The goblin ran towards him at full speed and leapt.
It's cleaver raised high, body arcing forward with a shrill scream.
'Too fast.'
Nathan tried to move back.
His mind screamed at him to dodge, or retreat to put distance between himself and the blade.
But the tunnel was narrow and Nathan's footing imperfect.
His reaction just a fraction too slow.
The cleaver came down.
It was not deep, but was enough to hurt.
The blade tore across his vest with a sharp ripping sound.
Ripping through leather and scraping into flesh beneath.
Pain exploded across his chest, sudden burning sensation, stealing the air from his lungs.
"Fu—!"
Nathan staggered backward, gasping.
For a heartbeat, his mind went completely blank.
Then sensation crashed back in all at once.
Burning, heat and wetness on his torso.
'No—'
His eyes dropped involuntarily to his chest.
Blood.
Dark and spreading beneath the his vest.
'It cut me.'
Shock followed immediately after the pain.
'That shouldn't have happened.'
The thought felt absurdly loud in his head.
The cleaver was broken, chipped and old...
He had told himself. Convinced himself, that it wouldn't be able to do real damage.
'I was wrong.'
The realization hit hard.
And then came the second realization.
During the dodge, he hadn't pulled the spear free.
His weapon was still buried deep in the first goblin's corpse.
Wedged at an angle that made it impossible to retrieve quickly.
Nathan's breath hitched.
'I'm unarmed.'
Fear surged through him, cold and suffocating.
For a split second, his body locked up completely.
The goblin landed awkwardly but recovered fast.
Its eyes locked onto Nathan, and something changed in its posture.
Its shoulders squared, it's stance steadied.
It had seen blood.
It hissed loudly, a sound full of confidence now, and rushed him again.
Cleaver raised, intent unmistakable.
'Move! Move! Move!'
Nathan's mind raced, thoughts colliding chaotically.
'Run? But there's no space.'
'Grab the spear? Too slow.'
'The ability? I'll die before I learn how to cast it.'
The goblin closed the distance rapidly, boots splashing through shallow puddles, cleaver already beginning its next swing.
Nathan felt panic clawing at his throat.
'I'm going to die.'
The thought was sudden. Clear and terrifying.
And then another thought cut through it.
'If I show fear, it will kill me.'
The realization came with startling clarity.
'The goblin could sense my hesitation.'
Nathan clenched his jaw so hard his teeth ached.
'Stop.'
He forced his breathing to slow, even as pain burned across.
He raised his head, locking eyes with the creature charging toward him.
'I can't retreat.'
'I have to act.'
Instead of stepping back...
Nathan charged straight at it.
He surged forward, legs pumping, pushing through the pain screaming in his body.
The sudden movement shattered the goblin's expectation instantly.
The creature faltered.
Its steps stuttered.
Fear flashed across its face.
'Good.'
The goblin raised its cleaver high, trying to strike downward as Nathan rushed in but its timing was off.
Nathan slammed into it shoulder first.
The impact jarred his entire body, pain flaring across his chest, but he didn't stop.
The goblin was knocked backward, sprawling onto the wet concrete with a furious hiss.
Nathan stumbled back a step, chest heaving.
'Distance. I need distance.'
The goblin scrambled to rise.
Nathan's eyes darted to the spear.
'Get it. Now.'
He rushed to the first goblin's corpse and grabbed the shaft, yanking with both hands.
But the spear didn't move.
'No no no—'
He pulled again, harder.
Nothing.
The spear was buried too deep, pinned by the corpse's weight because of the angle it had entered.
'I can't—'
The second goblin was already moving again.
Nathan's heart dropped.
'Think! Think faster.'
His gaze snapped downward.
The cleaver.
The first goblin's weapon lay on the ground nearby, slick with blood.
'Weapon.'
Nathan lunged for it and grabbed the handle just as the goblin rushed him again.
It was heavy uneven and awkward to hold.
'I don't know how to use this.'
But that didn't matter.
The goblin shrieked and charged.
Nathan forced his focus inward, shutting out everything else.
'No distractions.'
The goblin swung horizontally, cleaver cutting toward his midsection.
Nathan jumped back just in time, the blade missing him by inches.
His boots slipped, water splashing, but he barely managed to keep his balance.
'Too close.'
