"So, little detective. You were holding out on me, were you?" The goblin wiped the side of his mouth where greenish blood trickled. "You damned tricky amps, always meddling in places you don't belong!"
Nergal raised an eyebrow. Everyone knew about the AMPS- the Anti-Misuse of Powers Squad. Despite the silly name they were a fearsome organization. Backed by no less than half of the countries in the UN and tasked with bringing down rogue cultivators. They were part-detective agency, part-military squad.
The little detective cocked his brow. "You get that monologue off of cliché villain anonymous?"
"How very funny. I'm rather eager to know what your little group is up to. Were they supposed to follow you back to my base?"
"No. I work solo."
The giant goblin grinned, his shark teeth glinting. "So I only need to get rid of you?"
"Yep." The detective nodded. "But that won't be happening."
Then they fought. The only thing Nergal could make out were flashes of light, shouts and chants. He was too busy curling on the ground to pay more attention. His body shook, the breath forced from him over and over again. His blood grew hot, turning his skin a bright red.
Shock Syndrome. It happened when a non-cultivator got too close to a fight between advanced cultivators. It was caused by the potent spiritual energy released during a fight. Kept up for long enough it was fatal.
The little detective must have realized how much trouble Nergal was having because soon the sounds of the fight dimmed. The two cultivators having moved further away.
It was then, as he finally managed to catch his breath that a weak voice called out to him. Not from the surroundings, no. But from inside his own head.
[You… There's something familiar about you…]
"W-who are you? Where are you from?"
[The stone. I'm in the stone.]
A black gemstone glowed with each word that echoed in his head. The very same gemstone that had the goblin cultivator had held. It must have fallen from his hand when the little boy had punched him.
[I can help you grow stronger…]
[You need only grab hold…]
"… I'm going insane. That must be it. Giant goblins, little kids pretending to be kidnapped and now a talking stone? Was it something I ate this morning?"
He still grabbed it, clutching it to his side. Nergal was an action first, consequences later type of guy.
He had also been stuck in the most basic, useless stage of cultivation for as long as he could remember. Only able to transfer to the other dimension. He was caught in a vicious place between being one of the blessed cultivators and one of the worshipping masses.
The stone shimmered in his grasp, pulsing with a red light. At the same time, Nergal felt a shifting sensation in the center of his forehead. It was as though the stone was making room for itself.
Feeling a sudden possessiveness for it, Nergal draped the stone- which hung from a simple necklace- around his neck.
[Let's go. Quickly… I can't do this much longer before he-] The stone's voice was abruptly pulled from his head.
"You tricky little fairy! Trying to run away again!? I won't let you!" The voice of the goblin king roared, shaking the tree branches. The roar had come from half a football field away, but immediately the sounds of battle drew closer.
And with the return of the two high-level cultivators to the battlefield came the Shock Syndrome. Nergal dry-heaved, trembling.
"Behold! My Devil-Splitter Technique!" The voice of the goblin was now near, too near. Nergal could see him glaring from the other end of the clearing. The goblin used his claws to slit the wrist on his opposite arm.
Blood, a deep, dark shade of green, flowed from his wrist to the floor. It quickly formed a little puddle which began to writhe and bubble. The bubbles grew taller, more tangible. Soon, impossibly soon, three distinct forms rose.
They were little goblins, looking exactly like the corpses strewn about the clearing except shorter and naked. They had no genitalia, opting instead for the barbie-doll look. Nergal wondered if that was a conscious choice by their muscle-bound creator or a feature of the technique.
"Get it back, get the stone back!" The goblin king cried, even as a shrouded figure engaged him in battle once again.
The newly-born goblins screeched and ran toward Nergal.
Faced with death for the second time in five minutes, adrenaline flooded his system and he moved.
When the first goblin jumped at him, he twisted, using the creature's momentum to pull them both to the ground.
Landing on top, Nergal grabbed at the goblin's wrists. He'd just seen how sharp the big goblin's claws were, he wasn't eager to test the little one's. Despite being half his size, the little monster was freakishly strong. It broke Nergal's grip with ease and he rolled back to avoid the swipe that followed.
He dodged the next attack, and had to roll for the one that followed.
He may not have had any cultivation talent, but Nergal was rather skilled in martial arts. In a non-cultivator martial tournament he would rank among the best in the world for his age. It was too bad that he couldn't take part.
It was also too bad that there were two more goblins trying to murder him.
The second of the green trio barreled into him from behind, knocking him to the ground. The first, seeing his target unprepared at his feet, grinned. This was the perfect opportunity for it to kill the annoying boy.
But it was not to be. A clawed hand squelched through the first goblins head. Green blood and mushy bits of brain splattered all over Nergal, even as his would-be killer fell.
Too quick for Nergal to see, the second was bisected. Its torso parted from the waist.
The last goblin froze for a moment at the gruesomeness of the display and the broken bodies of his siblings.
The killer was a slim figure, nearly as tall as Nergal. It had armored black flesh. Horns. Glowing red eyes. Nails shaped like daggers and, judging by their recent performance, just as sharp. The detective's monster form was terrifying.
As the last goblin was about to move it, too, was sliced in half. This time from head through genderless groin.
"Leave, brat. Now..." The demon's voice rasped.
Nergal noticed a gash on the demon's chest. "You're hurt!"
"You're in the fucking way! Leave!" he repeated, as the Goblin King roared.
"Damn you! I'll fucking kill you, both of you!"
Shakily clutching the now silent gemstone, Nergal ran. Doing his best to ignore the noises that echoed behind him, and the guilt that came with it.