Extract from the -{ Tome of the ‘Forgotten One’ }- Divine scripture of the Church of the ‘Forgotten One’.

"Amidst the ruins of deception, trust in my solemn oath of restoration. I shall purify the tainted truths and unveil the brilliance of authentic light, where clarity reigns and falsehood holds no sway." (The Promise of Restoration 5:5)

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"Oops, I did it again! I played with your heart, got lost in the game~"

"Really?" Asher muttered, twisting his body to avoid a thrown knife. The blade whistled past his ear, close enough that he felt the displacement of air. "Britney Spears?" He felt Jormu and Inky shift slightly against his chest, and a spike of panic shot through him.

The goblins, oblivious to the source musical accompaniment, pressed their attack with savage determination. They moved with a coordination that belied their primitive appearance, using the darkness to their advantage. Their large, sensitive ears twitched constantly, picking up on the slightest sounds of Asher's movements.

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Gruk, his mind racing to comprehend this strange intruder, signaled silently to his brethren. With practiced ease, they split into two groups. One would keep the human distracted, while the other circled around to flank him. It was a tactic that had served them well in countless hunts, a strategy honed by generations of nocturnal predators.

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But Asher was far from average prey. The music box's enhanced spatial awareness alerted him to the goblins trying to encircle him. A grim smile played across his lips as his hand found the hilt of the Crimson Lotus.

"Flame Strike," he whispered, his voice barely audible above the pop music still playing in his ears. The katana erupted into brilliant crimson flames, casting a hellish light across the battlefield.

The sudden burst of radiance elicited shrieks of pain from the goblins, their eyes unused to such brilliance. Asher seized the moment, his flaming blade cutting through the air with deadly precision.

"I'm not that innocent~" the music box crooned, as Asher's blade found its mark. Two goblins fell in quick succession, their bodies hitting the forest floor with dull thuds.

The dancing flames cast ever-shifting shadows across the battleground, creating a disorienting interplay of light and dark. But the goblins, creatures of adaptability, were quick to turn this to their advantage. They began using the flickering shadows as cover, darting in and out of Asher's range with surprising speed.

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Gruk observed the unfolding carnage, his tactical mind racing to find a solution. This intruder defied all expectations. He seemed to possess an preternatural awareness of his surroundings, anticipating attacks even when the goblins were perfectly silent and hidden in shadow. And that flaming sword... it was a weapon straight out of their darkest nightmares.

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As if sensing the shift in the battle's tempo, the music in Asher's ears changed once again. The pop anthem faded away, replaced by a dramatic orchestral piece that sent chills down his spine.

"Dun dun dun duuuun!" The iconic opening notes of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony blared in his ears, lending an absurd gravitas to the life-and-death struggle unfolding in the shadows of the night forest.

Asher couldn't help but chuckle, even as he parried a crude spear thrust aimed at his midsection. The goblin wielding it snarled in frustration, baring yellowed fangs. "Oh, come on," Asher muttered, his voice tinged with both amusement and exasperation, "this isn't exactly the time for classical music."

The goblins, able to hear Asher's words exchanged confused glances. Was the intruder mad? What kind of warrior talked to himself in the heat of battle?

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Gruk's eyes narrowed as he saw an opportunity in the human's apparent distraction. "He's lost his mind!" he hissed to his kin, his voice carrying an undercurrent of desperate hope. "Overwhelm him now!"

At their leader's command, the goblins surged forward en masse. Crude weapons glinted in the light of Asher's flaming sword – stone knives, sharpened bones, and even bare claws, all seeking to tear the intruder apart.

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Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

But Asher was ready. He spun in a tight circle, the Crimson Lotus leaving a trail of fire in its wake. The flames licked out hungrily, catching several goblins and sending them scrambling back with agonized howls, desperately beating at their smoldering clothes.

"Dun dun dun duuuun!" The symphony continued its dramatic refrain, each note seeming to punctuate Asher's strikes with theatrical flair.

Despite the absurdity of the situation – or perhaps because of it – Asher found himself falling into a rhythm. The music, the spatial awareness granted by Infinite's Echoes, the familiar weight of the Crimson Lotus in his hand – it all coalesced into a deadly dance. He moved with fluid grace, striking where the goblins least expected, always one step ahead of their attacks.

But the night goblins were far from beaten. The perpetual darkness had honed their other senses to razor sharpness. As the battle wore on, they began to coordinate their attacks based on subtler cues – the vibrations in the ground caused by Asher's footsteps, the almost imperceptible shifts in air currents from his movements.

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Gruk, seeing the tide of battle shift, barked out a series of guttural commands. The goblins immediately changed tactics, some climbing the trees with surprising agility, others burrowing into the soft forest floor.

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Asher's spatial awareness crackled with electric intensity, his senses hyper-attuned to the forest around him. Goblins swarmed above and below, their malevolent presence pressing in from all sides. The vertical assault added a new dimension of danger, forcing Asher to constantly recalibrate his defenses.

"Well," he muttered, a wry smile playing at the corners of his mouth, "this just got interesting." The words barely left his lips when the music flowing through Infinitie's Echoes took an unexpected turn. The dramatic symphony that had been fueling his adrenaline abruptly faded, replaced by... elevator music?

"Do do do do, do do do~" The bland, inoffensive tune wafted through the air, so jarringly out of place in the life-or-death situation that Asher felt a bubble of hysteria rising in his chest.

"Seriously?" he side-eyed the levetating music box, his voice a mix of disbelief and amusement he tired to focused on the incoming threat. "This is your idea of battle music?" The absurdity of the moment threatened to overwhelm him, the urge to laugh out loud becoming almost irresistible but he did not want to die young so he supressed himself.

