Dragon King: Throne of Demons and Gods-Chapter 29: Descent into Darkness

Earlier, small party of adventurers moved cautiously through the dense underbrush, their footsteps muffled by the damp forest floor.

They were young, barely past their initial training, and this was their first real quest as a team.

Despite their inexperience, they carried an air of excitement and nervous energy.

At the front was Renn, their self-appointed leader, a young swordsman with a reckless grin and far too much confidence.

His short brown hair was messy from the journey, but he held his sword like he had already won every battle ahead of him.

"Alright! This is it. Our first real hunt!" Renn declared, swinging his sword in an exaggerated arc. "A pack of goblins? Pfft. We'll be rolling in coin by the end of this!"

"Don't jinx it," muttered Ilya, the archer, walking beside him. She was calm and composed elf with short green hair, bow slung over her shoulder. Unlike Renn, she wasn't one to underestimate an enemy.

Behind them, Taron, their tank, moved with steady steps. He was a large boy, broad-shouldered, and carried a thick wooden shield reinforced with metal plating. His heavy armor clinked softly with each step.

"We stick to the plan, Renn. Don't rush ahead."

"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Renn waved him off.

"B-But are we sure we're ready for this?" came a timid voice.

Lena, the priest of the group, clutched her staff tightly as she walked behind the others. Her brown eyes flickered nervously at every shadow. She was the smallest of the four, her white robes nearly too big for her.

"I read that goblins are dangerous, even for experienced adventurers... If we make a mistake..."

"If we make a mistake, we learn from it," Renn cut in, grinning at her. "That's how adventurers get strong."

Taron sighed.

"A strong adventurer could kill a thousand goblins; that's our goal. Ilya, back me up here."

Ilya shrugged.

"As long as we don't do anything stupid, we should be fine."

Lena didn't look convinced, but she nodded, gripping her staff a little tighter.

They continued their march until the trees thinned out, revealing a cave entrance nestled at the foot of a rocky hill. A damp, foul stench wafted from the dark maw, sending a chill down Lena's spine.

"Ugh," Ilya muttered, covering her nose. "Smells like something died in there."

"Probably did," Taron said, stepping forward and raising his shield. "Goblins aren't clean creatures. If they've been raiding the village, this is likely their den."

Renn grinned, stepping ahead of them.

"Then let's go make history."

Lena hesitated.

"W-We should be careful... Goblins work together. They set traps, ambush in the dark... We shouldn't take them lightly."

"Relax," Renn said. "We've got weapons, armor, and a healer. What's the worst that could happen?"

With that, he stepped into the cave, forcing the others to follow.

Inside, the air was thick with dampness. Water dripped from the ceiling, the sound echoing through the stone chamber. The passage ahead was narrow, the ground uneven with loose rocks.

"Stay close," Taron warned, gripping his shield. "And watch for traps."

The deeper they went, the more the tension in the group grew. The flickering glow of their torches cast long shadows along the cave walls, making even harmless formations of rock look like lurking figures.

A sudden noise made them all freeze. A faint crunch echoed through the tunnel, followed by a light skittering. Ilya turned her torch in the direction of the sound, revealing a cracked skull resting near the wall.

For a brief moment, nothing moved, then, from the darkness, a rat scurried past, its tiny claws clicking against the stone as it disappeared into the shadows.

Lena swallowed hard, gripping her staff tighter. Every shift in the darkness, every faint drip of water made her flinch.

The cave felt alive, as if something was waiting just beyond the reach of their torchlight.

Then, they felt it.

The smell hit them first, thick, putrid, and suffocating, like flesh left to rot in stagnant water. It clung to their throats, making Lena gag as she covered her mouth.

A sickening, wet noise echoed through the cavern. The group turned toward the sound, stepping forward cautiously, their torchlight flickering against the damp stone walls.

Then... the nightmare.

The corpse of a person lay crumpled against the cave floor, their limbs twisted unnaturally, their eyes hollow and sunken, frozen in an expression of pure agony.

