4th Day of 3rd Water Cycle[1], 1999 g.c.
The cave had turned into a warzone, drenched in blood and the remnants of bodies that were now unrecognizable. It was as if we were trapped in a painting of carnage, with streaks of green and blue spattered across the walls. The coppery scent of blood mixed with the earthiness of the cave's magitons and the sickly, acrid stench of inner organs spilled from the goblins. I could feel my nostrils flaring with every breath, taking in the intoxicating smell. Strangely, it didn't repulse me. The gory scene of blood and guts was starting to feel... good. There was a primal satisfaction crawling inside me, a raw excitement that curled up from my gut. The more we killed, the more I felt this rising, twisted joy, like battle and death had become some kind of pleasure. Was I supposed to feel like this? I wasn't sure. But I couldn't deny the strange sense of happiness that crept in with each life snuffed out.
The Wolfpak stood united, shoulder to shoulder, forming a line as they faced down the enemy's reinforcements. Across from us, a platoon of Hobgoblins and Watchers loomed, their grotesque forms silhouetted in the dim lighting of the cave. The Watchers, in particular, were unsettling. Their huge hollow eyes glowed faintly in the darkness, and their leathery wings twitched as they advanced. A chorus of low, guttural moans came from their throats, sending shivers up my spine. The atmosphere felt like it was growing thicker, charged with mana and tension. The air was crackling with so much power that my own skin began to tingle, microsized mana sparks dancing along my arm and neck.
My excitement was growing, that thrill bubbling up inside me, the mana signatures from these things far surpassing what I expected. These weren't ordinary B-Class creatures. They were stronger—far stronger than Moltenfang Direwolves, at least. A part of me wondered if [Moon Sage: Tsukuyomi] had underestimated them. Maybe these Watchers weren't as simple as they appeared.
Luda stepped forward, the rest of us hanging back to watch. His presence demanded attention, calm and deadly. He slid his scarf up over his nose, the ends of it fluttering behind him in the wind created by his own aura. Only his jade-colored eyes were visible now, glowing with a faint light as he stared down the horde. His long, golden-yellow jacket flared out behind him, making him look almost regal in this slaughterhouse of a cave.
"I pity your waste of life," Luda said, his voice low but carrying across the cavern. "You just happen to be in my way."
With a smooth motion, Luda raised his arm and gestured toward the sky—or rather, the ceiling of the cave. Portals, golden and shimmering in the shape of radiant suns, materialized above our heads, suspended in the air like some divine executioner's tools. The air around us thickened, growing almost stifling as an ethereal energy filled the space. The portals began to glow brighter, and inside each, spears and javelins made of pure Yang Mana slowly appeared, hovering in place. Their surfaces gleamed with a bright, fiery glow, casting the entire cave in an eerie, golden light.
Luda's eyes narrowed. My nigga was serious now. Deadly serious.
"Now remove yourself from my sight." His voice cut through the tension, crisp and sure. "King's Barrage!"
The words sent a pulse through the air, and the outer rings of the portals flared with power, the spears shimmering in place as if ready to launch. Luda didn't waste another second. He snapped his arm forward, and with it, the first wave of spears shot out, fast as lightning.
"Die, vermin!"
The Watchers screeched, their wings flapping wildly as they rushed forward, attempting to dodge or close the gap between us. But it was too late. The first volley of spears tore through the air with a high-pitched whistle, slamming into their bodies with terrifying accuracy. The sound of flesh tearing and bones shattering echoed through the cavern as the spears hit their marks. Some of the Watchers tried to take flight, flapping desperately, but they were no match for the onslaught. They were picked out of the air like flies, their bodies dropping to the ground, twitching and bleeding.
One after another, the spears pierced through the enemies, leaving only mangled corpses in their wake. The Hobgoblins, bigger and burlier than their smaller kin, tried to shield themselves with their crude shields, but it was useless. The mana weapons tore through them just the same, their thick hides offering no protection against the barrage.
The blood splatter that followed was violent. Dark, almost cobalt-colored blood from the Watchers mixed with the sickly green of the goblins, creating a strange, swirling puddle of tie-dye beneath their fallen bodies. The stench of blood and burning mana filled the air, but in an odd, almost beautiful way, the carnage painted a grotesque yet mesmerizing picture.
