The chief and Krug surveyed the chaos around them. Hooded humans clashed with squads of goblins, the air thick with the sounds of clashing steel and agonized screams. At first, the goblins seemed to have the upper hand, their numbers and teamwork overwhelming the humans. But then, something changed.
The veins on the humans' faces bulged, their muscles swelling unnaturally as their skin turned a deep, angry red. Their movements became faster, more brutal, their strikes cutting through the goblins with terrifying ease. One of the humans laughed, a guttural, inhuman sound, as he cleaved through a group of goblins with a single swing of his blade.
"What that?!" Krug muttered, his voice trembling with fear.
Shiki didn't respond. His eyes burned with rage as he lunged at the nearest human, his heavy axe heaving through the air. The human barely had time to react before the axe struck, decapitating him in a single, brutal motion. The head flew through the air, landing with a sickening thud as the body crumpled to the ground.
But the victory was short-lived. Two more humans stepped forward, their hands glowing with red energy. They cast a spell, and glowing red chains erupted from the ground, wrapping around Shiki's legs and arms. The chief roared in anger, his muscles straining as he fought against the magical bindings. With a final, furious shout, the chains shattered, the spell breaking under his sheer strength.
Shiki didn't hesitate. He charged at the nearest human, his axe slicing through the man's torso with a wet, crunching sound. The human fell, his body split in two. The other human turned to run, but Shiki was already in motion. He hurled his axe with all his might, the weapon spinning through the air like a deadly whirlwind. It struck the fleeing human in the back, cleaving him in half from shoulder to hip. The two halves of the body fell to the ground, blood pooling beneath them.
From a distance, a hooded figure watched the carnage with cold, calculating eyes. His subordinates moved with ruthless efficiency, cutting down the goblins and piling their bodies like firewood. One of his men approached, bowing slightly as he spoke.
"Lord Kallian, these greenskins are rather… intelligent, no?" the subordinate said, his voice tinged with curiosity. "They're quite different from the ones we've been harvesting so far."
Kallian tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over the burning village. "Indeed," he said, his voice smooth and cold. "I saw one of their furnaces earlier. Crude, but functional. They're skilled in their crafts, and their structures are more advanced than I expected."
The subordinate nodded. "Yes, my lord. It's unusual for goblins to display such ingenuity."
Kallian's lips curled into a faint smile, though his eyes remained icy. "Unfortunately, I need their life force more than I need their skills. Tell me, are all the goblins dead?"
"Mostly, sir," the subordinate replied. "Kami and Lorian are chasing the stragglers. The harvest is nearly ready to proceed. However…" He hesitated, his voice faltering. "The hobgoblin chief is still alive. He's too strong. We can't take him down."
Kallian's smile faded, replaced by a look of mild annoyance. He turned to the subordinate, his hand rising slowly. Red energy crackled around his fingers as he reached for the man's face. The subordinate's eyes widened in terror, but he didn't have time to scream. The red energy surged, draining the life from his body. His face aged rapidly, his skin withering and his body thinning until he collapsed into a lifeless husk.
"Don't disturb my good time," Kallian said coldly, stepping over the corpse. He turned his attention back to the battlefield, his eyes narrowing as he focused on Shiki. "A hobgoblin, you say? How… interesting."
Rok and Zog moved through the dense forest, their bodies low to the ground as they tried to divert the attention of the two human mages away from the evacuating goblins. The humans were relentless, their glowing red eyes scanning the trees as they unleashed bursts of destructive energy. The forest around them was being torn apart, trees splintering and exploding into flames as the mages laughed, their voices cruel and mocking.
"Where are you, little greenskins?" one of the mages sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "You can't hide forever!"
Rok crouched behind a thick tree, his bow trembling in his hands. He glanced at Zog, who was hiding a few feet away, his face pale with fear. The two goblins knew they were outmatched, but they couldn't let the humans reach the others. Not while they still had breath in their bodies.
Rok nocked an arrow, his hands steady despite the fear coursing through him. He peeked out from behind the tree, his eyes locking onto the mage who had just spoken. The man was limping slightly, an arrow embedded in his knee—Rok's earlier shot had found its mark.
Good, Rok thought, a flicker of hope igniting in his chest. He hurt. We take him down.
He drew the bowstring back, his aim steady. The arrow flew through the air, striking the mage in the knee again. The man screamed in pain and rage, his glowing red eyes snapping toward Rok's hiding spot.
"You little vermin!" the mage roared, his voice trembling with fury. He raised his hand, red energy crackling around his fingers as he unleashed a barrage of energy blasts. The trees around Rok exploded into splinters, forcing him to dive for cover.
Zog, seeing his chance, tried to sneak around behind the other mage. But the human was too quick. He turned, his lips curling into a cruel smile as he spotted Zog.
"There you are," the mage said, his voice cold and mocking. He raised his hand, a ball of red energy forming in his palm. Zog tried to dodge, but the blast struck him square in the chest, sending him flying into a tree. He slumped to the ground, groaning in pain.
Rok screamed, his voice raw with desperation. "Zog!"
But his cry only drew the attention of the injured mage. The man turned toward Rok, his eyes blazing with hatred. "There you are," he snarled, raising his hand. Red energy gathered in his palm, the air crackling with power.
Rok tried to run, but he wasn't fast enough. The energy blast struck him in the shoulder, the force of the impact sending him sprawling to the ground. He clutched his wound, blood seeping through his fingers as he struggled to get up.
The two mages approached, their faces twisted with sadistic glee. "Pathetic creatures," one of them said, his voice dripping with contempt. "You never stood a chance."
He raised his hand, red energy swirling around his fingers as he prepared to deliver the final blow. But before he could, an arrow streaked through the air, striking him in the neck. The mage gasped, his hands clutching at the arrow as blood gushed from the wound. He stumbled backward, collapsing to the ground as he choked on his own blood.
The second mage turned, his eyes wide with shock. Another arrow flew, this one piercing his chest and emerging from his back. He looked down at the wound, his expression one of disbelief, before collapsing to the ground.
From the shadows, Grut emerged, his bow still raised. His face was grim, but there was a flicker of relief in his eyes as he saw Rok and Zog. He hurried over to them, helping Rok to his feet before moving to check on Zog.
"You okay?" Grut asked, his voice calm and steady.
Rok nodded, wincing as he clutched his shoulder. "Yeah... you save us."
Zog groaned, pushing himself up with Grut's help. "Grut save us," he said, his voice weak but grateful.
Grut smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Come on. Let's get to the cave."
The Cave Entrance
The three goblins made their way to the cave entrance, where the rest of the village's women, children, and elders had gathered. The atmosphere was tense, the air thick with fear and uncertainty. The goblins huddled together, their eyes wide with terror as they waited for news.
When Grut, Rok, and Zog arrived, the others rushed to meet them. The elder females, their faces lined with worry, immediately began tending to Rok and Zog's wounds.
"What happened?" one of the elder females asked, her voice trembling.
Grut knelt beside them, his expression serious. "Humans chased us. We kill them. But… many goblins are dead in the village. The chief is still fighting."
The others murmured among themselves, their fear palpable. But Grut's calm demeanor and clear words gave them a small measure of comfort. He was different from the others—his speech more refined, his presence more commanding. It was as if he carried a piece of Lok's spirit with him.
"We're safe here," Grut said, his voice firm. "We will wait for Lok. He will come. He will save us."
The goblins nodded, their faith in Lok unwavering despite the chaos around them. They huddled closer together, their eyes fixed on the cave entrance as they waited for their savior to arrive.