"Hahh… hah…"
Soren sucked in air that tasted like smoke and blood, and it shook on the way out.
His hands were slick, his fingers cramped around the dagger as if it had fused to his skin, and when he tried to pull the blade free it stuck for a second, held by meat and bone, then slid out with a wet, sucking sound that made his throat tighten.
He wanted to gag.
He didn't, only because he was terrified that if he started he wouldn't stop.
He scrambled back off the corpse, knees slipping in mud, and staggered upright.
Everything hurt.
His forearms burned where the goblin had scratched him, his chest stung under torn cloth, his shoulder throbbed from the bite, and his legs felt like someone had poured lead into them.
He lifted his head, forcing his gaze back to the hobgoblin.
It hadn't moved.
It was still smiling.
Soren let out a hollow laugh that sounded too close to a sob to be satisfying.
"Haha… yeah… yeah, alright, I get it… I get it…"
'Why do I have to deal with this? It's just looking at me as entertainment.'
And the worst part was the goblins behind it, the way they stood, silent, obedient, watching their own kind die without even a hiss of protest, because the hobgoblin's presence made them into props.
'I knew hobgoblins were treated like kings amongst goblins, but this is…'
The hobgoblin stroked its chin, theatrically thoughtful, pride written into every slow movement, then barked something out, sharp and commanding.
[Keeuraak! Kekeke.]
Two goblins stepped forward immediately, torches held high, eyes bright, shoulders back, as if they had been chosen for a privilege.
[Keraak!]
[Keuuuak—!!]
Soren blinked, sweat running into his eyes.
"Huh…?"
For a second, in the middle of fear, he felt something almost like disbelief.
'Is… Is this thing stupid?'
If it rushed him with all fourteen, he would die, no question, but it was sending them in pairs, in neat little waves, dragging the moment out, making a show of it.
It wasn't stupidity.
It was pride.
It was the certainty that no matter what Soren did, the hobgoblin could end him whenever it got bored.
Soren's jaw clenched so hard it ached.
'Fine. If you're going to be arrogant, I'll use it.'
His hands lifted again, mana dragging up reluctantly, and a new circle began to form, wobbling at the edges.
Wooong—
He tightened his grip on the dagger until the rust bit into his palm.
He swallowed, forcing his lungs to work, forcing his legs to hold, and the spell snapped into place.
"Huff… 「Gaia」!"
Mud surged again, thick and hungry, swallowing goblin feet, and both goblins lurched, torches bobbing wildly.
One of them managed to yank a leg free faster than the other, stumbling forward, dagger raised, and Soren didn't wait for it to find its balance.
He kicked.
Not clean or skilled, just a brutal boot to the shin that made the goblin yelp, and when it swayed he slammed his shoulder into it, driving it down into the mud with his weight.
They went down hard, Soren landing half on top of it, elbow jarring.
The goblin tried to stab up at him, the crude blade scraping across Soren's side, tearing fabric and skin, and pain flared bright enough that his vision flashed.
Soren screamed, a short, furious sound, and grabbed the goblin's wrist with both hands, twisting until joints popped.
The goblin shrieked, torch dropping, flame hissing as it kissed mud, and Soren shoved the wrist down, pinning it.
He drove the dagger into its throat.
The blade met resistance, thick corded muscle, then pushed through, and warm blood surged out immediately, spilling over his hand, running down his wrist.
The goblin's mouth opened, but the sound that came out wasn't a scream, it was a wet, bubbling choke, blood frothing around its lips.
Soren's stomach turned.
He didn't stop.
He dragged the blade sideways, messy, sawing, because his strength wasn't enough for a clean cut, and he felt it catch on something inside, a horrible tug, and the goblin's hands clawed weakly at him before they finally went slack.
[+1P]
He didn't look at the notification, he barely registered it, because the second goblin was still half stuck in the mud and now it was ripping itself free with frantic strength, eyes wide, torchlight jerking as it moved.
Soren pushed himself up, slipping in blood and mud, and his foot slid out from under him, sending him stumbling.