He raised the cleaver.
'My turn now, bitch.'
The goblin lunged again.
Nathan stepped into the motion instead of retreating, a decision made on instinct rather than thought.
He slashed horizontally, aiming for the goblin's neck.
The blade connected.
The cleaver cut into the goblin's neck but didn't cut through.
It lodged there, stuck between muscle and bone.
The goblin screamed making choking, gurgling sounds.
Its body thrashed violently, claws scraping at Nathan's arm, nails digging uselessly into fabric.
Nathan's mind screamed.
'Push!'
He pushed with all the strength he had.
The cleaver tore deeper.
The goblin's strength faded rapidly, its movements slowing and then stopping altogether.
Its body went limp, collapsing against Nathan before sliding to the floor.
Silence slammed down around him.
[DING]
The sound rang sharply in his ears.
Nathan's legs nearly gave out.
'Sit down.'
The urge was overwhelming.
'No!'
The thought came like a slap.
'Sitting down would be a mistake.'
If he lost consciousness, he would die.
Nathan forced himself upright, teeth clenched hard enough to hurt.
Pain radiated from his chest in sharp pulses.
He staggered back to the first goblin's corpse.
'Get the spear.'
He planted one foot against the body, bracing himself, and grabbed the shaft with both hands.
He pulled.
It resisted.
He pulled harder.
With a wet, tearing sound, the spear came free.
Nathan stumbled back, barely managing to stay on his feet.
His chest burned.
Blood soaked through his shirt.
But he had his weapon.
'I can't afford to check notifications.'
'I need to get to safety first.'
Nathan turned and ran.
His boots slapped loudly against the concrete as he sprinted back through the tunnel.
Clutching his spear tightly in his hand, breath ragged and uneven.
Pain flared with every step.
But he didn't plan on slowing down.
Not until the reached safety.
***
The moment Nathan crossed back into the administrated area, something inside him finally gave way.
The tension that had been coiled tight in his chest since he entered the tunnel loosened all at once.
'I'm safe.'
Nathan walked a few unsteady steps forward, then leaned toward the wall and slid down until he was sitting on the ground.
The moment he sat, his legs started shaking.
His fingers moved to the strap of his bag. Opening it, he reached inside, taking out the regeneration potion.
He pulled the cork free and raised the vial to his lips, tilting his head back and chugging it all in one go.
The liquid was cold, it tasted bitter, almost metallic leaving an aftertaste that clung stubbornly.
Nathan coughed once and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
For half a second, nothing happened.
Then—
'Hot.'
The sensation hit him all at once, radiating from his chest.
His jaw tightened instinctively as the burning sensation spread and wrapped around his torso.
'This is normal,' he told himself desperately.
He had read about it before, and even watched hunters joke about how regeneration potions "felt worse than getting hit."
At the time, he'd thought they were exaggerating.
Turns out, they weren't...
Then slowly the sensation faded.
The burning reduced and the itching receded.
In its place came exhaustion.
'So tired…'
He lifted one shaking hand and pressed it gently against his chest, right where the cleaver had cut him.
No pain.
Nathan's eyes widened.
He slipped his fingers beneath the torn edge of his vest and touched his skin directly.
The wound was gone.
'It worked.'
Relief washed through him. He let his head fall back against the concrete and closed his eyes for a moment, just letting that fact sink in.
Just then he heard something.
Laughter.
Nathan's eyes snapped open.
The sound wasn't loud, but it was close.
He turned his head slightly.
Two hunters stood a short distance away, near one of the barricades, looking at him.
One of them leaned toward the other, saying something under his breath before snickering.
The other covered his mouth, shoulders shaking as he laughed, eyes flicking toward Nathan again.
They were pointing at him.
Confusion crept in slowly, pushing aside the relief.
'What…?'
Nathan frowned faintly, glancing down at himself.
At first, all he saw was his vest, torn with dirt smeared across the leather.
But then he saw his pant was streaked with grime, and the white t-shirt he'd worn that morning.
It wasn't white anymore.
Large red stains on the fabric spreading across his chest and stomach.
Some of it had dried, stiffening the cloth.
The realization hit him harder than he expected.
'I look… horrible.'
He looked like a rookie who'd stumbled back from the tunnels barely holding himself together.