We all couldn't help but smile. Watching Luda work was something else. His precision, his mastery—it was like art, a brutal, beautiful art form.
"Oh snap, when did he learn this?" Steez's voice broke through my focus, and I glanced at him. His face was a mask of shock, his eyes wide as he took in the scene.
"Damn," Alex murmured from behind him, his tone filled with awe as he watched the precision of each spear as it found its mark. "Luda's taking out the whole damn platoon, solo."
Luda was dominating. The portals continued to reload, each one firing off another round of spears or javelins without pause. The battlefield had turned into his personal shooting gallery, and the Watchers, once fearsome in their advance, were now nothing more than target practice.
As everyone focused on Luda's latest art of destruction, I felt the subtle pulse of my [Area Detection] skill spike. It wasn't just the familiar sensation of the cave full of dying goblins—it was sharper, more urgent. Two new mana signatures had appeared in the back of the cave, beyond the chaos where someone had been locked in combat with the Goblin King. That weaker signature, already struggling, was now fading fast. Its strength flickered, barely holding on. Whoever they were, they were on their last leg. But the two new signatures...
I couldn't shake the feeling I'd had earlier this morning. Something was off.
"What in the... Who in da fuck is that?!" The words tumbled out before I could stop them, my voice harsh, edged with disbelief.
Alex, just as rattled, muttered, "Creator be damned, whose signature is that?"
Even Luda, in the midst of his massacre, couldn't ignore it. The strength of those signatures was enough to pull his attention away from his one-sided slaughter of the goblinoids. He paused for just a moment, eyes narrowing as he glanced toward the back of the cave.
"Damn," Luda said, his voice low and serious. "Something new to be concerned about."
A chill settled over me, colder than any I'd ever felt. This was different. Whoever—or whatever—was back there, it was strong. I hadn't felt fear like this before. It wasn't the bone-deep terror that stops your heart, no... it was worse. It crept into my chest, cold and slithering, and wrapped itself around my spine. But before it could truly take hold, my skill, [Dominus Superbiae], flared to life, snuffing out the fear before it could fester. My nerves relaxed, my muscles unwound, and a wave of unshakable confidence washed over me.
But the mental worry? That lingered. And deep down, beyond the growing concern, I couldn't help but feel that constant flicker of excitement, again. The kind of thrill that comes when you realize you're about to face something truly dangerous.
[Midnight Star: Belial] stirred within me, finally showing interest. His deep, gravelly voice growled through my mind, the vibration of his tone enough to make my bones hum.
"We need to check out that source." His words dripped with anticipation. "This is the first one clearly stronger than Vericka. I know you wanna see who it is."
I did, but something about the mana didn't feel right.
"They don't feel friendly," I thought back, instinctively.
Belial's laughter rumbled through my mind, a sound more threatening than comforting. "Don't be a bitch. We want to fight them, anyway."
"At least let me regrow the rest of this arm first, damn," I retorted, glancing at the still-healing limb that hadn't fully regenerated yet.
"Am I still hearing bitch in your thoughts?" Belial quipped back, clearly annoyed by my hesitation.
I ignored him, adjusting my [Area Detection] to get a clearer read on the new mana signatures. But something strange was happening. The magitons in the air—those tiny particles of mana that fed me information—were starting to vanish, as if something was disrupting the flow of energy. My detection grew weaker, like trying to look through muddy water. Still, I could tell one thing for certain: one of the signatures was massive. Far beyond any of us in that cave.
And then there was the other signature. While not quite as powerful as the first, it was still stronger than the Goblin King. Its mana felt connected to the Goblin King, like they shared the same origin, maybe even the same bloodline. Family, perhaps.
My curiosity was piqued. I had to know what was going on in the back of the cave, where those new mana signatures were stirring up trouble. But before I could make a move, I took in the battlefield before me. The goblin horde, once numbering in the thousands, had been reduced to a mere shadow of its former strength. Luda had erased nearly 70% of the goblinoid force, and even the Watchers—those imposing sentinels who had arrived as reinforcements—were crumbling under the sheer scale of his attacks. The area was painted in fire and debris, Luda cutting through enemies like they were nothing more than leaves in a storm. He was a one-man army, and as much as I hated to admit it, he had things under control.
Seeing him handle it so effortlessly, though, stirred something in me. I couldn't resist messing with him.
