The mouth of Blackthorn Caverns yawned before them like a wound in the earth. The jagged stone teeth of the entrance glistened with damp, and the torches planted by goblin hands sputtered weakly, their flas coughing smoke into the night air.
Xavier paused at the threshold. He inhaled deeply, the stench of rot and smoke filling his lungs. His instincts sharpened—every nerve alive, every sense stretched taut. Aria stood beside him, her silver hair catching the torchlight, her eyes narrowed. Neither spoke. Words would only break the silence that pressed against them like a weight.
"This place slls horrible," Xavier muttered, as the group entered the caverns. The sll was really bad, pungent even, a vile mixture of sli, goblin odour, and dog feces. It was truly revolting. Xavier felt like throwing up, but he kept it under control and made sure there was no emotion on his stoic face.
"You aren’t wrong about that." Ezra agreed, as he whacked a slimy rope that was in his path. "Goblins’ sll is a high nuisance for adventurers, it’s also a way of disorientating us without us knowing."
Aria, on the other hand, was walking in sync with Lyra, with the latter trying to converse with Aria but was t with pure silence. Nevertheless, Lyra continued to pester her, ignoring the visible refusal on Aria’s face.
The cavern’s walls closed around them, slick with moisture, jagged with protruding rock. Water dripped steadily from the ceiling, each drop echoing like a heartbeat. The air was colder here, heavy with the musk of goblin smoke, sweat, and blood.
Their footsteps were deliberate and slow. Xavier’s hands brushed against the wall, feeling the grooves carved by crude tools. Goblins’ scars marked the walls---symbols of death, dominance, and war.
Xavier walked forward for a little while, then he stopped. What he saw made him barely throw up. It was worse than the sll. It was worse than anything he had ever seen. He felt Ezra lurch back before turning to vomit in a corner, unable to see more of the horror before him.
Lyra was just staring at it, eyes wide, her mouth agape in disgust. Aria was a bit better, but Xavier could see the way her mouth slightly twisted in disgust and nausea.
Now, what made Xavier have a sense of slight deja vu? Hanging from a crude rope, its legs spread apart, both hands strapped and tied together, was the body of a woman.
She was blonde, her skin was once smooth but now it was covered in bruises and dirt. She was stark naked. Both of her nipples had been cut, the sagging breasts hanging like wet dough, or it couldn’t even be called a breast again. Dried blood was visibly seen on the stumps of the breasts.
Her eyes were still open but it was clear they were lifeless. Her face wasn’t a mask of fear. It was a mask of pleasure, clearly seen on her face and Xavier knew that she had been sexually assaulted.
Her buttcheeks were blood red, clearly different from every part of her body. Her private parts were...ruined. It was a truly repulsive sight.
Ezra was still vomiting, unable to stomach the horror picture he was witnessing. Xavier walked forward until he was face-to-face with the corpse.
"Goblins did this to her," Xavier spoke, his voice grim. "I should have known."
"What?" Lyra whispered. "But they’re goblins."
"Goblins plunder villages and small towns. Fleas are crude, nasty, disgusting creatures, and they also love to breed. And the best choice for that is....." He pointed to the corpse.
"Two weeks later," Xavier continued. "The goblins that assaulted her, their seeds, which are inside her, will erge. She’s basically their birth point. They literally laid their seeds inside her corpse, knowing very well that they would be born. That’s how they continue the cycle."
Xavier moved forward, then touched her neck. "She’s still warm. That ans she was killed not too long ago. And I bet, there are more of her in this cavern. Hopefully, not dead."
Xavier had read about this when he was still in the other world. He had also watched so.....’ videos’ on this. But now he was seeing it in real action and it truly disgusted him.
He began to move. "Let’s go."
Lyra snapped at him. "Are you crazy. Are you just gonna leave her...here?"
Xavier stopped but he never turned. "It doesn’t concern ." He spoke, as natter of fact. "She’s dead and nothing will bring her back."
"She deserves a burial," Lyra shouted. "She’s a human being!"
"And as I said," Xavier replied. "I don’t care. I only care about myself and Aria. That’s all. I also think you should be worrying about yourself. "
Lyra flinched at the last statent. "What do you an?"
"I heard goblins love blonde won," Xavier remarked. "If they get hold of you, just say bye-bye. I’m not going to save you."
Lyra decided not to say another word, nodding in acceptance.
Deeper they went. The tunnel widened, then narrowed again, twisting like a serpent. The sound of goblins grew clearer—guttural voices, harsh laughter, the clatter of crude weapons. The echoes carried strangely, bouncing off stone, making it impossible to tell how far away they were.
Xavier slowed, his eyes narrowing. He raised a hand, signaling the others to stop. They listened.
A chant. Low, rhythmic, guttural. Goblin shamans. The sound of drums followed, crude skins beaten with bone clubs. The rhythm was primal, ant to stir frenzy, ant to prepare for war.
Aria’s lips tightened.
"They’re gathering."
Xavier’s jaw clenched.
"Good. Let them."
The air grew thicker, fouler. The walls widened into a chamber, its ceiling lost in shadow. The floor was littered with bones—human, animal, goblin alike. So were gnawed, others sharpened into weapons. Fires burned in crude pits, their smoke curling upward, staining the stone black.
Xavier’s boots crunched against the bones. He did not flinch. Aria’s gaze swept the chamber, her hand brushing her weapon. The silence here was heavier, broken only by the faint hiss of fire and the distant chant.
They were close.
The cavern seed alive. Shadows shifted, whispers carried, unseen eyes watched. Xavier felt them—hundreds of goblins, restless, waiting. Sowhere deeper, the warlord stirred, his roar ready to rally the horde.
Xavier’s instincts sharpened further. Every sound, every flicker of torchlight, every breath of foul air was a warning. He felt the weight of the quest pressing against him, the danger looming like a storm.
The tunnel ahead glowed faintly with firelight. The chanting grew louder, the drums heavier, the voices rising in frenzy. The goblins were waiting. The warlord was near.
Xavier adjusted his cloak, his daggers gleaming faintly in the firelight. Aria’s aura sharpened, her silver eyes unyielding. Together, they stepped forward, deeper into the cavern, toward the heart of the nest.
The silence of the forest was gone. The world had narrowed to this—stone, shadow, and the promise of battle.
And so, slowly, deliberately, Xavier and the others crossed into the goblin nest.
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