Once Rain had walked far enough, the burned remains of the goblin fortress entrance came into view. Charred wood and collapsed stone marked where the gate had once stood—and surrounding it were goblins.

  Rain immediately ducked behind a thick tree trunk, peering out carefully.

  He counted them once. Then again.

  Twenty-four.

  So Roxy must have burned at least ten of them.

  The goblins were scattered around the ruins in disarray. Some stood with weapons drawn, tense and restless. Others looked completely lost, staring at the destruction as if they couldn’t comprehend what had happened. A few spoke among themselves in guttural, broken sounds, their voices low and sharp—but Rain was too far away to make out any words.

  He was at least thirty feet from them.

  Night had already settled in, the forest dim and cold. A faint chill clung to the air, and the darkness made it harder to clearly see their expressions or movements. Still, Rain didn’t need to see clearly to understand what he was looking at.

  This was chaos.

  And chaos was opportunity.

  Most of the goblins were unarmed. Even those holding weapons didn’t look ready—they looked confused. Distracted. Shaken.

  If Rain played this right, he could thin them out before they ever realized what was happening.

  He studied their formation carefully.

  Several goblins stood clustered together, usually in groups of three or four, packed close as if seeking comfort in numbers. Others lingered farther away—some alone, some paired off, standing just far enough to be isolated.

  Rain’s grip tightened around his sword.

  If he moved quietly… if he chose his targets carefully… He could kill at least half of them before they even had time to react.

  Luckily, Rain wasn’t as overwhelmingly hungry for blood as he had been earlier.

  It seemed that whenever he was injured, the hunger intensified. The more blood he lost, the stronger the craving became—almost as if his body demanded blood in return. That was only his hypothesis, though. He had no real proof. Just a growing suspicion.

  After drinking the health potion, the hunger had eased.

  It wasn’t gone completely. It still lingered beneath the surface, quiet but present. But it was no longer screaming inside his mind. No longer forcing the same word to repeat over and over.

  Blood.

  Now, at least, he could think clearly.

  Rain kept his eyes on the goblins and checked the timer again.

  Thirty minutes left.

  He had already made his decision. He would wait ten full minutes before attacking.

  To some, that might seem foolish, but Rain saw it differently. Charging into a fight against more than twenty goblins without thinking was suicide.

  Before, he hadn’t had much control over himself. Whenever he was injured, the bloodlust took over and drowned out reason. He acted on instinct instead of thought.

  Now that he had drunk the health potion, his mind felt clearer.

  And with that clarity came fear.

  Uncertainty crept in quietly. What if he failed? What if he couldn’t kill the remaining goblins in time?

  At moments like this, it felt like the entire weight of the situation rested on him. If the timer ran out and people died, it wouldn’t feel like the Tower’s fault.

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  It would feel like his.

  So Rain waited.

  He kept watching the forest behind the goblins, hoping someone would emerge from the darkness to help.

  ‘Where are they?’

  The survivors had split into groups of three earlier. Were they hiding somewhere? Too afraid to move?

  ‘Cowards.’

  The word surfaced in his mind, but it didn’t feel right.

  Rain remembered the speech he gave when they first encountered the goblins. He had said something like, If we don’t kill them, we die. But if we do, we survive.

  At the time, he thought it sounded strong. Motivational.

  Now it sounded naive.

  Rain wasn’t a leader. Acting like one might have been what led them into this mess in the first place.

  ‘Maybe someone else should have taken charge.’

  Five minutes passed.

  Seven.

  Eight.

  Rain steadied his breathing and forced his thoughts to settle. Doubt wouldn’t help him now.

  Even after several minutes, no one appeared from the forest. Not a single group came forward.

  The goblins, however, had barely moved, remaining scattered near the ruined entrance while staring at the burned remains of their fortress as if they were trying to understand what had just happened.

  They looked confused and lost, almost as though they didn’t know what to do next.

  Rain tightened his grip around his sword as the weight of the situation settled back onto him.

  Ten minutes had passed, and no one was coming.

