Chapter 34: Into the Heart of Darkness

The morning air was thick with tension. As the sun barely rose over the horizon, the goblin warband prepared for their return to the ruins. No one spoke much, but the weight of what they were about to face hung over them like a storm cloud.

Leav adjusted the straps of his armor, his gaze fixed on the distant silhouette of the ancient structures. Yesterday's battle had been a warning. Whatever force was at work within the ruins had the power to twist and corrupt. If they did not uncover the truth, they might be next.

[Leav's POV]

"We move in formation," Leav commanded, his voice steady. "Stay close. Watch for anything unusual. We do not know what else lurks in the ruins."

Frot and Weal flanked him, their weapons ready. Trek, the shaman, had a troubled expression but nodded silently. Yorl, eager for battle as always, grinned.

As they approached the ruins, a strange chill ran through the air. It wasn't just the morning cold—this was something unnatural. The shadows within the crumbling walls seemed to shift, moving as if alive.

Leav slowed his steps. "Stay alert."

They crossed the threshold of the ruins, the scent of damp stone and decay filling their nostrils. The ground was uneven, scattered with broken pillars and rubble. Faint carvings lined the walls—ancient symbols of a forgotten civilization.

Then, the whispers began.

Soft. Almost unintelligible.

But they were there.

Leav exchanged glances with Trek, who furrowed his brow. "The spirits are restless."

"We keep moving," Leav said, gripping his sword tighter.

They advanced deeper into the ruins, their footsteps echoing. The air grew heavier with each step, as if something unseen was watching them.

Then—

A guttural snarl.

From the shadows, a figure lunged.

[Frot's POV]

Frot barely had time to react before a hulking form burst from the darkness. It was a goblin—or at least, it had been. Its body was stretched and grotesque, muscles bulging unnaturally beneath its gray skin. Its eyes burned with an eerie, violet glow.

Frot swung his axe instinctively. The blade connected, but instead of cutting deep, the creature barely staggered.

"Damned thing's tough!" he growled.

Yorl roared, charging in with his club. He struck the creature's ribs with a sickening crunch, but it still didn't fall. Instead, it let out a twisted, inhuman shriek.

More sounds came from the darkness. More figures moving.

"We have company," Weal hissed, knocking an arrow.

The battle had begun.

[Leav's POV]

Leav took in the battlefield quickly. There were at least five of them—corrupted goblins, their bodies warped by whatever dark force had taken hold.

"Hold formation!" he barked. "Take them down together!"

Frot and Yorl engaged the nearest one, hacking and smashing with brutal efficiency. Weal's arrows found their marks, striking the creatures' eyes and throats, but even fatal shots didn't drop them immediately.

Trek raised his staff, chanting. A faint pulse of energy radiated outward, momentarily slowing the creatures.

Leav stepped forward, his sword flashing. His blade cut deep into one of the corrupted, severing its arm, but the creature barely reacted.

It was like fighting something that had forgotten how to die.

Then he saw it—the faint violet glow pulsing at the base of the creature's neck.

"The core!" he realized. "Aim for the glowing spot!"

Weal adjusted his aim and fired. The arrow struck true, piercing the creature's neck. Instantly, it convulsed before collapsing to the ground.

That was the weakness.

Leav gritted his teeth. "Focus on the cores!"

[Trek's POV]

Trek's fingers trembled around his staff. He had felt this kind of energy before—deep, forbidden magic.

The corruption wasn't just changing these goblins—it was controlling them.

He muttered a low chant, pushing his senses outward. The ruins pulsed with unseen power. Something deeper within was the source of this corruption.

The battle raged around him. Yorl and Frot fought like cornered beasts, their strikes more brutal with each second. Weal's arrows picked off enemies with precision. And Leav—Leav moved with a calm efficiency, his orders keeping them together.

They were winning.

But Trek knew this was only the beginning.

His eyes drifted to a passage leading deeper into the ruins. The whispers were louder there.

Something was calling them forward.

And it wasn't friendly.