The goblin lunged.
Soren reacted on panic, not skill, and threw his left hand up instinctively.
"「Aqua!」"
A small, unstable sphere burst into existence, not a clean orb but a trembling blob of water that wobbled like it might collapse, and he hurled it forward without thinking.
It splashed across the goblin's face, water pouring into its eyes and mouth, and it sputtered, staggering, blind for half a second.
That was all Soren needed.
He slammed into it, tackling it sideways, and they hit the ground with a wet slap.
The goblin snapped its teeth at him, water and spit spraying, and Soren shoved his forearm into its throat, pressing down until it gagged, then raised the dagger.
He didn't aim for the skull this time.
He aimed under the jaw, where flesh was softer, where bone wasn't as thick, where he could feel the pulse jumping.
He stabbed upward.
The blade sank in with a sick, dense resistance, and the goblin convulsed, eyes rolling, hands scrabbling at Soren's arm, nails digging in, but Soren kept pushing, teeth clenched, shoulders shaking from effort, until the dagger hit something hard and he felt a tiny, awful crunch.
The goblin's body went rigid, then shuddered.
Blood poured out around the blade, hot and slippery.
Soren's breath hitched, half a sob, half a laugh of disbelief that it had worked.
[+1P]
He rolled off it and lay there for a second, staring up at the black canopy above, torchlight flickering through leaves, chest heaving so hard it hurt.
His whole body was screaming at him to stop, to curl up, to give in, because this was too much, this was ridiculous, this was unfair, and he wasn't supposed to be doing this, he was supposed to be sitting behind a screen with a keyboard and mouse in his hands.
Instead he forced himself upright again, shaking, drenched in sweat, smeared in goblin blood and mud, and looked up.
The hobgoblin was laughing.
Not quietly either, but openly, head tipped back slightly, shoulders shaking, as if Soren's struggle was the funniest thing it had seen all its life.
[KEKEKEK!!!!!]
Its pride was suffocating, the certainty that this was a performance staged for its enjoyment, and Soren hated it so much he felt it in his teeth.
'Laugh all you want.'
His hands tightened around the dagger again, and he realised, with a grim little jolt of understanding, that he was already changing how he moved, already learning in the ugliest way possible.
He didn't have finesse.
He didn't have strength.
But he had weight, mud, a blade, and a growing list of soft places to stab.
And thirteen minutes to stay alive.
The hobgoblin made another sharp gesture, barking out an order that sounded impatient, like it was calling for the next act to hurry up.
Three goblins stepped forward this time, torches held high, eyes bright, shoulders squared, and the rest stayed back in a loose ring, silent and obedient, watching.
Soren's mouth went dry.
Three was too many.
Two had already felt close to impossible, and he was bleeding, his hands were slick, his arms were shaking, and his mana felt thin, like he was scraping the bottom of a cup with his fingernails.
His eyes flicked to the quest window again, because he couldn't help it, because he needed to see time moving, needed proof that every second mattered.
.
▶ Survive ◀
[3:12/13:00]
.
'Only three minutes?'
It felt wrong, like it should have been ten already, like he should have aged a year in the space of those kills.
His chest tightened, panic threatening to rise again, and he swallowed it down so hard it hurt.
'Stall, Isaac. Just go slow, then I can live,' he told himself, desperately forcing himself to not fall here.
He formed another circle, the lines wobbling, mana slipping.
One goblin broke from the group, faster than the others, rushing, dagger raised, and Soren's breath caught.
He snapped the spell out early.
"「Gaia!」"
Mud surged, but not as wide this time, more focused, because he couldn't afford to waste mana, and he aimed for the goblin's feet rather than the whole ground.
It worked.
The goblin's legs sank, it pitched forward with a startled squawk, and Soren lunged, but the second goblin was already coming from the side, torch swinging like a club.
The flame's heat washed over Soren's face, and instinct made him flinch, his shoulders hunching.
The torch hit his upper arm.
