The Eldritch Truth is being discovered.

How he knew not, but Goblins could connect to Great Ones. Or at least, the shamans can. Even now, the one he had just killed was spewing eldritch nonsense, of which only he understood. Such knowledge should die with him.

Fortunately, he found and silenced this nest that had done so, but there was no telling what the other nests were doing. Since he knew not where their nests were, he had to find them randomly. Beast senses helped here, but even the ability to smell blood, of which goblins surrounded themselves with, couldn't help in this expansive land he found himself in.

The nest was deep within a cave. The cave mouth, a single path toward the end, and all the holes for the goblins to climb in and out to ambush those who couldn't see in the dark. Beast senses allowed him to do this, so the holes were just points he would walk past and slaughter any goblins who attempted to leave them, which he then proceeded to cover with rocks by smashing the stone above the hole, just in case.

He has been lucky so far, to catch them before they did any real damage to humanity. A few women and villages, although a terrible loss, could be fixed within a few generations, while goblins infused with the Truth could very well mean the end of everything, including goblins.

Of course, now came the hardest part of clearing a goblin nest.

The captured girls.

He'd cleared a few nests, but there were no survivors. Some were still alive, but too far injured to survive any longer than a few minutes. He made sure to put them out of their misery.

Thankfully, this time there were only three of them. But it appears they have been here a while.

Hunter approached the chained down women, all of whom were at least unconscious. Dead goblin parts were scattered around them from when he... disposed of them.

One was very clearly dead, her stomach sliced open and her head attached by a very small mass of flesh. She looked no older than her twenties.

The other two were younger and still alive, almost certainly still teens. They were both alive, he could sense it.

One had short ashen grey hair, including her pubic hair, strangely enough. She was rather... large for one so young. She had blood on her face, recent enough to be from his skirmish. Glances revealed a goblin torso, stripped of all appendages, was laying nearby. Perhaps it hit her.

The other was much smaller, with long purple hair. She was clean-shaven everywhere, though it seemed she was too young for such things.

However, they would surely be pregnant with goblin seed. He could fix that.

He placed a hand over their wombs, sending a surge of Arcane.

In the back of his mind, he heard the screaming as millions of unborn goblin children were annihilated in an instant.

There. Maybe some damage, but better than nothing, the power is not perfect after all.

Thankfully, he had a carriage he procured from a slain nest, so transportation was not an issue. It would be a tight squeeze with the cargo he had looted from cleared nests, but it would work.

First, however.

Next to the women, hidden behind some rocks, was a wooden door. The Hunter kicked it open and was shocked. How had they bred so many?

Seemingly two dozen goblin children were there, some fresh-born and others not. They all screamed and cried at him when they saw the intimidating visage of him.

Good, as these monsters should.

He took no small pleasure in that.

He took no small pleasure in how they screamed louder as he grabbed one out in his hand, the little green meat-bag batting its fists against his hand.

CRUNCH

Goblin children never had much meat, not much blood. But it was the only food he could eat.

This one was no longer worth the effort, but there were more and they had more meat.

It took a few minutes, but he finished the meal.

He only discovered the children in the first nest by accident. A thrown larger goblin shattered the door they used to cover them.

Now, for the victims.

He tore the chains apart with his hands, then carried one over each shoulder. The cave was deep.

He passed the fatter goblins easily. These needed more damage, but mauling always kills, especially when a Beast does it.

The cave mouth was within sight.

What was there surprised him.

A man.

Wearing mail and leather, with a buckler and short-sword. He was waiting at the mouth, looking down at all the gore and viscera of the dead goblins he'd lured out before he went in.

His walking alerted the stranger, who stared at him as he approached.

"You killed them?" The man asked. Hunter nodded, then walked past him and rested both girls on the bed of the carriage. He had to manoeuvre some supplies out of the way and grabbed a large blanket he had procured from a dead person for both of them to cover themselves.

"Children too," Hunter replied.

"I see." The man looked into the mouth of the cave. "I was here to kill goblins for a quest."

"Well, sorry for stealing your kills I suppose." The Hunter lay a blanket each over both girls. "You need a ride back to town?"

"That would be appreciated." The man nodded, before climbing onto the front of the carriage. "Where are the horses?"

"No need." The Hunter replied. He fastened the girls together to the back of the carriage and hopped down. He went to the front and fastened the harness around himself. "Which way?"

The man stared down at him.

"Left. Follow the road all the way." The man replied.

