She soothed him, putting her hand on his front and back, but he had suffered psychologically, a nagging feeling that he had been too weak, Hunila disabused him from that notion. Placing her hand on his feet, on his chest, on his arms and legs. He decided to quickly heat up some soup. The rest of the village was informed of his rescue and were happy for it, most smiled knowingly. Hunila put healing salves on where his wounds were, even though they had healed already, having a calming effect if not a healing effect. Her eyes lit up, and he felt the hypnotic light, they were filled with lust, he brushed her face and kissed deeply. She kissed his chest multiple times; holding his dick in her hands,

“I can’t imagine what I’d do if they’d damaged this,” she purred.

He chuckled.

“Thankfully not,” he whispered, “they were too busy beating me everywhere else.”

“Good, I mean.”

He laughed again, kissed her forehead and she looked kindly at him. He clasped her butt with lust, but was overcome with relief in another sense.

“Thank you for coming for me,” he said, in a tight embrace.

“Your dick is poking at me,” she said interrupting, “but I would do it a thousand times. Save you I mean. But we can try that as well.”

“More than that surely? The saving I mean.”

They both laughed, interrupting their mirth with lust. She kissed him, and he kissed her.

“Stay still, I will help you.”

She removed his trousers before deciding to suck his lust out of him. She looked up at him, and he exhaled desperately, as she did not let him. She put her hands on his thighs, slobbering on him before he exploded inside her mouth. She swallowed his seed calmly before she tugged at him, and led them to the baths outside. The walls to protect from leering eyes were still there, although Hunila checked in an almost paranoid fashion to see if it was still there. She kissed him and she erupted into crying.

“I was so scared,” she blubbered into his shoulder.

“It’s ok, truthfully I was too, I was so glad to see you,” he said pressing her tightly.

“We’re having a moment here,” she growled at his physical self rubbing on her, “but I’m just the same.”

She was soaked, her face dripping, and her pussy too.

“Sorry there’s too many differing emotions, but they all blend, I assure you,” he said nuzzling her breast.

Stolen story; please report.

“I know,” she said softly.

She clasped his head with a gentle feminine touch. The mixture of the pure with the illicit provided a dizzying mess, one he broke with.

“I love you,” he said.

“You know that means less when you say it now,” she said to him, half grinning.

“Maybe but it feels more,” he said huskily, caressing her.

Her muscular body was leaned up against his, her chest, her pussy, everything about her filled him with vigour and desire. He clasped her voluptuous body before they both comforted themselves for the evening.

While Madakos enjoyed his evening, the great Goblin insurrection continued in the Demon realm, Goblins had impaled Demons, and organised roaming bands to fight and clash with Demon regiments. They fought across Goblina and its environs; Demons and Devils came to restore order and they did in the city centre, but many Goblins had fled into the nearby hills and caverns, some retreating into the sewers, others dying like dogs on the street. Many more Goblins were being freed, hiding in the caves, some outright taking over villages, while others fought pitched battles and were promptly defeated, the survivors executed. Jubilation at gaining freedom, fear of losing it, the smell of blood everywhere. Despite Hunila’s ravaging of the fortresses and forts, there was little doubt that the Demons would restore order, even among the Goblins. Some threw away their arms, but others exhorted all to fight.

“We have been given this chance, and so we can either die in freedom or live as slaves forever! Choose!”

“I choose the third option!”

“What?” The Goblin rabble rouser asked.

“Kill them and live free!” The interjector Goblin screamed, to absolute jubilation.

The shrieks, the shouts, the collective eye wetting as thousands screamed. They scribbled messages, on walls, cliff sides and buildings; written with blades, blood or ink.

Izuk will live in our hearts.

You can only kill us.

These words be my testimonial, I chose freedom.

Many behaved like rabid dogs: one pack in particular managed to catch a Devil, the Devil was prowling, readying flame spells in his hands, before sharpened sticks struck through his hands, and then his legs. The ringing pain was less deafening than the sheer confusion at having been hit, pierced like a pig on a spit, and by what a Devil would consider a completely lesser being, for in their eyes, Demons were lesser beings, let alone Goblins.

“What?” The Devil uttered, baffled by its situation.

The Devil in question managed to burn one Goblin to a crisp, and crush another one’s head like a grape, but even then he bled out, even a Devil could be killed by a Goblin, and it soon slumped to the floor, lifeless.

“Those rascals! Kill them!”

Poison gas out of nowhere was used on the Demons, the Goblins immediately masked up. Coughing before slumping to the floor. This was the state of Goblina, sheer rebellion. Sweat on everyone’s faces, blood on everyone’s clothes, death on every street. The most unfortunate were perhaps the common Demons, even those who did not own slaves, who did not directly oppress the Goblins who would still be caught up in Goblin reprisals. They were not enlightened freedom fighters by any stretch of the imagination, but only a fool couldn’t understand them. Some left over fortresses had been taken by the Goblins, these ones were particularly foolish, for the forts were designed with teleportation in mind, Devils and large Demons could appear and easily overwhelm the garrison. This was how the Goblins lost their independence to begin with, again these Goblins did not have a full grasp of their own history, and most were illiterate with all the dangers that came with.