The air was thick with the stench of disaster.
The sun had already crept over the horizon, but beneath the forest's shadowed canopy, its light barely touched the ground. Branches arched and tangled overhead, forming a suffocating dome.
The soil squelched underfoot—damp, sticky, as if soaked in blood. The trees were scorched, their bark torn in violent patches, as though a battle had raged here not long ago.
A foul medley of rotting flesh, sweat, smoke, and corruption stung the nose. Somewhere nearby, something was decomposing... and no one had bothered to remove it.
Crows circled above, their raspy calls croaking down a warning: You're next.
Kano felt a chill crawl down his spine.
This wasn't an adventure anymore.
This… was war.
The party of adventurers moved cautiously, a long and silent procession.
At the front—seasoned warriors and scouts.
In the center—mages, archers, and support.
At the rear—rookies.
Naira led her squad, her heightened senses twitching at something vile carried by the wind.
"Stop," she said quietly.
She raised a hand, and the group froze without a sound.
Her eyes—amber and molten like liquid gold—pierced the thickets ahead.
"What is it?" Kano whispered.
Naira lifted her chin slightly, inhaling deeply through her nostrils.
"Corpses. And something else."
The dwarf slowly drew his axe-hammer.
Beside him, the young spellcaster clenched her hands in rising dread.
Silence.
And then—they crept forward, and the horror revealed itself.
A caravan—or rather, what was left of it.
The wagons lay shattered, wooden wheels scattered like bones. Horse carcasses sprawled across the path, their bellies ripped open, intestines strewn like macabre decorations.
The humans… mutilated beyond recognition. Headless. Limbless. Torn like toys in a tantrum.
Dark stains of blood soaked the earth, still glistening, not yet dried.
Someone choked on their own bile.
"Merciful Gods…" one of the young mages murmured.
Naira knelt by one of the bodies. Her gaze hardened—she'd seen this before.
The wounds were crude, ripped open by hands, by teeth. The blood was fresh.
Goblins.
And they were close.
She stood, her fingers tightening around her axe's hilt.
Then came the stillness.
Too still.
Even the crows had gone silent.
Kano's heart pounded in his chest.
His gut twisted. Every instinct screamed, Run. Hide. Flee!
The fear of goblins was still there, buried deep like venom in his blood.
Something was watching them.
From the dark.
And then…
CRACK!
A mangled corpse dropped from the trees— landing dead-center among them.
Its face frozen mid-scream.
Mouth gaping, but tongueless. One eye gouged out, the socket a pulpy red crater.
The body hadn't even begun to rot.
One breath.
And the forest erupted.
They came from all directions.
Small. Gaunt. Spines twisted grotesquely. They moved like predators—quick, deliberate.
Eyes gleamed in the gloom—yellow, starving.
Their teeth were daggers, snapping for flesh.
They weren't feral.
They had waited. They knew.
First strike!
A goblin drove a spear through a warrior's chest. The man didn't even get to scream.
Second!
A young archer cried out as one of the wretches leapt onto her back and sank its teeth into her neck.
Third!
A goblin blade slashed through the air—aimed straight for Kano.
But Naira was already there.
She grabbed the goblin by the skull, lifted it one-handed, and snapped its neck with a dry crack.
The limp body dropped as she hurled it aside like filth.
"FORM UP! HOLD THE LINE! IT'S AN AMBUSH!"
The dwarf roared, slamming down one of his modified crystals—BOOM!
Kano tried to dodge the attack— but a goblin was already mid-air, lunging for him…
Darkness. Chaos.
Screams of men. Beastly shrieks of goblins.
The clash of steel.
Hell had begun.
The forest came alive with terror.
The morning mist no longer cooled—it scalded, like blood brought to a boil.
The air tore open with pain, battle cries, and the guttural screeching of goblins.
Underfoot, the earth turned to a grotesque stew of mud and blood.
The goblins came surging from the shadows.
They hadn't rushed in blindly.
They had waited.
They knew what they were doing.
They didn't fight head-on.
They struck dirty, low, with no hint of honor.
But then—what honor does a goblin know?
They leapt from trees, landing on the backs of warriors.
They dropped from the canopy, wrapping claws around the throats of mages, trying to slit them open mid-spell.
They jabbed spears at legs, sweeping adventurers off their feet.
They sliced tendons, leaving their prey writhing in the bloodied dirt, helpless and waiting for death.
One scream bled into another—goblin screeches echoing through the battlefield like a wicked choir, sowing panic through the ranks.
It was psychological warfare— fear as a weapon.
Kano barely kept up.
Beside him, a young warrior screamed as a goblin sank its jagged teeth into his thigh, tearing muscle from bone.
The man swung his sword desperately— too late.
Three more goblins were already on him, driving bone daggers into his chest and gut, then dragging him back into the dark like a feast.
It wasn't battle.
It was horror.
The goblins didn't just kill.
