Chapter 18
The goblins hadn't moved yet. They stood there—snarling, twitching, hungry for blood—but they waited, almost savoring the moment, drinking in the despair of their prey like a fine wine before the feast. The squad, bloodied and beaten, stood frozen. Fear, exhaustion, and hopelessness thickened the air.
Then Aiden stepped forward.
His boots crunched against the cracked stone floor, and the sound alone drew the eyes of the others. He moved past Nathan's crumpled form, past the frightened healers and fighters. He planted himself between the enemy and what was left of the squad. His presence seemed to pull the air taut.
"You shouldn't try to play the hero," someone muttered shakily, still conscious enough to judge. "After all… you're just a Vire."
Aiden didn't reply. Not because he was offended—but because he simply didn't care anymore.
One of the dark goblins moved first, slipping forward in a blur of speed with its wicked black dagger raised high. It screeched a soundless snarl. The others stepped back, ready for blood.
But Aiden's eyes turned crimson.
In a blink, he sidestepped the dagger, pivoted low, and drove his knee into the goblin's gut. The monster gasped as its body lifted off the ground from the force. The air cracked with the impact. Before it could recover, Aiden's right arm morphed. Flesh became obsidian. Fingers curled into claws. His skin shimmered with an inhuman texture.
Gasps echoed behind him.
"He… he's morphing into them?" one person whispered in disbelief.
The goblin tried to escape, leaping back—but it didn't see the tail. A thick, black tail—not from any dark goblin, but something else entirely—whipped forward like a spear and pierced through its eye. Before the monster could even cry out, Aiden's claw tore through its neck. A flash of black and crimson.
Rip.
The goblin's head hit the ground with a sickening thud.
Aiden landed silently, black claws dripping, eyes still glowing. His body was still mostly human—but hints of monsters crawled beneath his skin.
The squad stared.
It had taken Nathan several brutal minutes to take one down. Aiden had done it in under sixty seconds… and hadn't taken a single scratch.
But his appearance…
Those red eyes. The obsidian claws. The unnatural tail.
He looked like something that shouldn't exist.
He looked like something terrifying.
Someone finally whispered the thought on everyone's mind: "He's using multiple beast forms…"
That should've been impossible.
But Aiden barely heard them. His mind was focused. His skill—Morph—allowed him to transform parts of his body into weapons. At first, he thought that was it. But later, through bloody trial and error, he discovered he could extract DNA from monsters and beasts—and borrow their very biology.
But it came at a cost.
Merging human and monster traits wasn't without consequence. The more he used it, the more stamina it consumed. And the more it consumed, the more it pulled from something… deeper. Something within him that he feared losing.
He pushed the thought away.
The goblins shrieked—no longer amused, now enraged.
They attacked in a swarm.
Aiden surged forward, meeting them head-on. His body twisted and turned, dancing between blades and claws. His tail slashed behind him, claws struck with deadly precision. He dodged, blocked, countered—fighting with a deadly rhythm.
One goblin lunged. Aiden sidestepped, aimed for its throat.
Another blocked the strike.
A third slashed his back.
Blood spilled.
Aiden growled, spinning, landing a blow that cracked a goblin's jaw—but it wasn't enough. There were too many. Eighteen against one.
Nathan watched from behind, heart clenching. He hated how helpless he felt. Hated himself for being unable to stand. The Vire they'd mocked—the outcast they dismissed—was now their only shield.
But just as a goblin lunged to strike—
Smash!
A wall of stone erupted from the ground, blocking the attack. A moment later, two figures lunged from the sides, blades gleaming. They struck, forcing the goblin to retreat—but not before severing its arm.
Aiden blinked. Around him, six others now stood—panting, bloodied, but resolved.
One of them—at the center—lowered his hand, the source of the stone wall.
He smiled.
"I take back what I said, Aiden. Vire or not… I believe you'll become a great hero."
The others nodded.
They had all seen it.
The courage. The strength. The pain he was willing to carry.
The heart of a hero.
A heavy thud behind them made them all turn.
Nathan.
Bloodied, limping, his arms gone—but not broken. Not in spirit.
"I've lost my arms," he rasped. "But I'll fight… alongside a great hero like you. Aiden, right?"
Aiden felt something wet blur his vision. A tear. His first in years.
