Remi surged forward, a blur of cyan lightning and tendrils, their body twisting and contorting through the air like a nightmare made flesh. Their four tendrils shot out from their back, latching onto the stone walls, dragging their body forward in an unnatural, spider-like gait, far faster than the goblins could comprehend.
The air crackled with electricity as their katana, now glowing with blinding cyan energy, charged up to the point of overflowing.
In one fluid motion, Remi slashed their blade out in front of them, unleashing a torrent of cyan lightning that split the air with a deafening crack. The energy arced forward, exploding into the first line of goblins with an earth-shattering roar.
Twenty goblins were instantly vaporized— bodies torn asunder in an eruption of blood, ash, and gore, their limbs and organs scattering across the sandstone floor like grotesque confetti.
The lightning leapt from corpse to corpse, racing through the ranks, sending goblins and hobgoblins alike flying in every direction. The corridor lit up like a violent storm, each arc of electricity striking with devastating power, leaving behind nothing but charred, mangled remains.
Panic set in. The goblins screamed in terror, scrambling over each other, trying to flee, but the lightning coursing through their ranks made any sense of order impossible.
Those not struck directly were hit by flying body parts or slammed into walls as the chaos spread. Hobgoblins, normally towering and imposing, crumbled under the onslaught, their crude weapons falling from their hands as they tried to shield themselves from the oncoming slaughter.
Amidst the chaos, a hidden trap activated— poisonous darts shot out from the walls, aiming directly at Remi. They hissed through the air and struck true, embedding themselves into their skin.
But instead of falling, Remi laughed— a crazed, unhinged sound. The darts dissolved upon contact with their slime anatomy, the poison and metal tips alike melting into nothingness. The remains of the darts clattered uselessly to the sandstone floor, little more than empty shells.
"Your little toys won't save you!" Remi sneered, their voice dripping with sadistic glee. "Fight me, you fuckin' cowards!"
The fear in the goblins' eyes was palpable, and it only made Remi's grin widen. They darted forward again, their tendrils whipping out like lethal snakes. The two front tendrils plunged into a cluster of goblins, impaling them with horrifying ease.
Blood spurted from their pierced bodies, staining the stone floor as the tendrils twisted and turned, tearing through organs and snapping bones with sickening cracks. The goblins writhed on the ends of the tendrils like broken marionettes, their screams choked off as Remi hoisted them up into the air, relishing their agony.
With a single flick, Remi flung the corpses aside, their lifeless bodies slamming into the walls with wet thuds, leaving streaks of blood and entrails in their wake.
"Die, die, die— DIE FOR ME, HAHA, HA HA!" Remi taunted as they maneuvered through the horde with terrifying speed. The tendrils lifted them above the scrambling goblins, allowing them to dart from wall to wall, each movement punctuated by slashes of their katana and bursts of cyan lightning.
Every strike was precise, every attack leaving more goblins in pieces, their heads rolling across the ground, limbs severed and tossed into the air.
The cyan lightning never ceased. It sparked from Remi's blade, each arc hitting clusters of goblins with surgical precision. Organs exploded from their bodies, their skin charred and burning as the bolts found their marks, sending showers of blood into the air.
Remi's laughter echoed through the stone corridor, a deranged and gleeful sound that only added to the nightmarish scene unfolding around them.
One goblin, barely clinging to life, tried to crawl away, dragging itself through the pools of blood and flesh. Remi's tendril shot out, piercing through its back with a sickening squelch. They lifted the goblin high into the air, watching as its eyes bulged with terror before tightening their grip. The goblin's body twitched violently before bursting apart— viscera and entrails spraying across the walls in a shower of gore.
"Juicy!" Remi laughed, licking their lips as they spun their katana, flicking off the blood. Their tendrils writhed and lashed around them, searching for more victims as the goblins' formation crumbled completely.
The remaining hobgoblins tried to hold their ground, their shields raised, but Remi was relentless. The tendrils whipped out again, knocking shields aside, allowing their katana to strike with blinding speed.
