The trees of Feyroot groaned as goblin feet passed beneath them—silent, fast, deliberate.
Moonlight split through the canopy, shining down on twenty armed shapes crawling from the bones of the Hollow. Their eyes glowed faintly—green and hateful. Their blades were jagged, rusted, blooded.
At the front walked Reed and Shia.
Reed wore no armor, only strips of leather and a black cloak. His skin shimmered faintly in the dark, the Bloodcode veins beneath still pulsing from his last transformation. In his hand, a new weapon: a hooked saber stolen from the corpse of the assassin he had devoured.
Shia walked beside him like a shadow with teeth.
Tonight, they would paint the woods with noble blood.
Three patrols guarded the Feyroot border: one at dusk, one at midnight, one at dawn. Shia had memorized the rotation.
"They follow a path that loops by the creek every hour," she said, crouched beside Reed on a ridge above the glade.
"Numbers?"
"Four to six each patrol. Lightly armored. Bow-heavy."
Reed grinned.
"Perfect. We'll take the midnight patrol. Kill the scouts. Leave one to run."
Shia tilted her head. "You want him to escape?"
"I want him to panic. I want him to drag fear into their warm little tower."
The Feyroot patrol arrived at midnight sharp.
Four knights in green cloaks, their armor light, bows strung. They walked in loose formation—too comfortable. Too arrogant.
They never saw the goblins hidden beneath the underbrush. Not until the flares lit the sky—goblin torches soaked in oil and fungus.
By the time the patrol turned toward the light, it was too late.
Shia struck first—a blur of green and steel. She gutted the rearguard, twisting her blades in a spiral through the man's ribs.
The others raised their bows—
—but Reed was already among them.
He moved with inhuman speed. His saber opened the neck of the first soldier, then cleaved into the second's shoulder, snapping bone like wet wood. Goblins swarmed the last man, dragging him screaming into the mud.
One was left. Panicked. Bleeding from the shoulder.
"Let him go," Reed ordered.
The goblins hesitated.
Reed grabbed the man by the hair, yanked his head back, and whispered into his ear, voice like a blade.
"Tell your lord the Hollow sends regards."
Then he kicked the man into the dark, laughing.
The bodies were stripped quickly.
Leather. Arrows. Rations. Maps. And one silver pendant—etched with a protective sigil.
Reed held it in the torchlight. "Magical?"
"Maybe," Shia said, taking it carefully. "Could be a tracking rune. I'll keep it contained."
He turned to the goblins.
"You eat what you kill. Strip them. Burn the rest."
No one flinched.
Goblins feasted. Flesh was torn. Bones cracked. Organs were offered to Reed. He waved it off—he wasn't hungry. Not for food.
He watched the flames instead.
The goblins had found something else nearby—a supply wagon. Unattended, stuck in the mud, with two terrified squires bound to the rear wheel.
One was already missing fingers.
Reed stepped close, blade dragging behind him.
"You're Thorne's men?"
The older one nodded, barely. "We—we were moving grain and oil to the tower—please—"
Reed crouched, grinning.
"I'm going to ask one question. You both get one chance to answer. Whoever lies... dies slower."
They nodded, trembling.
"Is there a path to the main tower that avoids the patrol routes?"
The younger squire broke. "Yes! Through the old fox trails—west slope—no guards!"
The older shook his head. "He's lying. It's trapped—warded—"
Reed stood.
Then sliced the older man's face open from chin to temple.
He turned to the younger. "You better hope you were right."
By dawn, the warband returned to Goblin's Hollow.
They carried grain, steel, a map, and two living heads mounted on pikes.
The goblins howled as they entered—mad, shrieking, wild with pride and bloodlust. They lined the hollow's center, chanting Reed's name.
He raised a fist. Silence fell.
"First blood is drawn," he said. "The forest bleeds."
They cheered.
Then he threw the silver pendant into the flames. It hissed.
In the war-cave, Reed spread the captured map. Shia leaned in, scanning it with keen eyes.
"The west slope is unmarked," she said. "He was telling the truth."
Reed cracked his knuckles. "Then that's our next move."
The System pinged:
QUEST COMPLETE: DOMAIN EXPANSION - STAGE I
Reward: +500 EXP
New Trait Unlocked: Fearmonger
All goblins under your command gain +10% attack when fighting enemies marked by fear.
Item Gained: Thornblade (Cursed)
Description: A cursed Feywood longsword that gains power from inflicted pain.
Level Up: 5 → 7
Reed felt the change ripple through his skin. His senses sharpened. His teeth ached with pressure.
Then the System glitched again—red static flickered across the interface.
[WARNING: Bloodcode 2/7 Activating…]
Side Effects: UNKNOWN
Corruption Risk: HIGH
Proceed? [Y/N]
Reed stared.
A drop of blood slid down his cheek, unbidden.
He pressed Y.
He didn't scream—but every nerve in his body did.
The ground split beneath him. Veins burst open across his arms. His shadow twisted on the cave walls, growing horns, fangs, limbs.
Shia ran in, blades drawn—but stopped cold.
"Reed—what did you do?"
His voice came out broken, layered, two-toned—human and something else.
"I opened the next gate."
Behind him, his reflection in the stone pool was no longer his own.
Something was staring back.