While goblins were racing toward the northern side of the village, Ka’z quietly made his way toward the southern gates, using the shadows cast by the surrounding buildings as cover. His movements were deliberate and patient, despite the urgency of the mission ticking away in the corner of his vision.
The ranch could wait for a few more minutes. If he wanted to release the livestock and have them escape the village, he first needed an unobstructed route through the southern gate. There was no point setting hundreds of animals loose only for the goblins to close the gates and herd them back inside.
The first step was therefore obvious. He needed to eliminate the soldiers guarding the southern entrance and open the gates before heading toward the ranch.
Ka’z crouched behind the corner of a wooden building and carefully observed the area ahead. The security around the southern gate had become noticeably weaker, most likely because several warriors had already rushed north to help contain the flames consuming the barn. Two goblins remained stationed along the battlement while another two stood inside the watchtowers, but even those guards were barely paying attention to their surroundings.
Their gazes remained fixed on the orange glow illuminating the northern sky, and their faces were filled with concern as distant shouting continued to echo through the village.
They were so distracted that none of them noticed the young kobold slip out from the darkness and approach the very base of the gate.
Ka’z slowly raised his head.
The battlement was several meters above him, but that height meant very little to someone capable of manipulating the earth.
Bam!
The ground beneath his feet suddenly protruded upward, launching Ka’z into the air with tremendous force. His body rose toward the battlement as his claws reached for his weapon, and in the same instant, Ashin Grim flashed dangerously beneath the moonlight.
Two goblin heads jerked around in alarm. Neither had enough time to shout.
Ka’z landed heavily on the battlement and immediately turned his attention toward the watchtowers. His eyes glowed blood red as two thin but incredibly powerful strands of blood shot from his headless bodies of the two goblins he just killed.
Swoosh!
The blood threads crossed the distance between them almost instantly, piercing straight through the throats of the two goblins standing in the towers. Both warriors clutched desperately at their necks as blood poured from between their fingers and spilled down their chests before their bodies toppled from the elevated platforms.
Bam!
Ka’z jumped from the battlement and landed beside the massive wooden gates. He quickly reached for the thick wooden plank that had been placed across the entrance and pulled it free from its supports. The heavy lock came loose with a deep wooden groan, and the two gates immediately began swinging outward.
Bam!
Cool night air rushed through the opening, sweeping across Ka’z’s face and carrying the distant scent of the forest with it. He inhaled deeply for a moment, almost enjoying the breeze after spending so long surrounded by the stale air of the village.
Then his expression changed as he noticed something was approaching.
Ka’z’s Divine Perception had already detected the presence before his ears could pick up the sound of the footsteps.
He slowly turned around.
"You are the one Loki spoke of... The one carrying Ashin Grim and possessing immense talent for everything."
Buzz!
Ka’z’s gaze immediately settled on the old goblin standing several meters away. A dusty red cloak was draped over the man’s head, its hood concealing most of his face while one hand remained firmly wrapped around an old wooden staff. His body was thin and frail, and every step seemed to require effort, yet there was something strangely calm about the way he stood before Ka’z.
There was no anger in his eyes or hatred. Only a strange mixture of exhaustion, curiosity and acceptance.
Despite the old man’s age, Ka’z could see his Silver Core clearly through his Dragon Eyes. However, unlike the vibrant cores of younger warriors and magi, the light inside this one was dim. Its radiance flickered weakly, as though someone had slowly begun extinguishing a flame that had burned for decades.
Ka’z’s eyes narrowed.
It reminded him of Tong’a and O’nil. Their cores had also carried that same dim quality, although he had never understood what it meant until now.
’This goblin doesn’t have much time left.’
Ka’z tightened his grip around Ashin Grim.
Blood Empowerment!
Blood surged violently through his body, causing his muscles to swell as his golden scales rapidly turned crimson. The pressure rolling off him immediately intensified, and he raised his battle axe onto his shoulder. The Lightning Cutter Rune carved into the blade began glowing as electricity crackled around its edge.
The old goblin did not react. Instead, he looked at Ashin Grim.
"Grash... How did he die?" Varg asked calmly.
Ka’z initially wanted to say something hurtful. The goblin standing before him was an enemy, after all, and Ka’z had already spent the last few days tearing apart everything that stood between him and his objective. But there was something about the sincerity in the old man’s voice that made him hesitate.
He released a weak sigh.
"He died fighting the Gold Core guardian of our colony. He was riddled with holes from a Tier One Earth spell," Ka’z answered honestly.
Varg’s eyes widened slightly.
