"UGAAHH!... DIE!"
Sylvana's blade swept out, a silver arc in the gloom. A goblin's head flew from its shoulders, its body crumpling to the ground with a wet thud. She didn't pause to watch it fall. Her footwork was precise, a dance she'd learned in the training yards of the palace, now repurposed for the filth and desperation of this cavern. She was a whirlwind of steel and grim determination, a cornered beast lashing out with calculated fury.
But no matter what, she was an injured, cornered beast.
For every goblin she cut down, another took its place. They swarmed her, a tide of green flesh and rusty iron. A crude spear glanced off her shoulder, tearing through her leather tunic and drawing a line of fire across her skin. She grunted, twisting away, and drove her sword through the attacker's chest.
She was tired. The gash on her thigh, a deep, ugly thing she'd received in the initial ambush, was screaming. Every movement sent a fresh jolt of agony through her leg, and her strength was a fading candle in the suffocating dark of the warren. The metallic tang of her own blood mingled with the reek of goblin filth in her nostrils.
"KYAAHH!"
Suddenly, a scream came from behind her, from inside the earthen wall she had made.
"!!!" Sylvana's heart froze. She turned only to see two goblins savagely hacking at the earthen wall with their rusty tools.
"PRINCESS!" Sylvana's vision went red. "GET AWAY FROM HER!"
She abandoned her defensive stance and kicked off the ground despite the screaming protest of her injured leg, her body moving on pure instinct and fury.
The first goblin didn't even turn in time—her blade bit deep into its neck, severing spine and windpipe in one savage stroke. Blood sprayed, hot and stinking, as it collapsed in a twitching heap.
CRACK!
The second turned, grinning, only to have that grin carved off its face as Sylvana's sword tore across its jaw, sending teeth and blood spraying across the stone.
She landed hard, nearly collapsing as pain shot up her thigh like lightning.
'Ugh!... No… no, not now…'
The earthen wall was cracking. Thin fractures spiderwebbed across its surface under the relentless hacking of the goblins. The princess's terrified whimpers were a poison in her ears.
"Sylvana…! Sylvana, please…!"
"I'm here!" she shouted, forcing strength into her voice she didn't feel. "I'm right here!"
But victory was short-lived.
"GRRAAHH!"
The chief goblin bellowed from across the cavern, its massive cleaver raised high. The other goblins, emboldened, surged forward in a howling mass. One leaped onto her back, its claws raking her neck. She bucked wildly, slamming her elbow into its snout, feeling cartilage crunch. It fell away, but not before its teeth grazed her ear, tearing flesh.
Pain. Everywhere, pain. Her vision blurred, sweat stinging her purple eyes. The thigh wound had opened wider, blood slicking the stone beneath her feet. She slipped, just for a heartbeat, and that was enough.
A club smashed into her sword arm. Numbness exploded down to her fingers. Her weapon clattered away, spinning into the shadows.
"No..." she gasped, lunging for it. Too slow.
Rusty blades and clubs rained down. She dodged, twisted, and fought with fists and knees. Her punch caved in a goblin's face, her elbow snapped another's nose. But there were too many. A spear grazed her ribs, and another stabbed shallow into her side. She screamed, a raw, animal sound.
Inside the wall, the princess's cries grew frantic.
"SYLVANA! HELP! PLEASE!"
"Hold on, my lady! I'm—"
BOOM!
A massive blow from the chief's cleaver caught her across the back. The world exploded in white-hot agony. She hit the ground hard, tasting blood and dirt.
Goblins piled on, their weight pinning her like a landslide. Filthy hands tore at her clothes, groping, clawing. She thrashed, bit, clawed back, drawing screams from her attackers.
"SYLVANA! HELP ME!!"
In the corner of her vision, the earthen wall finally shattered. A pair of goblins reached in, their dirty claws latching onto the princess's arms, dragging her from her meager shelter.
"AAAAHHHHH!"
Sylvana's vision turned a terrifying, blood-red shade. She tried to find something, a desperate surge of strength in her arms. She was a protector. A sworn shield. She had failed.
"Ki ki ki," the chief's grinning maw, its yellow teeth bared. "Pretty elf... mine now."
"NO!" Sylvana screamed, a raw, guttural sound that tore from the depths of her soul. She bucked, her mind screaming for a spell, for a weapon, for anything.
