The forest… it carried the smell of sweat, steel, and something fouler.
There was a great expectation in the air.
But not mine. It was theirs.
I was walking with the others. The armored soldiers moved like dogs unleashed from their chains.
Some were laughing.
Some were singing.
One was sharpening his blade on a whetstone, grinning at me.
I didn't smile. Nor did I speak.
I couldn't understand why there was such eagerness for the goblin hunt.
The trees above were so tightly packed they swallowed the light.
This was no forest.
It was a cage.
And I was the only one who noticed.
"Don't fall behind, Hero," someone said from behind me, slapping my back.
"It'd be a shame if the first goblin cut you down before you could even scream."
I turned my head with a forced smile.
And cursed inwardly.
I couldn't understand the soldiers around me.
As we moved deeper into the forest, we came upon a place filled with green, ugly creatures.
Big pointed ears and sharp noses. Wild red eyes filled with rage. A disgusting stench that filled the entire forest.
At first, they didn't look like monsters.
They weren't what they described.
A female goblin was handing out food to children, who were emaciated from hunger.
Little goblins were playing knights with wooden toys.
Some couldn't even dare to leave their parents' side, seeming to carry traumas.
Old goblins stood before a great tree, raising their hands to the sky in prayer.
They… they didn't look like monsters. Were they really so different from humans? They lived like us.
"Look at where these things live. We should clean them all out with a shovel," said an old soldier with a mocking smile. It was clear he took pleasure in the goblins' misery.
A small goblin approached us, smaller than I expected.
Greenish skin, a hunched back, huge eyes.
He looked scared.
He stumbled out from behind a rock. Blood was seeping from his leg. He gripped a stick, barely more than a branch, tightly.
It was clear from every gesture that he was afraid and trying to defend himself.
"Pathetic…" someone muttered.
"There's a child there... Are we sure?"
Sure of what? I couldn't make sense of their conversation.
"An order is an order. The child will grow up to wield a sword. If we don't kill him now, he'll do more harm later."
Before I could move, a soldier lunged forward — driving his spear into the goblin's chest.
The goblin breathed.
Didn't scream.
Just looked.
The last drop fell from his large eyes to the ground.
Then silence.
I stared at the small goblin collapsed on the ground.
The soldiers laughed.
They spat on the goblin's corpse, kicked it, mocked it.
Did this inhuman creature hold no value to them?
Why did they hate a small child just trying to survive so much?
While the soldiers mocked the dead goblin, another tried to escape.
He ran.
Three arrows pierced his back.
Then more came.
And more.
Screams. Steel. Laughter.
When the screams rose, the air changed. The scent of death, metallic and sharp, replaced peace.
Flames swallowed the sky, and a goblin woman tried to flee clutching her child — but it was too late.
It was more than I could comprehend.
Everywhere I turned, there was another creature collapsing, drawing their last breath.
Even when I closed my eyes, the screams echoed in my mind.
My eyes saw the fear on a child's face. I would never forget it until death.
This was not a war.
It was a massacre.
They were not monsters. They were like children… Why… why was it so easy to kill them?
They hadn't done anything to us. They were only trying to defend themselves.
I turned my head but… it was too late.
Blood stained my boots.
A goblin's head rolled at my feet.
Its eyes… were still blinking.
A fist clenched my stomach.
I dropped to my knees.
And vomited.
Someone hit my back again.
"The first time is the hardest. You'll get used to it."
There was great pleasure in his voice.
They were enjoying this massacre.
No.
I will never get used to this.
Was this heroism?
Is this why they summoned me?
To slaughter other races and save humanity?
I don't want this. I can't do this.
Then everything changed.
A sharp scream rose from the deep forest.
A goblin — taller than the others, skin darker, painted with red symbols — held a pointed staff.
He raised his staff. A crimson glow. Then—flames.
Like a roar pressed to my throat, it came down on us.
"Magic!" someone shouted.
A scream. Then an explosion. The world turned red.
I… didn't move.
The light struck directly into my chest.
And then… pain.
But not like the seal.
This pain didn't burn my flesh, it burned my mind.
Something inside me entered my body.
Flowing through my veins.
My eyes widened. My breath caught.
And then—
Everything exploded.
Golden flames burst from my hands — but they were not mine.
It was like a reflection of the goblin's magic. But stronger. Wilder.
The trees trembled. The goblins screamed.
I screamed too. But not with rage.
With fear.
My hands shone. Light flashed in my veins.
The seal on my chest burned like hell.
I cried out in fear.
Like a dark light, a scream ripped from my body.
Before I passed out, the last thing I saw…
was the goblins disappearing before my eyes.
The small goblin tripped while fleeing the light coming from me. He tried to get up. His eyes… not with anger, but filled with fear.
The soldiers crowded around me, everyone talking about me.
I think we had won the battle.
I had a part in the massacre I hated.
After all, unwillingly, I dealt the final blow.
But how? Was this magic? My magic?
As I drowned in thoughts, a loud sound rose.
Though I couldn't open my eyes, there was a loud applause.
People shouted, "Long live the hero!"
Was I that hero?