The forest smelled of iron and smoke.
Klein wiped Whisperfang clean against the grass, watching the dark blade gleam faintly in the fading light. The fire from the goblin camp flickered behind him, casting long, jagged shadows that danced like restless ghosts.
Three dead goblins. Two had escaped.
'They'll probably warn the others,' Klein thought.
"Indeed," Paros replied, his tone calm but almost cheerful. "Though I must say, you handled that beautifully. Clean strikes, minimal noise. You're a natural."
'I didn't feel like it,' Klein said quietly, glancing down at the bodies. 'They were fast—but weak. Like fighting overgrown rats.'
"That's precisely what they are," Paros said. "Pests with blades. Still, you underestimate what panic can do to even the smallest mind. Those two will run to their kin, squealing about the death that walks like a shadow. Expect company soon."
Klein sighed. 'So I don't get to rest yet.'
"Rest is for the complacent," Paros teased. "And besides, this is an excellent opportunity to test endurance."
Klein rose, rolling his shoulders. His small body didn't ache—his Dragonheart pulsed with warmth, keeping fatigue at bay. It was strange, feeling so alive after a fight. The thrill still lingered in his veins like a soft hum.
He sheathed Whisperfang briefly and scanned the treeline. The woods stretched deep and endless, a dark sea of rustling leaves and distant cries.
"North," Paros said. "They'll rally near the ridge. Goblins are creatures of habit. If you hurry, you can reach them before they gather too many."
Klein started walking.
The forest grew thicker as he advanced, roots twisting like serpents underfoot. The late afternoon light bled through the canopy, painting the ground gold and green. Somewhere ahead, he heard the faint echo of chittering laughter.
'They really don't learn, do they?'
"Ah, no. Goblins possess an impressive dedication to stupidity. It's almost admirable."
Klein smirked slightly, moving between trees with quiet precision. He was smaller, lighter—harder to detect. The lessons Paros whispered in his mind guided his steps, turning each movement into something deliberate.
The forest thinned slightly ahead. Through the leaves, he saw another camp—a larger one this time.
Five goblins crouched near a pit fire, while two more stood guard with rusted blades. Behind them was a crude wooden cage, and inside it—Klein's eyes narrowed—a terrified villager, a young man bound by rope.
'Prisoner,' he thought.
Paros hummed softly. "How quaint. Goblins rarely keep them alive long. Perhaps you've found yourself a side quest."
'I'm not here to play hero.'
"Of course not," Paros said smoothly. "But consider this—save him, and he'll owe you. Debts are the most useful currency in any world."
Klein considered that. 'Not wrong.'
He crouched low, watching the guards. They were slouching, inattentive, occasionally throwing pebbles at each other. The ones by the fire were gnawing on bones, too distracted to notice the small shadow watching them.
'Seven of them,' he counted. 'Manageable.'
"You handled five," Paros reminded him. "Seven will only be twice the entertainment."
'That's not how math works.'
"Details."
Klein exhaled slowly, unsheathing Whisperfang. The blade caught the light for an instant, then dulled again—swallowed by its own darkness.
"Master," Paros whispered, his tone suddenly serious. "Try something new. Channel your heartbeat into the dagger. Whisperfang will resonate with your pulse. You'll feel… lighter."
Klein frowned. 'How?'
"Simply think of movement. The dagger will do the rest."
He took a steady breath and did as told.
Something shifted—an almost imperceptible pull inside his chest. His heartbeat synchronized with a faint vibration from Whisperfang. The blade shimmered faintly, as if whispering secrets too fast to hear.
'That's new,' he thought.
"Now move."
Klein did.
He burst from the shadows, his small frame blurring through the dim light. The first guard didn't even register his presence before Whisperfang slid cleanly across his throat.
Blood sprayed in a fine mist.
The second guard turned, eyes wide. Klein pivoted, stepping close, and plunged the dagger between its ribs. The creature shrieked once, then fell silent.