Pain flared, sharp and immediate, and the smell of burnt fabric filled his nose.
He yelped, stumbling, and anger roared up so hard it almost drowned out fear.
"Fucking bitch!"
He swung his fist without thinking, knuckles connecting with the goblin's jaw.
It hurt him as much as it hurt the goblin, a jarring impact that made his fingers scream, but the goblin's head snapped to the side and it staggered.
Soren didn't admire it.
He kicked the goblin's knee, then shoved it with both hands, sending it off balance into the mud edge where it slipped and flailed.
The first goblin was still stuck, arms windmilling, and Soren threw himself down onto it, pinning it hard.
It thrashed, claws tearing at his sleeves, and Soren felt fabric rip again, more skin opening underneath.
He grit his teeth, shoved the goblin's weapon arm into the mud, and drove the dagger into its eye the way he had before, because it was fast, because it worked, because he didn't have the luxury of creativity.
The blade slid in with that same horrible give, and the goblin screamed.
Soren pushed deeper, ignoring the spray of hot blood, ignoring the way his stomach lurched, and when its body went slack he yanked the blade free and turned immediately, because the third goblin was already on him, dagger thrusting for his stomach.
Soren twisted, barely avoiding it, feeling the blade scrape his uniform, and he grabbed the goblin's wrist mid-thrust.
Its skin was rough and slick, and it jerked hard, stronger than its size suggested.
Soren's grip almost slipped.
He snarled, drove his knee up into its stomach, and when it doubled over he headbutted it, because apparently that was who he was now, someone surviving by turning into something ugly.
The goblin stumbled back, dazed.
Soren's breath was ragged, his vision swimming, and he made a choice that felt insane but necessary.
"「Aqua!」"
A small burst of water splashed into the goblin's face, not enough to drown it, not enough to do anything clever, just enough to blind it, to make it sputter and wipe at its eyes.
Soren rushed it, shoved it down, pinned it with his weight, and drove the dagger under its jaw again, angling up.
The blade caught on bone for a second, then punched through with a tiny crunch, and the goblin's limbs went rigid before shuddering.
Blood ran down Soren's hands, pooling in the mud beneath.
[+1P]
[+1P]
Two notifications in quick succession, his kills stacking up, and he didn't feel proud, he felt sick, but he also felt something else, something thin and sharp.
Momentum.
The goblin with the torch, the one he had shoved earlier, was finally getting its feet under it, trying to rush him again, face twisted in rage.
Soren didn't give it the chance.
He grabbed the fallen torch from the ground, fingers closing around hot wood, and hissed as it burned his palm.
Then he swung it up into the goblin's face.
Flame licked across green skin, the goblin shrieked, hands flying up, and Soren drove the dagger into its throat while it screamed, the blade sawing messily because his hands were shaking too much for precision.
Blood sprayed, hot against his wrist.
The goblin gurgled, collapsed, and twitched.
[+1P]
Soren staggered back, dropping the torch, shaking his burned hand, and for a moment the world tilted.
He breathed in smoke, breathed out blood-scented air, and his stomach churned so hard he thought he might vomit.
He swallowed it down again, because he didn't have time to be human.
The hobgoblin made a sound that might have been applause if it hadn't been so cruel, then barked again, impatient now, amused but demanding more.
Four goblins stepped forward.
Soren's heart sank.
'This never ends.'
He glanced at the timer again, almost afraid.
.
▶ Survive ◀
[6:47/13:00]
.
Halfway.
He was only halfway and he felt like his body was falling apart, like every muscle fibre was fraying, like his lungs were made of paper.
He wiped sweat off his face with his sleeve and smeared blood across his cheek instead, because nothing on him was clean anymore.
He tightened his grip on the dagger.
The rusted handle was slick, his fingers cramped, and he could feel blisters forming under the grime.
'Think. I need to think of something. Anything. Just… stall.'
The goblins came faster this time, two rushing together, one circling wide, one hanging back with a torch.
