Verdant Blood

Overriding the fear in his legs with reckless brazen, he charged forward with his blade in hand--screaming a war cry of fear and courage as he approached one of the green menaces. Each step forward was a war waged on the path behind him, he could almost physically feel the flow push against him--telling him to run away.

"I'm not going to run--not anymore!" Ren yelled out as fearful tears left his eyes.

Even the goblin in front of him was left perplexed at the sight of the teary-eyes, fearful man charging towards him. He held his blade out in front of his body, running directly at the short creature before piercing the sword directly into it. It was an unfamiliar feeling as the blade slid into the unwelcoming flesh of the goblin, watching the creature convulse in agony as it desperately tried to fight back. The constant gunshots became background noise as he listened to the goblin's snarling, feeling the creature try and resist its own death.

"Just...die already!" Ren gritted his teeth.

He planted his feet against the lonesome stone and shoved the silver blade in deeper, pinning the goblin against the wall as he could only listen to its pained grunts while the goblin attempted to claw at him as drool traveled down its chin. The creature's rapid heartbeat resonated against the blade lanced into its chest, slowly decreasing as the glow faded from its eyes.

Even in its savage, almost primal actions--he still felt no pleasure in killing something that even resembled the shape of a human. It was different from the wolf in that regard, yet at the same time--he knew this creature was something born and incubated in malice, something representing true avarice.

"Gh…" He grimaced as he slid the blade out of the goblin's chest.

The creature slumped down onto the ground, lifeless as a pool of arterial fluid formed beneath it. He quickly covered his mouth before gagging, stopping just short of releasing bile.

--Why is it so hard? Why should it be this hard to protect myself? I shouldn't have any problems driving this blade into a creature like this, so why?

Crimson dripped from his blade and onto the stone below, standing still as he watched the puddle underneath his victim grow larger by the second.

"Don't stand still--if you have time to lament over your kill, then you have time to keep killing," Tristan reloaded again before continuing to fire.

"Right--!" Ren yelled back, gripping the firm handle tightly.

In the time it took him to dispatch one goblin, Tristan seemed to have killed dozens--not moving an inch from the spot he stood as he continued to unleash a flurry of shots that shook the cavern.

"How many bullets do you even have for that thing?" Ren asked, confused about how he was still shooting.

"My mana is my ammunition," Tristan replied.

He quickly covered his ears as the man pulled the trigger once more, unleashing a roar of power as the bullet blew through a goblin's torso--leaving it a pile of red. Watching the man carry out his assault, he became distracted before narrowly avoiding a strike from behind, turning to see a goblin wielding a rusty dagger.

In a fit of self-preservation, he didn't hesitate this time--bringing his blade overhead before swinging it down. The blade carved down directly atop the goblin's scalp, piercing both skull and brain. This time he battled against the urge to gag, placing his foot against the goblin's body so that he could remove the blade from the entrapments of its skull. At least this time, he seemed to instantly kill the creature without causing it any pain.

"That's two down," Ren huffed, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

The air inside the cavern became humid from the heat of battle, the acrid scent of blood becoming fresh in the already musty air. It seemed like the goblins were pouring in endlessly from all tunnels, flooding in only to meet their end swiftly by way of Tristan's weapon.

However--the man began to take steps back for the first time as the group of goblins gained inch by inch, their numbers increasing faster than he could reload. Even while reloading, he managed to swiftly evade the bloodthirsty swings coming towards him, kicking away the attacking goblin with enough force to send it flying against the distant wall.

"Purgatory Arm: Second Form -- Gatling" Tristan suddenly spoke out as if chanting an incantation for a spell.

Before his eyes, he watched as the magnum's barrel shifted--splitting into four spiraling barrels. As the man pulled the trigger once more, the bullets began to release at a rapid speed. The new mass of bullets mowed away at the approaching horde of goblins, blowing them away into bits of red paste against the cavern walls.

The entire cavern rumbled from the continuous firing, tearing apart the stone walls without any care. At the rate Tristan was going--Ren feared he might end up bringing the entire cave down on top of them. Before he could worry about that--a heavy footstep dropped behind him.

Turning around to face it, the creature was definitely a goblin, yet it stood well over two meters in height with a bulky build, baring two large fangs on the bottom row of its teeth. It was carrying a large wooden club, stained in crimson as it drooled above him.

--A hobgoblin…!

The hoblin chortled, seemingly pleased by the obvious fear plastered on the boy's pale face. Its heated breath, stinking of unrefined booze and lack of hygiene pelted his nose. Just as he forced his body to move against the rising feer, the hoblin raised the club before swinging it with his massive arms empowering the strike. He managed to meet the strike, blocking it with his own sword--still experiencing the sheer force of the strike as it rang through his body like a bell from hell. He felt the power of the swing ache through his brittle bones, gritting his teeth as he pushed back against the club with all the strength he could muster.

"You damn, ugly bastard--!" Ren stammered out, gripping the handle tightly with both hands.

He was clearly losing in the battle of raw strength, feeling as if he was pushing against an indomitable wall of steel--except this wall was licking its lips as if playing around with him.

In a fit of agility, he swung his hips--sending his leg directly against the knee of the hobgoblin. Although the massive goblin didn't falter, the surprise gave him enough time to jump back--creating space between him and the emerald brute.

