Nathan moved when two patrols crossed paths.
The moment their attention drifted outward, he slipped forward—not over the wall, but through it. His shadow peeled away from his feet and slid across the stone, carrying him soundlessly over the low barricade before settling him back into shape on the other side. No noise. No scramble. Just a brief distortion where his outline should have been.
Inside the camp, the noise swallowed him.
Crackling fires. Low voices. Metal scraping against stone. Nathan let it wash over him as he drifted from shadow to shadow, never committing to open ground for longer than a step. Where the firelight was too strong, he sank into the darker edge of it and reappeared behind a hut, along a support pillar, or beneath a stack of crates.
He didn't hesitate to use Shadow Movement.
He used it constantly—but subtly. Short slips. Half-steps. Transitions so quick that they barely registered as movement.
A goblin glanced his way once, brow furrowing as a shadow slid across the ground where nothing should have been.
It snorted, scratched itself, and turned away.
Nathan didn't slow.
The huts were packed close together, their placement chaotic at first glance, but he could feel the intent behind it. Every structure broke sightlines. Every narrow path forced commitment. He let the goblins blunder through them while he ignored the lanes entirely, cutting through shadowed gaps they never thought to watch.
Once, a goblin stepped directly into his path.
Nathan flattened into the darkness beneath its feet, letting its shadow swallow him whole. The goblin paused, confused, then wandered off without another thought.
The farther he went, the quieter it became.
Fires burned lower. Voices dropped to murmurs. The common goblins thinned out, replaced by broader shapes lingering near the main routes—goblins that watched instead of wandering. Nathan avoided them completely, slipping past entire stretches of ground in a single breath, never giving them the chance to notice what the others ignored.
Ahead, the cave narrowed.
The wide chamber gave way to a single tunnel sloping inward, its stone darker, smoother, marked by old stains left to dry rather than cleaned away. No huts crowded this space. No fires burned here.
"This is it," Nott said quietly, drifting closer. No teasing. No humor. "Beyond this isn't meant for the stupid ones."
Nathan paused at the mouth of the tunnel, letting his shadow stretch ahead of him before pulling himself forward into the dark.
Whatever ruled this place didn't rely on ignorance.
And it was waiting.
"Nott, I don't think they are gonna welcome me inside to have a nice talk, are they?" Nathan looked at her as she popped out of his soul-space.
She stared ahead at the goblin warriors, shock flashing across her face.
"Nathan. Those aren't like any other goblin warriors I have seen. There must have been an evolutionary change within their ecosystem. These are way stronger. And smarter, scaryily smarter."
Nathan froze. The warriors ahead wore prideful smiles, looking at him not as a threat, but as entertainment.
The first goblin warrior moved without warning.
Not a shout. Not a roar.
Just a sudden step forward, heavy and deliberate, stone grinding under its boot as it closed the distance. The second shifted at the same time, angling wide to cut off the chamber's edge and force Nathan away from the tunnel behind him.
So that's how they want it.
Nathan let himself sink into the shadow pooling near the chamber wall, the darkness folding around him as he slid sideways through it. The movement was slower than it should have been, the shadows resisting just enough to make him grit his teeth—but it worked. He emerged several steps away, already turning.
The warriors didn't panic.
They adjusted.
One changed direction immediately, weapon lifted to intercept. The other didn't follow Nathan at all, instead stepping closer to the hut, narrowing the space and limiting Nathan's angles. They weren't chasing him.
They were containing him.
"These two aren't stupid," Nott said quietly. "Don't treat them like the others."
Nathan ducked back into the shadow as a crude blade swept through the space he'd just occupied. The darkness dragged at him again, heavy and uncooperative, forcing him to commit fully to the movement instead of slipping through on instinct. He emerged low, close, and struck—steel biting shallow against thick hide before he pulled back immediately.
The warrior barely flinched.
It turned toward him slowly, eyes locked, posture steady. No rage. No confusion. Focus.
'Great,' Nathan thought. 'They're disciplined.'
The second warrior advanced, shield raised, forcing Nathan to retreat toward the mounted heads. The pressure there was worse—overlapping auras pressing against his awareness, tugging at his attention just enough to dull his timing.
He couldn't stay still.
But he couldn't rush either.
The warriors pressed in tandem now, one striking to drive him back, the other holding ground, denying escape routes. They weren't trying to kill him quickly. They were testing him and wearing him down.
Nathan steadied his breathing, adjusting his grip on his daggers as he watched their footwork, their spacing, the way they moved without ever crossing each other's lines.
These weren't guards meant to win.
They were meant to make sure no one reached what lay beyond.
And if Nathan wanted to pass, he'd have to break them—cleanly, decisively—before the thing behind that hut decided to stop waiting.
Nathan stopped retreating.
Another step back brought his heel too close to the mounted heads, their lingering pressure dragging at his focus just enough to throw off timing. Something cold settled in his chest.
'If I keep giving ground, I die.'
Shadow Movement wasn't useless—but it wasn't his domain here. Not fully. The darkness resisted, clung, pressed back like stone soaked in tar.
So Nathan changed how he fought.
He slipped into shadow again, not to escape, but to stay close. The resistance wrapped around him immediately, thick and suffocating, but he forced himself deeper instead of through. The darkness dragged, fought, slowed him—but it couldn't eject him if he didn't try to travel far.
When he emerged, it was beneath the first goblin warrior's guard.
Steel flashed.
Mistilteinn cut low, biting into the warrior's leg where armor thinned. Bone cracked. The goblin stumbled, balance finally breaking. Nathan didn't chase. He vanished again in a short, brutal shift, reappearing behind it and driving Carnwennan up beneath its ribs.
The warrior shuddered once and went limp.
The second goblin reacted instantly.
Its shield slammed into Nathan's side, driving the air from his lungs as he hit the stone. Pain flared, sharp and blinding, but Nathan rolled with it, barely avoiding the downward strike that shattered the ground where his head had been.
"Good," Nott snapped. "You forced the opening."
Nathan dragged himself upright, breath burning. His shoulder screamed as he raised his daggers, but he held steady.
The remaining warrior didn't hesitate.
It pressed forward hard, abandoning containment in favor of execution. Nathan slipped into shadow again, the resistance nearly locking him in place. He forced it, emerging too close, too slow.
Steel still met flesh.
The warrior roared as Carnwennan opened its side. It swung wildly, desperation breaking discipline, and that was enough.
Nathan stepped in and ended it.
The goblin warrior collapsed at his feet, its presence vanishing as abruptly as its life.
Silence fell.
Both gates lay broken.