We trudged through the tunnels beneath the village of Dirtacre for about thirty minutes. Above us, hundreds of goats roamed carelessly on lush green land.

The tunnels were filled with a slow rushing liquid - a mixture of water and waste - that seeped into my feet, my trousers and somehow, my underwear.

Each step was more of a struggle than the last. My footing was so uneven that I had to rest a hand against the slimy wall. Droplets of humidity seemed to glisten from the surface of the roughly bricked wall as if hundreds of spider were staring back at me.

In my free hand I held a wooden torch that had been wrapped in a wool type of fabric and doused in neat foot oil. The torch spilled just enough light to catch the silhouette of the smug little demon in front of me.

In contrast, the kid from earlier - who I overheard his mother call ‘John’ - was gliding through the stench water slurry like a duck.

I lifted my supporting hand for a moment and held up my forearm to block the reek of rot and waste. I had an acrid taste in the back of my throat that I assumed was result of the awful smell mixed with the heat.

“Struggling old man?” John glanced back and threw me a smug smirk.

I forced a laugh. “We can’t all be sewer rats.”

The ladies lurked behind like a sinister cabal, illuminated by five or six torches handed out between them. Some of the ladies were still holding fistfuls of their kirtle and smocks whilst the others had resigned themselves to wet sewer dresses.

Behind me I could hear the occasionally mutter or exasperating sigh between the rhythmic sloshes.

“Hey kid, do you know how long these tunnels go on for?”

“Pfft.” Was his only reply.

“No seriously.”

“What, because I’m a stinking sewer rat I must know my way around down here? Typical city folk. Do you think we play down here?” He snarled.

I stopped, rubbing a particularly engrained squishy turd against the wall. The ladies behind me stopped too. John continued a few steps forward but then turned around.

“I’m not from the city.” I muttered. “I’m not even from this world.”

“What?”

“I said, I’m not from the city.”

“I thought you were a big-time warlock from the academy. Last time I checked the academy was in the city.”

With the turd successfully dislodged I motioned for John to continue moving.

“I grew up in a place not unlike this.” I lied.

“Yeah. You seem right at home.” John laughed.

“So how long?”

John shushed me.

“How long?”

“No, listen.” He said.

I held a hand to stop the good time girls holding up the rear. I focused, hearing a faint murmur. It was a consistent rumble, like distant thunder that never stopped.

“The river?” I asked.

“We will be there in about five minutes. If you carry on this path and stay to the right, it will take you to the river.”

John moved to pass me, but I stopped him with a firm hand to his shoulder.

“I’m going. My Grandad and Dad are back there.”

“You can’t, please!” A cry came from the wenches. I assumed it was his mother.

“You’re seriously going back to fight?”

“Well, you aren’t going to, are you? Men of Dirtacre like me and my dad are proud. We won’t surrender. The fearsome goat spirit burns in our hearts.” He snarled.

“One, you’re not a man, you’re a boy. Two, what the hell is the goat spirit?”

“You don’t get it.” He snapped free and kicked me in the shin, “I’m going! You can’t stop me!”

Whatever. If he wanted to run into danger, then more power to him. I did not.

“Please. Don’t let him go.” His mother cried. A few other women let out whimpers.

I rolled my eyes. I had no intention of running head long into danger, but I couldn’t exactly let a child run off. It would ruin my reputation.

“Don’t worry, I will go with him. You carry on to the river and then head to nearest town. Don’t wait.” I instructed.

The mother was hesitant, but she nodded, placed a hand on my chest and then moved along.

I figured if I walked back for about fifteen minutes and then turned around, I could return to the ladies unharmed and saving face in the process. Maybe they would assume the boy rushed off and must have taken a wrong turn in his excitement?

Whatever.

I switched hands and trudged back along the tunnel, retracing my stinking steps. Without the additional light of the women my steps were uneasy. I made slow progress.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

This would have been much easier if Asha and Torg were with me. I should have insisted that they came along. Torg would have no doubt refused, but I could have probably made Asha come along. Her mastery of magic would have been useful.

That was when I realised that I could use my own magic to illuminate the tunnels. I had trained further since the debacle with the inn. Whilst I still struggled to control mana, I had mastered the ability to put out flames that I summoned. Well, at least the little ones.

I passed the torch over to my wall leaning hand and then summoned a blue flame in my free hand. Since the light emitted from the summoned flame was significantly brighter than the torch light, I dropped the torch. The flame in my hand flickered away happily. I swung my hand around a couple of times to see if the flame would be affected by the draft, but it seemed happy enough. Comfortable with my new setup, I continued.

After a further few minutes of moving through the turd soup I came to a crossroads where two tunnels diverged. When we were making our escape through the tunnels from the tavern, we had stuck to the left the entire time.

I eyed both options, shrugged, and took the passage to the left.

Moving through this new tunnel became easier. The soup beneath my feet was no longer chowder and more of a thin broth. Up ahead I could see a dim light.

A ray of sunlight from the growing dawn?

I picked up the pace and moved eagerly towards the light. If I could get out of these tunnels far enough from the village, the women would still think I went to save a reckless child and the defenders would think I saved the women. A win-win for me.

As I drew closer to the light, I could make out interweaving vines. The area looked unkempt and overgrown. It clearly hadn’t been accessed in a while. I brushed aside cobwebs and climbed through a maze of tree roots that had broken through the tunnel roof. The roots were as thick as my arm and easily as long.

Ducking through the roots, I made my way towards a shaft of light. As I moved closer, the shaft filled my view. It was coming from a crack in a stone wall dead ahead.

