The Blight poison streamed from the infectious rodent to the veins of the mist. Eyes of the mist goblin convulsed as it was shocked, but soon, stepping back, it narrowed its gaze and disappeared into the fog once again.
The mist around them churned like a living tide. Aaron steadied his breath, knees bending, ready to meet the creature again. It was somewhere ahead circling, observing, learning.
A low screech echoed from the gray void.
The goblin burst from the side without warning, claws cutting the air. Aaron shifted just in time. The tips of its talons scraped across his arm, shredding cloth and drawing a thin line of blood. He did not flinch. He slammed his palm against the goblin's chest and forced it backward with pure will.
The creature tumbled, rolled, and rose in a crouch. Its cloudy fur bristled. That sick yellow glow in its eyes flickered not just simple frenzied rage, but a unknown, instinctive fear.
A fear etched into every man, nature has born.
Aaron stepped forward.
The goblin lunged once more, both claws outstretched, desperate to overwhelm him. Aaron dropped low and spun, kicking the back of its knee. The creature crashed to the dirt with a feral snarl.
It tried to scramble away, but Aaron pinned one of its arms with his boot. The goblin screeched, its free claw swiping frantically in the air, unable to reach him. Aaron held its gaze, unblinking, cold, as if studying something deep behind those trembling yellow eyes.
The fog thickened. Whispering sounds distant, ancient bled through the air. Memories, past everything that Aaron has ever experience was shuffled before his eyes. The goblin froze for half a second, shuddering, as though some unseen authority had called its name.
Aaron tightened his grip on its wrist.
The creature shrieked with a nerve-ripping pitch and twisted violently. It ripped free, stumbling back. It didn't attack this time. It paced, back arched, hair on end, terrified… of him.
Aaron lowered his stance again.
Suddenly, he heard a sharp clinging sound. Before he could even wonder what it was, a window materialized in front of him.
System chimes
Integration with the mist…
Ability to bypass the mist wall—successful.
Reverse Shell has been achieved.
Without thinking further, Aaron asked immediately, "What is the monster before me?"
He expected the system to repeat that he did not have the authority. But to his surprise, the system responded with something else.
The system replied in a monotonous tone:
"Mist Goblins—creatures of memory, created by the Witch of the Mist. Beware, for none survive their encounter. They were once people, or perhaps only the echoes of those she remembered. Their bodies are cold and clouded, fur like condensed fog, eyes glowing sickly yellow from fear and hunger intertwined. They wander aimlessly until a living mind enters their territory… then instinct forces them to reenact the violence burned into their creation.
Danger Level: Reflection.
[Warning: Monster is not at the correct level of this Dungeon.]"
"[Penalized: Mist goblin stats have been reduced by 75%]"
He asked again, evaluating the mist goblin that stood frozen in place. It seemed too afraid to approach as if it was terrified of the system itself… but why?
He cried inwardly, "What's its weakness?!"
The system replied simply,
"Witch Memories. Located in the Mist Village, on the outskirts of the City of Brewing. "
Aaron knew what he had to do. Step by step, he backed away, muscles tight, eyes never leaving the mist goblin. The creature didn't move. It crouched low, head twitching, claws scraping the dirt, waiting for him to slip for even a blink.
He turned and ran.
The goblin shrieked and the chase exploded behind him. Aaron sprinted through the trees, lungs burning, paws slamming against uneven ground. Fog wrapped around him until the forest looked like a maze of pale shadows and crooked branches.
Leaves slapped against his face. Roots threatened to drag him down. Every breath was a gasp. Behind him, claws slashed bark, footsteps hammered the earth. The goblin stayed close, too close, driven by a primeval desire Aaron didn't understand.
A branch snapped somewhere above. Then another scream, high and broken echoed through the mist.
He didn't look back.
The forest thinned suddenly, and he stumbled out into a small clearing. A crooked hut leaned against a cluster of trees, built from rotting planks and moss-dark stone. A lantern hung at the entrance, glowing with a strange, pale fire.
The Witch's hut.
His legs didn't stop. They couldn't. He ran straight toward it, tearing across the clearing.
The goblin burst from the trees behind him with a violent snarl. Its claws raked the air, inches from his back. Aaron lunged, hand striking the doorframe.
The lantern flared, a sudden burst of white light.
The goblin froze mid-stride. Its whole body convulsed. A low, guttural whine escaped its throat. It backed away, trembling, eyes fixed on the hut with terror that hollowed its face.
Aaron pressed his palm against the wooden frame, steadying his breath, staring at the creature across the clearing.
It was running back into the forest, a hissing noise following from behind.
Finally, Aaron exhaled, his breath heavy, a sigh of relief.
Suddenly, he felt something looming above him. As he raised his head to look up, he saw an old woman, with spectacles perched on top of her eyes, trying to look toward the sound.
Her nose was crooked, her eyes wrinkled, her skin pale as snow. She wore glasses that had mist condensed on them only she knew how she was able to see through it.
With a creaky voice she said, "Weather is bad, isn't it? Little mouse."
Before Aaron could do anything, the witch flicked her wand, concealed beneath her thick, darkened indigo robes.
The clearing around them thickened with even more mist. It curled toward the doorstep, and everything before his eyes became completely shrouded by a blanket of white. He could no longer see the forest, only mist.
"Come inside, little mouse. It's cold today," she said, a smile perched on her lips.