"Aye, some shit happening in the back and we're missin' it. Hurry yo' ass up, L," I called out, voice thick with my usual mix of humor and impatience.
Luda barely reacted. He only slid his right eye toward me, the corner of his mouth twitching with mild annoyance.
"Shut yo' ass up. You can't even applaud good work right now," he replied, voice smooth with a subtle edge. "But fine, I'm also curious about the person stronger than you back there."
Before I could respond, Artamis jumped into the conversation, cocking his SCAR 20 with a new magazine, that signature smirk already in place. "Let me take care of it. I've got just the bullet for this situation."
A familiar, unsettling tingle of energy prickled at my senses. The air around me began to shift—thicker, more charged—and I instantly knew what was coming.
"Nigga, hell no. You're not really going to use that, are you?"
I didn't even need to think twice. [Moon Sage: Tsukuyomi] kicked in and the calculation of damage blitzed my mind, painting a vivid mental warning.
"Danger, Master. Artamis is about to use a nuclear bullet. I suggest placing a barrier in front of everyone," Tsukuyomi's voice echoed in my mind, calm but urgent.
I barely had time to react. "Hold up, Art! I don't think you need to use that shit here!" My voice rose as I shot him a warning glance, trying to halt him before things got too far.
But Art was already locked in, his eye glued to the scope of his rifle. The air snapped with tension as his finger squeezed the trigger.
"Boom."
One word. One pull. And just like that, the rifle spat out a nuclear-charged bullet, crackling with radioactive energy. It tore through the cave's atmosphere, lighting up the space with a deadly glow. I didn't need to guess what would happen next—I knew it. If that bullet hit, the entire cave and everything around us would be wiped off the map, obliterated in a blink.
"This stupid motherfucka," I cursed within my thoughts. "I gotta contain that explosion."
"Use a barrier," Tsukuyomi instructed, his voice still crisp and analytical. "It will catch all the energy released."
"Perfect."
The bullet rocketed through the air, speeding toward the remaining thirteen Watchers. 30 meters behind them, the remaining hundred goblins—too far from Luda's carnage but too close to the blast—stood unaware of the danger rushing toward them. They had no idea their end was approaching. The bullet hit like a sledgehammer of death, detonating in an instant.
In that moment, I threw up my right arm, mana surging from my chest like a river of energy, pouring into my hand as I activated my [Barrier Creation] skill and wove the barrier into existence. In an instant, a shimmering prismatic shell materialized, sealing the blast in. But I didn't stop there. I only had a split second to react, layering the barrier with two pocket dimensions, compacting the incoming explosion into a tight space, cutting off its escape.
The blast came roaring like a violent storm. Its power rattled the cave with a force that made the ground quake under our feet. The shockwave surged through the cavern like an earthquake, shaking the walls and ceiling, sending cracks spiderwebbing through the stone. I felt the tremor in every hair on my body, from the tips of my demonic ears down to my bones.
The Wolfpak, caught off guard by the magnitude of the explosion, instinctively shielded themselves, expecting to be swallowed by the blast. But as they opened their eyes, they saw the barrier I'd thrown up just in time, the prismatic dome holding strong. The energy, the debris, the heat—it was all contained.
Luda, always composed, cursed aloud. "What the hell, Artamis?!"
Alex let out a sharp breath. "Aaahh, shit!"
"Damnit, Art!" Steez grumbled, glaring at the sniper.
Artamis, however, just chuckled, not at all fazed by the chaos he'd nearly caused. "Hehehe."
The air inside the barrier shimmered with heat, and even though the explosion was contained, its raw energy radiated out. I could still feel the heat pressing against my skin, and the smell of destruction—burnt flesh, scorched rock, the pungent metallic tang of radioactivity—filled my nose. Smoke and ash swirled inside the barrier, lit by the fading glow of the nuclear bullet's energy.
I glanced up at the ceiling. Dirt and loose rocks trickled down, but the cave hadn't collapsed. Shaking, sure. Nearly destroyed? Definitely. But major crisis averted—for now.
Flashback:
43 Minutes Ago
Two miles deep into Goblin Cave, in the darkest, dampest part of the hill, sat a grim room faintly illuminated by torches and mana crystals embedded into the walls. It was a chamber of pure, primal horror, where death clung to the air like a thick fog. At its center, a barbarian throne crafted from pure magisteel—a twisted testament to strength and brutality—held dominion. Upon this throne slouched the cave's tyrant, a hulking, yellowish-green Hob-Goblin, his torso half-covered in a filthy sarashi wrap that barely concealed the bloated stomach beneath. He rubbed his gut with one hand, clearly satisfied after devouring his latest meal.
