It was supposed to be a simple resource collection mission. Three kilometers away from the shelter, still within their recently won safe-zone. It should have been a relaxed three hours, even for a cultivation reject like him.
But as he picked the leaves off a lionmane flower he heard it. The panicked screams of a little boy and cruel, cackling laughter. He wasn't the toughest guy around, not in this world or the other. But Nergal was cursedâ and not just with an odd name.
No. Nergal had been given the dreaded hero syndrome. No matter the situation, he wanted to swoop in to save it. And so, without a second thought he dropped the basket of flower petals and ran toward the noise.
With confident strides and a roguish grin on his face, he parted a thicket of purple-leaved bushes. And immediately he found himself in what was, by all appearances, a murder ritual. Black candles arranged on the perimeter of the clearing, puffing with a sweet-smelling purple smoke. Wild patterns drawn on the flattened earth with a mixture of ash and indiscernible red stuff. A boy who could have been no older than twelve gagged and bound with rope, eyes wide in horror.
And with good reason, for strewn about the clearing were piles of goblins. Most of them sans heads. The rest with jagged, split throats. Blood- green blood- pooled all through the clearing. The instigator, naked as the day he spawned, stood over the boy with an arm outstretched. A fist-sized gemstone hung from a chain in his hand. His mouth upturned in an ugly grin. Lines were drawn all over his green-skinned body with a putrid smelling black mixture.
He was a goblin. Despite being around eight feet tall, his features were undeniably the same as those of the... corpses. He was two feet taller than Nergal but had far shorter legs. His face sported an over-sized, fleshy hook nose and beady, black eyes.
The giant goblin paused mid-cackle, eyes turned to the sudden visitor.
"Anyone call for a hero?" Nergal asked in as confident a tone as he could muster.
Complete silence. The giant goblin frowned in distaste. The corpses were unresponsive. Even the gagged boy didn't seem to want him there judging by the rapid head gestures and annoyed features.
Nergal remembered that he had zero chance of fighting off this hulking, steroid-popping behemoth. Who was pretty vicious and probably a cannibal if the dead bodies were any clue. He couldn't win even if the stars aligned and he got lucky. Not with his... condition.
"Maybe I should go? I mean, I should totally go. I left the air-conditioner on back home and my power bill has been insane. So if you would excuse me-" he said, taking a step back.
With a sharp crack, roots as thick as his arm burst from the forest floor, crisscrossing to block off any chance of his escape.
The goblin, left arm held toward the roots, smiled at him dangerously. "No. You should stay."
Nergal glanced back at the wooden wall and sucked in a breath. Just his luck. The serial-killer goblin was a damn wizard. "Ah. Shit. Well, if there's no way out..."
He charged at the goblin. Or tried to. Within three strides the Goblin seemed to teleport within grabbing distance. A gnarled green hand palmed his face, lifting him off the ground.
"Really? That's the best you could do?"
Nergal bit at the palm. It's flesh was hard as stone and smelled disgusting. All he succeeded in doing was hurting his teeth. If he'd bit down much harder he would have chipped a tooth.
"Ah-ah-ah. That's enough from you." The goblin said, shaking him roughly.
He gurgled.
A queasy feeling overcame him, the background shifting as the giant goblin moved back beside the boy he had- very quickly- failed to save. He dropped to the ground and, with a hand wave, was bound and gagged as well.
"I'd planned to take the boy back with me, but what am I to do with you?" The goblin thought aloud, scratching at his chin. It was a decidedly human gesture. Of course it was. A goblin spawn couldn't usually talk. Nor were they this large. And they definitely didn't hold secret, sacrificial rituals in the forest.
They preferred to assault and murder anything within view. They were simple that way.
He was clearly a high-level cultivator. One at the precipice of the Transcended Aspect Realm. A first stage cultivator like Nergal wouldn't be able to nick his skin with a sword even if he was in human form. In his monster form? It wouldn't happen even in a dream.
"The ritual is all but over, too. His sacrifice wouldn't benefit me much at all..." The Goblin King muttered to himself.
That's right... I'm not worth your time... I never wanted to be stuck in the middle of a blood ritual in the first place! Just let me go already...
The Goblin's cruel smirk grew wider. "I could do with a snack, though. It may not fill me all that much but every bit adds up. And I am very hungry, after all."
A shiver ran down Nergal's spine. The Goblin King pinned him down with one arm and bent over, mouth wide. Inside were two rows of shark-like teeth. Jagged, sharp and dotted with bits of bloody meat. It smelled disgusting too. Like a bag of mushed fruit and meat left in the sun for a week.
He struggled against the weight of the goblin arm, muscles burning with effort. It was no use. The strength difference was too vast and the ropes weren't making his escape attempt any easier.
But then, with a loud thwack, he was free and the goblin cultivator was knocked back.
Nergal eyed his savior with bafflement. Because there, fist outstretched, was the very same brat he'd rushed here to save. A few shredded bits of wooden rope still clung to him. He couldn't have reached much higher than Nergal's belly button in height if they stood beside the other. But he looked confident, unflinching. Unafraid at the murderous goblin who'd had him tied up and screaming a minute before.
"Tch." The kid spat a messy glob of spit, dirt and plant matter. "Took me three weeks to plan every aspect of this infiltration. And only five minutes for a bumbling idiot to ruin it all."