Chapter 14: The Last One
The last hobgoblin, breathing heavily and gripping his axes tight, approached the tent Dylan had taken over. He wasn't dumb—not like the others. He knew a trap was waiting inside. He could feel it in his gut.
So he stopped, right before the entrance, muscles taut like a bowstring about to snap. His bloodshot eyes locked onto the flap. No more fear. Just hate. Raw, unfiltered, almost animalistic hatred.
He held his three axes like extensions of his body. Ready to throw them the moment that cursed shadow made a move. He wasn't going to walk into the monster's jaws. No. He was going to drag it out. And tear it to pieces.
Inside the tent, hidden in the shadows, Dylan watched. Motionless. His icy gaze scanned every micro-movement of his enemy. This one... he hadn't run. He hadn't collapsed in fear. He was here, heart pounding, ready to fight.
A slight smirk curved Dylan's lips.
Finally, one who resists.
He stepped back into the darkness, feet silent on the packed earth. This hobgoblin wouldn't die like the others. Not quietly. Not like a sleeper or a pathetic brute.
This one deserved it. A face-off. A final duel. A clean execution.
But outside, a storm of blades was brewing. Three axes. Three chances to kill.