Deep, jagged wounds covered their body, their skin torn open as if something had feasted upon them. Dried blood smeared the ground beneath them, painting a grotesque picture of suffering.

Lena let out a small, choked noise, stumbling back. Even Renn, always brash, hesitated, gripping his sword tighter. The cave had been quiet before, but now, the silence felt oppressive, like something was holding its breath, watching them.

A faint noise rustled in the dark, followed by the wet squelch of something shifting nearby.

Their torchlight finally revealed the culprit.

A single goblin was hunched over a pile of bones, its jagged teeth gnawing at what remained of another carcass. The light flickered across its slimy green skin, highlighting its sharp claws as it tore at the flesh.

Its yellow eyes gleamed in the firelight, its lips curled into something that wasn't quite a snarl, nor a grin.

Renn's eyes gleamed.

"Damn... There's one!"

"Wait..." Lena started, but Renn had already moved.

He surged forward, sword flashing, his boots crunching against loose pebbles. The goblin's pointed ears twitched, its yellow eyes snapping toward them. It let out a sharp screech, dropping the bone as it scrambled to stand.

Too late.

Renn's blade carved through its chest, a sickening crunch echoing through the tunnel. The goblin collapsed with a choked gurgle, purple blood pooling beneath it.

Ilya let out a slow breath, scanning the dark passage ahead.

"At least wait for us next time."

"Wait? What if he had run away?" Renn said, flicking the blood off his blade.

Lena wasn't convinced. Her grip on her staff tightened, her heart hammering against her ribs. One goblin was never alone. Never.

Then it came, a sound just beyond their flickering torchlight. A low, whispering rustle, like something shifting against the stone.

She stiffened, her breath catching in her throat. She wasn't the only one who noticed. Taron shifted his stance, raising his shield instinctively, while Ilya turned her bow toward the darkness.

Another sound. A wet squelch. Something... shifting.

The rustling grew louder. Not from one place, but all around them.

A shiver ran down Lena's spine as her grip tightened on her staff. The others heard it too. Taron adjusted his shield, Ilya readied an arrow, and Renn took a half-step forward, sword raised.

Then the silence shattered.

A shrill screech echoed from deep within the cave. It was high-pitched, unnatural, a signal.

And the darkness answered.

Shadows burst from the crevices, from unseen tunnels, from above and behind. Goblins poured in, their eyes glowing yellow, jagged teeth flashing in wicked grins. Small, wretched creatures, but too many. Too many.

"Taron!" Renn's voice was sharp, but before anyone could react, the first wave hit.

A goblin lunged at Renn's side. He turned, cutting it down in a single swing, but another darted in, slashing at his thigh. He yelped in pain, sharp and deep. He gritted his teeth, kicking the creature back, but more replaced it.

"They're everywhere!"

Ilya's voice was tight as she loosed an arrow, impaling a goblin through the eye. Another arrow followed, but before she could draw a third, a hand latched onto her ankle.

She gasped, stumbling, kicking wildly to free herself. More hands grabbed her, clawing, pulling. Her bow was yanked from her grip.

She twisted, barely dodging a dagger aimed at her throat. The realization hit her: there were too many. Too fast.

Taron slammed his shield into a goblin, sending it sprawling, then turned to block another. A jagged blade scraped against his armor, deflected just in time.

Another goblin leapt at him, clawing at his face. He roared, grabbing the creature and crushing its skull against the stone wall. Blood splattered, but it didn't stop. More goblins crawled over the fallen, climbing, swarming, drowning him in numbers.

"Lena! Heal!" Renn's voice was desperate now, but Lena stood frozen, her breath shallow.

This wasn't a group of goblins. This was an ocean.

A goblin shrieked and lunged at her. She barely raised her staff in time, striking it across the face, but another grabbed her wrist, twisting it. She screamed, falling backward.

"Lena!" Ilya's voice was filled with panic.

She struggled, trying to reach for her, but she was already being dragged down. A goblin yanked her hair, another clawed at her back, tearing fabric, scraping skin.