The remnants of that "meal" littered the floor around him. Scattered pieces of human artists and celestial children lay strewn across the ground in a grotesque display of dismembered limbs and torn flesh, making the entire room reek of death and decay. Their expressions of horror were frozen in rigor mortis, faces twisted in terror. Blood had pooled under them, painting the stone floor in a sickly dark red. Some bones were gnawed clean, their white gleam catching the low light. Other remains were half-chewed, shredded into unrecognizable chunks, adding to the macabre décor.
A red mustache adorned the Goblin King's face, streaked with dripping blood, though it was impossible to distinguish in the dim lighting, blending into the ruddy hue of his thick hair. He wore a crown—an imposing circlet of gold embedded with five Gem Mana stones that pulsed with waves of energy, glowing faintly as they fueled his reign over the goblinoid horde. His red eyes gleamed maliciously as they scanned the scattered remains before him, a satisfied grin stretching across his broad, hideous face. His great battle axe, resting against the arm of his throne, dripped blood, still fresh from hacking apart his recent victims. But most curious of all was the medallion hanging from the arm of his chair. A glistening bull-head set within a diamond and gold-plated circle, its alien shine seemed out of place, too regal, too sacred for this pit of despair.
In the background, the sound of heavy breathing and low panic echoed through the chamber. From the shadows emerged the trembling figure of a dwarven woman, her long pink French braid matted with dirt. Trapped in a crude iron cage, she patted the ground frantically, her hands searching the filthy dirt floor for something—anything—that might save her from this nightmare. Her glasses were smudged, but she didn't have time to clean them as her panic grew.
"Dripping dog shit, I can't believe I dropped it," she muttered under her breath, her voice shaking as she swiped dirt off her glasses with the back of her hand. "Please let it be somewhere in here."
She felt the cold grit under her nails as she continued patting the ground, her eyes darting nervously between the floor and the hulking beast on the throne. The thing she needed—a Magic Gem—was lost somewhere in the filth, her last hope slipping away with every second.
"I gotta find that damn Magic Gem. I know it's in here, somewhere," she whispered urgently.
The Goblin King, lost in the glow of his post-feast bliss, slapped his greasy forearm onto the armrest of his throne. He reclined into his chair, the sickening satisfaction of a killer who had indulged too much coursing through him. His wide, bloated form sank deeper into the magisteel throne, enjoying the moment.
"Great eats. Great eats. Watchers good hunt pets. Bring many eats," he grunted, his deep, guttural voice reverberating through the cave.
His red eyes flicked toward his caged prisoner, finally acknowledging her presence. He chuckled, watching her frantic movements with perverse amusement.
"Ha-ha. Weird dwarf panicking," he mocked, a twisted grin spreading across his face. "Don't cry. Eat you when hungry again."
The dwarf paused her search, realizing her efforts had been in vain. She stood, straightening up as much as the cramped cage would allow, and glared at the Goblin King with unyielding contempt, her eyes burning with defiance despite the overwhelming fear gnawing at her insides.
"Eat a dick! Like I would even let you taste me. This is not where Lysa Runefist dies," she spat, voice sharp with anger and resolve.
The Goblin King's laughter boomed through the chamber, shaking the walls with its sheer volume.
"Ha ha ha. Dead Dwarf talk funny," he replied, still grinning as he leaned forward, savoring the challenge she posed. "Spicy taste you might be."
Lysa's lips curled into a smirk, her eyes narrowing. "It doesn't matter," she said with quiet venom. "You'll never find out."
The tension between them was palpable, a bitter standoff as the Goblin King licked his lips in anticipation, while Lysa's mind raced, desperate for a plan, a way out of this death trap. All the while, the grotesque carnage of the room lingered like a haunting reminder of what fate awaited her if she failed to find that Magic Gem in time.
The Goblin King lounged back on his magisteel throne, the cold metal groaning under his bulk as he stretched, yawning lazily.
"Should sleep soon. Make room for Dwarf meal," he muttered, the low rasp of his voice echoing in the dim chamber.