They dragged people off alive— tearing flesh while the screams still had breath behind them.
A cold dread surged down Kano's spine.
"Hold the line! Don't scatter!" Naira shouted, spinning her axe in a brutal flourish.
A goblin lunged at her.
A blur of claws and teeth, it aimed for her throat with terrifying speed.
Naira took half a step back, twisted her axe mid-air.
CRACK!
The goblin's head flew clean off, its body stumbling a few steps forward before collapsing in a heap.
Archers fired back, loosing arrows into snarling faces.
Mages raised barriers, shielding those retreating from the front.
Warrior shields locked into formation, forming a wall of iron and will.
The chaos began to shift—into strategy.
Kano turned—a goblin charged straight at him.
He stepped in, sidestepped, and swung his sword.
The green-skinned creature roared as the blade tore through its throat, collapsing to its knees, gurgling, clutching its ruined neck.
It was done.
Kano had done it—he had killed something thinking, something aware, with his own hands.
Something flared in his chest.
And it wasn't fear.
Suddenly—an explosion rocked the battlefield.
The dwarf had hurled one of his crystals—a shockwave tore through dozens of goblins, ripping them apart.
The formation began to advance.
Naira led the charge like a wrathful force of nature, her axe cleaving through flesh and bone with primal fury.
She didn't defend—she attacked.
And in that moment, as Kano gripped his sword and surged forward with the others, he felt something rush through him.
Energy. Purpose.
We can win, he realized.
We can fight back.
The first wave had been repelled.
The warriors stood, panting, wiping their blood-slick weapons.
But it was only the beginning.
Somewhere in the shadows, hundreds of yellow eyes still watched, unblinking.
The battle was far from over.
The scent of doom hung heavy.
The air reeked of smoke, sweat, and blood.
The forest was burning.
Flames crept between the trees like a cunning predator, raising the heat to unbearable levels, forcing the warriors to fall back—and from the darkness, they emerged.
Not just larger versions of their kin—these creatures were older, stronger, smarter.
They had instincts. Battle-hardened reflexes.
They didn't charge blindly like their lesser brethren.
They calculated. They hunted.
One of them swung a massive hammer—the adventurer in front didn't even scream.
His body simply vanished in a gory eruption.
Kano clenched his sword so tightly his knuckles turned white.
"This can't be real…"
With a furious bellow, a giant goblin smashed its fist into the ground, aiming to crush Naira.
She leapt aside—the blow hit the soil with a bone-shaking impact, hurling dirt into the air.
Kano darted in from the flank, slicing at the creature's tendon.
His sword met flesh—but the goblin's hide was like stone.
The blade barely sank in.
The beast roared in pain and whipped around, its arm lashing Kano aside.
He hit the ground hard.
But Naira was already on the move.
Her axe spun in her grip—she launched into a jump, twisted mid-air, and drove it into the giant's side.
CRACK!
Bones splintered.
The goblin howled—but still stood.
It reared for a counterattack—and then—something tore through the smoke like a phantom storm.
The goblin never saw it coming.
Its body jolted—then its neck was shredded in a blur of slashes.
A rain of flesh.
Its head dropped from its shoulders, unable to cling to what remained of its spine.
The goblin warriors nearby froze—terrified.
From the smoke, cloaked in his own shadow, stood Lurk.
Kano hadn't gotten a good look at him before.
Half-man, half-wolf.
Broad. Muscular. Feral.
His claws gleamed like blades, though he barely needed the two long daggers in his hands.
His fighting style wasn't trained.
It was predatory.
Relentless. Wild. Instantaneous.
He didn't block. He didn't hesitate.
Lurk spat blood onto the ground, grimacing like he'd just tasted something foul.
Then he wiped his mouth, eyes flicking toward Naira— she was still grappling with her own giant.
"Shall we start counting?" she called out with a sly grin.
Lurk nodded, teeth flashing.
"Let's see who racks up more kills."
He crouched, ready to leap.
Naira smirked, mirroring his stance.
And just like that—the slaughter resumed.
Amid the chaos, the young healer crouched behind the dwarf, trembling.
Her eyes were wide, overwhelmed.
Blood. Screams. Death everywhere.
Adventurers dying all around her.
Naira and Lurk moved like demons, soaked in goblin gore.
Kano cleaved a giant's limb clean off.
It was too much.
She couldn't focus—her hands shook uncontrollably, magic slipping through her trembling fingers.
"How... how can they be so strong…?" she whispered.
She felt useless.
Powerless.
And then—a hand rested gently on her shoulder.
The dwarf. Calm. Steady.
"Stay with us," he said. "You belong right here."
She blinked, took a breath—and nodded slowly.
The forest had become a blood-soaked battlefield.
But something had shifted.
Lurk had joined them.
Naira was smiling.
Kano, eyes burning, stood ready.
And even the frightened healer was finding her strength.
Now—now the goblins had a real fight on their hands.