"HUNTERS WITH SHIELDS, BLOCK THEM! THE REST, ATTACK FROM BEHIND!"
Fiza's command split the chaos like a blade. His voice boomed through the carnage, absolute, unyielding.
At once, the shield-bearers surged forward, locking into formation. Steel walls slammed into place, holding the tide at bay. Goblin daggers and axes clanged and scraped against the raised barriers, sparks flying in the dim, stuttering light. Behind the living wall, hunters struck with precision, blades and spears darting through gaps to cut down the shrieking creatures.
The station roared with battle—steel on steel, steel on flesh, the guttural cries of goblins mingling with the screams of men and women.
"A FEW HAVE MADE IT TO THE NON-HUNTER CIVILIANS! STOP THEM!!" Karthik's voice cut through the din, edged with desperation.
Hunters broke from the line and sprinted toward the rear, intercepting the goblins that had slipped through. Steel clashed again in a frenzy of motion, the hunters forming a last desperate shield between monsters and the helpless.
But it wasn't enough.
A young woman's scream split the air as a goblin hurled its axe. The blade buried itself in her spine with a wet crack. She collapsed in a twitching heap, her fingers clawing at the floor. The goblin leapt upon her before she could crawl, hacking again and again, cackling with grotesque glee as her cries turned to choked gurgles.
Something broke in that moment.
Jagger's father charged, eyes blazing. He seized a broken steel pipe from the floor and swung with all his weight. The pipe crashed into the goblin's skull, the impact shattering bone with a sickening crunch. The creature dropped instantly, blood and brains splattering the tiles.
"GET THE WOUNDED AWAY FROM THE FIGHT!" his voice rang with command, fierce and defiant. For a heartbeat, the crowd stirred—fear bending into resolve.
Non-hunters scrambled to snatch crude weapons from fallen monsters—rusted blades, jagged spears, whatever they could grip. Their eyes still burned with terror, but beneath it glowed something else: the will to survive.
The station became a storm. The clang of metal, the thud of falling bodies, the wet squelch of tearing flesh—all rose in a dreadful symphony.
Swoosh. Slice. Squelch.
Jagger broke free of the huddled crowd. He seized a small axe from the blood-slick floor and hurled himself forward, his scream raw, guttural, primal.
"AAAAAAHHHH!!!"
He brought down the axe onto the goblin crouched over a fallen hunter's corpse, the goblins skull splitting open. Flesh tore, bones cracked, and brain matter exploded as the creature slumped dead.
-
[Goblins killed: 34/100] [Time remaining: 48:58]
-
The sound of metal slicing through flesh, the clash of weapons striking shields, and the wet splatter of blood and entrails filled the station. It was a cacophony of chaos and despair, a battlefield drowning in violence.
A woman's shrill voice cut through the din, ragged with panic. "I don't understand! They're coming from all directions! When will this end?!" Her blade swung wildly, striking a goblin that lunged toward her, though terror kept her movements frantic and unsteady.
The horde pressed forward, endless and suffocating. Wave after wave of twisted creatures emerged from the tunnels, their grotesque bodies surging into the fray with snarls and shrieks. Their glowing eyes burned with hunger, their jagged weapons raised high.
"KEEP FIGHTING! WE MUST KEEP FIGHTING! IF WE FALTER, EVERYONE HERE WILL DIE!" Fiza roared, his voice a beacon in the storm.
He carved a path through the monsters with merciless precision. One brutal swing separated a goblin's head from its shoulders; in the same motion, he cleaved through another's neck. Blood sprayed across his armor, yet he never flinched. His stance remained unshaken, his focus absolute.
Then, new danger struck.
Perched high upon the flickering light fixtures, three goblins raised crude bows, their malevolent eyes fixed on the hunters below. The twang of bowstrings cracked through the air.
SwooshThunkSwooshThunk
But before the arrows could claim their mark, another hunter—Kate—moved. Her own bow sang as she loosed three arrows in rapid succession. Each struck true, skewering a goblin cleanly through the chest or throat. The bodies toppled from their perches, crashing lifeless onto the tiles below.
Kate exhaled sharply, her hands steady though her heart thundered in her chest. "Thank God I practiced my archery," she muttered under her breath, scanning the shadows for another threat.
