The reason for everyone's tense expressions was clear. These newly appeared goblin monsters were far from ordinary. Their mere presence radiated an intense, menacing aura, amplified by their fierce, grotesque appearances and the terrifying beasts they rode.
The scene was both awe-inspiring and deeply unsettling. What made it worse was that the participants, armed with knowledge of the monsters typically found in low-rank Fragment Worlds, immediately recognized the newcomers. The sight alone sent their senses of danger into overdrive.
'Goblin Generals.'
The name reverberated in Renly's mind as he took in the sight. Goblin Generals were no ordinary monsters. They were second-stage monsters of fearsome reputation, known for their devastating strength and formidable abilities. Ranked among the most dangerous of any second-stage monster, they were infamous for their overwhelming difficulty to defeat, even for seasoned second-stage warriors.
To make matters worse, these Goblin Generals were mounted on equally horrifying creatures—Bloodhounds. These battle beasts, notorious for their ferocity, were said to complement the Goblin Generals perfectly, fighting alongside them as seamless extensions of their wrath.
The real shock, however, lay in their presence here. Goblin Generals were typically found deep within low-level Fragment Worlds, far from the outskirts. Their sudden appearance in this location was a disturbing anomaly.
Given the overwhelming threat, the moment these creatures arrived, many first-stage participants didn't hesitate. Panic gripped them, and they fled en masse toward the border, knowing full well they stood no chance. For a first-stage warrior, standing against such monsters was tantamount to suicide. Even second-stage fighters would struggle.
Yet not everyone fled. A dozen warriors stepped forward, their auras flaring like a raging tide. These were no ordinary warriors; they were second-stage warriors among the participants that had clearly been holding back during earlier battles, conserving their energy for moments like this. Without hesitation, they charged at the oncoming Goblin Generals, clashing with them in an explosion of spiritual energy. The battlefield erupted into chaos as the warriors fought with everything they had, fully aware of the strength of their opponents.
Amid the turmoil, Renly stood frozen, torn between joining the fight or retreating to safety. His thoughts churned as he tried to make sense of the rapidly changing situation. As a first-stage warrior, he knew the risks all too well. Facing a Goblin General head-on was a death sentence.
Then his eyes caught sight of a group of first-stage warriors charging at an unoccupied Goblin General. It was clear they had come to a mutual understanding, they couldn't face these monsters alone, but by combining their efforts, they might stand a chance. Their teamwork, though desperate, sparked a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos..
Renly couldn't deny it, they were braver and faster than him. These participants had acted decisively while he hesitated, unable to commit to a course of action. As he watched them charge forward, a flicker of admiration crept into his thoughts, though it was quickly overshadowed by the grim reality unfolding before his eyes.
Two first-stage warriors surrounded a Goblin General, attacking from opposite sides as it sat astride its monstrous Bloodhound. They thrust their weapons with all their might, aiming to overpower it with their combined strength. But the Bloodhound, with a guttural snarl, moved swiftly, evading the attack. The Goblin General, wielding a deadly halberd, retaliated with frightening precision.
One of the warriors raised his shield to block the incoming strike, but mid-swing, the halberd's trajectory shifted unnaturally, slicing through the air with shocking speed. The warrior couldn't react in time. In an instant, his head flew from his shoulders, landing with a sickening thud.
The second warrior, now fully aware of the danger, turned to flee. But before he could take more than a few steps, the Bloodhound's razor-sharp claws struck, digging deep into his flesh and sending him tumbling to the ground.
Blood poured from the gashes, and he cried out in agony, his screams echoing across the battlefield. The Goblin General, mounted on its snarling beast, charged toward him. With a fluid swing of its halberd, the General ended his cries, the warrior's head rolled away, leaving a gruesome trail of blood.
Similar scenes played out across the battlefield. Other first-stage participants had also attempted to gang up on the Goblin Generals, each hoping to take one down through sheer numbers. But their efforts proved futile. One by one, they fell under the precise, devastating attacks of the Generals and their monstrous mounts.
This marked the first time any of the participants had fallen in battle. Earlier, against the normal Goblin Warriors, they had fought with ease, cutting them down like chickens on a chopping block. But now, the tables had turned. They were the ones being slaughtered, overwhelmed by the skill and ferocity of the Goblin Generals.
Only the second-stage warriors could stand their ground against these formidable monsters. Even so, the battle was far from even. The Generals displayed an uncanny agility, dodging attacks as though they could predict every move. Their counterstrikes were devastating, and their Bloodhounds fought in perfect synchronization, raking their claws and fangs through the ranks of the warriors.
Despite their strength, many second-stage participants were sustaining injuries, forced onto the defensive as the tide of battle gradually turned against them.
Witnessing the carnage, Renly and the remaining first-stage participants who had yet to flee lost all hesitation. Fear surged through them, overriding any thoughts of bravery or strategy. Without a word, they turned and ran, legs pumping like wild chickens scattering in a storm.
Renly ran too, though shame gnawed at him. He remembered the words he had written in the book, where he had stated he would gain the power of absolute perception, used by the Supreme Dragon God of Annihilation, during a moment of deadly crisis. Now, faced with such a moment, reality struck him harder than any fantasy. Seeing death up close was vastly different from imagining it.