Renn's sword cleaved through another goblin, his body slick with blood, some his, some not. His breaths were ragged, arms heavy. But he couldn't stop. He wouldn't stop.

"Come on, you little shits! I'll kill every last...!"

A club slammed into his side. The force knocked the air from his lungs. He staggered, barely managing to keep his grip on his sword.

Another goblin pounced onto his back, claws digging into his shoulder, and then another. And another.

He twisted, trying to shake them off, but more hands grabbed at him, pulling, tearing. A dagger sliced into his thigh. His balance wavered. The weight was too much. He fell to one knee.

"You... Fuck! Get off me!" His voice cracked with desperation.

A shriek of laughter rang in his ears. Clawed fingers pried at his armor, tearing away pieces, exposing flesh. Pain exploded in his side as a rusted blade plunged into his stomach. His breath hitched. He choked, the taste of iron flooding his mouth.

Argh!!!... No... this isn't...

He tried to push back, to rise, to swing. His fingers barely curled around the hilt before a goblin yanked it from his grasp, tossing it aside with a wicked giggle.

"I'm not dying here! I...!"

A jagged club smashed into his face. His vision flashed white, his head snapping back. He hit the ground hard. He tried to move, to crawl, to do something, but the goblins swarmed him, their grotesque faces sneering down at him, their teeth bared.

The killing was over, and the game had begun.

His limbs burned as they were pulled in different directions. Something heavy crushed his ribs. Clawed fingers tore at his skin. His body jerked involuntarily in pain, again and again. The warmth of his own blood pooled beneath him.

He could hear Ilya screaming.

He tried to turn his head, to look at her one last time. But all he saw were goblins, grinning, leering, as the darkness crept in.

I... I don't want... I can't... not like this...

But the world had already gone black.

Ilya's breath came in ragged gasps, her heart hammering against her ribs.

Her body ached, bruised and battered from being tossed around like a broken doll. The cavern floor was cold beneath her, jagged stones pressing into her skin.

Blood trickled down her temple, blurring her vision, but she could still see them, dozens of glowing, wicked yellow eyes staring at her with cruel delight.

Laughter echoed, sharp claws tearing at her clothes, rending fabric like paper. Her pristine archer's tunic lay in tatters, her boots yanked from her feet.

She kicked wildly, her knee smashing into a goblin's jaw, sending it reeling back with a sharp yelp.

For a moment, hope sparked in her chest. She still had fight left in her. She could...

A jagged rock struck her stomach, knocking the air from her lungs.

She doubled over, choking, gasping, trying to roll away. But before she could move, they pounced.

Hands grabbed her wrists, yanking them above her head. Others wrenched her legs apart, forcing her down against the stone. She twisted, thrashed, every muscle in her body screaming to break free.

But there were too many. Their grip was iron, their claws biting into her skin, pressing against bruises, reopening wounds.

This wasn't just a loss, nor a failure. This was humiliation.

She had trained for this. She was supposed to be better than this. But here she was, trapped, helpless, surrounded by the filth beneath her.

A sob clawed its way up her throat, but she swallowed it down.

No. No, she wouldn't give them the satisfaction. She wouldn't break.

In desperation, she turned her head, searching for Lena, pleading silently for her to do something, anything.

Their eyes met, and her stomach turned to ice.

Lena wasn't moving.

Not running. Not fighting.

Just standing there, frozen, her hands trembling over her staff, her face pale with unfiltered terror.

Ilya's breath hitched.

She understood.

Lena wasn't going to save her.

There was no saving her.

Her struggles turned frantic, desperate, but the laughter only grew, cruel and mocking, pressing behind her.

A fresh wave of pain shot through her, making her back arch involuntarily, her mind shattering under the horror of what was happening.

A final scream tore from her throat, raw, shaking the walls of the cave.

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Lena's own cry followed, a desperate, horrified sound that echoed into the night.

Their voices carried past the battle, past the suffocating darkness, reaching the mouth of the cave where a lone figure stood.

Bel.