The Firstlings

Aaron crashed into the horde, laughing manically as the goblins surged forward with bloodthirsty howls, their eyes burning with madness. Activating [Dance of Death], he wrapped his blade in soul flames and swept through the crowd in a storm of murder. Wherever he passed heads rolled, and limbs flew, his swords chilling howl joining in song with those around him.

His skill was empowered further due to having complete control over his mind, body, and soul. Each movement was precise and measured, taking little thought or movement. Aaron danced through the horde, wreaking havoc, easily sidestepping crude spears, chipped blades, and even claws and teeth. When an open maw snarled in his direction, he let it taste his blade as he cut through flesh with abandon.

Raising his sword above his head, Aaron allowed power to surge from his core into a [True Strike], letting it fall to the earth like an anvil. An azure blade of golden lightning shot forward with a thunderous roar, tearing through anything in its path. A deep gouge cut into the earth as the world trembled, arcs of golden lighting branching outward from the impact.

Although the strike left a rift of devastation in its wake, it vanished quickly as those left standing were more than enough to fill the gap. The goblins scrambled over their fallen, snarling with mouths foaming, desperate for the kill. Aaron charged forward, heading quickly toward Bently and Deagon, knowing it was impossible to kill the entire swarm.

But the goblins were more tenacious than he thought possible.

They appeared frail due to their small size and comically large ears, but they were far stronger than their meager frames looked capable of. Aaron felt it with each weapon he deflected or skull he bashed to a pulp. ‘Tough bastards!’ He growled, deftly sidestepping a crude spear as he took down the goblin responsible, continuously moving toward his destination.

He could now understand why the humans called them demons. With his enhanced sight, it appeared as if ink had been spilled onto a canvas, snuffing out the world’s vibrant colors. Their souls were hideous constructs, twisted and deformed, a reflection of their cruel intentions. Combined with their sickly green hide, razor-sharp teeth, and claws like daggers, Aaron felt that they were truly a foul race in every definition of the word.

Reaching through the bond, Aaron felt his siblings closing in. He sent instructions, cautioning them not to run into the horde recklessly, as they only needed to occupy them while he freed the prisoners. Calling out to Cornelius, he instructed him to look over Bently and ensure the horde didn’t try to harm him further.

His brother had already taken flight, he could sense him hovering over the battlefield. Silver bolts of azure light rained down, striking the horde repeatedly and bringing a satisfying smile to Aaron's face. He continued hacking his way through the never-ending tide of goblins, gaining ground as he moved forward relentlessly.

For just a moment, he felt a sense of familiarity in the goblins as they threw themselves forward with abandon. An unknown race pulled from the depths of who knows where made him reminiscent of their own beginnings. Maybe they weren’t so different from one another; only one had been tainted or led astray, embracing a more insidious path.

But a snarling goblin, its open maw dripping with saliva as it leaped at his face, cut the thought short. Aaron flicked his wrist, his blade taking the goblin's head from its shoulders as he came to terms with his own musings. They were nothing alike, and no comparison could be made. They weren’t quite as unnatural as the corruption found within the labyrinth... or what they had witnessed in Mother’s vision, but it was close.

Sighing, Aaron shifted his stance, deciding he would let loose a little more than he probably should. Circulating mana and soul essence through every limb, he leaped high into the air, spinning as he soared. Spears and arrows followed in his wake, but his spinning motion and ever-present blade protected him. Concentrating his mana and essence into the souls of his feet, Aaron fell to the earth like a boulder.

Crashing down, he released a pulse, sending a golden halo rippling through the horde. A burning smell filled the air as arcs of golden lightning seared flesh, biting into anything the halo touched. The crackling lightning carried traces of Aaron’s soul, causing the goblins to collapse, their flow of vital energies disrupted by a foreign essence.

Aaron smiled fiendishly, admiring the destruction surrounding him. Although it wasn’t a skill, only a technique using raw mana and essence, it was thoroughly exhilarating to witness in action. Discovering the ability while training with [Vital Hands], he found that his soul essence was highly effective at crowd control and combined with mana from his core was truly devastating.

He stomped forward, sending pulses spreading with each step, slowly clearing a path to Bently. His soul was vast due to his extreme training, but he still needed to proceed with caution. Using raw mana and soul essence without a skill made it extremely taxing, and it would rapidly consume his reserves.

Sending a call through the bond, a faint song echoed through the clearing, rapidly growing in power and cadence. Aaron finally admitted defeat, accepting that he was glad his siblings had ignored his plea and joined their expedition. There were too many of the rotten goblins for him to contain without burning through his reserves and putting them in even more danger.

Ciel’s song spread through the horde, drawing them from their maddened stupor and causing them to turn in her direction, staring longingly. Aaron stalked forward, the goblins around him remaining entranced by Ciel’s song as he closed the last distance, finally standing before Bently. Seeing his condition up close was troubling and it made Aaron's heart race.

Bently’s head lolled, his single open eye struggling to focus on Aaron as he mumbled incoherently through cracked lips. Gashes spread across his body in zigzags, signs of lashings and sharp weapons. Bite marks covered almost every inch of his body, a testament to what he had been through. The obsidian collar clasped around his neck dug into his throat, thrumming with a life of its own. Black veins spread up his face and trailed down his chest, leaching away his vitality, attempting to poison him from within.

Looking up at the horrifying sight, Aaron felt conflicted, second-guessing whether his actions were truly what he desired. He understood that a part of him took great satisfaction in Bently’s suffering, but the other part pushed back, raging at the sight of the man’s mangled form. Only through his unwavering will was the man even alive, and that will was the only thing that helped to calm Aaron's roiling emotions.

The man had made them a promise, and Aaron was going to make damn sure that he was around to fulfill it. Dismissing his conflicted thoughts, he nimbly scaled the log, working quickly to release the bindings, wincing as Bently hit the ground.

Aaron dropped, landing beside him, leaning in to inspect the nefarious collar. As his hands brushed against its ominously dark surface, he could feel the tips of his fingers burning as it attempted to spread its sinister infection. Peering deeper, he could make out runes hidden within the darkness, but they were odd and incomprehensible, almost archaic in their design.

The humans taught them that learning any language allowed you to understand the runes, but these… were odd. Not in an unnatural way but in a disorderly way, as they were harsh and chaotic, written in a sharp, disjointed fashion. Just looking at the runes made his head hurt, but he refused to relent as he needed to find the method to the madness.

Engrossed in the rhythm of the chaotic runes, he began to feel their flow, singling out a single rune that seemed to bring it all together. Aaron stabbed down, aiming directly for the marking, sending mana and soul essence to the tip of his blade. Sparks flew as the blade struck, and he snarled triumphantly, watching as a dark vapor rose, dissipating in the air with an angry moan.

The collar lost all its luster, appearing crude and plain in every way as Aaron rose, moving quickly to free Deagon. Finishing his task, he hoisted the two men onto his shoulders, preparing to head back through the horde. Before taking his first step, he froze in alarm as a terrifying roar cut through the sound of Ciel’s song, with drums and horns soon following.

It was the roar of a beast... and it was angry.

Aaron gulped, a chill running down his spine. But it wasn’t because of the roar or the idea of some powerful beast. It was because of the thousands of heads that turned as one to look in his direction.

The thousands of goblins that were no longer captured by Ciel’s spell.

‘Damnit!’ Aaron cursed, crouching low as he pushed strength into his legs, preparing to charge. He didn't know what was coming, but he was deep within the horde and needed to break out quickly before things got even messier.