The dead stumbled forward like broken puppets with stiff and chanical movents.
The Wolves with split skulls now had a thick line of black goo going over their heads. The splot open rodents were held together by globs of black flesh. The wounded Goblins had black eyes, and blacker blood going down their noses.
They all shuffled closer. Their eyes, glazed with darkness, stared without life.
Guttural sounds exited the undead Goblins’ mouths. They weren’t shouting or shrieking. It seed like they were in pain.
Faced with such a vision, all wanted to run away.
If it weren’t for the flas blocking their paths, they would have.
So of the Goblins preferred the flas to the dead and Corrupted Draconic Spawn. They imdiately decided that, if those standing in front of them fell, they would leap into the flas. It seed like a gamble rather than facing that.
"They’re healing continually." Syl clicked her tongue as she stepped back. The tip of her spear had just pierced an undead Goblin’s chest, yet the hole left behind was quickly filled by more black goo and flesh.
Hobgoblins and Goblins quickly noticed it. The corpses didn’t bleed properly. Every wound dripped only strings of tar. Every ti they were struck down, they twitched, spasd, and rose again.
"That’s it." Syl whispered as she noticed the undead Goblin’s movents. "They won’t heal forever!" She shouted. "Look! The more they heal, the slower and weaker they beco! They will fall soon!"
That information ignited a spark of enthusiasm that quickly faded. After all, the corpses weren’t the real problem here.
The Corrupted Draconic Spawn lifted its snout, nostrils twitching.
It turned away.
The clash was little more than a distraction. With the disturbances now occupied, it could focus on the real reason why it had left its cave and headed to the village.
***
’This is the perfect spot.’ Amon nodded.
He pulled the Black Stone from his pocket. It pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat of its own. Without hesitation, he tossed it into the flas of one of the collapsed huts. The fire swallowed it whole.
’It’s unlikely that a magical item like this will be damaged by simple flas.’
Amon dragged two Gray Wolf corpses by their hind legs and tossed them in the general direction where the Black Stone lay. Their charred fur and at imdiately started sizzling.
’I don’t know if an actual scent will confuse it,’ Amon muttered in thought as he looked away. ’But better than nothing.’
***
Back in the chaos, Goblins fell one after another. An undead Gray Wolf latched onto a Goblin’s throat, dragging him into the dirt. A deer, half its ribs exposed, skewered a Hobgoblin through the chest.
Still, the corrupted dead weakened. Each strike, each gush of tar slowed them. By the ti the black ooze had filled every cavity, their legs buckled. With groans like splitting wood, they toppled into heaps, their bodies too ruined to rise again.
’Too much healing, too much of that black flesh and goo... Leads to their body breaking down.’ Syl noticed.
Still, the toll was steep. Especially when these were just the inconsequential minions. The real enemy was further behind them.
The fifth Hobgoblin hit the ground. His throat had been pierced by a stealthy undead Horned Hare.
"Fuck! We’re losing too many-" Syl’s words were suddenly interrupted.
"RETREAT!"
All heads whipped to the sound.
The shout had co from behind, opposite the Corrupted Draconic Spawn.
"What...?"
A narrow gap had sohow opened through the flas. A path clear of fire.
The Goblins didn’t hesitate. They surged toward it, stumbling and shoving, so throwing down weapons just to run faster. Hobgoblins snapped orders, but even they darted for the forest, seizing their chance.
Syl froze, chest heaving. Her eyes flicked from the running Goblins to the lumbering Corrupted Draconic Spawn. It hadn’t moved.
’Why isn’t it stopping them...? Why isn’t it chasing?’
The confusion led to the only logical possibility. There was no way for Syl to assu that it had anything to do with the Black Stone now, as Ron and the Goblin Chief never made it out of the forest and into the village. Still, the Corrupted Draconic Spawn was looking for sothing.
"Co on!" A Hobgoblin shouted.
Seconds later, Syl, too, had run past the flas and into the forest. She turned towards the burning village.
Her eyes widened.
’The girl?’ The female Hobgoblin asked herself. ’Is that why it’s here?’
It seed like the only logical option.
’Our Chief, as well as the Goblin Chief...’ She clicked her tongue. ’We all know that the girl is special. I don’t know how exactly... but she is. That’s why the Goblin Chief agreed to this exchange. But why would that thing...?’ Syl shook her head.
The girl was special. The Corrupted Draconic Spawn was looking for sothing. That’s all that mattered.
’Fuck.’ She cursed internally, hand brushing the scabbard hanging from her waist where her knife used to be. ’Don’t tell that she... Now that the village is gone, now that she can finally-’
Syl’s eyes widened.
Sothing glinted in the firelight. She bent down and,
"What... Is it doing here?"
In her hand lay the key to the Fox girl’s cage.
"How did it get here?" She asked herself before gulping.
The Corrupted Draconic Spawn moved sluggishly between the burning huts, sniffing the air. Its body twitched, its gait crooked, as though pulled in several directions at once. The spreading flas were an incredible nuisance to it, but still it searched, its head jerking toward any whisper of Mana.
Syl’s jaw tightened.
"Fuck..." She whispered.
Her gaze lay on the remaining Hobgoblins, wounded and out of breath, then went back to the village, to the center of the village.
She spat, and cursed under her breath.
"Syl! What are you doing?!"
Before they could reach her, the female Hobgoblin was already running towards the burning village they had just escaped.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Syl cursed continually as she ran.
***
An invisible figure was standing at the very center of the battlefield. Dozens of corpses, so corrupted, so not, lay still.
Amon stretched one clawed hand out. His palm split into veiny tendrils of flesh that crept outward, latching onto a Hobgoblin corpse.
The tendrils started spreading. Soon, they covered the Hobgoblin’s entire body.
Then, they started spreading further, branching from corpse to corpse like roots sinking into soil. Each body softened, collapsed, and vanished into his Palm of the Devourer.
Were Syl watching, she might have mistaken it for the black goo, spreading once more to make the dead rise again. But it wasn’t..
Amon raised his gaze. Cloaked by his "Disappearance" Skill, he could stand in the open freely. His gaze followed Syl’s figure as she sprinted past him, her breath harsh, her spear clenched tight.
’She really is a nice girl,’ Amon thought, lips twitching into a half-smile.
’Did they fall because we ran away? Because there’s nothing left to fight?’ Syl asked herself, confused but glad that she didn’t have to fight her way through.
The snarls and screeches of the Corrupted Draconic Spawn echoed through the village.
Only four remained in the village. Syl, Amon, the Corrupted Draconic Spawn, and...
"What...?" The confused Syl muttered as she entered the Chief’s hut. "What... What the hell happened?"
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