A small tear formed in the corner of his red eye as the exhaustion of his recent feast caught up with him. His forearm smacked lazily onto the armrest again, smearing a fresh layer of blood across the magisteel as he settled back, oblivious to the danger lurking just feet away.
Unnoticed by him or his prisoner, a figure moved like a wraith, hidden by the [Invisibility] skill. The assassin weaved through the scattered remains of human artists and celestial children, the stench of death thick in the air, almost unbearable. His careful footfalls avoided the blood-soaked ground and loose stones that could give him away. A ghost in the shadows, his every movement was perfectly planned, each step precise, a dance with death no one else could see.
The blade struck before the Goblin King's next breath. A swift, lethal slice of steel aimed for the throat but veered off course, catching only the side of his jaw. Blood sprayed from the wound in a jagged arc as the Goblin King roared in pain, clutching his face, his bloodshot eyes wild with fury.
"AAAHH! Hurt! Who causes pain?" the Goblin King bellowed, his voice cracking with shock and rage.
In an instant, the assassin was exposed. His cloaking skill dissipated, revealing a tall healthy, ebony-skinned sociovore with short, twisted golden locks. His fierce green eyes, with their reptilian vertical slits, locked onto the Goblin King as he dashed past him, moving with the speed of a bullet. The warrior's backward-curved ivory horns gleamed in the dim light, almost blending into his hair. His face was twisted in frustration—his strike hadn't been fatal.
Lysa, finally looked up, her attention ripped away from her frantic search for the Magic Gem. Her eyes widened in surprise, and a flicker of hope sparked within her. She knew him. The unmistakable armor—black-plated leg guards with golden shins—and the long-sleeved green shirt beneath a white leather chest guard. Those glasses and horns.
"Jawz!! What are you doing here?" Her voice trembled between excitement and confusion, eyes wide with disbelief.
"What a silly question," Jawz replied with a smirk. "To save you, obviously."
He steadied himself, planting his feet firmly in a battle stance. His sword, a masterpiece of craftsmanship, glinted with gold and silver trims on its hilt. The flat guard design and the blade pointed squarely at the furious Goblin King, who was now snarling with murderous intent.
"Stoopid demon! I eat you for causing pain. I break you first," the Goblin King threatened, towering over Jawz as he reached for his blood-soaked great axe leaning against the throne.
Jawz chuckled, feigning confidence. "I had hoped to end this in one attack, but I'm not above a slugfest. Let's do this, then."
His sword gleamed under the dim light, steady in his grip, though tension crept into his muscles. The Goblin King was stronger than he had hoped, and this fight was going to be a lot harder than he had anticipated.
Before either could make a move, a sudden, oppressive wave of magical pressure washed over the room, hitting all three occupants like a tidal wave. The air thickened as if the magitons—those tiny mana particles—hugged each oxygen molecule, making breathing almost impossible.
"My word, who's mana signature is that?" Jawz whispered, his brows knitting together in confusion.
The Goblin King's nostrils flared, his instincts sharper than his wit. "Dangerous feeling. Unknown presence. They here to help you, demon?"
Jawz, mind racing, quickly capitalized on the Goblin King's uncertainty. "Oh, yeah. That's my backup," he said, nodding sagely, a lie forming as fast as the sweat began to trickle down his back. "They'll be here any minute. So, you might as well surrender. You're trapped."
The Goblin King's eyes darted, doubt creeping into his expression as the unknown mana signature pricked at his senses. For a moment, panic flickered across his grotesque face, an instinctive fear crawling up his spine.
Lysa, watching the tense exchange, felt the weight of the mana signature and realized something Jawz had already deduced—it didn't feel like anyone they knew. The energy was darker, more menacing. Yet, catching Jawz's quick wink, she jumped on the bluff without hesitation.
"Fuck yeah! You're gonna die when they get here. It's gonna be a goblin slaughter like you've never seen… or some shit."
Jawz smiled at her attempt to play along, even as his pulse quickened. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep up the bravado. The Goblin King was stronger than him, and this bluff was all they had. If it failed… He didn't let himself finish that thought.
The Goblin King, now fully convinced of the danger, scrambled for his medallion, leaping off the throne with a feral roar. The raised platform shook with the force of his landing, sending tremors through the stone floor.
"I no die here! I use power of angels!" he snarled, holding the glowing medallion high.