"Very well." The Hunter began to run. The carriage followed easily and came into a quick speed. "Your name?" He had to be a little louder over the wind.

"Goblin Slayer." Goblin Slayer replied.

"I'm Hunter," Hunter replied. What a strange name. Of course, he'd long since forgotten his actual name. "Keep an eye on the girls."

"Ok." Goblin Slayer nodded.

Minutes later...

Assassin Girl stirred before she looked through barely-open eyes.

She expected to see them still staring down at her, their little cocks penetrating her and Archer Girl. Their laughter and lust.

Instead, an armoured head stared back at her, backed by the sky moving.

"Hello." The man said. "You're no longer in the cave with the goblins, they are all dead."

Assassin Girl couldn't believe that. This must be some trick, made by the shaman. Any moment now, a green dick will slap her face again. She was too smart for this.

"Do you want some water?" He asked.

'No, I won't open my mouth for you, you green fuck! Just jerk your little dick and go die!' She thought.

She wanted to scream, but her throat was dry. She refused to open it, but Archer Girl was not so tough, and they used that hole too. Gods, what did they do to deserve this?

"Do you want to talk with the man who saved you?" The man tried. She just glared at him. He moved away.

She didn't have the strength to get up. She would've liked to try to run, try her chances.

Then his head came into view. Blood dripped down from his hood, but she weathered the drops on her body.

She knew. It had to be him.

She remembered.

All the prayers they made for those that died.

Now? She had no prayers. Only burning, seething hatred.

And she was glad.

Something had come.

No angel in her time of need, but a devil.

This devil ate flesh and shredded with claws.

She saw it, the horrendous thing leaping from goblin to goblin, shredding flesh and biting chunks off their heads and necks.

Even hobgoblins were but bigger meals, the strength of the beast mind-boggling as he tossed the hobgoblins around like toys.

'Devil, Satan, whoever sent this monster, I thank you.'

Of course, even the shaman tried, but spells were useless if they couldn't hit, and evisceration was the only thing he got.

Good. This genocide should be extended to all these fucking goblins.

She was knocked out by a flying body in the massacre. Archer Girl was already unconscious.

"It's... You." She rasped out. She placed a hand on his face in reverence. The blood coating it was smeared all over her palm, though she didn't care. He smiled down at her, teeth and mouth immaculate, a far cry from the gore that he had swallowed.

"Come on, you should drink something." He held out a waterskin, and she grabbed it, downing the contents. The water made her throat much better, and she dropped the skin after a few seconds, breathing heavily.

Hunter...

A sad little girl. She looked up at him with such love and desire. He must have looked like some sort of god to her.

"You saved us." She muttered, still staring at him.

"Of course I did, but let's get you two somewhere safer than the outdoors." He said, and he scooped her up.

She cuddled against him, still wrapped in the blanket he gave her, staring up at him as he stepped down from his carriage.

Goblin Slayer showed him the organisation for women like her, who took care of them and tried to help the trauma.

He was sad that there was a need for such a building.

Two women, priestesses by the look of it, approached him. One had black hair and red eyes, the other green eyes and brown hair.

"Is this one of the victims?" They asked. He nodded, then set her on her feet. The woman stumbled a little but stayed up on her own.

"Go with them, they will help you." He gestured to the two. The woman looked at them, then glared. She clung to his coat, burying her face in his chest.

"Don't leave me." She mumbled. He sighed. The two priestesses smiled sadly.

"It is common for victims to cling to their saviours, don't worry." One stepped forward and placed a hand on the woman's shoulder. "Please, come with us."

The woman angrily shoved the ladies' hand of her shoulder and still clung to the Hunter.

The Hunter held her head in his hands and made her look at him. Her eyes were filled with hope as they stared into his own.

"Please, this is for your own good. I hope you understand." He stated, then pulsed Arcane into her mind. She slumped against him, asleep. The two priestesses held her up.

"Thank you, sir." They bowed, then carefully picked up and took the sleeping woman inside the tavern-like building.

Hunter returned to the carriage, seeing the other girl sat up and staring at him. With the blanket covering her, thankfully.

"Who's there?" She whispered, fearfully.

"Just me. I saved you from the goblins." Hunter replied, kneeling in front of her. The woman continued to stare past him.

"I can't... I can't see." The woman looked everywhere. "I can't see anything. I can't see you."

"It's okay. I'm just glad you're still alive." Hunter replied. "I'm going to pick you up now, I'll take you to people who can heal you."

She stayed silent.

