Rookies

The last nest of the day lay on the far edge of the eastern ridge, where the forest grew dense and steep cliffs overlooked a broken ravine. The sun had begun to dip behind the trees, casting long, slanted shadows across the earth.

Red sat still atop his Kokoroko, one gloved hand resting on the reins, the other gently brushing the edge of his sword hilt. His eyes scanned the clearing below.

Thirty goblins.

Two hobgoblin grunts.

He narrowed his eyes.

Too many for any Silver-ranked party. Too many for even a Gold-ranked group unprepared.

Their nest was dug into the ravine wall, a jagged split in the rock, fortified with makeshift wooden planks and a gate of scavenged bones. Goblins scurried about, some sharpening weapons, others fighting amongst themselves. Two hobgoblins barked orders, keeping the others in line.

They had organization.

That was always a bad sign.

Red dismounted without a sound. His cloak flared in the wind, snapping like a war banner. He crouched low, observing every movement.

Terrain favors ranged ambush.

Goblins are distracted. Unaware.

Hobgoblins positioned at opposite ends, command structure.

Crude alarm rope by the gate. Weak point.

Infant carriers spotted. Escape protocols triggered.

They know someone might come. They're preparing for a siege.

He couldn't allow that.

No survivors. No legacy. No retreat.

He moved like death in a storm.

His blade struck first, slicing through the rope that linked their crude alarm system. The goblins didn't even realize the attack had begun until the first hobgoblin fell, its head severed cleanly in a single, soundless motion.

Red: "One".

The rest howled in confusion.

Red darted through them, a streak of black steel and red eyes. Every step brought death. Every motion was clean. Efficient.

Red: "Two. Three. Four. Five."

One goblin screamed as his blade caught its jaw, splitting it in half. Another lunged with a rusted spear. He sidestepped, shattered its knee, and thrust upward through the sternum.

Red: "Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten."

The second hobgoblin finally reacted, roaring and charging with a makeshift axe.

Red rolled under the swing, jammed his sword upward through its stomach, and followed with a second strike to sever the spine.

Red: "Eleven."

Infants cried in the distance.

Red turned.

Two goblins were trying to sneak through the woods, arms full of wriggling, swaddled infants, no doubt hoping to repopulate elsewhere.

He raised his dagger.

Three throws. Three strikes.

Infants don't get to escape. Not again.

No one did.

No hesitation.

Because they would grow. They would learn. And they would remember.

And next time, there might not be someone like him around.

He wouldn't take the risk.

He finished them all.

When it was done, Red stood among thirty-two corpses.

Blood soaked the soil. The wind howled through the trees like the forest itself was mourning.

But Red didn't feel grief.

He felt duty.

He turned toward the nest.

Inside, the air was suffocating, wet with rot, damp with despair. The inner chamber was deeper than the others, carved roughly from stone. Chains hung from the ceiling. Bones lined the walls. A foul stench clung to everything.

And then he saw them.

Two girls. Young. Bronze-ranked adventurers by their shattered gear and torn guild cloaks, both barely clinging to consciousness. They were tied to a central pillar with thick ropes. Their clothes had long since been torn away, skin bruised and bleeding. bound to a carved pillar of stone, barely more than sixteen or seventeen years old adventurers, or what remained of them. Naked, bruised, eyes wide with terror.

Souls flickering.

They flinched at his footsteps, more afraid of him than the monsters now.

He crouched.

Pulled off his cloak.

Wrapped them both carefully.

They shivered beneath the warmth, like it was the first human kindness they'd known in days.

He didn't speak at first. He didn't offer false comfort.

Just one question.

"…Do you want to live?" His voice was low, calm. Like asking whether they wanted water or fire.

The first girl looked up, barely able to speak. She nodded. Slowly. Tears slipped from her eyes.

The second hesitated, then whispered, "Y-Yes. Please…"

Red untied them.

They collapsed into his arms, lightweight, fragile. He carried them both out.

Outside, the Kokoroko lowered itself with a grunt. Red gently placed one girl across the saddle, then the other behind her. They clung weakly to the leather harness, barely able to sit upright.

He climbed on behind them, holding them steady with one arm, reins in the other.

Then he rode.

The return to Silverhaven was quiet.

The girls didn't speak.

Red didn't either.

When he arrived at the gate, the guards didn't question him, one looked at the blood-streaked armor and the state of the girls, and they simply waved him through.

He brought them directly to the guild hall, straight past the quest board, straight to the infirmary in the back, one of the few magically supported clinics attached to the Adventurer's Guild.

But not enough.

Not for this.

"Sophia," Red said, approaching the front desk. "Call the Arcanum of Life."

The receptionist's eyes widened. "Understood."

Within minutes, a pair of white-robed mages from the Arcanum of Life arrived, casting gentle healing circles and lifting the girls onto stretchers. One turned to Red and nodded.

"They'll survive. You got to them in time."

Red didn't reply.

He turned, walked straight back to the quest board, eyes sweeping over the parchment postings again.

Twelve new goblin extermination quests had been listed.

Low rank. Silver and Bronze.

His eyes narrowed.

He pulled every single one down, rolled them into a bundle, and returned to the counter.

Sophia blinked. "You're taking all of them?"

Red: "Yes."

Sophia: "They're meant for…"

Red: "I know who they're meant for."

She paused. Looked at him. Then stamped them all without another word.

Red tucked the papers away.

The day's work had ended.

But the fight wasn't over.

As long as goblins existed, the weak would suffer.

He wouldn't let that happen again.

He thought of the girls.

He thought of what he'd found.

He wasn't going to let the next rookie team suffer the same fate.