One hobgoblin, clutching a steel sword, swung desperately, but Remi sidestepped effortlessly, their tendril wrapping around the creature's throat and lifting it off the ground. They grinned as they twisted their katana, sending a bolt of cyan lightning straight through the hobgoblin's chest, watching as it convulsed violently before its body exploded into charred pieces.
Remi's yellow eyes gleamed with unhinged joy as they danced through the carnage, their tendrils slashing and stabbing with savage precision. Each kill brought a fresh spray of blood, each attack leaving behind mutilated, broken bodies. The corridor had become a slaughterhouse, and Remi was the butcher, their sadistic glee palpable in every movement.
This wasn't just a battle for them. It was ecstasy.
Goblin Slayer leaped out from behind them— his tomahawk raised as Remi's tendrils cleared a gruesome path for him, skewering goblins and throwing their mangled bodies aside like ragdolls.
The two cyan tendrils then shot up and shielded the teen from a volley of arrows— the metallic tips clinking harmlessly against Remi's slime anatomy, dissolving upon contact.
When the tendrils pulled away, Goblin Slayer shot forward, crimson lightning trailing behind him, his left eye glowing with a manic intensity that flashed like a strobe.
His body surged with raw power, enhanced by the magic running through his veins. And his heart raced, and every nerve in his body felt alive, humming with energy as he dove headfirst into the chaos.
"Two-hundred and three," he muttered under his breath as his tomahawk cleaved through the first hobgoblin, the weapon cutting through the steel shield like butter, shattering bone and armor alike. The hobgoblin's torso split open, smoldering as the crimson lightning singed the edges of the wound. Goblin Slayer wrenched the tomahawk free, splattering blood as he kicked the dismembered body aside.
With one clean swing, he slashed the air horizontally, sending out a crescent shockwave of crackling crimson energy. The wave tore through the ranks of retreating goblins and hobgoblins, slicing them in half mid-scream. Bodies hit the floor in blood-soaked heaps, limbs and heads severed from torsos, blood spilling across the stone as the retreat turned into a massacre.
Rows upon rows of goblins trampled over one another, their fear palpable, but it didn't matter. Goblin Slayer's tomahawk carved through them like a farmer harvesting wheat, each strike measured, each kill deliberate.
"Two-hundred and forty," Goblin Slayer whispered, his left eye glowing brighter, pulsing with each life he ended. His senses were heightened beyond anything he'd experienced before—he could feel every movement, every breath of his enemies.
Time seemed to slow as he sidestepped incoming attacks, dodging with pinpoint accuracy. His tomahawk was an extension of his body, cleaving through goblin after goblin, their shields useless against the power coursing through him.
Remi was right beside him, their tendrils impaling goblins left and right, sending bursts of cyan lightning through the chaos. The two of them moved in sync, as if they had been fighting together for years. Goblin Slayer felt the surge of battle-hardened rhythm, the perfect balance between them as they tore through the goblin defenses.
Another wave of hobgoblins charged forward, their steel weapons glinting in the flickering lightning storm. Goblin Slayer slashed the air again, sending out another crescent wave of energy, bisecting them at the waist before they even had a chance to raise their swords. Blood sprayed across the stone walls as the bodies collapsed, twitching, torn apart by the sheer force of the strike.
"Two-hundred and sixty-five," he grunted, satisfaction creeping into his voice.
They reached a fork in the hallway, the pyramid's narrow corridors stretching before them. One path ascended upward toward the peak, the other descended into the bowels of the pyramid, where the ancient structures hid their darkest secrets. Goblin Slayer's eyes darted between the two, his blood still surging with the urge to kill, his body vibrating with the energy that pulsed through his veins.
"Split up," Goblin Slayer commanded, his voice sharp and focused. "You take the lower levels. I'll clear out the top."