Its baby blue light pulsed, sending a shockwave of magical energy rippling through the cave. The energy spread in a sphere, touching every goblinoid within its reach. Immediately, the Goblin King's command reverberated through the cave.
"Wartime! Enemy outside coming to invade. Kill them all!"
Thousands of goblins and hob-goblins responded instantly. Their guttural cries echoed down the cavernous hallways as they prepared for battle, rallying with bloodlust in their eyes, marching toward the entrance in droves.
As the last echoes of the command faded, the medallion's glow shifted to a haunting teal green. Golden angel mana, sacred and otherworldly, swirled around the Goblin King. Ethereal doorways appeared before him, glowing with an eerie light, and from those portals emerged dozens of Watchers—leathery, alien creatures with twitching limbs and hollow, soulless eyes.
"Holy shit! What the hell are those?" Lysa's voice was barely above a whisper, her fear palpable as the Watchers poured into the chamber.
"Damnit," Jawz muttered under his breath. "Things just got worse."
The Watchers circled the Goblin King, their grotesque forms twitching and shaking as they awaited his command. His face, a mask of triumph, was smeared with dried blood from the earlier cut, and his red eyes glinted with renewed malice.
The Goblin King regained his composure, his grin returning as he gave the order. "Take souls of invaders. Bring me bodies to eat. Go, now!"
Without hesitation, the Watchers screeched and flew toward the exit, their feathery angelic wings beating the air as they ignored Jawz and Lysa entirely.
Jawz breathed a small sigh of relief. "Thank the Creator. I didn't want to have to deal with them as well." His grip tightened on his sword. "Now, to kill him and free Lysa."
But the Goblin King wasn't done yet. He snatched his great axe from the throne, its massive blade gleaming with residual blood, and slung the medallion around his neck. Absorbing the medallion's magical energy, he seemed to grow even larger, more menacing. The air crackled with power, and Lysa's breath hitched at the murderous intent that now hung between the two warriors like a heavy fog. The Goblin King's grin twisted into something monstrous as he raised his axe, ready to unleash an unholy power.
"Activate [Goblin Fury]!" the Goblin King bellowed, his voice shaking the very walls of the cave.
Scarlet-colored mana exploded from his body, forming a flaming miasma that wrapped around him like a cloak of fury. The ground trembled beneath their feet as his magical pressure reached a peak, making Jawz's sword tremble in his grip.
Jawz's heart pounded in his chest, the reality of the fight before him sinking in. "Lysa, just hold on for a bit. This is going to take longer than I planned." A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, his confidence beginning to falter.
Jawz stood firm, his black-plated boots grinding into the stone beneath him as he braced for the coming storm. The Goblin King, twice his size, loomed over him with rippling muscle and a bloodstained grin, his breath rancid and heavy. Scarlet mana fumed off the King like a deadly smoke, swirling around his hulking form in angry, erratic bursts. The weight of his presence pressed into the room, making it harder to breathe with each passing second. The floor trembled beneath his stomping feet.
The medallion around the Goblin King's neck pulsed faintly, feeding off his raw anger. Each tremor in the air added another layer to Jawz's unease. But, like always, he masked it behind a steady resolve, his glasses reflecting the faint glow of mana in the room. Jawz took a deep breath, his hand gripping his sword as mana began to pool in his palm. His body tensed, ready to spring.
"You're mine, demon!" the Goblin King roared, his great axe swinging down like a force of nature.
"Basic Wind Mana Arts: Aero Agility!"
With a quick chant, Jawz barely sidestepped the blow, his body blurring with a strong gust of air as Wind Mana fueled his movement. The axe slammed into the ground, sending shards of stone flying in every direction. The shockwave from the impact rattled the chamber walls.
"Damn, that's got weight behind it," Jawz muttered to himself, his voice tight.
The Goblin King moved with a speed that belied his size, bringing the axe back up for another wild swing, his rage uncontrolled but precise in its brutality.
Jawz dashed in, closing the distance before the Goblin King could recover. With a twist of his wrist, he slashed his sword across the Goblin King's leg, aiming for the tendons. But the strike barely pierced the flesh, the thick hide of the goblin's body repelling the blow. Blood trickled, but it wasn't enough. The Goblin King merely growled through the pain.
"That tickles, demon!" the Goblin King snarled, spinning around with a brutal backhanded swing of his axe. Jawz leaned back just in time, the blade whooshing mere inches from his chest.
