Alaric jolted awake inside his tent, his heart pounding as a sickening snarl pierced the night. His eyes snapped open, and his mind raced to comprehend the threat. A dark green creature, the size of a human child and wielding a crude sword, was trying to slash its way into his tent.
Without hesitation, Alaric reached for Emberblast. The familiar weight of the pistol in his hand brought a sliver of comfort. He aimed and fired, unleashing a wave of fire that engulfed the creature and half of his tent. The stench of burning flesh and fabric filled the air, but there was no time to dwell on it.
"Damn it, there's more of them," he muttered under his breath, scanning the perimeter of his now ruined campsite.
Outside, more creatures—goblins, he realized with a start—emerged from the shadows, their eyes glinting with malevolent intent. Each one clutched a makeshift weapon, eager to tear him apart.
Alaric quickly reached for Reaver, its weight solid and reassuring in his other hand. As he stepped out of the remains of his tent, the first goblin lunged at him. He fired Emberblast, incinerating the creature in mid-air. Another goblin swung a club at his head, but Alaric ducked and fired Reaver, the magic bullet tearing through its chest.
"Come on, you ugly little bastards!" he yelled, adrenaline surging through him as he fired in rapid succession. The clearing lit up with bursts of fire and the sharp reports of his pistols. Each shot from Emberblast sent a goblin shrieking into flames, while Reaver's bullets struck with pinpoint accuracy, leaving no room for escape.
Despite their numbers, the goblins were disorganized and chaotic. They charged at him blindly, driven by a primal hunger. Alaric's training and experience gave him the edge he needed. He moved with precision, his mind focused solely on the fight.
A goblin with a jagged dagger leapt at him from the side. Alaric spun around, kicking it back before firing Emberblast, reducing it to a pile of ash. Another goblin, larger than the rest, roared and swung a heavy axe. Alaric sidestepped, aiming both pistols at the creature's head and pulling the triggers simultaneously. The combined force of fire and magic blew its head apart.
"They just keep coming," he muttered, breathing heavily as more goblins emerged from the darkness. His tent was now a smoldering ruin, and the ground around him was littered with the charred remains of his attackers.
He quickly reloaded both pistols, his movements swift and practiced. The goblins hesitated for a moment, seemingly aware of the deadly efficiency with which he was dispatching them. But hunger and rage soon overcame their fear, and they charged once more.
Alaric steeled himself, knowing he couldn't afford to let his guard down. Each shot had to count. He fired at the nearest goblin, the fire from Emberblast illuminating its twisted features for a brief moment before it was consumed. Reaver's bullets found their marks with deadly precision, dropping goblin after goblin.
In the midst of the chaos, a particularly agile goblin managed to get close, slashing at his leg with a rusty blade. Alaric grunted in pain but didn't falter. He blasted the creature point-blank with Emberblast, turning it into a smoldering heap.
"Gotta end this," he thought, his mind racing for a solution. The goblins showed no signs of retreating. He needed to turn the tide. Spotting a large tree at the edge of the clearing, an idea struck him.
With a final barrage of bullets and flames, he created a path through the goblins and sprinted towards the tree. Climbing up quickly, he positioned himself on a sturdy branch, giving him a higher vantage point. From there, he could see the remaining goblins milling around, confused by his sudden disappearance.
Alaric took a deep breath, steadying his aim. "Time to finish this," he said, his voice a determined whisper. He fired Emberblast and Reaver in unison, raining down destruction upon the goblins below. The combined force of fire and magic decimated their ranks, leaving only a few stragglers.
As the last goblin fell, Alaric remained on the branch, panting heavily. The clearing was now eerily silent, the only sounds being the crackling of flames and the distant calls of nocturnal creatures.
Sliding down from the tree, he surveyed the aftermath. The ground was scorched, and the air was thick with the smell of burnt flesh. His leg throbbed where the goblin had cut him, but the pain was a small price to pay for survival.
Alaric tore the remains of his tent, using strips of the fabric to fashion a makeshift bandage after washing his wound with water and applying some herbs he had in his pack. He tied the bandage tightly around his leg, wincing as he did so, but knowing it was necessary. With his leg temporarily tended to, he holstered Emberblast and Reaver, then carefully packed Intervention back into his bag. His gaze turned to the rotatory cannon, his newest and most powerful weapon, which he hefted with a grim determination.
His face was shrouded with seriousness. Goblins were one of the most dangerous creatures in the world because they always traveled in groups of ten at the very least. The group he had just killed numbered around thirty goblins, which meant there was a much larger force nearby—tens of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands.
"Damn it, how did they get so close?" he muttered to himself, eyes scanning the dark forest around him. "The last extermination was just a few months ago. There shouldn't be this many goblins this close to the border already."
But those questions would have to wait. His immediate priority was survival and getting to the city of Merger to alert Baroness Celeste Karmon. She needed to know about the goblin threat so they could call for reinforcements and prepare for what could be a massive invasion.
He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the rotatory cannon in his hands. It was designed for absolute rapid-fire destruction, utilizing thirty magic crystals to generate a storm of magic bullets. If he encountered another goblin group, this weapon would be his saving grace.
Setting off through the forest, he moved as quickly and quietly as possible, his senses heightened by the adrenaline still coursing through his veins. The night was eerily quiet now, the aftermath of the battle leaving an unsettling calm in its wake.
As he navigated through the dense underbrush, his mind raced. "Why are the goblins here? What drove them from their usual hunting grounds?" The questions gnawed at him, but he pushed them aside. He needed to stay focused on the task at hand. Any lapse in concentration could be fatal.