He picked her up in a bridal carry and stepped down from the carriage.

A priestess, older than the other two, awaited this one. She had wrinkles, grey hair and dulled brown eyes.

"Is she okay to walk?" She asked. He nodded.

"She seems to have been blinded by the trauma." He replied. The priestess looked down at the girl with motherly sadness.

He turned to the girl in his arms who kept staring off into the distance, limply letting him carry her.

"I'm going to set you down now." She nodded slightly. He set her on her feet. She stood there, surprisingly stable. However, she reached out and grabbed his coat.

He stayed silent as her hands travelled up to his face. Her hands ran over his cheeks and forehead.

"What is your name?" She asked. He looked down at her.

"I am Hunter." He replied. She smiled.

"I will remember you." She vowed. "I will find you after I am better."

"I wish you the best." He muttered. She smiled, and let go.

"Come with me dear, I'll help you along." The older priestess held the blind woman's hand and led her toward the building.

Hunter watched them go before he got into his carriage harness.

He took it for a jog away from prying eyes. Namely, behind some sort of ditch. He released the harness and climbed into the back.

As his eyes closed, the bells rang as he entered the Dream.

...

It wasn't often he came back here.

The landscape had changed to its original form since he defeated the Moon Presence.

He went up the steps into the workshop, toward the storage chest.

For Goblins, a fast, sweeping weapon is best. For the bigger ones, a pinpoint striker that could withstand punishment.

The Saw Spear and the Rifle Spear would work well. However, he would have to rely on his stockpile of ammo. He had a lot of ammo, but he would never find more.

This narrowed down his gun choices.

However, precision is not important. Often, goblins would charge in swarms. Since shooting at a mass of targets isn't hard, perhaps speed was more important.

The Gatling Gun could tear through a horde of goblins with ease, but it would chew through his ammo amount. He could make more bullets out of his blood, but then he would be tapping into his supply of Blood Vials, which were more important than bullets.

Of course, he could switch to normal, lead bullets, but they were massively less effective than quicksilver bullets. Perhaps he should begin construction of regular lead bullets, for when his quicksilver ones ran out. Thankfully, he knew how to make them, but first, he would need sufficient tools.

Gatling Gun and, when explosives were needed, a Cannon. His ranged options were severely limited, should he come against singular foes, but they were perfect for his planned genocide of the goblins. He would need to only use them in situations he couldn't handle effectively in melee, which although few thanks to his power, it never hurt to be prepared for.

"Good Hunter."

In all the conflict, he'd forgotten about the Doll.

"Hello, Doll." He turned and nodded at her. The Doll bowed slightly back.

The Doll had always been a great companion. Although his relationship with Gehrman was... dubious at best, the Doll was an ever-present light of kindness.

Funny, Hunters were reviled by everything except each others, and the Hunt had begun to change even that, so the thought of the Doll, who was almost definitely alive, perhaps more so than the Beasts, loving Hunters had originally been a welcome reprieve for him.

When he first signed the contract and arrived in the Dream, after having been beaten to death by Yharnamites, he was a lonely, friendless veteran that had caught some sort of disease that was seemingly incurable. He'd come to Yharnam as a last resort.

The Doll had been his first friend since that day. It never was strange that he had befriended a living doll, but perhaps, the Doll, which imitated life, enjoyed and loved more than those who were flesh and bone.

He knew that, if the Doll was any less omnibenevolent, he would've long since fallen to the Beast plague.

"You seem troubled, Good Hunter." The Doll tilted her head, hands clasped together in front of her dress.

"The Waking World is in trouble." Hunter sighed. "Strange little green Beasts, called goblins, are trying to contact Great Ones."

The Doll said nothing, reaching and taking Hunters hand in her own.

"You are strong, Good Hunter. You will stop them." The Doll smiled. Hunter looked down, a little overwhelmed by the praise. A light blush dusted his cheeks.

It would be a lie if he didn't call the Doll his mother figure, and to hear such brazen praise made him slightly embarrassed and giddy.

He'd never let the Doll know that, just in case.

"Thank you, Doll." He removed the Dolls hands from his own. "I must return. I have no time to waste." The Hunters eyes closed. The soft ringing of bells accompanied him as his body slow dematerialised.

Before he fully awoke, the sensations of a hand on his head, even through the hood he wore, made him smile.

Always loving, even to a monster like himself.

My first story, after a long time of lurking.

Do kindly review on anything you think would improve the story or the flow of the fic. Any reviews that are constructive are appreciated.