This was the first time since him—that strange black-and-white-haired boy—that someone had acknowledged him. Accepted him.
He nodded.
Nathan, smiling through the pain, leaned down, lifted a fallen dagger with his foot, kicked it into the air, and caught it in his mouth.
"Let's go," he said.
Aiden turned, eyes burning with purpose.
The rest of the squad surged forward behind him.
The Vire… had become their beacon.
---
Back at Han's Side
"9996... 9997... 9998... 9999... 10,000."
Han rose to his feet, drenched in sweat. His chest heaved. His muscles trembled. Every fiber in his body screamed for rest—but he didn't collapse. He stood tall, his breath ragged, his eyes sharp.
Clara, standing nearby, blinked in disbelief. He actually did it... Ten thousand push-ups, sit-ups, and squats without pause? She opened her mouth, then closed it, uncertain whether to praise him or question his sanity.
"…What now?" she finally asked, unable to hide her curiosity.
Han turned to her slowly. His expression was unreadable.
"Now?" He wiped the sweat from his brow and faced her directly. "Now you fight me."
Clara's face twitched. "What the hell?!" she blurted.
---
Back at the Goblin Fortress
The clang of metal rang like funeral bells. Steel bit into flesh. Screams echoed. Blood stained the cold, cracked stone. First, dark goblins fell—sliced down by blades, burned by fire. But it didn't last. Soon, humans began dropping one after another.
Bang!
A body crashed against the fortress door and slid to the floor in a trail of blood. The figure groaned, rising shakily. Blonde hair, matted with blood and sweat, clung to his face. His body swayed—but he did not fall. He looked around.
Ten goblins. Six human allies. All fallen.
Nathan lay in a twisted heap, bones shattered, breath shallow. He couldn't move. Couldn't speak. He just watched.
Mia, the healer, was barely standing due to fear. The others—support fighters—were either dead or too injured to continue. Only the chubby-cheeked man remained standing, his eyes wide and glassy. He hadn't moved an inch. Not to fight. Not to flee. The blood on his skin wasn't his. It was from the goblins who had died.
"Not a single scratch... What kind of insane luck does he have?" Aiden thought.
And in the center of it all... stood Aiden.
The last fighter standing.
His legs buckled with every step. His breathing was ragged. Pain seared through every nerve. But he moved forward—one inch at a time.
I can't fall... Not yet. If I do, they all die.
On the throne above, the Goblin Lord sat motionless, eyes like glass. Unmoved. Cold. Watching. With a single snap of his fingers, the remaining seven dark goblins charged.
Aiden dodged the first strike, but the second dagger buried itself deep into his gut. He gasped—but didn't stop. Blood gushed, but he gritted his teeth and drove his claw through the goblin's neck.
Down to six.
The rest came harder, faster—sensing danger. This wasn't just a human. He was refusing to die.
Moments later, Aiden's body was sent flying once again—slamming into the ground with a sickening thud. He lay there, twitching once… then still. The goblins exhaled in relief, thinking it was over.
But then—he moved.
Groaning, Aiden forced himself up, staggering to his feet. His eyes were barely open, swollen from bruises and blurred by blood. Every breath felt like a knife in his lungs. I'm going to die, he thought, his vision flickering at the edges like a candle about to snuff out.
But if he was going down... he'd take another one with him.
That stubborn thought burned brighter than the pain—kept him standing, kept him fighting. It was the only reason he could rise again… and again.
Nathan watched, his own body limp, rage boiling in his chest. Why can't I move? Why!? Damn it—why is he still standing when I can't even move a muscle!?
He screamed silently inside his own mind as tears burned down his cheeks.
And then... a faint hum flash across the air. A subtle vibration.
Nathan's breath hitched. What was that?
The goblins froze as Aiden step forward.
This human… he's dangerous, they thought.
But then—Aiden stopped, his arm warped and bloodied, shifted back to its human form. His knees gave in. He was done.
One goblin grinned and lunged—dagger raised, targeting Aiden's head.
Bang!
A thunderous boom shattered the fortress gates.
The goblin's head exploded in a burst of gore before it could reach its target.
Silence fell.
A figure stood beside Aiden—calm, composed.
White and black hair danced gently in the air, his hand still extended forward in a punch.
"Fourteenth Jungle Art…" he said, voice eerily calm. "Tiger Punch."
Han had arrived.
---
To be continued.