Soren cast [Gaia] again, but narrower, aimed like a trap rather than a blanket, and when the first goblin's foot sank he lunged, grabbing it by the ragged collar and yanking it down hard.
They hit the ground, and Soren drove his elbow into its face, then stabbed into the ear, because ear was soft, because ear wasn't skull.
The blade went in with a wet crunch, and the goblin screamed so sharply Soren's ears rang.
He shoved the dagger deeper anyway.
The scream cut off into a shudder.
[+1P]
The second goblin was on him immediately, clawing, dagger slashing, and Soren took a cut across the forearm that made his hand go numb for a second.
He swore, loud, raw, and punched the goblin in the nose.
Again, his knuckles screamed, but the goblin reeled, and Soren used the moment to kick its shin, shove it into the mud patch, and drop his full weight onto its chest.
It tried to buck him off.
Soren shoved his forearm into its throat and stabbed under the jaw again, the move already becoming muscle memory, disgusting and practical.
Blood spilt over his burned palm, stinging, mixing pain with heat.
[+1P]
The goblin with the torch tried to bring it down on Soren's head.
Soren rolled, barely, mud sucking at him, and the torch slammed into the ground where his skull had been, sending sparks up.
He reacted with pure spite.
He grabbed the torch head with his bare hand, ignoring the burn, and jammed it into the goblin's face.
Its shriek was muffled by flame and smoke, skin blistering, and Soren stabbed it in the eye while it flailed, the blade sliding in with that awful give, hot blood splashing.
[+1P]
The last goblin in the wave tried to run, maybe frightened, maybe simply smarter, but the hobgoblin's bark stopped it, and it turned back with a resentful snarl.
Soren didn't let it hesitate.
He cast [Aqua] again, a quick splash that struck its face, and when it blinked and sputtered, he slammed into it, tackled it down, and this time he didn't even try to be neat.
He stabbed into its mouth, the blade scraping teeth, then pushed hard until it punched into the back of its throat.
The goblin's hands clawed at his wrists, weak and frantic, and its body bucked, then sagged.
[+1P]
Soren lay over it for a second, chest heaving, saliva thick in his mouth, eyes stinging from smoke and sweat.
He pushed himself up, hands shaking so badly the dagger almost slipped.
His whole body felt cold despite being drenched, adrenaline burning through him and leaving the edges numb.
The hobgoblin was still laughing.
Still.
Tears actually glittered in its eyes in the torchlight, as if Soren's suffering was the most delightful thing it had ever seen.
Soren wanted to kill it so badly it made his teeth ache.
'Come over here. Come over and fight me yourself you smug bastard.'
He knew it wouldn't.
That was the point.
It didn't have to, and it wanted him to understand that, wanted him to feel it in every second it stretched out.
Every time Soren cleared a wave, the hobgoblin sent out more, not because it needed to, but because it could, because its pride demanded an audience, demanded proof that it owned the forest and everything in it, including this stupid human who had thought torchlight meant rescue.
Soren's breathing turned ragged, his body swaying on his feet, but he noticed something, small and infuriating.
He was… faster.
Not fast in a graceful way, not skilled, but faster to commit, faster to choose a target, faster to aim for eyes and throats and ears instead of useless skull.
His hands still shook.
He was still terrified.
But he wasn't freezing anymore.
That realisation made him laugh, a short, ugly sound that startled even him.
He didn't know if it was hysterical or triumphant, and he didn't care.
The hobgoblin barked again.
Five goblins stepped forward, torches bobbing, blades raised, and the ring of silent bodies behind them tightened, watching, waiting.
Soren lifted the dagger, blood drying on the rust, his grip trembling, shoulders hunched, uniform shredded, skin stinging everywhere it had been opened.
He glanced at the quest window one more time, eyes flicking to the timer with dread.
He didn't see comfort there.
He saw an ending approaching, and he saw himself still standing.
The hobgoblin spoke once more, for the final time, its voice thick with satisfaction, and the last five goblins walked towards the human who looked ready to collapse.
'It's the final wave.'
————「❤︎」————