The goblin commander advanced with very clear intentions. Its gaze told all that it needed to; it would kill the native. However, it only managed to advance by a couple of steps before it stopped. Its instincts screamed of danger and forced the commander to turn and face the red goblin behind it.
Between the native and the red goblin that it now faced, it was clear which of the two posed a greater threat. The native couldn’t even muster enough strength to stand, much less be a danger to anyone but itself.
The goblin commander winced once it fully faced the red goblin, its senses being assaulted in full force. The commander was strong enough to resist the ambient effects, but it was nowhere near strong enough to resist them when faced by the source.
Biting its lower lip, the commander focused all of its senses on the opponent in front. It strengthened its grip on its sword and walked forward, knowing full well that its chances of victory were basically zero.
What stood before it was a calamity, a forceful descent of a being on the same level as a god—their local deity, the Blood Flower. Worshipped since times immemorial, responsible for more death and destruction than all of the goblin species combined.
It was their secret weapon. The Blood Flower was often used as a last resort when fending off some of the old powers of the multiverse that were also interested in the same planet they were. But more often than not, it was used as a parting gift when their efforts were crushed, and they were forced to retreat.
The goblin higher-ups were also aware of how the infantry goblins used the blood flowers themselves, as a party trick, as liquor, and as a drug.
But due to their unique physiology, it was basically impossible for goblins to die upon consumption of the blood flower, regardless of the amount. They were more likely to drown because of the excessive amount of liquid than because of the blood flower contained within the liquor.
Considering all the facts it knew to be true; it was easy for the goblin commander to deduce what had caused the current situation. It was the native that had refused to die or leave.
After witnessing its display of powers that it shouldn’t have, the commander had increased the number of soldiers that were sent with the worker teams, they had also prioritized weapons and armor over construction materials and machinery.
But the native still refused to die. It adjusted its targets and combat methods. When there were too many enemies, it would cut down their numbers and retreat shamelessly.
When their numbers were manageable, it would make a display of its strength, making it clear that they weren’t worth its time, killing the goblins swiftly.
Now the native dared to make martyrs of unwilling goblins. It was an insult to the Blood Flower! It was an insult to the dead goblins! It was an insult to their people as a whole!
A white-hot fury burned within the goblin commander. It wanted to claim its victim, it wanted to make things right. And the only way to make things right was by bringing an end to the life of the native. But first, it needed to handle the deity.
There were three ways to drive the Blood Flower back. The first was the simplest, it was to wait it out, allowing it to exhaust its power and not allowing it to regenerate more by any means, only then would it retreat on its own.
The second was to allow it to claim its tribute, whatever unwilling victims happened to be near when it was summoned. However, this was a risky tactic, at times the Blood Flower decimated entire planets before it was satisfied.
Finally, the most dangerous way was to exhaust the capabilities of its avatar. At the end of the day, it had descended on to a normal mortal body, a body that had limits and unless it was allowed to recover, would break down on its own.
So now, the commander needed to pay proper respects to the Blood Flower, and the only way to do so was by giving it a proper fight. Combat worthy of a god. Worth enough to satiate its hunger and retreat once more to its slumber.
The goblin commander steeled its resolve and lifted its sword, bringing it as far back as it could. Then, with as much force as it could muster, it swung it forward, directly at the red goblin—avatar of the Blood Flower.
The avatar took the full brunt of the impact, the sword cutting cleanly through its left arm, completely severing it. The blade only stopped a few millimeters from the avatar’s heart.
The commander yanked at its sword, trying to pull free it from the avatar’s torso, but suddenly, from the open wound of the avatar’s arm, two goblin torsos—head and all—formed, clutching the sword and holding it in place.
Three sets of eyes fixated on the struggling commander; they conveyed an innocence that was ill fitted for the grotesque imagery that they were providing to all who glanced in their direction.
Shaken by the odd sight, the commander didn’t know what to do. Suddenly, their shock grew to greater heights when, out of nowhere, the native struck the hands of the two goblin bodies.
