We were on the verge of breaking. The endless tide of shrieking goblins pressed in from all sides, a suffocating wave of crude clubs and snarling faces. Eric's shield arm was bleeding freely, Jin's leg was slowing him down, and Erica's breath came in ragged gasps, her mana dangerously low. For every goblin they struck down, two more seemed to take its place. We couldn't win a battle of attrition.
But I never planned to fight fair.
A cold, ruthless clarity washed over me. I couldn't fight them myself, but I didn't need to. I had an army waiting to be born. I just needed the raw materials.
"Erica! Masha!" I roared over the chaos, my voice cutting through their desperate struggle. "Focus your fire on the area directly in front of Jin! Don't spread it out! Give me a pile of corpses!"
They looked at me, their eyes wide with confusion and panic, but they trusted me. It was a massive gamble; concentrating their attacks meant leaving our flanks dangerously exposed.
"Jin! Eric! Hold that line for ten seconds, no matter what!" I commanded. "Talia, plug any gaps!"
They responded instantly. Jin and Eric braced themselves, becoming a wall of steel and resolve. Erica gathered the last of her strength and unleashed a torrent of fire, not as controlled fireballs, but as a roaring wave of flame that washed over the goblins charging the center. Simultaneously, Masha slammed her hands on the ground, and a forest of jagged ice spikes erupted in the same area, impaling those that survived the fire.
For a few horrifying seconds, our flanks buckled. Goblins surged past the kill zone, and Talia became a blur, her rapier darting out to meet them, her Kinetic Eye allowing her to intercept the most immediate threats. But the plan worked. In front of Jin and Eric lay a smoldering, frozen pile of at least a dozen goblin bodies.
That was all I needed.
"Now!" I yelled, stepping forward. I stretched out my hand, and for the first time, I didn't just observe the battle—I joined it. I reached for my power, not with my mind, but with my soul. A cold, black energy, like liquid shadow, coiled in my chest. It felt hungry. I pushed that energy out, pouring it into the pile of the dead.
The air grew frigid. The ground beneath the corpses darkened as if stained by ink. Then, with a series of sickening snaps and cracks, the dead goblins began to move. Their heads jerked up, their broken limbs dragging them to their feet. Their eyes, once black and beady, now glowed with a dead, violet light. They were no longer goblins; they were my puppets.
The living goblins froze. Their screeching faltered, replaced by whimpers of terror and confusion. They stared as their fallen brethren, now animated by my dark will, turned to face them.
"Kill them," I commanded, the words echoing with a power that was not my own.
My new undead army surged forward. They felt no pain, no fear. A goblin swung its club, shattering the arm of one of my puppets, but the undead creature simply kept coming, tearing at its former ally with its remaining hand. They were terrifyingly effective.
The tide of the battle turned in an instant. It was no longer ten of us against a horde. It was a chaotic war between the living and the dead, with my team as the executioners.
"Now we attack!" I yelled. "Press the advantage!"
Re-energized by the sudden shift, my team launched a vicious counterattack. Jin fought alongside one of the undead, using the mindless puppet as a shield to block a blow before spinning out to gut another goblin. Erica, laughing with grim satisfaction, could now unleash her fire more recklessly, blasting swaths of the battlefield without fear of hitting her allies—my puppets were disposable.
Masha froze a group of goblins solid, and one of my undead minions simply charged forward, shattering their frozen forms like glass. Talia danced through the chaos, her blade finding the throat of every goblin distracted by the horrifying sight of their reanimated kin. Eric and Jin pushed forward, their strength now amplified as they cut a path through the remaining enemies. Even Edgar and Juno joined the fray, using bursts of mana and their analysis to help their teammates find the weakest targets.
The goblins, horrified by this dark magic and overwhelmed by the combined assault, finally broke. Their courage shattered, they dropped their weapons and fled in every direction.
"No survivors," I commanded, my voice cold. "Hunt them down."
What followed was a slaughter. My undead puppets, relentless and tireless, ran down the fleeing goblins while my team picked off any that remained. Within minutes, the grove was silent, save for the crackling of lingering flames and the ragged breathing of my team. The ground was littered with corpses.
As I released my hold on them, my dozen undead puppets collapsed, once again becoming lifeless heaps of flesh. The cost was minimal, a slight drain on my own energy, but the reward was immense.
As the adrenaline faded, we stood amidst the carnage, wounded, exhausted, but victorious. From every dead goblin, a wisp of pure mana began to rise, filling the air with a faint, shimmering haze. There were nearly forty of them.
"The Goddess told us how to get stronger," I said, my voice resonating in the quiet grove. "This is our reward. Absorb it. All of it."
One by one, we focused, drawing in the energy of the slain. The feeling was incredible. It was a warm, invigorating rush that flooded our bodies, replenishing our spent stamina, sealing our minor cuts and bruises, and strengthening the core of our powers. It felt like drinking from a fountain of pure life after wandering through a desert.
We stood there for a long time, letting the power settle within us. We had faced our first true test and emerged not just victorious, but stronger. We had turned this forest's brutal law of survival to our advantage. This was our first harvest, and I knew it would not be our last.