The world had exploded in light.
For an instant, Grekh lost all sense of time and space. There was no more forest, no more sounds of battle, not even the feeling of his own body. Just a blinding blue radiance, an energy so intense that it seemed to devour everything around him.
The heat was unbearable, yet it did not burn him. It was a raw, primal force, something that roared inside him like a caged beast trying to escape. He felt it spreading through every inch of his body, like a river of fire coursing through his veins. His muscles were stiff, trembling, refusing to respond.
His heart pounded like a war drum.
Then, the light began to fade.
Grekh fell to his knees on the scorched ground, gasping, his eyes wide. His entire body trembled. Every cell of his being felt rewritten by that unknown force. He opened and closed his fingers slowly, still feeling the residual heat pulsing in his skin.
That was when he noticed the silence.
The battlefield, once filled with screams and the clash of blades, was now a void of absolute stillness.
The humans were frozen.
Their eyes, which once carried contempt and sadistic amusement, were now wide with pure terror.
None of them moved. None of them breathed loudly.
It was as if they were standing before something they were never meant to witness.
One of the soldiers, a young man with a crooked helmet, swallowed hard and murmured, his voice weak:
— This… this isn't normal...
Another, older, took a step back, his fingers clutching the hilt of his sword so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
— This isn't possible. Goblins… goblins don't have magic.
Grekh knew that too.
But then… what was this?
He didn't have time to think.
The leader of the group, a warrior with deep scars across his face and armor worn by time, did not hesitate like the others. His eyes still burned with determination, even if a hint of fear trembled in his gaze.
— Kill him! Now!
The order sliced through the air like a whip.
The soldiers charged.
Grekh felt his instincts scream.
And then, something inside him reacted.
The flames erupted again, stronger than before.
It was as if the earth had been struck by thunder. The ground cracked beneath his feet, a wave of blue fire spreading like a raging storm. The nearest trees trembled violently, their leaves turning to ash in an instant.
The impact was brutal.
The humans were thrown back like leaves in the wind. Their armor clattered, their bodies twisted in the air before slamming against trunks and stones. Some landed face-first, coughing blood, while others rolled across the ground, struggling to regain their footing.
Grekh remained at the center of the storm of energy.
His eyes glowed an intense blue, as if magic itself was flowing through them. His breathing was ragged, his fingers trembled, but he felt no fear.
He felt something else.
Something primal.
He saw the warriors' leader rise again, gritting his teeth. His helmet had been torn away, revealing a face scarred and dripping with sweat.
But his expression was no longer the same.
Now, fear was there.
— Damn it… — the man muttered, spitting onto the ground. — I won't run from a goblin!
He charged.
The sword gleamed under the moonlight, its blade clean, sharp, thirsty for flesh.
Grekh felt his heart race.
And then, the blue flame inside him responded.
This time, he didn't have to think. His body already knew what to do.
He raised his arm.
A torrent of blue fire burst from his palm.
The warrior had no time to react.
The magic engulfed him completely.
His scream tore through the silence of the night, a sound of pure horror and agony. The fire consumed his body without mercy, devouring his flesh, burning every part of him in an overwhelming blaze.
And then, he was gone.
When the flames finally dissipated, there was no man left.
Only ashes.
The other soldiers watched in utter horror.
Their eyes, once merely frightened, now brimmed with absolute despair.
One of them, shaking, dropped his sword and took a step back.
— R-run—
He never finished his sentence before his own comrades were already fleeing.
Fear had overtaken them completely.
The humans, who moments ago had advanced with arrogance, now ran like desperate animals. They abandoned everything— weapons, shields, even their fallen allies.
The massacre they had intended to inflict had become their own.
Grekh stood still, watching them disappear into the forest.
Had he… won?
He looked around.
Goblins' bodies lay scattered across the ground. Some still bore frozen expressions of pain, their empty eyes staring into nothingness. The scent of blood was thick in the air, mingling with the smell of charred wood and shattered earth.
His tribe's cave was in ruins.
The fire that once warmed his home was now nothing more than dying embers.
He stumbled forward, feeling his strength abandoning him.
There was no one left to celebrate his victory.
No one.
He felt no pride. No glory. Only a growing emptiness, a void opening inside him.
Exhaustion struck like a hammer.
His legs gave out. He collapsed to his knees, his arms heavy as stones. His breathing grew shallow, his vision blurred.
His entire body was drained. It was as if that explosion of power had siphoned away all his energy, leaving him teetering on the brink of collapse.
He tried to understand what had happened.
But his mind was hazy.
What… was that fire?
Why could he control it?
He was a goblin. Goblins didn't have magic.
So, why?
Why?
He felt the ground beneath him, damp and cold. The blood mixed with the earth formed a dark sludge. The bodies around him were just twisted shapes in the dim light.
His heart was still racing, but with each passing second, its rhythm slowed.
The moon, once bright in the sky, now seemed blurry, as if it too were fading along with his consciousness.
His eyes, once wide in shock, now began to close.
A final breeze swept through the clearing, carrying with it the scent of blood, ash, and iron.
Before his vision went completely dark, a single thought echoed in his mind.
What am I?
Then, everything turned black.