Infiltration

Azrael's footsteps echoed softly through the cavern as he pressed on through the dimly lit tunnels. The feeble torchlight barely penetrated the darkness, leaving shadows to dance along the rough walls. The path ahead grew more perilous, strewn with jagged rocks and loose stones that threatened to trip him up at every step.

His pace slowed, each footfall calculated to avoid any unnecessary noise or mishaps on the uneven terrain.

Suddenly, a faint murmuring reached his ears—a hushed conversation drifting through the air like a ghostly whisper, sending a shiver down his spine.

Tensing, Azrael pressed his back against the cool cavern wall, melting into the shadows. Straining his ears, he attempted to decipher the conversation, but the voices were mere whispers, too soft to comprehend.

As the voices drew nearer, he held his breath, feeling his heart pound wildly in his chest. His palms were slick with sweat as tension filled the air.

The voices abruptly ceased, leaving a palpable silence that hung like a heavy fog. Azrael's pulse quickened, and he clutched his knives tightly. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, his skin prickling with an uneasy anticipation.

A shuffling sound shattered the silence, accompanied by a low growl. Azrael's muscles tensed, his body coiling like a spring ready to unleash its energy.

With a burst of ferocity, Azrael leaped out from the shadows, his knives flashing like blades of death. Before the Goblins had a chance to react, they were slashed open, falling to the ground in silent defeat.

Blood sprayed, and the stench of death permeated the air as Azrael's knives flashed mercilessly, delivering fatal blows to the terrified Goblins.

Two Goblins lay defeated on the ground, but one managed to escape, scrambling away in terror. Azrael pursued the fleeing creature with determination, his knives cutting through the air with deadly precision. The terrified Goblin stumbled and tripped, falling to the ground with a sickening thud.

With a cold gleam in his eye, Azrael delivered the killing blow, his knife piercing the Goblin's heart. The act of vengeance was swift and unrelenting, leaving no room for mercy as Azrael ensured that the last remaining threat was silenced.

Azrael's mind snapped back into focus as the adrenaline faded from his system. Panting, he surveyed the aftermath of the swift and decisive battle, a grim smile gracing his lips.

With his prey dealt with, Azrael collected all the loot and concealed the Goblin corpses. The spoils were meager — just a handful of coins that held little value for him. Copper held no significance, considering he already possessed gold in his stash.

He resumed his journey in silence, the weight of the recent skirmish hanging in the air. The rhythmic echoes of his footsteps reverberated through the cavern.

Azrael's mind wandered to the Goblins and how easily he had defeated them. He was always good at fighting, and even though there was no real danger, the excitement of battle was still there.

Maybe it was because of his fearless past or just his own experience, but he liked facing opponents who were stronger than him.

But killing the Goblins so easily also bothered him. It made him think about how ruthless he could be and how much he enjoyed fighting.

After a little while, Azrael spotted an opening, and dim light flooded in from it. He hastened his pace towards the opening and was met with a new sight. It was a massive cavern, larger and brighter than the one before.

Lanterns hung from the ceiling, casting light over the cave-like structure. The landscape resembled an ant colony, with structures rising and connected by stone bridges.

Goblins were scattered all around, engrossed in their daily activities. Mining, smithing, and construction were in full swing, and Goblins moved with purpose, diligently working to fulfill their duties. The cavern buzzed with industrious energy as the Goblins went about their tasks.

Not only Goblins, but there were also humans—old and young, men, women, and children—chained together like livestock, toiling away as slaves. Larger Goblins, yellow in color and even uglier, wielded whips, directing and lashing at anyone who dared to slack off.

"Hobogoblins!" Azrael muttered under his breath, recognizing the larger and more menacing Goblins overseeing the enslaved humans.

It was a heartbreaking scene, filled with pain and suffering. Azrael, suppressing his rage, carefully surveyed the area from his hiding spot, taking note of the various structures and pathways.

At the far end of the cavern, a pair of large double doors caught his attention. Carved out of the very rock, they stood as tall as the cavern itself, a clear indication that something significant lay behind them.

Azrael speculated that this must be the lair of the Goblin's leader, the Chief.

"If I'm lucky, they might be held there. If not, I'll have to slaughter every goblin here," Azrael muttered, strategizing his next move.

His goal was clear—he intended to eliminate the Goblin Chief or whoever was leading them. It was the least he could do to free the prisoners from their torment and to strengthen himself.

"One step at a time."

***

Azrael moved cautiously through the cavern, blending into the shadows to avoid detection. His keen eyes scanned the surroundings, alert for any signs of danger.

Taking cover behind a large rock, Azrael pondered his next move. The bridges ahead were the only path across the cavern, but they were heavily guarded by Goblins. Crossing without being noticed seemed impossible; any misstep could lead to capture.

He weighed his options, contemplating how to navigate the perilous obstacle ahead while remaining undetected.

The Hobogoblins cracked their whips, ensuring the green Goblins and cursed humans toiled relentlessly, leaving no room for respite. Azrael observed the harsh treatment, realizing that he needed to intervene somehow if he wanted to cross the bridge undetected.

"Fuck, why is this so difficult?!"

Azrael's mind sparked with a brilliant idea—a plan that could aid his covert crossing of the bridge. Without hesitation, he stripped off his clothes, leaving himself clad only in his undergarments.

"Let's pretend to be a slave," he murmured to himself, adopting the guise of a downtrodden captive.

Quickly, he concealed his clothes and looted items in a hidden hole, covering it up to ensure they remained out of sight.

Azrael stealthily approached a downtrodden human male and gave a gentle tap on his shoulder. Startled, the man turned around, eyes widening at the unexpected sight.

With a quiet gesture, Azrael pressed his index finger to his lips, signaling for the man to remain silent. Understanding the urgency, the man complied.

Cautiously, the man stooped down and gathered a handful of dust, applying it to Azrael's body and face. 

"W-why are you doing this, young man?" 

"To save everyone here, please cooperate."

The man's eyes widened, disbelief etched across his face. "Y-you're here to s-save us?" 

"Yes, but I need your help."

Azrael swiftly explained his plan to the man, who nodded in understanding and agreed to inform the other slaves to play along.

Suddenly, a sharp whistle sliced through the air followed by a vicious crack as something lashed against Azrael's back, causing him to stumble and fall. Gritting his teeth against the searing pain, he fought to suppress any cries of agony that threatened to escape.

"HOOMAN SKUM! WORK!" a Hobgoblin snarled, his whip cracking down on Azrael's back once more.

Azrael gasped, the searing pain intensifying as the whip cut into his skin, leaving a nasty welt. Blood trickled down his bare back. Despite the agony, a fierce determination burned in Azrael's eyes.

'You're dead. You're dead, motherfucker.'