CHAPTER 22: GOBLIN SLAYER!

"Kikiikuu."

Gorthak’s deep chuckle echoed through the cavern like a curse on the wind. His eyes gleamed with malevolent amusement as he watched the young human cub rise shakily to his feet.

"If you can defeat my minions, perhaps... just perhaps, I’ll consider letting you live," the shaman jeered mockingly, lips twisting into a cruel smile.

Astrael’s breath came in ragged gasps as he pushed himself upright, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his blade. The cold cavern air bit at his exposed skin, but he barely felt it anymore. What surrounded him now wasn’t just goblins—it was death. Dozens of snarling figures closed in from all directions. He was completely surrounded.

Worse, there was no room for plans or clever tricks anymore.

Every thought he had. Every flicker of an idea. The shaman could feel it—read it. It was like being trapped inside a nightmare where every move you made was already known, already countered.

He didn’t stand a chance.

And yet, somehow, he was still standing.

At just five years old, Astrael was holding a blade, facing down a monster horde and standing toe-to-toe with a goblin shaman. That fact alone was nothing short of a miracle. A child who should have been reading books, laughing with friends, clinging to his mother’s side—here he was, bloodstained and battle-worn, standing in the belly of hell.

He had already escaped a past no child should ever endure, finally receiving the love he had always yearned for. And yet now, as if mocking his dreams, the world had cast him into this cursed dungeon. Surrounded by monsters. Fighting for survival.

As if the god was playing him like a toy. Giving hope only to be destroyed.

’Why...?’ he thought bitterly. ’Why give me all this only to strip it away?’

It felt as if the gods themselves were playing him like a marionette, pulling his strings just to watch him dance, just to see him break.

A growl snapped him back to reality. He turned his head and saw it—a wave of green creatures, snarling and screeching, rushing toward him from every direction. A sea of goblins closing in, eager to tear him apart.

Astrael’s eyes narrowed, and something inside him snapped.

"Come on then, all of you!" he roared, teeth bared in defiance. "Come at me, you rotten green shits!"

He dropped into his stance with blade gleaming faintly. His body was trembling but steady. Even surrounded, he would not die easily. He would fight.

He had to.

Across the battlefield, Gorthak watched him with a look of twisted pleasure. Oh, how he relished this—watching a human on the edge, hope barely clinging to his face. The despair, the panic, the raw helplessness... it was beautiful.

He didn’t like to kill his prey too quickly. No, he liked to break them slowly. Let them believe they had a chance. Give them a taste of hope—just enough—before crushing it beneath his heel.

That was the moment he savoured the most.

His fingers trembled in delight as he leaned on his crooked staff. He knew about him earlier. Every goblin in the camp was tethered to him by blood magic. They are his eyes and ears. The moment the first goblin scout had died, he had known. He had watched the battle from start to end from the shadows, amused as the "child" moved.

He knew about him. He can feel that. All the goblins are connected to him through his magic. Every goblin was his eyes and ears. The very first goblin Astrael killed, he got alerted, but after seeing only a puny human child come, he was beyond happiness. He watched every battle.

At first, he’d been amused. Puny. Weak. Barely any aura. A human child no older than five.

He had almost laughed himself sick. That’s why he sent the hobgoblin to kill the nuisance.

Yet, to his astonishment, this scrawny little human had somehow managed to slay his hobgoblin, creatures far stronger than what any ordinary child should handle. It was nothing short of a miracle. Gorthak’s amusement slowly turned to suspicion. This boy... he was no ordinary cub.

And now, a more troubling question crept into his mind—how had a mere human child even managed to enter this forsaken domain?

But now... now that they stood face to face... he felt something strange. An aroma, unlike anything he’d sensed before. It’s like instinct. Every cell of his body keeps telling him to devour the human in front of him. A richness to Astrael’s spirit. A strange pull.

This human cub wasn’t ordinary. He can feel. He knew it in his bones.

If he could absorb Astrael—devour him, then perhaps... just perhaps, he could ascend.

No! Certainly, he could break the barrier that had locked him in this pit for decades. The thought alone made his hunched form tremble with excitement.