The commander was shaken, but years of training and combat prepared it for such situations. Not missing the opportunity, it yanked the sword free, two sets of hands still gripping it tightly, though the rest of the arms remained with their torsos.
The goblin bodies, having emerged from the avatar’s wound, bubbled grotesquely back inward. As the native landed behind the avatar, another head sprouted from the back of its own. Each head looking directly at one opponent.
The avatar tried to regrow its missing limb, but instead of forming a new arm, it only managed to lengthen the stump. It had no idea how to make new limbs, so it was only moving the ones it already had around.
The avatar lunged at the commander—or more accurately, at the sword—trying to retrieve the limbs that were still clutching it. It was clearly acting on instinct, as it completely ignored the one still on the ground.
The commander quickly grasped the situation and brought itself and the sword further back, away from the avatar’s reach. When the avatar landed, its knees buckled, as it was still unused to them and how they functioned.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
The commander took the opportunity and removed the limbs from its sword and threw them as far away as it could. It glanced at the native, noticing that it was once again, struggling to stand.
The avatar slowly rose, flexing its legs. The muscles and bones under its skin shifted in a repulsive manner. It was testing the limits of everything that it had at its disposal, getting better acquainted with its body.
The Blood Flower was not an entity; it was a force—like a hurricane. Each time it was summoned, it was born anew, having to relearn everything from scratch. But it was a quick learner. The muscles and bones in its legs were beginning to stabilize, a testament to the speed at which it learned.
Having been briefed on the nature of the Blood Flower, and realizing what it was doing, the commander charged forward. It had to stop it from learning any more of its capabilities, otherwise, only a miracle would stop its rampage.
As the commander reached its target, its sword mid swing, the avatar swiftly lifted its leg and with a sudden, powerful motion, it drove the sword downward. The force was so great that it caused the sword to dig deep into the ground.
Not losing momentum, the commander let go of its sword and with a powerful swing, punched the avatar, feeling as if it had hit a sack of meat.
The avatar’s face deformed in an unnatural manner. As the commander’s fist lingered on its face, it felt solid objects moving behind the skin. It was as if the avatar had shattered all the bones on its face and rearranged them to soften the blow.
The avatar wound its own arm back, and, with a speed that should simply not be possible in a newly integrated world, it punched the commander in the chest.
The impact shattered every bone upon contact, sending shockwaves through its body that fractured every bone remotely connected to its ribcage.
----------
Anna knew the moment she laid eyes on the red goblin that it was the cause of all this. So, gathering all her strength and seizing an opportunity that was granted to her by the goblin commander, she sliced the arms that were holding the commander’s sword, freeing it.
But getting so close to the source intensified all the odd sensations, overloading her senses.
She tried to get up but instead remained on her knees. She tried to stay on her knees and instead stopped moving, even the slight trembling on her hands ceased. Unsure if she was unable to distinguish the right sensations or if she was simply unable to move, she continued to struggle.
Focusing all her senses on her sword, on the sensation of sharpness, channeling all her will on increasing the blade’s own power further. With each thought, she empowered it, allowing it to break free from the red goblin’s influence. Until finally, it worked.
Slowly, she was coming back to reality. Then a deafening boom that momentarily rid her of the invasive sensations completely, followed closely by a loud crack, could be heard echoing through the air. She whipped her head up, only to see how the red goblin was punching the commander, who immediately collapsed to the ground, fighting for air.
The red goblin turned to face her, and in an instant, it was before her. But Anna reacted in time as her sword pierced the goblin’s abdomen. With her sword imbued with sharpness, she pulled it upward, cleaving its upper torso in two.
With its upper body split in two, the red goblin extended its hand and with a simple back-handed slap, sent Anna flying.
Upon impact, Anna felt that her head would tear away from her neck. At the same time, she felt her sword cut something, and a huge crack appeared at the center of the blade.
