The lead goblin, its eyes bulging with manic energy, led the charge. Arthas, still wearing his white hoodie which was about to lose its pristine condition, leapt back, ceding ground to gain space. He needed to gauge their speed, their range. The first goblin, smaller than him but surprisingly fast, closed the distance, a splintered wooden club raised high above its balding, scabby head.
As the creature brought the primitive weapon down in a clumsy arc, Arthas suddenly stopped his retreat. He exploded forward, stepping inside the goblin's swing. He threw a brutal left hook, connecting cleanly with the monster's jaw. The goblin's head snapped back with a sickening crack, throwing it completely off balance. Following up instantly, Arthas brought his heavy sneaker down in a raking kick to the creature's shin. It shrieked, falling forward onto one knee.
But as Arthas was about to throw a finishing punch, his unnaturally sharp vision caught a glimmer of movement from the shadows behind the downed creature. His crimson eyes widened slightly. Instinct, sharper than a razor, overrode any thoughts of fair play. He didn't finish the downed goblin; instead, he grabbed the creature by its ragged tunic and yanked it up, turning it into a living shield.
The squelch of flesh being pierced was immediately followed by the goblin's high-pitched scream. Another of the monsters had thrust forward with a sharpened tree branch, intending to hit Arthas, but now the weapon was buried deep in its own companion's back. Black-green blood, thick and smelling of rot, splattered across the chest of Arthas's white hoodie and the cavern floor. The club clattered from the dead goblin's hand.
A clear, chime-like sound echoed in his mind.
[Ding! You have slain a Level 1 Cave Goblin. +5 EXP gained.]
"This is dangerous," Arthas muttered, feeling the surge of adrenaline starting to burn. He quickly dropped the dead weight and took several hurried steps back, creating a defensive perimeter. His hand went to a hidden, zipper pocket on the side of his red backpack, but the remaining goblins, incensed by the death of their kin, wouldn't give him the time.
One, a runt with a crazed look in its eyes, jumped from a rock, a jagged stone spear angled directly at his throat. Arthas dodged to the side, feeling the rush of wind as the point missed him by inches. Another goblin, keeping its distance, scooped up a jagged rock and hurled it with surprising force. Arthas ducked, the projectile missing him but clattering loudly against the cave wall behind him.
The third goblin rushed in with a heavy branch, swinging it wildly like a baseball bat. Arthas leaned his body back, the branch whistling through the air just beneath his chin. As the monster overcommitted to the swing, Arthas closed the distance again. He didn't punch this time. He drew a combat dagger, the blade black and designed not to reflect light, which he had successfully pulled from his backpack during the dodge.
He drove the dagger into the goblin's chest. There was another squelch, a short, wet gasp from the creature, and the weight of it collapsed as Arthas pulled the blade out.
[Ding! You have slain a Level 1 Cave Goblin. +5 EXP gained.]
The fourth goblin, seemingly unaware that the tables had turned, or perhaps just driven by a mindless bloodlust, used the rough terrain of the cavern. It climbed a stalagmite and launched itself down towards Arthas from above. Arthas watched its trajectory. He stretched out his free arm, his hand clamping like a vice around the goblin's throat mid-air, halting its descent. With a smooth, practiced motion, he stabbed the monster in the neck, pushing the black blade until it grated against the spine. Green blood sputtered out like a broken pipe, splashing across the lower half of his face and into his mouth. The metallic, bitter taste was revulsive.
[Ding! You have slain a Level 1 Cave Goblin. +5 EXP gained.]
Now, the two remaining goblins stopped their assault. The mindless chattering ceased. They stood cautiously, their big ears swiveling, watching this strange white creature with the red eyes who was butchering them effortlessly. One held a flat slab of sharp granite; the other gripped a heavy wooden bat.
Pulling the dagger free from the corpse in his hand, Arthas casually tossed the body to the side. He stepped over the pile of the three dead goblins he had already dispatched, advancing toward the last two. They took several panicked steps backward, their large eyes darting around the cave for an escape they couldn't see. They shrieked as he approached, a high, desperate warning sound.
Then, with a final, terrified shriek, the one with the granite slab made a desperate, suicidal charge. As it closed the distance, it swung the slab with all its might. Arthas didn't dodge. He caught the stone slab in his bare left hand, the jagged edges cutting his palm, but he barely felt it. Before the goblin could react, his right hand moved, driving the dagger deep into the creature's neck.
[Ding! You have slain a Level 1 Cave Goblin. +5 EXP gained.]
The final goblin, seeing its fellow scavengers fall so quickly and brutally, broke. It turned on its heels and made a run for it, squealing in terror. But Arthas was faster. He covered the distance in just a few powerful strides, drove the dagger into the creature's back from behind, and used his momentum to tackle the goblin to the ground. The creature thrashed for a moment, then went still.
[Ding! You have slain a Level 1 Cave Goblin. +5 EXP gained.]
The echoes of the fight died down, replaced once again by the slow drip-drip-drip of water from the ceiling. Arthas slowly sat up, the exertion catching up with his body. He leaned back against the rough cave wall, wiping the green blood and sweat from his face with the sleeve of his hoodie, which was now more green than white.
He unzipped his red backpack, his hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline crash, and took out a bottle of water. He drank deeply, rinsing the taste of goblin blood from his mouth.
"Greetings, dear Players."
The Oracle's voice returned, booming from the ceiling of the cavern.
{You are currently in the First Stage of the Game. A total of ten thousand other players have been randomly spawned with you in a forty-kilometer 'Safe Zone'.}
Arthas paused, his water bottle hovering near his mouth. Forty kilometers? That was a massive area, but for ten thousand people? It would be crowded.
{This Safe Zone shrinks over time. Only the last hundred survivors win the stage. There will also be random in-game events to keep things interesting. For any further inquiries, call on the System. Good luck, Players.}
The voice disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. But as it vanished, glowing numbers materialized in the gloomy sky above the cavern.
[Current number of players: 9784]
Arthas stared at the number. Even as he watched, it began to descend rapidly.
[9782, 9779, 9774, 9760...]
In the short time since they had arrived, over two hundred people had been eliminated. Over two hundred people were dead. The realization hit him like a physical blow, a sudden, cold dread that started in his stomach and spread through his chest.
"Damn... that's fucked up," Arthas cursed, his voice raspy. "I hope Xavier... no, he can't be in here." But a dark voice in his mind whispered, 'That's Assuming there's only one of there so-called Safe Zone'.
He leaned his head against the cold stone, his red eyes narrowing. This wasn't a game. It was a slaughterhouse. If he wanted to find Xavier, he had to get out. If there was more than one of these zones, he needed answers.
Then he remembered the Oracle's last words: {For any further inquiries, call on the System.}
"System," Arthas called out.