"Kiiikuukkaa..."

His laugh slithered across the stone, growing louder.

And the battle was only beginning.

***

Astrael’s eyes locked onto the first goblin lunging at him with his club. With a sharp breath and a flicker of motion, his blade flashed—a blur of blue light.

Shhhhk—thud.

The goblin’s head spiralled through the air, its body collapsing in a twitching heap before it even realised it was dead.

[You have acquired the soul energy of a level 2 Goblin Bruiser]

[+120 EXP]

Another came at him from behind. Astrael sidestepped and slashed with a clean horizontal arc, ending his life

A third, hefting a rusted axe, charged forward. Astrael ducked low.

[Quick Draw]

Slash.

A single strike ended the goblin’s charge.

[You have acquired the soul energy of a level 1 Goblin]

[+90 EXP]

Astreal don’t know how many he killed. Ten? Fifteen? Maybe more.

Astrael moved like a shadow, weaving between clubs and spears, blade flashing with deadly elegance. Each movement was sharper than the last. Every motion carved a path of destruction. Where he passed, only corpses remained.

[You have acquired the soul energy of a level 2 Goblin]

[+110 EXP]

[You have acquired the soul energy of a level 3 Goblin scout]

[+130 EXP]

[You have acquired the soul energy of a level 2 Goblin]

[+120 EXP]

...

Every time he levelled up, all the fatigue faded away, and with new vigour, he slaughtered in his way.

And then the hobgoblin enters with their axe and spear. Astrael didn’t wait for their attack. He has to end this quickly. Astrael took a step back, then activated [Mana Augmentation]. His muscle coiled, then exploded forward.

His sword shimmered with intense blue light as it met the hobgoblins’ chest. The blade sliced through with ease, tearing flesh and bone. One hobgoblin fell with a spray of black blood.

Astrael’s eyes flared blue as he twisted and cleaved the beast’s leg at the knee. Before the creature could scream, its head followed.

[You have acquired the soul energy of a level 3 Hobgoblin]

[You have acquired the soul energy ....

...

He didn’t know how long he had fought. Minutes? Hours? It didn’t matter.

The sound of screams from the goblins echoed from the cavern. With every sword, a body fell.

[Ding!]

[Congratulations to the host for gaining a new title: Goblin Slayer]

[Goblin Slayer: You have slain a significant number of goblins, earning fear and respect among their kind. This title marks the bearer as a relentless hunter of their kind.

It grants a 10% increase in damage against all goblin-type enemies. Goblins who sense the bearer are more likely to flee or hesitate in fear. Additionally, the bearer gains a slight boost to intimidation when facing goblin-related foes. ]

Suddenly, a system notification chimed in his mind, but Astrael was too busy to care. Now every goblin could feel the fear, hesitation and intimidation.

Suddenly, a system notification chimed in his mind, but he had no time to focus on it. His blade danced through the chaos. Now every goblin present in the cavern began to falter. fear creeping into their eyes. Now they are hesitating to step. They no longer knew who the real monster was anymore.

And above it all, watching from his perch near the bone-marked tent, Gorthak’s expression began to twist.d.

The grin—the confident, mocking grin that had never left his face—was gone.

His clawed fingers tightened on his staff, which trembled faintly under his grip.

"This shouldn’t be happening..." he whispered, eyes narrowing.

He had expected the child to tire, to fall after killing a few. Perhaps to make a scene before being overwhelmed. But not this.

Every time Astrael kills, he grows stronger.

Every death, every kill, is feeding him.

And now, the soul-link that tethered Gorthak to his goblin kin was flickering. Each thread dimmed as more goblins fell.

"This boy... he’s feeding on them..."

He hadn’t sent a child into the meat grinder.

He had invited a monster.

And that monster was only getting stronger.

.

***

🌟 Hey, fellow traveller of tales and treasures! 🧭 Your presence here is a journey filled with surprises, like uncovering hidden gems 💎. Isn’t it fascinating how a little GOLDEN ✨ something can change everything? 💛