"GOBLIN TO YOUR LEFT!" Karthik's warning cut through the battle.
Kate spun without hesitation. Another arrow hissed from her bow, striking a goblin squarely in the chest. The impact hurled the creature backward, its body crumpling against the ground in a twitching heap.
Around her, the fighting raged on. The stench of blood and sweat thickened the air, but Fiza's voice rose again, ragged yet resolute.
"We're almost there! Keep killing them, everyone!"
And somehow, despite the chaos, despite the horror, his words ignited a flicker of hope in the hearts of the exhausted hunters.
-
Out of hundreds of hunters, only five were healers, and their magic was stretched to its limit. The battle had become a brutal war of attrition—lives were claimed with every passing second—but at last, the tide began to turn. Goblin after goblin fell, their numbers thinning.
"THERE ARE ONLY TEN LEFT!" Karthik roared, his voice hoarse from command and combat alike.
Hope surged through the ranks. Even the non-hunters had joined the fight—fathers, sons, and daughters gripping scavenged weapons with desperate resolve. Among them fought Jagger and his father, side by side with the hunters. Jagger hacked wildly, every swing raw and unpracticed, caring little for precision. Goblin blood slicked his arms and spattered his face, its metallic stench clogging the air until it was suffocating.
And then—
[Goblins killed: 99/100][Time remaining: 33:06]
A roar erupted. It shook the station, reverberating off the walls and ceiling with a fury that froze the hunters where they stood. It was not just sound but a wave of malice, a vibration that rattled bones and reached into their souls.
[The Boss has appeared! Hobgoblin Lvl. 15 (D-rank)]
"No…" Fiza's voice trembled. His sword-arm faltered for the first time. "That's impossible. It's six levels higher than me."
From the mound of corpses, the hobgoblin emerged. It loomed nearly six feet tall, hunched but monstrous, its sickly green skin stretched tight over thick muscles. Its head was oversized, grotesque, with a bulging nose and yellow eyes burning with cruel intelligence. In its hands, it gripped a massive club—splintered wood caked in dried blood and fresh viscera.
Despair rippled through the hunters.
Fiza alone stood firm. He raised his shield, hammering his sword against it with a resounding clang that echoed through the station. The sound was a challenge, a defiance.
[Due to your actions, you have gained a new skill: Willpower Lv. 1.][Willpower (Passive): Increases resistance to Fear, Confusion, and other mental debuffs. With each level, the effect increases by 2%.][Due to your actions, the title "Defiant" has been created.][Defiant (C): When facing an enemy stronger in a desperate situation, the user and all allies gain a 5% increase in all stats (5 minutes).]
His resolve spread like fire. The hunters gathered, weapons raised. Fiza's voice thundered with raw defiance. "COME GET US, YOU DISGUSTING BASTARD!"
The hobgoblin answered with a roar of its own, rattling the station's very foundations. Then it charged.
Steel met flesh. The hunters struck, but the beast leapt with horrifying agility, clearing their blades. It landed amidst the civilians, swinging its club in a wide arc.
SplatCrackSquelch
Skulls shattered. Bones broke. Screams of agony filled the station as bodies fell in heaps of blood and ruin. The hobgoblin grinned through the carnage, yellow teeth glistening with gore.
"MOVE BACK! RETREAT TO THE REAR! NON-HUNTERS, GO NOW!" Karthik bellowed, his voice straining above the storm of screams.
Jagger stood frozen. The axe slipped from his hand. His knees buckled. Terror rooted him to the blood-soaked floor as he stared at his trembling, gore-stained hands. He could not move. He could not breathe.
Then—his father's hand seized his arm, dragging him out of paralysis. "JAGGER!" he barked, shaking him. "We need to find somewhere to hide!"
Jagger blinked, tears streaking his face. "Dad… are we going to die?" His voice broke, small against the chaos.
His father's jaw clenched. Rage and desperation burned in his eyes. "DUCK!"
The metal pipe swung past Jagger's head with brutal force, crushing a goblin that had crept close. Its skull burst under the impact. His father hauled him by the collar, locking eyes with a fire that seared through Jagger's fear.
