.
In the end, the warlord was killed by "him" in the illusion… and that death reflected onto its real mind and body.
Gauss liked it not just because it was fast, but because it was clean.
He had plenty of ways to instantly kill a goblin warlord.
But True Phantasm was the least effort—
And it preserved the body best, maximizing its value afterward.
"Keep going."
A fourth-circle spell was expensive, so it was reserved for tougher single targets.
But with Red Dragon expanded, Gauss's workload had eased dramatically.
Still, in the main battle, he didn't slack.
At this point, killing monsters had become habit—like breathing.
If he tried to stand back and just watch his people fight, it would feel wrong.
Like old men and women who don't need the money still find themselves working…
Or like nobody questions why they ate yesterday and are eating again today.
For some people, doing the thing doesn't require a special reason.
...
"Captain Gauss, do you need a break? I can oversee things here."
Luna—also a master-tier caster—flew over to him.
The battle hadn't lasted long, and Red Dragon had cleared the nest with shocking ease, far easier than she'd expected.
She'd kept her distance during the central phase, afraid of catching splash damage from Gauss and Hephaestus. Now that it was over, she moved in immediately.
From her perspective, Gauss had just cast enough spells to drain several mages like her dry.
Her worry wasn't about his health—just fatigue—especially after seeing how casually he'd killed Fisher earlier.
"Me?" Gauss was still watching the ground, ensuring no stragglers slipped through. He turned to Luna, puzzled.
He could feel he still had more than half his mana left—then, with the draconic eyes that could read mana flow, he checked Luna's.
Is it possible I'm in better shape than the person "checking on me"…? he thought, raising a brow.
But to spare her pride as a new member, he didn't say it outright.
"Go rest," he said instead. "Your people look like they took some injuries—go check on them."
Most of the former Fang of the Gray Wolf members had been reorganized: some folded under the dwarf squad, some into Ivan's action teams. The bulk of the stronger fighters went under Luna, forming Red Dragon's Fourth Squad: White Wolf—including her confidants, the two master-level operatives already sent back to Falrim, and most of the Level 3–5 professionals from the old company.
The arrangement was simple: Luna knew them best, so she managed them.
They also carved out three seats for Fourth Squad in leadership meetings.
Hearing that her people were hurt, Luna stopped insisting and flew back down.
Meanwhile Gauss continued to hover and cast Locate Creature over the area, hunting any goblins trying to play dead or hide.
"Goblins Slain ×1"
"Total Monster Kills: 33,101"
...
Back at the medical tent:
"Hiss—! I'm fine! Doesn't hurt!"
"This is nothing—give the healer to someone else!"
"I don't need treatment, I can still fight!"
"All of you—lie down!"
Luna arrived to find her injured subordinates trying to macho their way through it, as if admitting injury was shameful.
She flared instantly.
She'd told them: don't overextend just to look good. And yet here they were—several wounded—largely because they'd gotten carried away.
By contrast, Red Dragon's Second and Third Squads had a much lower injury rate.
If Captain Gauss learned the details, he might question her ability to manage her own people.
Her head started to throb.
At her sharp tone, the "tough guys" immediately shrank and obeyed.
After thanking Serandur, Ivan, and the other priests in the ad-hoc medical unit, Luna gave the injured a final warning and left the tent.
"I'm going to report to Captain Gauss. Don't make the medics' jobs harder."
Once she was gone, the injured finally relaxed.
"Luna boss… feels scarier than before."
"In Fang of the Gray Wolf she was quiet. Now she's… different."
"Still—Captain Gauss is insane."
"Did you see? I swear most of the monsters died to him."
"Doesn't that make us look useless?" someone muttered.
"C-come on… we blocked exits and intercepted plenty!"
"And it's not that we're useless. It's that the boss is too strong."
"I don't think Wolf was this strong."
"And he's so young…"
In the adventuring world, the fastest way to earn respect is simple:
Show strength.
Today, Gauss did that thoroughly—whether he meant to or not.
It shocked the new members, and it also settled the "floating" morale that naturally comes with a sudden, messy expansion.
If Gauss had a loyalty meter, this single battle would've bumped it by dozens of points across the board—maybe more.
Some of them were already becoming outright fanatics.