A flicker of movement caught the edge of Asher's enhanced perception. A goblin, seizing the opportunity presented by his momentary distraction, launched itself from an overhanging tree branch. Time seemed to slow as Asher's heightened senses registered the attack. He could almost feel the displacement of air as the goblin's knife sliced towards him.

With a fluid grace that belied the danger of the situation, Asher rolled to the side. The goblin's blade whistled past, missing his flesh by mere inches. The close call sent a jolt of adrenaline surging through Asher's veins, sharpening his focus to a razor's edge.

The elevator music continued its bland melody, creating a surreal backdrop to the intense combat. Asher found himself unconsciously timing his strikes to the insipid beat as he held on against the goblin tide coming in from all directions, his body moving in a bizarrely graceful fighting style. Each punch, kick, and dodge became part of an otherworldly dance, the juxtaposition of deadly combat and mundane music creating a cognitive dissonance that threatened to overwhelm his senses.

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From his vantage point hidden in the twisted branches of a gnarled tree, Gruk watched the unfolding battle with growing frustration. The intruder moved with an uncanny awareness of his surroundings, almost as if he had eyes in the back of his head. Every carefully planned ambush, every surprise attack, was thwarted before it could even begin.

But it wasn't just the human's preternatural reflexes that unnerved Gruk. It was the noises he made – sometimes chuckling, sometimes muttering to himself. The sound of laughter in the midst of battle sent chills down Gruk's spine. It wasn't natural. It wasn't right.

As Gruk observed the fight, his eyes narrowed, focusing on the human's flaming sword. The way the intruder moved, the way he always seemed to know where the next attack was coming from – it all centered around that weapon. The dancing flames cast flickering shadows across the forest floor, illuminating hidden goblins and revealing carefully laid traps.

"We need to blind him," Gruk realized suddenly, the epiphany striking him like a physical blow. The flaming sword was the key to the intruder's success. Without it, he'd be as blind as a newborn pup in their dark realm.

Silently, Gruk signaled to his most trusted warriors. They nodded in understanding, a spark of cruel anticipation lighting their eyes. With practiced stealth, they began to spread out, their gnarled hands gathering handfuls of the loose, sandy soil that covered patches of the forest floor.

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Asher, caught up in the bizarre rhythm of battle, failed to notice the subtle shift in tactics. His spatial awareness, enhanced by Infinitie's Echoes, showed him the goblins' movements, but not their intentions. The mind-numbing elevator music didn't help, its bland tones lulling him into a false sense of security.

Suddenly, the air was filled with a cacophony of shrill cries. Goblins attacked from all sides, but instead of weapons, they hurled handfuls of sand and dirt. The improvised projectiles arced through the air, aimed with deadly precision at Asher's eyes and his flaming sword.

Asher's enhanced awareness allowed him to dodge most of the airborne assault, his body twisting and contorting in ways that defied normal human flexibility. But even with his heightened reflexes, some of the sand found its mark. Grains of dirt stung his eyes, temporarily blinding him. More importantly, a cloud of soil smothered parts of his flaming blade, dimming its light and reducing its effectiveness.

As if sensing the shift in the battle's momentum, Infinitie's Echoes chose that moment to change its tune. The elevator music faded out, replaced by the ominous opening notes of "Jaws."

"Dun dun... dun dun..."

"Oh, now you get dramatic," Asher muttered, blinking furiously to clear his vision. The salt of his sweat mingled with the grit in his eyes, creating a burning sensation that threatened to overwhelm him.

The goblins, emboldened by the dimming of the flame sword, pressed their advantage. They swarmed towards Asher, their weapons raised for the kill. The air filled with the sound of their war cries, a cacophony of screeches and howls that sent shivers down Asher's spine.

With his physical vision impaired, Asher was forced to rely entirely on the spatial awareness provided by Infinitie's Echoes. He could "see" the goblins coming, their presence registered as pulsing points of malevolent energy in his mind's eye. But without his normal vision, judging distances and timing became exponentially more difficult.

Asher curled his body protectively around Jormu and Inky, their small forms pressed against his chest. He could feel their steady breathing, a reminder of the precious cargo he carried. Determination surged through him – he would not let any harm come to them.

As Asher fought off the last of the regular goblins, a chill ran down his spine. The music in his ears abruptly changed, shifting to an ominous, discordant melody he didn't recognize. His spatial awareness lit up with a new presence – something larger and more menacing than the goblins he'd faced so far.

From the shadows emerged a twisted figure that made Asher's stomach churn. It was a goblin, but warped and changed in ways that defied natural law. Its body was elongated, limbs stretching too far and bending at unnatural angles. Its skin was mottled with patches of fungus-like growth, pulsing and undulating with a life of their own. In one gnarled hand, it clutched a staff made of twisted wood and bones, the macabre craftsmanship a testament to its dark powers.

"Intruder," it hissed, its voice a raspy whisper that seemed to echo not just in the air, but directly in Asher's mind. "You dare disturb our realm?" The words carried a weight of malevolence that made Asher's skin crawl.

Asher's eyes widened as realization dawned on him. "A shaman," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Winston warned me about mutations, but this…

Asher was unable to find words to describe the abomination before him.

The goblin shaman's eyes glowed with an eerie light, pinpricks of sickly green that seemed to bore into Asher's soul. It raised its staff, and the air around it shimmered with malevolent energy. The very atmosphere seemed to thicken, making it difficult for Asher to breathe.

"You will join us in the darkness," the shaman croaked, its words carrying the promise of a fate worse than death.