No amount of resolve could suppress the terror gripping his heart. For now, survival was all that mattered.
Renly couldn't bring himself to gamble his life at this moment. His primal instincts for survival, his sheer will to live, had taken over completely.
It would take only an instant for those hideous monsters to sever his head if he dared to attack them. The odds of survival were slim to none, and the risk was far too great.
If he were to die here, what would happen to his sister? With her health in such a fragile state, no one else would be there to care for or protect her. That thought alone solidified his decision, he had to live.
These desperate thoughts coursed through Renly's mind as he fled alongside the other participants. But the Goblin Generals were not content to let them escape. Having dispatched the first-stage warriors who had dared to attack them, they began to give chase.
Their monstrous mounts, the Bloodhounds, moved with terrifying speed. The cries of those caught rang out, piercing, bloodcurdling screams as they were mercilessly struck down by the Goblin Generals.
Fear gripped Renly's heart as he pushed his legs to move faster, the heat of the chase fueling his desperation. The claws of death felt as though they were closing in. Yet, just as he fled, something inexplicable happened.
His body stopped.
It was strange, unnatural. Renly froze in place, unable to comprehend what was happening. It was as if some unseen force had taken control of him. Against his will, he turned to face the pursuing monsters. The fear that had consumed him moments ago vanished, replaced by a calm resolve, as if he were no longer himself.
One of the Goblin Generals approached swiftly, mounted on its snarling Bloodhound. The creature's glowing red eyes burned with malice, and an unsettling sneer spread across its grotesque face. It seemed amused by this turn of events, finding one of its fleeing prey suddenly emboldened enough to stand and fight.
As it neared, the Goblin General struck with its long, deadly halberd. The weapon sliced through the air with the force of a second-stage monster, a blow far beyond what a first-stage warrior like Renly could possibly endure. Yet, as if guided by instinct or something more, Renly's body moved to meet the attack.
He raised his shield just in time, and the halberd struck it with a deafening clang, the sound of metal crashing against metal echoing across the battlefield.
The force of the blow was immense. The halberd partially sank through the shield, its sharp tip faintly poking out the other side. But somehow, impossibly, Renly had managed to block it. The impact, however, was more than his body could bear. The sheer force hurled him backward, sending him tumbling across the ground. He landed hard, but there was no time to recover.
Barely a split second had passed before the Goblin General was upon him again. Its halberd came down in a swift, brutal arc, aimed to impale him where he lay. Yet, once again, Renly's body reacted on its own. He raised his battered shield, meeting the attack just in time. The halberd struck the shield with such ferocity that it rattled his entire frame.
Just as Renly blocked the attack, he rolled over swiftly, using the momentum of his back to propel himself off the ground. But the Goblin General gave him no time to recover. It charged at him again, its Bloodhound snarling viciously as it lashed out with its steel-like claws.
Renly's arms felt leaden, almost useless. The repeated force of the Goblin General's attacks, even absorbed through his shield, had left his muscles numb and trembling. Pain coursed through his bones like jagged lightning. When the Bloodhound struck, he was too slow to block. Its razor-sharp claws, pulsing with an ominous, dark energy, tore into his flesh with a swift and brutal swipe.
A guttural groan escaped Renly's lips as he crumpled to the ground, blood pouring from the fresh wound. The claws left a sizzling gash, the faint scent of burnt flesh wafting through the air. His vision blurred momentarily, but he could still see the Goblin General bearing down on him, its halberd raised high.
The creature galloped forward on its mount, its weapon slicing the air in a fluid, lethal arc of light. The trajectory seemed impossibly fast, unpredictable. Renly could see his death written in that strike, it was meant to cleave him apart, a single blow to end him.
For a brief moment, he could do nothing but stare. Pain wracked his entire body, the fresh wound on his side draining his blood, energy, and spiritual strength as if it were being siphoned away. His limbs felt like dead weights, his battered shield barely clutched in his trembling hand. This was the end.
But then…
Something strange happened.
The attack, which had seemed like a blur, suddenly slowed. The world around him felt distorted for a moment, and it looked like time itself had stretched and thickened. Renly's gaze sharpened as a peculiar sensation washed over him. He noticed something, something remarkable.
A faint, colorful line appeared in the air, trailing from the Goblin General's halberd. It mirrored the weapon's movements, tracing its complex arc. The line extended beyond the halberd's current position, stretching forward to predict its destination. Renly's eyes followed it, and to his shock, he saw the line's end, a point directly at his neck.
His mind churned, struggling to comprehend what he was witnessing. It was as if the line was revealing the attack's path before it reached him, predicting the precise point the strike would land. His breath hitched. The line confirmed what his instincts screamed: this blow was meant to sever his head.
Despite his confusion, Renly acted. He raised his battered shield, angling it exactly where the glowing line indicated. His movements were sluggish, weighed down by pain, but he managed to position the shield in time.
The halberd closed in, its deadly arc curving fluidly midair, just as before. Yet, no matter how it twisted, it followed the trajectory the line had predicted. With a loud clang, the weapon struck Renly's shield, its force rattling his entire body. But the blow didn't land on his neck, it had been successfully blocked.