Chapter 10 — The Goblin's Nest
"Come on," Sam whispered. "Let's finish this."
The goblins howled, charging at him all at once.
Sam didn't hesitate. He lunged forward, spinning the crude pike and driving its sharpened end straight through the chest of the nearest goblin. The puncture burst green blood across his torso, hot and slick, but he didn't care—he twisted the weapon free, ducking under the wild arc of another blade.
The wounded goblin didn't die immediately. It collapsed onto its knees, clutching its chest and screeching through bubbling breaths. The sound was raw and beastly, but Sam's eyes were already elsewhere—focused, calculating.
The air filled with snarls and guttural grunts. The remaining goblins moved as one, rage distorting their features into something feral. They came in a blur of motion and noise.
One lunged first. Sam sidestepped, the pike snapping out in a blur to impale its back. The force of the strike drove through flesh and bone until the tip burst from its stomach. Before the creature could even scream, he yanked the weapon upward, splitting its torso apart. Then, pivoting sharply, he swung the blunt end into the skull of the goblin still kneeling in pain.
Crunch. The sound was dull and final. The body slumped to the ground, twitching once before going still.
Two goblins remained—one with a jagged sword, the other gripping a wooden club roughly carved from some unknown tree branch. They exchanged a guttural cry and charged together, their steps thudding against the dirt.
Sam met them head-on.
His movements were sharp, instinctual—driven not by training, but the raw desperation of someone with something to lose. He ducked beneath the sword's swing, feeling the wind graze his hair, then thrust the pike upward through the goblin's chin. The bone pike pierced out through the top of its skull in one clean motion.
The body stiffened. Green blood splattered across Sam's cheek as he tore the pike free and spun, slamming its blunt end into the stomach of the last goblin.
The impact was bone-shattering. The goblin crumpled forward, gasping, ribs crushed beneath the blow.
For a moment, silence. Only Sam's hurried breath filled the air.
The wounded goblin clawed at the ground, trying to crawl away. Sam's eyes—cold and steady—followed it for a beat. Then, without hesitation, he thrust the pike once more, crushing its throat.
A wet gurgle escaped its lips. Then stillness.
Panting heavily, sweat glistening on his brow, Sam lowered the weapon. Green blood pooled around his boots. Five bodies lay motionless across the clearing, the air thick with the metallic tang of death.
His hands trembled—not from fear, but from the lingering adrenaline burning through him. He exhaled slowly, a low sound somewhere between relief and exhaustion.
He crouched beside the nearest body, ready to dig into its chest cavity—but stopped. His gaze shifted across the corpses. He could feel the energy still lingering in them. Their cores pulsing faintly beneath decaying flesh.
But….
"No need to waste time removing them," he muttered.
He could just devour them together—bod and core,
Stretching his hand over the bodies, he whispered the single word that had already begun to define him.
Devour.
The air darkened. Shadows rippled from his hand, coiling and twisting like hungry serpents before lashing out. They wrapped around the corpses, seeping into their flesh and bone, swallowing them whole. Until there was nothing left.
When the last wisp of shadow sank into his skin, warmth erupted through his veins—sharp, wild, electric.
Notifications flared before his eyes:
Strength: +19 | Mana: +16 | Endurance: +16 | Agility: +12
He gritted his teeth, muscles tightening beneath his skin as new strength flooded his limbs. The familiar heat of power was intoxicating. He could feel it spreading through him—like fire smoldering in his veins.
When it finally faded, he straightened, gripping the pike once more. His breathing slowed. His pulse steadied.
The trail left by the goblins stretched deeper into the island-like landscape, winding between trees and faint rises of stone. He followed it, steps light and precise, adjusting his direction toward the looming mountain ranges ahead.
The air grew different there—heavier, almost damp. The wind carried hints of smoke and the sharp tang of blood. And beneath it… faint sounds. Grunts. Snarls. The rhythmic patter of feet moving through earth.
He wasn't alone anymore.
Before he reached the source, two more goblin patrols crossed his path—one group of three, another of five. Their movements were careless, confident in their territory.
This time, Sam didn't hesitate.
Each ambush was faster than the last. The goblins fought with vicious desperation, but Sam's strength—and speed—had grown. His weapon blurred, piercing through skulls and throats in bursts of precision. By the end, the ground was littered with corpses once more.
He wiped his face with the back of his hand, breath heavy, and whispered again, Devour.
The darkness obeyed. And his strength swelled.
Every encounter pushed his stats higher, his senses sharper. His body, already honed from training at the gym, moved like something half-born of instinct and rage—light on his feet and deadly with every strike.
Minutes passed before the forest began to change again. The trees thinned. The soil turned more rocky. The air colder.
Sam slowed his steps, crouching low behind a cluster of boulders as he peered ahead.
His eyes widened.
Below, at the base of a mountain, yawned a massive cave—its entrance circular and dark, like the open mouth of some sleeping beast. About a dozen goblins moved about outside, their green forms flickering in the half-light. Wolves prowled among them, silent and tense, their yellow eyes reflecting the glow of crude torches.
Sam's rough count made his stomach tighten—at least twenty, and that was just on the outside.
He still didn't know what lay within.
The air was thick with the stench of blood and filth. Every growl and bark from the wolves mingled with the chattering voices of goblins, forming a low, unsettling hum.
Sam's grip tightened around the pike. His heartbeat pounded in his ears.
He swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay calm.
It wasn't the numbers that unnerved him. It was what they meant.
Because somewhere in that darkness… was Serena.
And he wasn't leaving without her.