Chapter 9: Goblins
A group of six goblins moved noisily through the ruins, completely oblivious to the man watching them from the shadows—Leon Grant.
Leon stayed crouched low, only his sharp eyes peeking out from the rubble. These goblins were all nearly naked except for the leader, who wore a crude necklace made of woven grass strands adorned with messy bird feathers. Clearly, this one was their chief.
Each goblin carried a weapon: long spears about two meters in length. The spear tips were fashioned from jagged stone, crudely tied to uneven shafts with plant fibers. The primitive construction of their weapons made it clear that their civilization hadn't progressed much. It also suggested that their tribe was unlikely to be very large.
The goblins moved through the abandoned streets, shouting and howling in their incomprehensible tongue. Occasionally, one would smash a spear against the cracked walls or burst into raucous laughter. Leon frowned. For creatures so ill-equipped and seemingly fragile, they made an absurd amount of noise. Didn't they fear drawing the attention of more dangerous predators?
As Leon observed, the goblins began splitting up. They paired off into groups of two, entering the surrounding buildings. A wave of unease crept over him.
Why are they going inside?
Leon tightened his grip on the fire axe he had scavenged earlier and adjusted the short knife at his belt. His eyes never left the goblins as they disappeared into different structures.
After about ten minutes, the first pair emerged, one of them carrying a rusty iron pot and some miscellaneous items. The other pairs also began to return, holding everything from scraps of metal to wooden planks.
Are they scavenging for supplies? Leon wondered, his unease deepening.
Then, to his growing dread, one pair of goblins—empty-handed and grumbling loudly—headed toward the building where he was hiding. His heart sank.
Leon's mind raced. He didn't want a fight. Despite his newly gained connection to the Arcane Realm and the blessings that came with it, he knew he wasn't ready for a prolonged battle. His ultimate goal was to return home to Earth, where he could further explore the abilities the Awakening had granted him. But now, that dream felt precariously close to slipping away.
Listening to the goblins' guttural voices growing closer, Leon realized he had no choice. His pulse quickened, but a strange calm settled over him. He couldn't run. He couldn't hide. He would fight.
He took position behind the door, gripping his fire axe tightly in his right hand while holding the knife in a reverse grip with his left. His enhanced strength from the Awakening gave him a shred of confidence. He had trained for combat scenarios before, but this was his first true battle—one where blood would be spilled.
The goblins shoved aside the decrepit couch Leon had used to barricade the entrance. Dust and fibers from the fabric filled the air, causing the creatures to cough and curse in their strange language.
The pair moved cautiously into the apartment. Their foul, unwashed stench filled Leon's nostrils. He held his breath, listening as they rummaged through the adjacent rooms. He heard them pause, likely inspecting the skeleton he had found earlier.
Finally, the door to Leon's room creaked open. One goblin entered first, its bony hand clutching a stone spear. The other followed, holding a bundle of random objects it had scavenged, including what appeared to be part of the skeleton's skull.
Leon's breath steadied. He knew he had only moments to act.
Raising the axe high, he lunged. With all his might, he brought the blade down on the spear-wielding goblin. The sharp edge bit deep into the creature's shoulder, cleaving flesh and bone with a sickening crack. A spray of dark green blood splattered across the walls as the goblin let out a strangled cry before collapsing lifelessly to the floor.
The second goblin froze in shock, its eyes wide as it stared at its fallen comrade. Leon didn't hesitate. He yanked the axe free, ignoring the nauseating resistance as it tore through muscle and sinew, and swung again.
This time, the goblin raised its arm defensively, the bundle of scavenged items acting as a makeshift shield. Leon's blow struck the debris, scattering it across the room, but the impact still sent the goblin stumbling backward onto an old wooden bedframe.
Leon surged forward, his axe raised for a finishing strike. The goblin shrieked, trying to scramble away, but Leon's swing connected with its skull. Bone shattered under the force, and the creature's scream was cut short.
Panting heavily, Leon stepped back. His chest heaved as the adrenaline coursing through him began to subside. The room was eerily quiet now, save for his ragged breathing.
This had been his first real fight, and though he had come out victorious, his body now felt weak and shaky. No amount of sparring in the safety of a gym or school had prepared him for the reality of killing.
He slumped against the wall for a moment, his hands still gripping the bloodied axe. His mind raced with questions. How many more goblins were out there? Would the others hear the commotion and come looking for their fallen comrades?
Leon forced himself to stand. He needed to move. If the rest of the goblins returned, he'd have to be ready.