Chapter 22: Goblin Slayer!
"Kikiikuu."
Gorthak’s deep chuckle echoed through the cavern like a curse on the wind. His eyes gleamed with malevolent amusement as he watched the young human cub rise shakily to his feet.
"If you can defeat my minions, perhaps... just perhaps, I’ll consider letting you live," the shaman jeered mockingly, lips twisting into a cruel smile.
Astrael’s breath came in ragged gasps as he pushed himself upright, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his blade. The cold cavern air bit at his exposed skin, but he barely felt it anymore. What surrounded him now wasn’t just goblins—it was death. Dozens of snarling figures closed in from all directions. He was completely surrounded.
Worse, there was no room for plans or clever tricks anymore.
Every thought he had. Every flicker of an idea. The shaman could feel it—read it. It was like being trapped inside a nightmare where every move you made was already known, already countered.
He didn’t stand a chance.
And yet, somehow, he was still standing.
At just five years old, Astrael was holding a blade, facing down a monster horde and standing toe-to-toe with a goblin shaman. That fact alone was nothing short of a miracle. A child who should have been reading books, laughing with friends, clinging to his mother’s side—here he was, bloodstained and battle-worn, standing in the belly of hell.
He had already escaped a past no child should ever endure, finally receiving the love he had always yearned for. And yet now, as if mocking his dreams, the world had cast him into this cursed dungeon. Surrounded by monsters. Fighting for survival.
As if the god was playing him like a toy. Giving hope only to be destroyed.