"You are going to survive, you hear me?! WE ARE GOING TO SURVIVE, JAGGER! Now move! We get your mother and Hannah, and we run!"
The words struck like lightning—an anchor, a command, a promise. Jagger's body obeyed before his mind could resist.
Together, they rushed toward the surviving civilians retreating down the far end of the station. Ahead, Jagger spotted his mother and sister among the crowd. Relief cut through the terror.
"Dad! There—they're there!" he shouted, pointing frantically.
"Lead the way! I'll cover you!" his father growled, the bloodied pipe steady in his grip.
Behind them, Fiza and a band of hunters threw themselves at the hobgoblin. Their weapons rang against its thick hide, sparks flying, but the monster moved with a speed no one expected. One by one, the hunters fell beneath its strikes, their screams echoing through the station as blood pooled across the stone.
-
Joining the flood of terrified non-hunters rushing up the stairs, some crying, others bleeding and dragging broken limbs behind them. Chaos consumed the station, the air thick with the mingled sounds of battle and dying screams. At the top, Sophia and Hannah burst out into the open, their faces streaked with tears, scanning the frenzied crowd.
"Where are we going? Dad, Jagger!" Hannah cried, her eyes searching the crowd for Jagger and her father.
"Over here, Hannah!" Jagger shouted, waving frantically.
Mother and daughter sprinted toward them, their eyes wide and glistening with panic. Sophia's trembling hands flew to her son's shoulders. "Are you hurt?" she asked, her voice breaking.
"No, Mom. Neither is Dad," Jagger managed.
"There's no time to talk. We have to get out of here," their father said, his tone sharp with urgency.
They joined the stream of fleeing survivors, bodies moving on instinct alone, driven by the primal urge to escape. But as soon as they reached the surface, the sight that met them was even more horrific than what lay below.
"WHAT… WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!" someone screamed, hysteria tearing through their voice.
The streets were a graveyard. Corpses lay strewn across the pavement, limbs twisted at impossible angles, blood pooling in thick rivers. Buildings lay in ruin, some still crumbling as smoke poured skyward. The acrid stench of blood, ash, and charred flesh hung suffocatingly in the air. Sophia collapsed to her knees, retching violently onto the cracked asphalt, her body shuddering as sobs broke free.
"Oh… God…" their father whispered. The strong, steady man who had always been their anchor now stood pale and hollow-eyed, his voice trembling as though the horror had reached into his very soul.
Survivors stumbled past them, faces masks of terror. One man had an axe buried in his back, blood cascading down his torn shirt. He screamed into the night, "It's the end of the world!" before collapsing, his body convulsing in its last, pitiful spasms.
Jagger turned to his father, his voice weak. "Dad…"
Tears glistened in the older man's eyes as he forced himself to speak. "We have to get out of here. Sophia, get up—we need to find shelter."
"This way! Over here!" a stranger shouted, waving frantically toward an alleyway.
Before anyone could follow, a pack of goblins swarmed him, tackling him to the ground. His scream rose sharp and high but was swiftly drowned in the grotesque symphony of tearing flesh and cracking bones. The family froze, horror locking their limbs.
"RUN!" their father roared, snapping them back into motion.
They sprinted, lungs burning, refusing to glance back at the carnage. Panic propelled their legs faster than reason ever could. The world behind them was a nightmare, and the only thought that kept them moving was survival.
Several blocks down, they came to a barricade of overturned cars stretching for miles. For a brief, heart-pounding moment, silence fell, broken only by the distant chaos echoing from the city's heart.
Then, a roar shattered the stillness.
The ground trembled. Smoke parted. A hulking Minotaur emerged, its monstrous frame outlined against the blood-red sky. Each thunderous step shook the earth, hot breath puffing in furious plumes as its bloodshot eyes locked onto the survivors. Froth spilled from its gnashing jaws, spattering the asphalt. Hot steam escaped from its nose with each breath of the beast.
"What in the world is that?!" someone screamed, their voice cracking.
The beast let out another earth-shattering bellow and charged. Cars crumpled beneath its horns like paper, flames erupting in its wake as its colossal form barreled forward.
"IT'S COMING AFTER US!"
"RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!"