Remi gave him a twisted grin, cyan lightning crackling at the edges of their mouth. "See you, Space Cowboy," they said, licking their lips as they disappeared down the descending hallway, tendrils snaking behind them.
Goblin Slayer didn't wait. He turned and charged up the ascending hallway, the walls narrowing as they spiraled upward toward the pyramid's peak. The air was thick with dust and the smell of blood, but his heart was racing in overdrive. Every step felt lighter, faster. He could feel the weight of the crimson lightning coursing through his muscles, pushing him to his limit but never letting him falter.
The goblins above sensed his approach, but they were already doomed.
The ascension hallway was a choke-hold—a perfect place for slaughter. Goblin Slayer slashed the air in front of him, sending another arc of crimson lightning upward. The shockwave cut through the first wave of goblins, bodies exploding into burning fragments as their organs were seared by the sheer heat. His count jumped with each wave, his glowing red eye catching every movement, every twitch of their frightened faces.
"Two-hundred and ninety..." Goblin Slayer whispered to himself, leaping up the narrow walls, bouncing from side to side. He dodged arrows as they zipped past him, every movement fluid, every dodge effortless. The hobgoblins barely had time to raise their weapons before his tomahawk was buried in their skulls, cracking bone and slicing through their brains.
He stomped down on a goblin's skull, the force of the blow caving it in with a wet crunch, blood and grey matter splattering up the walls as his count climbed higher.
"Three-hundred and twenty," he muttered, feeling the euphoric rush of power as he swung his tomahawk in a wide arc, decapitating two goblins at once. Their heads bounced down the steps, rolling into the chaos below.
The hallway was steep, but it didn't slow him down. Goblin Slayer's heart beat like a war drum, adrenaline mixing with the magic that surged through his veins. He felt invincible, his body propelled by pure, unadulterated power.
He bounced off the walls again, his tomahawk finding purchase in the skull of a hobgoblin trying to shield itself with a steel shield. The blade cleaved through both, splitting the hobgoblin in half as Goblin Slayer kicked its bisected body down the steps, sending it tumbling into the mass of goblins below.
"Three-hundred and sixty," he hissed, his voice a low growl.
By the time he reached the top of the ascension hallway, the ground beneath him was slick with blood, the walls painted with the remnants of the creatures he had slaughtered. His tomahawk was dripping with gore, his armor stained with crimson, and his glowing red eye scanned the top level.
Standing atop the pyramid, Goblin Slayer reached down and grabbed the head of the final hobgoblin—a massive creature that had tried and failed to stand against him. He lifted it high, his left eye glowing with a hellish crimson light as he crushed the skull in his grip. Bone splintered, blood gushed, and the hobgoblin's face caved in under the pressure.
He tossed the remains aside, his body still sparking with red lightning, and turned to the empty sky.
"Four-hundred and twelve," he muttered, a sadistic smirk forming under his helmet.
Goblin Slayer slowed his pace as he entered the grand gallery, the air thick with the weight of history. The sandstone walls were adorned with intricate hieroglyphics, telling stories of long-forgotten dynasties and gods, their figures twisted in ancient rites.
Tattered Muhattian tapestries hung loosely from the walls, faded but still regal in their depiction of battles and victories, the threads gleaming faintly in the low light of the flickering torches.
Ebony and gold urns were meticulously arranged on ivory pedestals, their craftsmanship impeccable, each one worth more than the entire any rewards he would have gotten from the Adventurers' Guild.
Pedestals of solid gold, stacked with bars of treasure, glimmered under the ambient torchlight, casting a warm glow that danced over the vast riches of the room. Goblin Slayer's eyes flicked over the treasure briefly, calculating their worth.
'Enough to build a stronghold... A well-funded guild,' he thought— his fingers trailing the lip of a gold urn. The weight of the fortune in this room could fund a lifetime of expeditions.
One urn rattled as he lifted the lid. A terrified goblin, eyes wide and bloodshot, scrambled within, desperately hoping to escape his notice. Goblin Slayer didn't hesitate— he gripped the creature's neck, twisting with casual indifference until he felt the snap of bone.
