The goblin village burned like a funeral pyre.
Flames clawed at the sky, smoke curling in black ribbons that blotted out the sun. The stench of burning resin and blood hung heavy in the air. Goblin corpses littered the dirt, their twisted bodies steaming in the heat. Arin and Victor stood among the wreckage, blades dripping, lungs heaving. All the goblins in the village were dead; panic had done half the work, steel the rest.
But the real fight wasn't over.
Inside the largest hut, Raul fought the shaman alone. Fire roared. Bone charms burst apart. The air reeked of ash and blood. His daggers flashed like silver fangs, biting deep, but the shaman didn't slow. Its staff throbbed with sickly green light, hurling fire that turned wood into molten slag.
Raul clenched his jaw as Nimble Steps threw him forward in broken flashes. He cut, thrust, slipped through narrow gaps, but the magic only grew more violent. Heat tore the air apart. Each impact shuddered through the hut's frame.
Arin watched for a heartbeat too long. His eyes narrowed. "He's burning himself out."
Victor wiped blood from his mouth and tightened his grip on the hammer. "Which means we're out of time."
Arin didn't argue. He stepped forward.
They charged into the inferno.
Heat clawed at their skin, and smoke burned their lungs. The shaman screeched, eyes glowing like hellfire, and hurled a fireball that shattered the doorway. Victor raised his shield, the blast slamming into steel with a roar. Sparks danced across his arm, pain biting deep, but he held.
"Go!" Arin roared.
Raul darted in, daggers flashing. He carved deep into the shaman's arm, black blood spraying across the stones. The creature shrieked and swung its staff like a club. Raul slipped under the arc and veered off at the last instant, feet skimming the ground as Nimble Steps pulled him clear, the blow cutting only empty air where he'd been a heartbeat before.
Victor roared, hammer swinging. It smashed into the shaman's ribs with a sound like breaking stone. Bone cracked, flesh tore, and the creature staggered, but didn't fall. It screeched, fire blooming in its hands, and hurled a blast that sent Victor sprawling.
Arin lunged, sword biting deep into the shaman's thigh. The creature howled, spinning, staff slamming into his shield. The impact rang like a bell, steel bending under the force.
Raul moved like a shadow, one step, two, then a leap. His daggers crossed, flashing silver in the firelight, and sank deep into the shaman's throat.
The creature froze.
Its eyes widened, glowing brighter, then dimming, fading, dying. Raul ripped his blades free in a brutal arc, black blood spraying like ink. The shaman collapsed, its staff clattering to the floor.
Silence fell, broken only by the crackle of flames.
Raul stood over the corpse, breathing hard, burns crawling across his arms, sweat dripping down his face. His grin was sharp, wild. "Done."
Arin's panel flickered:
Your subordinate killed an Elite Fellhide Goblin Shaman, +20 Lord Coins.
Current Total: 82.
Arin exhaled, chest heaving. "We need to move, quickly."
Victor groaned, dragging himself up. "They back already?"
Arin's eyes flicked to the treeline. Shadows moved, far off, but closing fast. The ten goblin squads had seen the smoke.
"Yes, they're coming."
___________________________
They ran.
Through fire, through smoke, through roots that clawed at their boots. The forest swallowed them whole, its silence broken by distant screeches and pounding feet. Behind them, the village burned, a pyre for the dead, a beacon for the living.
They reached the hollow trunk just as the drums began to beat.
Raul collapsed inside, body shaking, burns crawling across his skin. Not deep, just light, angry welts, but exhaustion weighed on him like chains. His breath came in ragged gasps, his daggers slipping from his hands.
Arin knelt, pulling the stolen medicine bag from his belt. Bone charms rattled, pouches spilling strange powders and herbs. He stared at them, clueless.
Victor frowned. "You know what any of that is?"
Arin shook his head. "No."
Raul groaned, voice hoarse. "Try the ash. It stopped the shaman's bleeding."
Arin grabbed the grey powder, rubbed it gently across Raul's burns. The welts hissed, smoke curling faintly, but the pain eased. They cleaned the wounds, applied more ash, and wrapped them in strips of cloth torn from their cloaks.
Raul's eyes closed, breath slowing. "Better."
Arin sat back, chest heavy. "Rest. We'll need you."
Victor leaned against the wall, hammer across his lap. "How long?"
"Days," Arin said. "Maybe more."
The forest creaked outside, low and slow, like a gentle laugh. Goblin drums thudded in the distance, hunting calls echoing through the trees. But inside the hollow trunk, silence held, thin, fragile, precious.
Raul slept. Victor stared at the dark. Arin opened his panel.
Current Lord Coins: 82
Arin's lips curved faintly.
Two days passed in uneasy quiet. Raul's burns faded under the ash treatment, though his body still ached like broken steel. Victor kept watch, hammer across his knees, muttering curses at every rustle in the trees. Arin sharpened his blade in silence, mind racing.
Victor broke the quiet first. "You know… we killed a shaman. That's insane."
Arin didn't look up. "Sanity leaves you bleeding in the dirt"
Victor snorted. "So what, we go feral?"
Raul didn't open his eyes. "We already did. That's why we're still standing."
Victor groaned. "You're impossible."
Raul grinned faintly. "And you're loud."
Arin's panel flickered again, reminding him of the coins. 82 Lord Coins. Not enough to change anything.
Arin closed the panel, eyes narrowing. Soon.
Outside, the drums had stopped. The forest was silent again, but silence in the Misleading Woods was never peace. It was just a calm before the next storm.