Chapter 14: Community

Adam pulled his Common Knife out of the twitching corpse of a goblin, letting the body collapse into the pool of its own blood with a wet thud.

The stench of iron and decay hung thick in the air, but Adam barely noticed.

His focus was elsewhere, on the crude settlement surrounding him.

He had found it during his hunt for more goblins, it was a cluster of huts surrounded by a rough fence of sticks, leaves, and twisted vines.

The whole place looked like a mockery of civilization and it made his skin crawl.

They’re trying to live like people.

Creatures that shouldn’t even exist—trying to build communities?

The idea alone disgusted him, digging deep into his bones until rage simmered through his veins.

He felt it in every breath and heartbeat. Monsters pretending to have order.

Monsters acting alive.

He intended to fix that the only way he knew how.

with a massacre.

Dozens of unranked level 1 goblins, both elites and mob-units, crowded around him, their yellow eyes glinting beneath the dim rift sun.

They hissed and growled, clutching crude weapons made of wood, but none dared to move first.

Their instincts screamed danger; the blood coating Adam wasn’t just from one of them, it was from many.

Adam stood motionless, eyes cold and unblinking, the edge of his knife catching the faintest glimmer of light.

Then, without warning, he moved first.

His figure blurred, darting forward as his knife flashed in a sharp, perfect arc.

The largest elite goblin didn’t even have time to react before its head was separated from its shoulders.

The rest of its body stood for a heartbeat longer before collapsing to the ground.

The horde screamed, fury and fear blending into chaos.

Adam didn’t wait.

He dove straight into them.

There was no hesitation in his steps neither was their mercy in his movements.

Each strike was cold and precise, throats slit, hearts pierced, skulls crushed.

His expression never changed.

His Rapid (E) talent turned him into a blur of motion, each movement flowing seamlessly into the next, while his Poison (F) talent made every kill agonizing for the mob unit.

The goblins swarmed him in waves, but none could land a hit.

Every time one lunged, its attack ended in a spray of blood.

Every time one roared, its roar turned into a gurgle.

The sound of killing echoed through the settlement like a grisly rhythm.

By the time Adam stopped, the golden grass had turned dark and slick with blood, and all the male goblins were dead.

Adam exhaled softly, his blade dripping.

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the faint rustle of the rift’s wind.

Then, he activated [Connect].

The world shifted instantly.

His vision blurred before sharpening again, and the dull world of flesh and blood gave way to one of glowing light.

Threads of essence wove through the air, forming interconnected nodes and soul flames, the life signatures of the remaining goblins still hiding in the largest wooden hut.

His emerald eyes glimmered faintly under the rift’s strange sunlight as he tightened his grip on the knife.

The blade caught the light, flashing briefly, a single glint that heralded more blood to come.

Without a word, Adam stepped forward and entered the hut.

****

Adam stepped into the hut and stopped dead.

The sight was worse than he’d imagined: a single, terrible tableau.

Dozens of goblins, females and children were hunched over the limp bodies of two women, tearing at flesh with greedy, slavering mouths.

The victims twitched faintly; the brain was gone, but reflexes from a still-intact spinal cord made their limbs jerk in pain.

The air reeked of blood and rot.

But the goblins were so absorbed in their feast they didn’t notice the predator who had gutted their fathers and brothers, now stood at the doorway.

Adam watched them for a long breath, expression unreadable.

The scene confirmed what he already believed: monsters would always be monsters, no matter what flimsy trappings of community they tried to build.

The rift fed them when human prey was scarce; they fed the rift back through reproduction and slaughter.

That was the cruel calculus of the place.

A small, malformed sound made him look down.

One of the child goblins, a newborn with unsteady legs, had staggered away from the carcasses and fixed its yellow eyes on him. Its underdeveloped mind registered only one thing: more food.

It wobbled forward, seeking balance by clambering against Adam’s calf.

Its blood covered mouth opened, rows of tiny teeth bared, and it bit down, its fangs tearing into Adam’s leg.

Adam didn’t flinch.

He didn’t even twist.

The poison stung, then fizzed uselessly against him, Poison F rendered him immune to the creature’s weak Poison G.

Pain surged through the wound, but he had learned to drink pain like fuel; it sharpened his resolve instead of breaking him.

In the next moment his knife moved.

One clean arc, practiced and merciless, and the brat’s neck separated with a dull, final thud.

The head struck the floor and the body crumpled afterwards.

The hut went silent for half a heartbeat, then shrieks erupted as the adult goblins looked up finally noticing him, with horror and rage flaring in one frantic motion.

Adam didn’t hesitate.

He moved through them like winter through leaves: swift and unrelenting.

Throats opened, skulls cracked, limbs were cut away where they reached.

He struck for speed and finality, there was no theatrics, only cold efficiency.

The females who had been feeding barely had time to register the blade before their screams were choked off.

The children who reached for him were stopped the same way; he spared none.

When it was over, the hut was a ruin of bodies and blood.

Adam stood in the center of it, breathing steady, his common knife slick with green blood and the pack at his shoulder heavier with granulites and whatever organs he’d bothered to take.

He did not look for pity in the silence.

He had removed a rot from the world, and the thought sat within him like a stone warmed by flame.

****

Adam flicked the Common Knife, letting the last arc of green blood scatter across the cold floor before sliding the blade back into its strap at his waist.

He didn’t linger on the sound of it before turning to the two female corpses splayed on the ground.

Normally male and female goblins separated after mating; they didn’t build families, didn’t pretend at settlements.

But this mockery of a community had changed that, and the consequence was a ruinous one: humans turned into trophies, feasts, and refuse.

The sight made something hard and bitter settle in Adam’s chest.

“Male goblins love male meat,” he muttered under his breath. “But to their females and children, meat is all the same.”

He shook his head once, annoyed at how small the thought felt against the magnitude of the situation.

In the next moment, Adams’s gaze returned to the two female corpses; as a darker, quieter curiosity slid in behind his anger.

“Can I equip their talents?”

****

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