Pushing at the wall caused a brick to crumble. Then another. I scrambled at m, causing dust, stone and other debris to fall around me.

Instinctively, I extinguished the flame in my hand and sent a blast of energy at the wall. It exploded in a pile of dust, revealing the beautiful light of the dawn. I clambered through the destroyed wall and out of the tunnels.

I was birthed beneath a canopy of deep woodland. The air was fresh and cool. I took a deep inhale, the lovely scent of wet grass hit me. Then I heard those horrible horns again.

Turning, I clambered through the forest until I reached a clearing that led to a cliff edge. I peeked over the edge and a wave of dizziness hit me. Clambering back, I scanned the horizon looking for signs of the goblins.

On the east side of the cliff, I could see the village of Dirtacre. It was small - at least from where I was stood it looked small. Small in comparison to the blanket of green surrounding it that is.

I used a spell that Asha had taught me to increase my vision. It was a convenient trick that allowed me to hold my hands over my eyes in circular shapes like a pair of binoculars and effectively zoom in my view. Like I said, convenient.

Scanning around the village I could see the Son’s were fighting alongside the villagers. Asha was there, casting spells from the back of the fray. She looked tired and ragged but seemed in good spirits considering what she was facing. Torg too was there, deep in melee. He was bloody but moved elegantly and seemed uninjured.

Waves of green humanoid creatures scrambled over each other to attack the village. They were being held back by the impromptu defences and spells being thrown at them from blue water elementals.

Galant as their defences seemed, they were clearly struggling. Behind the front wave of goblins, a group of larger, more brutish looking goblins were gathered. These goblins were wheeling in a large wooden trebuchet and preparing to load large white stones.

Damnit. I didn’t want to get involved.

A large stone was launched from the trebuchet with a gentle thud. It arced, slowly before ploughing through the makeshift defences, ripping them apart as I did the stone wall of the tunnel and then tumbling through the Son’s and villagers with ease.

Screams erupted from the village and cheers from the goblins.

Damnit, damnit, damnit. I couldn’t let Asha and Torg die without at least trying to help. If I could somehow destroy the trebuchet that would give them the chance they need until reinforcements arrived. I figured I was far enough away from the goblins to be able to run away. I could throw a fireball or two at the trebuchet and then run back through the tunnels. I would be able to make it to the river and catchup to the women.

‘Kaiden, what do you think. Are you able to help?’

“No.”

‘If you don’t, Torg and Asha will probably die along with the village.’

“So?”

‘If they die, the goblins will come for me next. And… I need Asha’s help to restore your body. I can’t do it alone. Torg too for that matter.’

“Hmm.”

‘Come on, Kaiden. Show me what you’ve got. I’ve heard all this big talk about your skill but never-‘

“Fine. I will help. But there is a cost.”

‘Yeah, yeah. Your body. I’m on it. As soon as we-‘

“No, there is a practical cost to my magic. I need to feed on souls. On life.”

‘Well, that’s dark.’

“I don’t need your judgement; I need your word. If I help you now, you will feed me.”

I looked across at the horde below me. A living wave of green horror and noise.

‘It doesn’t have to be humans, right?’

“No. It does not.”

‘If you help me, I will feed on as many goblins as you like.’

“I have your word?”

‘You do. Now help.’

“Use the words.”

My body moved without my control, rushing to the edge of the cliff. Words I didn’t understand came flowing out of my mouth.

I raised a hand to the sky, feeling the massive mana pool of Kaiden’s reaching out. It felt like an extension to my arm, reaching out, up beyond the skies. Beyond the clouds and beyond the very earth itself. I reached out to the outer planes and gripped.

I gripped and then pulled.

Kaidens mana came rushing back, fast and hard. It felt like I had over-stretched a muscle. It tore and it burned but I felt it move. As it moved, I felt a heavy weight shift. A weight that I was holding, as if I dropped it.

Then darkness encroached. It swallowed all the light in the sky. As if a negative force entered the world and swallowed all it touched.

A wind picked up, dancing across the trees and grass. The wind turned into a howl and then into a gale.

The clouds and the sky turned crimson. The gathered crowds - goblin and human alike - calmed their actions and looked up at the skies.

A flash burned my vision. Then a horrible crack like the sound of a broken bone. The wind picked up again, lapping at my neck. It warmed, and then warmed some more.

Then a massive ray of light bled out from the skies and crashed into the centre of the green mass of goblins like a red flash of lightning. It thundered down and roared, knocking me back on my ass.

Another wave of dizziness hit me.

I tried to get back to my feet, but the strength had completely left my legs. Rolling on my stomach I crawled towards the cliff edge. The twigs and rocks on the floor tore at my skin but I continued to crawl.

“Behold, hero.”

The earth where the goblins had been gathered was now completely scorched. Anguished screams travelled across the wind that was now back to a gentle breeze. The smell of burning flesh stung at my nose. Redness of the sky started to fade, bleeding back into its original azure blue.

Thousands of green corpses littered the field below. Limbs, torsos and viscera rained down in a circular pattern from where the spell had struck. Hundreds more goblins crawled around in pain, trying to escape the scorched dark earth.

“This is why they fear me.”

The villagers seemed to be dazed. I was expecting an eruption of cheer but there was nothing. Just shock.

“This is why they follow.”

My hands trembled as I reached into my bag, grasping. It took me a few tries but eventually I found what I was looking for, a magical flare that Asha had given me to use when the women were safe.

I rolled on my back, gulped at my dry throat and fire the flare.