  Stepping out from behind the tree, Rain began walking toward the goblins, though he didn’t approach them directly; instead, he angled slightly to the right, focusing on two goblins that stood farther away from the others, roughly twelve feet from the nearest cluster.

  He moved carefully, using his surroundings as cover and slipping behind small trees and patches of brush to conceal his approach, even though the goblins were facing the opposite direction and didn’t seem aware of anything beyond the ruined fortress in front of them.

  Honestly, it felt as if he could have walked straight through the open without hiding at all and they still wouldn’t have noticed, especially after the traumatic destruction of their stronghold.

  As he closed the distance, Rain stopped behind a small bush, now only five feet away from the two isolated goblins.

  One of them was completely weaponless and stood motionless, staring blankly at the remains of the fortress as if frozen in place, having barely moved for over ten minutes.

  The second goblin stood almost back-to-back with the first and held a crude weapon that resembled a spear, though it wasn’t in any sort of fighting stance, and the weapon’s tip rested loosely toward the ground.

  There was no alertness in its posture, no tension in its grip—only stillness.

  Rain inhaled slowly before stepping out from behind the bush and immediately breaking into a sprint toward the unarmed goblin, gripping his sword tightly with both hands as he closed the short distance between them.

  Even as he rushed forward, neither goblin reacted; there was no sudden turn of the head, no defensive movement, not even the slightest twitch to suggest they sensed him.

  Rain raised his sword and brought it down in a decisive arc across the first goblin’s neck.

  Blood burst outward from the wound, spraying several feet into the air, and for the briefest moment Rain’s eyes followed the spray before he forced himself back into focus.

  The health potion had steadied his mind, and he refused to let the sight of blood distract him again.

  The goblin slowly turned toward him, not with rage or fear but with pure confusion, its eyes dropping to the blood pouring from its neck as if it couldn’t understand what was happening.

  Its knees buckled beneath it, and it collapsed to the ground, clutching at the wound in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding, though within seconds the strength left its body and it fell completely still, twitching faintly before going silent.

  Rain pulled his blade free and shifted his attention to the second goblin.

  It was strange—despite holding a weapon and likely knowing how to use it, the goblin made no attempt to attack or defend itself, instead staring at Rain with that same distant, confused expression.

  There was no hatred in its eyes, no fighting spirit—only something that almost resembled defeat.

  For a fleeting moment, Rain wondered if the goblin wanted to die, as if the destruction of the fortress had stripped away whatever purpose it once had.

  Rain’s hands trembled slightly, blood from the first goblin still warm across his fingers and palms.

  But that wasn’t why they were shaking.

  For a brief, unwelcome moment, a thought crossed his mind.

  Why do they look like they want to die?

  Had they truly lost their purpose? Or was it something smaller—something he couldn’t understand?

  Rain felt a tightness in his chest.

  He couldn’t believe it.

  He actually felt slightly bad for them.

  And that disgusted him.

  At the end of the day, these creatures were monsters—capable of cruelty, torture, and slaughter without hesitation—and whatever emptiness they felt now did not erase what they were.

  Rain stepped forward once more and raised his sword, bringing the blade toward the goblin’s throat.

  He stopped.

  The edge hovered inches from its skin.

  He took a slow breath.

  What the hell am I doing?

  He felt like an idiot, hesitating for something that wouldn’t hesitate to kill him if their positions were reversed.

  The goblin simply stared at him, offering no resistance.

  Rain’s jaw tightened.

  Instead of the throat, he shifted his aim downward, aligning the blade with the goblin’s chest—its heart.

  In one steady motion, he drove the sword forward, the steel piercing through flesh and bone before lodging deep inside.

  The goblin went limp almost instantly, its body collapsing against the blade before sliding to the ground.

  Rain pulled the sword free in a sharp motion.

  For a second, he almost laughed at himself.

  He had actually taken extra time just to make the death less painful.

  He exhaled slowly, steadying himself.

  Then he retreated, slipping back behind a bush, knowing that standing too long in the scent and sight of so much blood might awaken the hunger inside him again.

  And that was something he could not afford right now.