CHAPTER 162: REQUEST FULFILLED

The morning sun spilled through the half-repaired shutters of the village hall, painting stripes of golden light over the wooden floor where Inigo and Lyra sat sharing a simple breakfast with the village elder and two of the more able-bodied hunters. The scent of smoked meat and herbs filled the air, but Inigo barely tasted it—his mind was already on the mission ahead.

"You’re sure they came from the east?" he asked, placing a half-eaten loaf back on his tin plate.

The older man nodded. "Aye. We’ve lost cattle and scouts to that side for over two weeks now. The woods get thicker there, and the old hills rise. There’s a ravine—deep and narrow. That’s where we think the nest is. No one dares go too close."

"No one needs to," Inigo replied. "Just give us the coordinates as close as you remember."

Lyra, sitting beside him, jotted notes with a piece of charcoal onto a rough map sketched by one of the villagers. She marked the river that curved around the base of the hills and the sloping forests thick with underbrush.

The elder looked at them both with concern. "You’ll be going alone?"

"The aircraft only fits two," Inigo said, standing. "And it’s better that way. Fast, clean, and fewer people at risk."

The villagers nodded solemnly. They had seen the might of the helicopter. They knew it didn’t need a platoon to level an army.

"Just... come back alive," the elder said. "You saved us once. I’d hate to see such bravery lost in the wild."

Inigo gave a faint smile. "We don’t plan on dying today."

Within the hour, the Apache was prepped and ready on the open field. Its blades spun slowly at first, then picked up speed, slicing the morning air with mechanical rhythm. Lyra climbed aboard, securing her harness behind the cockpit.

The villagers gathered once more, waving as the aircraft lifted into the sky. Dust kicked up in swirling clouds, grass flattening under the pressure. The children cheered, hands shielding their faces as the steel beast soared upward.

From above, the village shrank to a cluster of rooftops amid green and gold. The forest lay ahead like a vast, rumpled blanket, full of secrets—and danger.

Inigo banked the Apache toward the east, following the ridgeline as the map directed. Lyra had the parchment spread over her lap, eyes darting between landmarks below and notations made in charcoal.

"There’s the bend in the river," she said, pointing. "And those rocky outcrops—we should be nearing the ravine."

Inigo adjusted the heading slightly, switching the main screen to terrain-scan mode. Heat signatures shimmered faintly across the display, but none strong enough to indicate large concentrations of creatures.

Then, a flicker.

He narrowed his eyes.

"Got something," he muttered.

Lyra leaned closer. "What is it?"

"Cluster of low-level heat. Small bodies. Dozens."

He toggled the infrared overlay and zoomed in.

What emerged was a jagged crevice cutting through the forest floor, hidden beneath a canopy of thick-leafed trees. It would’ve been almost invisible from the ground—perfect for a goblin den. And around it? Movement. Dozens of figures, barely larger than children, swarming in and out of the shadows.

"That’s it," Lyra said with certainty. "That has to be the nest. I will get down."

Inigo didn’t respond immediately. He switched the armament system from standby to active mode.

Hydra pods: Online.

Chain gun: Loaded.

Hellfire missile: One remaining.

Fuel level: 72%.

He exhaled slowly. "All systems green."

The Apache descended like a hawk from the sun. And Lyra used the opportunity to hop out from the Apache mid-air and landed gracefully to the ground. Branches swayed violently as the helicopter dipped beneath the treetops, hovering just beyond the ravine’s edge. The rotors kicked up debris and frightened birds as Inigo stabilized the craft.

Lyra readied her bow, even though she knew it was the Apache that would do the heavy lifting. Still, it felt wrong to go into battle unarmed.

Inigo opened the targeting overlay, eyes flicking between blinking heat signatures and visible clusters of movement.

"Confirming hostile density... over forty in the area. Possible sub-nests underground."

He tapped the trigger control.

"Let’s trim the numbers."

FWOOOSH!

The first Hydra rocket screamed into the center of the ravine, hitting with a thunderous boom. Smoke erupted into the trees, and the ground split with the concussive force. Screeches rose from within—high-pitched and inhuman.

"Here they come!" Lyra called, pointing at figures scrambling out of the hole like angry ants.

Goblins poured from the fissures—some armed with jagged blades, others with slings or crude bows. A few wore scraps of armor, likely looted from past victims. They shrieked and pointed skyward, realizing too late what awaited them.

Inigo didn’t give them time to regroup.

BRRRRT!

The 30mm chain gun fired in brutal bursts, cutting across the treetops and pulverizing the front line of goblins. Dirt exploded. Trees splintered. The clearing became a killing field.

Still, more emerged.

One bold goblin launched a firepot upward, hoping to strike the hovering beast. It shattered mid-air, flames curling harmlessly in the wind.

Inigo activated the side-mounted thermal camera. Several larger heat signatures appeared near the rear of the ravine—den leaders, perhaps.

"Let’s see what you’re hiding."

He fired the remaining Hydra rockets in rapid succession—two to the back of the cave, one to collapse the main tunnel mouth.

The blasts were deafening. A wave of smoke and dirt shot up, along with the agonized howls of buried creatures.

Chunks of rock tumbled down, sealing the exits. The nest was being crushed from above and within.

More goblins tried to flee into the woods.

Lyra took her cue, raising her bow. "I’ll cover the flanks!"

Her arrows flew, guided by years of hunter’s instinct. One goblin took a shaft through the throat as it climbed a root. Another staggered backward, arrow in chest, only to be blown apart by a burst from the Apache’s gun.

Within fifteen minutes, the ravine fell silent.

No more movement.

No more screeches.

Just smoke, ash, and shattered earth.

Inigo circled once, scanning for remaining signatures. "Looks like we got them all. Nest is neutralized."

Lyra slumped in her seat, bow across her knees, chest heaving. "That was... overwhelming."

He nodded, eyes still scanning the horizon.

"Let’s mark the site for cleanup. If any survive underground, the next blast will finish them."

As they ascended once more, Lyra looked down at the devastation—the collapsed tunnels, the bodies, the lingering black smoke.

"They won’t be raiding villages again."

"No," Inigo said. "This nest is done."

They turned the Apache back westward, toward the grateful village they’d left behind.

And for once, the sky seemed a little brighter.