But all she could feel was the cold, dirty ground and the crushing weight of her failure. She and her princess were going to suffer a fate worse than death.
To be used as breeding stock for these... things.
The goblins held her down. The chief approached her with a sadistic glee in its beady eyes. It leaned down, its foul breath washing over her face.
"Elf... mine."
His minions were holding her tight, their grubby hands pressing her into the dirt. She thrashed, a futile, desperate struggle against their combined weight.
"P-Please... anyone..." Sylvana whispered, a final, broken prayer to a world that had already abandoned her and her princess. "Save her..."
And then, a shadow fell over them.
It appeared suddenly, a towering monolith of green muscle that blotted out the dim light from the glowing fungi. No one was paying attention to it, not even the goblins that were still pulling the princess.
"!!!" Only Sylvana, who was on the ground, saw it.
Her purple eyes, wide with terror, slowly focused on the figure. He was huge. A mountain of green flesh, taller and broader than any man she had ever seen. A crude loincloth was wrapped around his waist, and two formidable tusks jutted from his lower jaw. His glowing amber eyes were fixed on the scene, his expression unreadable.
An Orc.
He held a bone axe, dark with old blood, in one massive hand, ready to swing.
"H-Help... us." Sylvana didn't care if she was seeing things or if he was a monster; he was the only hope they had left. "Please help—"
She didn't get the chance to finish.
BOOM!
The Orc didn't hesitate. He moved with a speed that belied his immense size, a blur of brutal efficiency. The bone axe swept through the air, its arc perfect. The two goblins holding her legs didn't even have time to register the new threat. Their heads simply separated from their bodies in a spray of dark blood, their corpses collapsing in a heap.
"..."
The world seemed to hold its breath.
The goblins froze, their yellow eyes wide with disbelief. Their primitive minds struggled to process the sudden, violent arrival of this new predator. They were the top of the food chain inside their nest, the kings of this filth-ridden domain. And now, a god of slaughter had walked into their temple.
The Orc, Valkar, didn't give them time to think. He took a step forward, his heavy foot shaking the very ground. He looked down at the goblins pinning Sylvana, his glowing amber eyes devoid of pity or anger. It was the look a butcher gives a slab of meat before the cleaver falls.
"GET… OFF." His voice was a low growl, kicking the goblin chief in the butt with so much force that the armored brute flew forward like a discarded toy, tumbling head over heels until he slammed into the far wall of the cavern with a sickening crunch.
Valkar swiftly picked up a goblin by its head and threw it toward the ones that held the princess.
The shocked goblins holding the princess were caught off guard. From the moment that Valkar slayed the first goblin until he had thrown the second, only 3 seconds had passed.
Their hesitation was fatal.
It was then that the goblins finally realized. They were not hunters anymore. They were the prey.
Panic, a scent far sweeter to Valkar than the female's lust, flooded the cavern. The goblins holding Sylvana scrambled away, their beady eyes wide with terror. They tripped over their own feet in their frantic haste to make some distance between them and the green mountain of death.
"Princess!" Sylvana seized the opportunity. With a desperate cry, she crawled across the ground, ignoring the fiery protest of her wounds, and lunged for her lady.
"Are you hurt? Are you okay?!" she asked, her hands quickly checking the princess for injuries, her mind a whirlwind of fear and a sliver of impossible hope.
The princess, a trembling, tear-soaked mess, could only shake her head, burying her face in Sylvana's torn tunic.
"Get behind me," Sylvana ordered, her voice ragged but firm. She picked up the nearest rusty sword, her grip weak but her stance unwavering. She placed herself between the princess and the unfolding carnage, a broken shield refusing to shatter.
Her purple eyes, wide and disbelieving, were locked on the orc who, for some reason, chose to save them.
Valkar ignored them. His focus was absolute. The hunt. The slaughter. The system quest. The clock in the corner of his vision still ticked, a grim reminder of his own, more pressing deadline.
[Reminder: 40 Hours 32 Minutes remaining.]
"Ugh... I don't have time for this," he growled, the words lost in the din of battle. He needed a female. He'd found two. But he couldn't just... take one. Not with the other watching. And certainly not with a dozen goblins still needing to be turned into experience points.
"Let's kill these rats quickly, take the women, and deal with the curse."