"Why don't you bleed out already," Jawz spat, frustration leaking into his words.
The Goblin King let out a vicious laugh, swinging the axe overhead once more. Jawz responded by raising his sword, infusing it with Earth Mana. The blade thickened with an earthen green glow, its weight doubling as the force of his mana reinforced the weapon. He parried the blow, sparks flying from the clash of metal and mana-infused stone. But the King was relentless. He pressed forward, using his sheer strength to overpower Jawz. Each blow sent vibrations up his arms, numbing his muscles as he struggled to keep up.
Jawz's breathing quickened as he twisted his body, wind swirling around his legs. He shot backward, creating distance between them, sliding to a halt several feet away. Dust clouded the air from the force of his movements.
"Weak M-Cee can't hurt me?" the Goblin King mocked, his yellowed teeth flashing in a crazed grin. "Pathetic!"
Jawz narrowed his eyes. He needed a new approach. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, but his mind raced as he felt his own mana pulse within him, feeding him with the strength to continue.
"Let's test that thick hide of yours, then. Basic Earth Mana Arts: Stone Spikes," he muttered, planting his feet firmly on the ground.
With a deep breath, he summoned more bio mana into his legs, the energy surging from the soles of his boots and into the ground.
"Double Cast, Basic Wind Mana Arts: Aero Agility."
The ground beneath the Goblin King trembled before suddenly rising up in jagged spikes. The Goblin King's eyes widened as he stumbled, trying to find his balance. Jawz rushed forward in that moment, a wind-infused burst of speed propelling him as he aimed for the Goblin King's unprotected side. This time, the sword struck deeper. The blade bit into the Goblin King's ribs, cutting through his defenses.
The Goblin King bellowed in pain, blood spraying from the wound. But instead of faltering, he only became more enraged. His scarlet mana flared wildly, and with one furious swing of his axe, he sent the demon warrior flying back. Jawz crashed into the stone wall, gasping as the impact knocked the air from his lungs. His vision blurred momentarily, but he quickly shook it off, forcing himself to his feet as the Goblin King lumbered toward him.
"You think you stop me?" the Goblin King roared, his voice echoing off the chamber walls. He raised his axe again, eyes wild with bloodlust.
Jawz wiped the blood from his mouth, gritting his teeth. He could taste the adversity he was being placed up against. His legs felt heavy, he's knees weak, arm's spaghetti. The burning of his mana and the strain of the battle were starting to take their toll. He needed to finish this quickly.
But the Goblin King wasn't giving him any openings. With another swing, the axe came crashing down again, this time leaving a deep fissure in the floor. Jawz barely dodged, the wind at his back propelling him forward just as the ground splintered under the force of the blow.
"Run fast, demon rat!" the Goblin King taunted, his voice a rumbling growl.
"Basic Wind Mana Arts: Aero Agility!" Jawz yelled.
He had no time to respond offensively. Jawz infused his body with Wind Mana again, darting between the King's heavy attacks, looking for any chance to land another blow. But no matter how fast he moved or how much mana he poured into his strikes, the Goblin King's thick skin and raw power kept him at bay.
Jawz's breath hitched as exhaustion crept into his limbs. His legs burned with effort, his sword arm aching from the relentless barrage. The Goblin King was tiring too, but his brutal resilience made it clear that this fight wasn't going to end with just brute strength.
Just as Jawz prepared to make another attack, a deep pulse of energy radiated through the chamber. The Goblin King's medallion glowed with a sinister light, pulsing rhythmically as if in response to some unseen force. A low rumble filled the air, and Jawz felt the mana in the room shift, a new presence making itself known.
Behind the Goblin King, the air shimmered and warped, forming a swirling portal. The edges of the rift sparked with raw energy as two figures stepped out of the void—one massive and hulking with angelic black wings on his back, the other smaller but no less menacing. Taurus, exiting with his heavy armor, entered with a sinister smile. At his side stood a dapper-dressed hobgoblin with a pair of nunchaku on his belt.
"Things keep getting worse," Jawz muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing as the tension in the room doubled.
The Goblin King turned, confused at first before his malicious grin returned as he saw his reinforcements arrive.
"Boss and Big Brother? Now, demon. Tables switched. You're trapped."
[End of Chapter]
[1] November on Earth