Glancing to the side, Tristan was far enough away that he wouldn't be able to hear him behind the constant gunfire he was unleashing. That confirmed one thing--he couldn't rely on him to save the day now. He considered trying to use magic again, but the fear of it backlashing again drove that possibility away.

"Come on, you smelly slob--!" Ren taunted, still huffing as he felt his muscles ache.

To his surprise, the hobgoblin accepted his proposal--charging towards him, dragging its massive club behind it as it left a trail of drool in the air. Each stomp of the creature's feet rumbled the ground near him as if an elephant was charging towards him.

The brute telegraphed its next attack, rearing its tree trunk of an arm back before swinging it towards the side of the boy's head. He leaned back, watching as the heavy club swung an inch above his face, feeling the air pressure against every pore of his skin.

Somehow--he wasn't scared. If anything, he began to engross himself in this dance of death. The absence of fear, or rather--he converted his fear into anger, then used that anger as a catalyst to drive himself forward. He had seldom been in fights throughout his life, even as the resident geek at school--his existence was so mundane, even the bullies paid him no mind. So why was he able to react so well to these attacks? He had the answer--

"This is what a lifetime of hardcore gaming does for you--!" Ren proclaimed as he swiftly evaded another attack, countering with a missed swing.

--It's strong, but it's slow. It's big, but it's dumb. These are my advantages. I'll have to use them to the fullest.

He watched the creature carefully, ducking under the next swing of its club--this time countering with a slash to the back of its knee. It was almost euphoric for him, watching as the hobgoblin fell to one knee--starting to sweat as the savage creature realized its own mortality.

For the first time, he was in control. He held power over another--and it felt amazing.

Blood seeped from the goblin's wound, streaming down its leg as it desperately tried to stand up--continuing to fall back down before it started dragging its leg instead.

"You've still got some fight left in you, right?" Ren taunted the goblin, ironically, as he was out of steam himself.

It was frightening to watch the barbaric creature continue to pursue him even in its injured state, as if not caring for its own wellbeing as long as it took him down. He raised his sword once again, preparing for his next attack.

The sharpness of the blade, so easily rending the flesh of the creature, it was an unstoppable feeling of joy. Next, he swiftly brought his blade down against the hobgoblin's wrist in order to seize its ability to fight back. Due to his lack of strength, he managed to only cut through flesh and not bone--leaving the creature's hand to dangle from its mutilated flesh.

"Ren!"

Tristan's commanding voice resonated through the cavern, snapping him back into reality. He didn't even realize the gunshots had ended--Tristan had finished off the attacking goblins. All that was left was the one before him, writhing in stupor and agony.

"Finish the damn thing already," Tristan sighed.

Ren looked at him for a moment before nodding, lifting his blade before carving it through the air--dragging it along the hobgoblin's neck. It bled out for a minute, squirting a fountain of blood from its open neck wound before falling down with an echoing thud against the cavern floor.

"Did you see that? I beat that hobgoblin. I killed some other goblins as well. I did good, right?" Ren smiled, wiping the blood from his face as he caught his breath.

"Yeah...sure. Good thing," Tristan gave him a worried look before turning to face the dimly lit tunnel, "let's check out one last thing before we head home."

Ren followed behind him, stepping through puddles of still warm blood, taking care not to step into the chunks of goblin mincemeat left in Tristan's wake. As they turned through the lit tunnel, it seemed to be the goblin's main base, storing all of their weapons and furniture.

"This seems oddly...human," Ren commented, looking around at the room.

They had wooden tables and stools, tattered beds, and even seemed to have alcohol--it was as if they were trying to mimic humans.

"Well, goblins may be simple-minded creatures--but they aren't stupid. They know humans are on top of the food chain in Mastorn, so they think the best path is to mimic humans. Not a half-bad idea for a bunch of green little-shits," Tristan sniffed a bottle of alcohol, grimacing at the scent.

"That's honestly kind of horrifying. Do goblins know magic? That's a scary idea," Ren fiddled with the random weapons.

"Some do, and they tend to become leaders of goblin tribes. Luckily, while there were a lot of goblins here, they didn't seem all that advanced," Tristan answered, looking around the cavern room.

"I can't see that I'm excited about the idea of meeting "advanced" goblins...this entire encounter nearly made me piss my pants three times over," Ren scratched his head, "honestly, I didn't even know I had it in me to fight like that."

"It's a good thing. In situations like that, a lot of people would just freeze--a lot of people would die. Luckily, you decided to fight, and so, you lived," Tristan wiped the guts off of his magnum before letting it dissipate into particles of black mana.

Ren sat down on one of the less than polished wooden stools, running his hand through his hair before letting out a short breath.

"No, that isn't true. If it wasn't for you giving me that talk, I would've stayed frozen in fear, I'd be nothing more than goblin food by now--or worse," Ren pulled on the collar of his armor, trying to cool off.

As he sulked to himself, his head bobbed forward as Tristan knocked his fist against the back of the boy's head. Ren massaged the back of his head, turning back to Tristan with a surprised look on his face.

"What the hell was that for--?"

"Dumbass, did you forget what I told you? Nobody can make you fight except for yourself. Making that choice in the face of danger like that--it takes some real balls, kid. Don't sell yourself short or I'll clobber you again," Tristan ruffled his hair.

A comforting warmth filled him in this acrid cavern, earning the praise of a man he previously thought was cold and unforgiving.

--I guess he is a pretty good guy, huh?