She hit the tower with great force, the tower remaining unchanged. As she got up, she felt an odd sensation on her neck, it was something beyond sore, but it was only a lingering sensation. Trying to adjust herself, she noticed that her left shoulder was dislocated.
The red goblin was once again before her, this time with a new torso, the old one having been left behind. Instead of attacking her, it grabbed the sword, yanking it from her hands. In its mind, it was the sword that injured it, not the person wielding it.
The sword began to vibrate with much ferocity. The cracks became more pronounced, and small fragments began to fall. The air was becoming sharper, injuring the red goblin.
The red goblin knew that something was attacking it, but it had no notion of concepts, even the concepts that it itself embodied and used. So even as its wounds grew, it refused to leave the sword alone, as it didn’t know that it was the cause of its pain.
The goblin ran away, trying to escape the pain, but it wouldn’t leave it alone.
Anna stood, clutching her shoulder, feeling a pain through her neck like nothing she had ever felt before.
She followed the tracks that were being left behind by both the red goblin’s blood and the fragments that were falling off of her sword. Her advance was slow as she took her time to pick up all the pieces she came across.
The invading alien sensations began to dissipate. They were becoming overwhelmed by the ever-increasing sharpness in the air.
Even Anna had begun to feel how sharp the wind was, as it began to cut her too. The conceptual power that was permeating the environment was beyond anything she could handle.
Every step she took filled her with a sharp pain. Every breath left small wounds in her mouth and throat. It wasn’t just her, any goblin that had resisted the urge to do mortal harm to themselves, was now being cut apart by the very space that had gained a fine edge.
After dragging her body through what felt like a field of blades, she arrived at the gate that connected the inner and outer sections of the fortress.
A few steps before the gate, was the mutilated body of the red goblin, nothing more than a heap of flesh and gore, still holding on firmly to her sword with its only remaining limb. The blade of the sword was now barely the length of a dagger, yet the goblin held it firmly as it dragged itself forward, still trying to outrun whatever was injuring it.
Anna paused, not only because she was sure that even in its current state, the red goblin could kill her with ease, but also because the concept of sharpness had completely overtaken the immediate surroundings. If she stepped in, even she would be torn to shreds.
She watched as her sword broke down further, piece by piece, the intensity of its conceptual power increasing each time.
Until finally, the last piece fell, leaving only a small tip near the handle that refused to drop. She waited and waited, until she was sure that the red goblin was dead.
She slowly walked up to its corpse, making sure that it was, in fact, a corpse. Satisfied, she retrieved her sword and began to walk back toward the incursion platform, clutching her sword with as much strength as she could.
As she walked, Anna felt anger rise from deep within her. It was anger at herself for being so weak.
No matter how you looked at it, today she had done nothing extraordinary. Today, she was saved by her grandfather. Even now, her mind a bit clearer, she wasn’t entirely sure she was the one controlling her body when she landed a strike on the red goblin.
“And even worse, I should be dead,” she said disdainfully, massaging her aching neck.
Standing before the tower and incursion platform, she turned to face the still breathing goblin commander. She walked over to it and observed it carefully, its eyes not conveying anger or the arrogance and dismissal she had seen before, no, they were eyes that were ready for peace.
Without delaying it any further, Anna retrieved the commander’s sword, too heavy even for her. Raised it above its head, and brought it down, the sword digging into the ground, standing firm.
She then turned her attention to the incursion platform. Once she was near it, she did all the exact same things Eric had done.
After retrieving the hub crystal, she began to walk toward the pots she had been near of when everything began. When she arrived, she searched for a second, quickly finding the chained box with symbols all over it and grabbed it.
Opening it, she verified that all the flowers were still inside. Once she did, she put all the sword fragments she had managed to retrieve inside and clutched it firmly.
She grabbed whatever food she recognized and began to walk back to Solace, allowing herself to be immersed in the sounds of the system windows that began to pop up, one after the other.