I count twenty of them. Too damn many. And too damn fast! They close on us before I can figure out what is the best thing to do.

I'm trying to figure out how is that possible when I notice that they are not any kind of fangers. They are a whole foot taller than WhiteHead! That means even with me inside, I’ll have trouble fighting these monsters. I can run faster, but that would mean leaving my pack behind, so I urge them not to turn around, not to stop, just to run, run as fast as they can.

With my soul inside, WhiteHead is lighting fast. And my pack can’t keep up with me. I have to slow down or else I will have a pack no more.

I see two of my packs are falling back. The goblins are within shooting distance of their spears. I have to slow down and let them pass me.

Then I zig-zag, so the flying spear misses me by a mile, and then I instantly turn around and go straight at the goblin that is closest to us. I jump high, and his wolf snaps at me, but my paw gets him over the eye, so violently I think I take it out while I knock the goblin down with my head.

I do not bother with killing him but run to catch up with the others as the goblin gang is right behind us.

Run, run! I tell the others who slowed down to fight for me.

One of the chasing goblins throws his spear at me, and I only have a second to jump out of its way. And then it’s a race.

I'm afraid the shorter dwarves won’t stand much of a chance against them. I scream at Rocky to tell them to start climbing up the trees, but I’m not sure if he understands me clearly, not knowing if he will do what I ask as our Bonding is not even at fifty percent yet.

Nosey is slipping. I see they will catch him. So, I run to a side and then turn around to jump on the goblin sideways. Another one chases me and I run straight for the tree.

I’m but a few steps away when I change the direction so fast, with the help of my agility that is now double the normal, counting the other ones just don’t have that option.

And I’m right. He slams into the tree trunk so hard I hear bones crack. The tree stands but the goblin and the fanger are no more. Almost makes me laugh.

But other ones are so close behind, I need to run, run faster.

I don’t know whose heart is beating harder, mine or Whiteheads, or is it the same now?

I’m coming from the side and see another one advancing on Nosey again and I roar something that no wolf or fanger could ever utter. The beast slows and turns around. But it’s too late, I’m already in the air, and I bring the goblin down, then roll over the ground and get up to continue to run, seeing Nosey has continued to run and is reaching where the trap should be set up.

As I run forward, I have a sick feeling… what if there is no trap?

Rocky, where are you? The Bonding level permits me to locate him in the forest, but not exactly where. Has he got my message and started to flee?

The answer comes as a dark shadow jump in front of me, and an axe flies just a hair above my head. Damn, if I jumped just a bit up, WhiteHead would be now NoHead.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

But his swing chops the goblin Fanger’s head off just a split second before he could sink his teeth into my ass.

I jump out of Whitehead and tell him to take cover and I step into my monster.

And then it’s show time.

In the corner of my eye, I see two dwarfs line up behind the tree to the right holding something in their hands. So, they did not take my advice, or did Rocky fall silent on me?

But I have no time to think

Then I hear Rocky telling me to fall back a few steps, moving me backward, and I’m in shock. I should be controlling him, not the other way around. But I let him take two steps back, and no more.

Then I have to curse myself as I see why he wanted to do that.

A whole bunch of huge Fangers and goblins are just a few meters away from me and I have the axe high above my shoulder, ready to chop them up when I see a rope fly right up against the road, see dwarfs on both sides holding it stiff.

Silly me! I’m really like the least experienced fighter here ordering others who know their shit pretty good from what I can tell.

No time for self-pity. I swing the axe and it goes a hundred degrees. I put all my body in it, and it takes two, or three Fangers who were sure they would sink their teeth into me, take them so violently that their heads and bodies fly as if they had hit a truck.

I swing from the left and chop one down, from the right, and another one goes down, and then again backhand and forehand, backhand and forehand, and the rope that the dwarfs are pulling all their strength to hold up is a tennis net, the balls the bodies of goblins and their wolves. With the bodies pilling up, I'm Grand Slamming it for sure.

There is no fear, not even the tiniest spec of it. There is just blood lust. Eagerness to send one head after another one, chop them off their bodies, make them fly.

One goblin rider flies at me, his advance stopped by the rope. I don’t even use the axe that is on my left side, but I rise my right foot and it smacks him down and then I bring the axe over my head and split his face in half. That’s like a smash, but this time, I just killed the ball.

One riderless Fanger sneaks below the rope and tries to bite my leg. But an arrow picks him in the throat, and I free my left hand and grab him by his tail and then swing him through the air to knock another goblin off his ride. That seems not to be enough for the Fanger and it jumps back to snap at Rocky again who grabs him with a lighting speed by the back of his neck, then tail again, and the he spins around, sending the wolf high, way over the tree top.

I’m inside Rocky, but, what the hell? I should just sit back and relax, let the pro do his thing.

By now all the goblins and their Fangers have stopped dead in their mad run, staring at the carnage, their eyes wide, polluting the air with their stink. And fear. I can see it, smell it, feel it growing inside their bellies and I run toward them to liberate them from it all.

I see the arrows fall on them and I rush to finish them off, not even waiting for the dwarfs to put the rope down. I just stepped on it, pulling it down. A mistake as I hear dwarfs still trying to hold it bang against the tree, all hurt and cursing.

Oh, well. It could be worse.

I do not want not even one of these goblins living and I care little how their spears are used as my axe is zipping through the air, the sound so sweet in my ears, before it cracks bones and cuts bodies, that sound even sweeter. I even try a slightly different approach, moving my axe from the ground, moving it up into a raising arc to cut the Fanger from below the belly, hoping I could get to the goblin as well.

It works, and the few goblins still left living are left screaming in agony.

It's not only that we make the sport of killing them. We make it even look freakishly good.

Two, or three of them who still are breathing decide to run away, but axes fly in the air together with the spears and soon, none are standing.

That was good, I have to say. But... the noise and the light in the distance draws my attention.

Three, four hundred meters up front there is a sight to see.

There are good sixty, or seventy goblins marching in a tight formation toward us, chanting and moving with torches raised above their head. They have swords banging in chorus at their armor-covered chest.

But I don’t care about any of that.

What I care about is what is in the middle of them.

“Shit, they’ve got a Rocky of their own,” I mutter to myself.

Except it’s not Rocky. His head is inside the ugliest black helmet I ever saw. And that’s not all. His shoulders are covered in armor plates and a big trident is in his hand for a weapon. And every time he raises it in the air, the Goblins shout, "Ho!!!" and bang their swords. Then they make a few steps, and again, "Ho!!!"

It's scary. I'm ready to shit Rocky's pants.

Damn! What do I do now? Run??

Is it too late to just pick our shit and leave?

Too late to say we are sorry. Say ‘won’t happen again’.