'Four-hundred and fourteen.'
The goblin's body went limp in his hands, and he tossed it aside like refuse, already focused on the next urn. The death was a chore, an afterthought. His mind was elsewhere.
'Remi…' He mused, sliding another urn open and finding more riches beneath the lid. He had never considered anyone more than a passing ally, but Remi— Remi was different.
A companion of unmatched power, their abilities were not just useful but essential. With them providing buffs, Goblin Slayer could clear entire armies with the same ease he was slaughtering these goblins now.
Another urn. Another terrified goblin.
Snap. Toss.
'Four-hundred and fifteen.'
Barely worth the effort to look at them. His thoughts remained on the guild.
He approached the final urn and paused. The goblin inside was whimpering, its small body quivering as it rose shakily to its feet, hands raised in a gesture of surrender. "Mercy," it choked out in broken Common, "Please... Mercy..."
Goblin Slayer tilted his head, staring at the creature with cold detachment. But the moment stretched too long. The goblin's fear twisted into desperation, and it lunged forward with a poisoned dagger, aiming directly at his throat.
Goblin Slayer caught the creature's wrist mid-strike, his grip tightening with a crack. The goblin screeched, but the sound was cut short as Goblin Slayer ripped the arm clean off in one brutal motion, blood spraying the urn and the floor. He watched the creature writhe, throwing it onto a pile of discarded bodies without another thought.
He took a few steps back, steadying himself. Then, with a quick inhale, he surged forward, kicking the goblin's head clean off its shoulders. Blood erupted in all directions, and the severed head rocketed across the room, smashing against the sandstone wall with a sickening thud.
Goblin Slayer's body crackled with crimson lightning, his eye blazing brightly as he moved onward, his tomahawk still gripped tightly in his hand. Each step he took left faint scorch marks on the sandstone, the magic coursing through him like an electric storm barely contained beneath his armor.
'Four-hundred and sixteen.'
The next chamber he entered was even grander than the last. It was well-lit, ancient candelabras and golden chandeliers casting a radiant glow over piles of riches that lined the room. Mountains of gold coins spilled across the floor, jeweled scepters and crowns half-buried among the wealth. At the far end, perched on a raised dais, stood a massive golden sarcophagus, adorned with inscriptions and symbols Goblin Slayer didn't care to read.
As his armored boots clinked against the golden floor, his instincts flared. He crouched low, his muscles tensing just as the sarcophagus exploded in a cloud of gold and debris. Shards of the enchanted stone flew at him, but he rolled to the side with practiced precision, dodging the deadly shrapnel as it embedded itself into the walls.
When the dust settled, a figure floated where the sarcophagus once stood. She was wrapped tightly in ancient bandages, her shapely form barely concealed beneath the layers of linen. Her eyes glowed an eerie emerald green, burning with an unnatural fire.
Black and purple flames formed a swirling circle around her— licking at the air as she rose a few feet above the floor, her gaze locked onto Goblin Slayer.
"I am Pharaoh," she said, her voice carrying the weight of eons, each syllable dripping with authority and an ancient accent. "You dare intrude upon my sanctum, defiler."
Goblin Slayer rose up to his feet— his tomahawk in hand, the crimson lightning sparking violently around his body. He eyed the floating mummy with cold, calculating precision, taking in every detail— the fire, the levitation, the glowing eyes.
"… You're in my way," he said flatly, his voice devoid of fear or respect, his left eye glowing brighter beneath his helmet.
The tension in the chamber thickened as Goblin Slayer and the Pharaoh stood locked in place, like two duelists waiting for the signal to strike.
The Pharaoh, her levitating form wrapped in age-old bandages, held her twin khopesh blades, each flickering with dark-burning flames.
The teen's grip tightened on his tomahawk— his crimson eye burning beneath his helmet, the lightning around him crackling as his heightened senses scanned her every move.