The five near the fire jumped up, shouting in alarm.
"Human! Human boy!" one barked in broken speech.
Klein ignored them. His pulse was calm, steady. He crouched, scooped a small rock, and flicked it toward the cage. It clattered loudly, drawing two goblins away from the group.
He moved like shadow.
Whisperfang cut through the first goblin's spine, then swept upward into the next one's jaw. The dagger barely slowed. Klein spun with the motion, stepping clear as the bodies fell.
'Four down.'
Paros purred, his tone almost indulgent. "Graceful, master. Truly beautiful."
The remaining goblins snarled, brandishing crude clubs. One charged recklessly, swinging wide. Klein ducked under the blow, driving his knee into its gut before slashing the dagger across its neck.
The creature collapsed, clutching the wound.
The next came roaring from the side. Klein sidestepped and slashed again—but this one deflected with its club, the wood splintering under the force. The impact jolted his arm, sending a sharp sting through his wrist.
He blinked. 'Stronger than the rest.'
"An elite," Paros noted. "Every litter has one. Think of it as a mid-boss."
The goblin roared, lunging again. Klein twisted aside, barely avoiding the crude blade. He darted backward, reassessing. His breath was steady but his body buzzed with energy, every nerve alive.
Whisperfang thrummed in his hand like a living thing.
'Alright,' Klein thought. 'Let's see how fast you really are.'
He surged forward.
The goblin swung—but Whisperfang was faster. The blade danced between its strikes, cutting shallow lines across its arms, chest, and face. Each movement left the goblin slower, sloppier.
It roared in frustration, swinging wildly.
Klein ducked low, then sprang up, driving the dagger into the creature's heart. Whisperfang sank in to the hilt, and the goblin shuddered once before collapsing.
Klein pulled the blade free, panting lightly.
Silence.
Only one goblin remained—the smallest, trembling near the cage. It dropped its weapon and squealed, backing away.
"Do it," Paros whispered. "No mercy. Fear spreads like plague."
Klein hesitated. The creature was barely half his size, shaking, its yellow eyes wide with terror.
'It's helpless,' he thought.
"Helpless," Paros said lightly, "but not harmless. Spare one, and it will breed ten. Weakness today is a knife tomorrow."
Klein's jaw tightened.
He stepped forward. The goblin tripped and fell, whimpering. Klein raised Whisperfang—and ended it quickly.
Silence fell again.
The only sound was the faint crackle of fire and his own breathing. The air was thick with the smell of blood and smoke.
"Efficient," Paros said softly. "You're improving."
Klein glanced at the cage. The villager stared at him with wide, frightened eyes.
'Relax,' Klein said quietly. 'I'm not one of them.'
The man nodded slowly, still trembling.
Klein cut the ropes binding the cage, letting the man crawl out.
"T-thank you," the villager stammered. "I—I thought I was dead."
Klein didn't answer. He turned away, scanning the trees again.
'They'll come,' he thought. 'The others. The two that escaped.'
"Correct," Paros replied. "You have time to prepare, but not much. I suggest setting a trap."
Klein smirked faintly. 'You really think I'd run?'
"Run? Never. But adapt? Always."
He crouched beside the fallen goblins, retrieving a few crude weapons and inspecting the ground. The forest floor was littered with loose soil and roots—perfect terrain.
Paros' voice took on a note of approval. "Clever. You plan to lure them back here."
'Exactly,' Klein said. 'They'll come for revenge. I'll give them something worth dying for.'
The forest wind shifted, carrying the faint sound of distant shrieks.
They were coming.
Klein gripped Whisperfang tightly, the blade thrumming in response. His eyes gleamed with calm focus, the earlier thrill now tempered into something sharper.
'Let them come,' he thought.
Paros chuckled darkly. "The boy becomes the hunter."
Klein's lips curved into a faint smile as the shadows deepened around him.
The real fight was only beginning.