He had seen Tier One spells several times during his life, mostly through human magus he had encountered during expeditions. Even among the humans, such magic was powerful. Varg had spent much of his life trying to reproduce the technique, but despite all his efforts and years of study, he had never managed to reach that level of mastery.
"I see..." Varg slowly shook his head. "I didn’t know such a formidable figure was living in that colony."
His gaze returned to Ka’z, lingering on the young kobold’s crimson scales and the weapon resting against his shoulder.
"It’s comforting to know Grash was taken down by someone very formidable. He died the death worthy of a warrior of his caliber."
Ka’z could hear the emotions behind those words, but he honestly could not bring himself to care. Every second he spent standing there was another second slipping away from his mission.
Buzz!
[Information Acquired]
[Name: Varg]
[Race: Goblin]
[Position: Former Chief Shaman Of Ashmork]
[Core: Silver]
[Element: Earth & Plant]
Ka’z’s eyes briefly flickered across the information.
’Ooh, a goblin with real aptitude for magic. They really are rare.’
He raised his battle axe with both hands and lowered his stance.
"I’m sorry, old man, but I don’t have time to waste here anymore. I’m coming through!"
Varg smiled faintly and slowly nodded.
"I’m not sure if this old body can stop you, but I will try my best. I will accomplish my duty to this village and Chief Grash one last time."
Swoosh!
Ka’z exploded forward.
His feet tore against the ground as he crossed the distance between them in an instant, swinging Ashin Grim horizontally with enough force to cleave through Varg’s body.
But the blade struck nothing.
The air beneath Varg’s feet suddenly erupted, launching the old goblin upward and carrying him safely above the attack. His body rose with surprising grace despite his age, and while suspended in the air, he flicked his fingers downward.
"Earth Magic: Earth Spikes!"
Bang! Bang!
The ground around Ka’z suddenly exploded.
One massive earth spike after another tore through the soil, rapidly surrounding him from every direction. Within seconds, more than ten jagged pillars had risen from the earth, creating a cage of stone around him.
Ka’z raised his head, surprise flashing across his face.
"Is he blind or something?" he muttered, genuinely confused by the fact that none of the spikes had actually struck him directly.
Then he noticed something. Several of the spikes had risen considerably higher than the others and Ka’z’s expression changed as the towering spikes suddenly bent inward.
Buzz!
Ka’z immediately tightened his grip around Ashin Grim.
"Vael Mael!!!!!"
The Words of Power exploded from his throat with ancient authority.
Varg’s eyes widened in genuine shock as a fierce hurricane erupted around Ka’z. The violent wind tore through the earthen spikes, shattering them into countless fragments and blasting the debris outward in every direction.
"Loki wasn’t lying..." Varg gasped.
His fingers moved immediately.
Vines erupted from the earth and wrapped around his waist and limbs, pulling him backward and increasing the distance between himself and the raging storm. The old goblin understood instantly that remaining within Ka’z’s attack range would be suicidal.
Thud!
His feet finally struck the ground but Ka’z was already there.
Varg barely had time to register the young kobold standing directly before him with Ashin Grim raised overhead. He instinctively threw his hand forward, preparing another spell, but a sudden stabbing pain tore through his chest.
Varg’s heart faltered and his expression twisted as he gritted his teeth against the pain. That single moment of hesitation was all Ka’z needed.
Ashin Grim came down violently.
The blade tore through Varg’s chest with tremendous force, opening a deep wound as blood sprayed across the ground.
Varg’s body staggered backward.
For several seconds, he remained standing through sheer stubbornness before his knees finally gave out.
Thud!
His body collapsed onto the earth.
"Maybe..." Varg smiled faintly as he stared toward the dark sky. "Maybe I’m really too old for this..."
His vision began fading.
Memories flashed through his mind, carrying him backward through decades of battles, expeditions, victories and losses. He remembered Goresh. He remembered Grash. He remembered the early days of the Ashmork Clan, when they were nothing more than scattered tribes struggling to survive against stronger races. He remembered watching young goblins grow into warriors and then watching many of those same warriors disappear into the battlefield.
If this had happened during his prime, he probably would have been able to kill this young kobold.
But that time was gone.
His body was old. His mana circuits were worn. His core was fading, and he could barely maintain the techniques that had once come naturally to him. Even his ability to use the Words of Power had deteriorated with age because he could no longer endure the strain required to properly pronounce and sustain them.
His fingers twitched weakly against the soil.
"Molu... Loki... Crow... Kia..." His voice grew quieter with every name. "The fate of our Ashmork Clan rests in your hands..."
His eyes slowly lost their light.
Varg’s body finally went limp, leaving only the faint breeze passing through the open southern gates.
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