Insomniac Player

Goblins poured inside the cave like a flood; the players fought them and pinned the dead at the entrance.

Then the assault shifted again; the scariest monster stepped forward: the Goblin Chief.

After the Goblin Chief, Damien noticed something else: silence.

The endless screams that had filled the battlefield for hours suddenly ceased, as if someone had stolen every sound from the forest. The goblins stopped shouting, and the wolves halted their howls.

The goblins stopped shouting, and the wolves halted their howls.

Those still alive immediately retreated several steps, creating a clear path toward the cave entrance.

Damien’s heartbeat quickened. "...No..."

Heavy footsteps echoed through the shattered barricade.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

A massive figure emerged from the drifting dust.

The Goblin Chief.

His crude iron armor was stained with blood that wasn’t his own. A ragged crimson cape, likely stitched together from the hides of beasts, fluttered behind him.

Resting across one shoulder was an enormous cleaver, its edge chipped from countless battles yet still terrifyingly sharp.

Above his head floated a translucent blue window.

[Goblin Chief Lv.15]

When the survivors saw the number, every remaining trace of hope disappeared.

Lv.15!

The strongest goblin Damien had fought until now had only been Level Three.

This... this wasn’t merely stronger. It belonged to an entirely different league.

The chief wasn’t alone. Three more figures stepped into the cave.

Unlike ordinary goblins, these stood slightly shorter than the chief. Their bodies were wrapped in mismatched iron plates, and each carried a brutal weapon forged from black metal.

One wielded a battle axe, another carried a long spear, and the last held twin curved blades. Damien recalled seeing some larger figures in the camp; they must be them.

Above each floated the same notification.

Goblin Elite Lv.10

Goblin Elite Lv.10

Goblin Elite Lv.10

Rahul’s lips trembled. "...We’re fucked."

No one corrected him. Because everyone was thinking the same thing.

The cave that had protected them for two days had become their tomb.

The Goblin Chief slowly swept his gaze across the survivors. His expression held neither anger nor excitement. Only indifference. To him, they weren’t enemies; they were prey.

His expression held neither anger nor excitement.

Only indifference, to him. They weren’t enemies; they were prey.

His eyes eventually settled on Damien. For a brief moment, neither moved.

Damien felt every instinct in his body scream.

’Run.’

But there was nowhere left to run. A loud metallic clang echoed through the cave.

John stepped forward, planting the head of his battered mace against the stone floor.

His broad back blocked Damien’s view of the Chief. "...Kid."

John didn’t turn around. "You’ve done enough."

Damien opened his mouth. "John..."

"No." The giant interrupted him with unusual seriousness. "If anyone’s supposed to stop that ugly bastard..."

He rested the mace on his shoulder. "...It’s the old man."

A faint chuckle escaped Rahul despite the situation. "You aren’t even that old."

"I feel old." John rolled his shoulders before glancing back with his familiar carefree grin.

"Besides... If I survive this, I’m charging all of you for emotional damages."

Imran laughed quietly. "I’ll pay."

Rahul nodded. "I’ll even throw in dinner."

John smiled. "Good, then I have a reason not to lose."

He inhaled deeply. Then, he roared. The sound exploded through the cave like thunder.

The sound exploded through the cave like thunder.

Without another word, John charged. Every heavy footstep shook the ground beneath him.

He held the mace low before swinging upward with every ounce of strength left in his exhausted body.

The weapon howled through the air.

It was the strongest strike Damien had seen him unleash.

Even an ogre would’ve had its skull reduced to dust.

The Goblin Chief simply extended one arm.

CLANG!

The mace stopped, caught with only one hand.

The chief hadn’t even shifted his footing.

John froze; his eyes widened in disbelief. "...You’ve got to be kidding me..."

The chief slowly tightened his grip around the steel handle.

The metal groaned; cracks spread along the haft.

Then, without warning, his right leg shot forward.

BOOM!

The kick landed squarely in John’s chest.

The impact sounded like a battering ram smashing into castle gates. John’s enormous body lifted completely off the ground and then was launched backwards like a stone from a catapult.

John’s enormous body lifted completely off the ground.

For a split second, he hung weightless in the air.

Then he was launched backwards like a stone from a catapult.

He crashed through the remains of the wooden barricade.

Splintered timber exploded in every direction.

Still... he didn’t stop.

His body slammed into the cave wall with enough force to shake the entire chamber. Spiderweb cracks spread through solid stone; his mace slipped from numb fingers.

John slowly slid down the wall. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.

"Heh..." He tried to laugh. Only blood came out.

His vision blurred; the giant attempted to stand, but his legs refused.

The world spun. Then, everything went black.

"JOHN!" Rahul shouted.

Damien sprinted toward him before stopping halfway.

The chief had already begun walking again. He hadn’t even bothered finishing John.

As far as he was concerned, the strongest human here had already been defeated.

Rahul clenched his spear; his knuckles turned white. "We can’t let him reach Damien."

Imran silently pulled out his axe from the goblin’s skull. "No. We won’t."

The two exchanged a single glance; years of friendship needed no words.

"Don’t engage; none of us will die anyway. Just survive. Stick to the plan," Damien yelled. But for the others, it was a matter of pride.

Rahul moved left and Imran right.

They attacked together, exactly as they had practiced while fighting wolves. They attacked together.

Rahul thrust his spear toward the chief’s throat.

Imran aimed low, hoping to cripple one of the monster’s legs.

A perfect pincer. Against any ordinary enemy, it would have succeeded.

The chief disappeared. No... he had simply moved faster than their eyes could follow.

A flash of cold steel cut through the cave. Then once again, time itself seemed to slow.

Rahul stared blankly at the wooden shaft in his hands.

The upper half of the spear spun away; a deep crimson line slowly appeared across his chest.

Blood burst outward; the force of the strike threw him backwards across the cave floor.

"RAHUL!" Imran roared.

Ignoring his safety, he swung his axe with everything he had.

The chief didn’t even look; his cleaver reversed direction effortlessly.

The flat of the blade slammed into Imran’s shoulder before the edge carved diagonally across his chest.

The young man cried out in agony; his axe flew from his grasp.

His body tumbled beside Rahul, leaving a trail of blood across the stone.

Both were alive, barely. The chief knew killing them would only make them reappear, fresher and full of energy.

Silence filled the cave; the remaining survivors instinctively stepped backwards.

Some clutched their weapons with trembling hands. Others quietly wept.

Three days, three days of fighting.

And the Goblin Chief had destroyed their strongest fighters in less than half a minute.

The Chief finally stopped; only a few steps separated him from Damien.

Their eyes met once more; the monster slowly raised his massive cleaver.

Its jagged edge reflected Damien’s pale, exhausted face.

His fingers tightened around the hilt of the wolf-fang dagger John had once given him.

His breathing became shallow; his heart pounded so loudly he could barely hear anything else.

He knew... this was the end.

Yet somewhere deep inside him, another thought surfaced.

’If I’m going to die... At least swing once.’

Damien slowly raised the dagger. The Goblin Chief smiled... a cruel, mocking smile, like a hunter who had already caught his prey.

Damien took one step forward, then another. Finally... he lunged, knowing the moment was his only chance to keep the chief from reaching the others.

The tiny dagger flashed toward the Goblin Chief’s chest.

The chief casually leaned aside, effortlessly avoiding the desperate strike.

A low, grunted chuckle escaped his lips. To him, this wasn’t combat. It was entertainment.