In the blink of an eye, her glowing emerald eyes flashed— a telltale sign of her attack. Time seemed to slow for Goblin Slayer as his newly acquired abilities kicked in, granting him a full 360-degree perception.
The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning— his awareness extended far beyond the scope of his normal vision, an eerie clarity washing over him. His body moved before his mind had even registered it, leaping upward at an impossible angle toward the ten-meter-high ceiling.
The floor below erupted in a tower of black flames, the heat searing the air as the Pharaoh attempted to catch him off guard. Goblin Slayer narrowly dodged the inferno— his spatial awareness guiding him as he flipped mid-air, using the ceiling to propel himself forward.
But the Pharaoh was fast— faster than he had anticipated. Black flames surged from her bandaged feet as she flew up toward him, her eyes burning brighter than ever. Her twin khopesh blades slashed out, the arcs of her swings leaving trails of dark fire in the air.
Goblin Slayer raised his tomahawk just in time, catching her blade with a parry, but the impact sent him flying across the chamber— slamming into the sandstone wall with bone-rattling force.
His body ached from the collision, but he pushed the pain aside, rolling down the wall and landing back on his feet. Just in time— another blast of shadow fire surged from the Pharaoh's blades, aimed to incinerate him.
He dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the blast as it scorched the ground where he once stood.
The Pharaoh hovered above him— her emerald eyes gleaming with malevolent intent. From above, she rained down a barrage of black fire— each beam like a dark sunbeam cutting through the chamber.
Goblin Slayer sprinted across the chamber— his boots kicking up dust and debris, the blackened flames trailing dangerously close behind him.
His mind raced. He gripped his tomahawk tighter, focusing his energy, feeling the lightning inside him surge with fury. Timing his move, he leapt high over a sweeping beam of fire and, in mid-air, slashed the space before him.
A crimson crescent-shaped shockwave launched from his tomahawk— cutting through the air with deadly precision, heading straight for the Pharaoh.
Just as he thought he had her, she vanished— teleporting away in a flash of shadow fire. The projectile smashed into the golden chandeliers overhead, causing them to explode into molten shrapnel, which rained down over the treasure-laden room.
Goblin Slayer spun on his heel just as the Pharaoh reappeared behind him— her dark flames burning brighter. She came at him with a flurry of strikes, her khopesh blades cutting the air with deadly force.
He barely dodged each one— his enhanced perception allowing him to side-step her attacks with lightning speed. But every time he moved, she teleported again, striking from a different angle— each strike faster than the last.
He could feel her closing in, the random teleportation patterns making it impossible to predict where she'd land next.
One wrong move, and she'd have him.
Goblin Slayer's mind raced. He had to act— now. His eyes flicked to the next incoming strike, and he twisted his tomahawk, hooking the back of her right khopesh blade with the head of his weapon.
The dark flames seared through the orichalum metal, and Goblin Slayer gritted his teeth as his hand burned from the heat— the pain shooting up his arm like molten lava. But his defense buff held. The crimson lightning surrounding his body burned brighter, intensifying as he pulled the blade from her hand.
In one fluid motion, Goblin Slayer swung the stolen khopesh toward her— the searing shadow flames leaving a trail in the air. The Pharaoh met the strike with her remaining blade, and the collision of shadow fire caused a violent explosion between them.
The force sent Goblin Slayer skidding back, his armor smoking, but he remained focused— he knew her next move.
As the blast cleared, the teen leapt upward— coated in black fire and crimson lightning, anticipating the Pharaoh's next move. His eye blazed with crimson light as he arced through the air— his tomahawk raised high. He saw her appear just as he predicted, her form shimmering into existence in a burst of shadow fire.
With a savage swing, his tomahawk connected with her chest, the force of the strike sending her wide-eyed as he tackled her upward, using all of his momentum to drive her toward the ceiling. The Pharaoh let out an ethereal scream, her glowing emerald eyes filled with shock and pain.
Goblin Slayer's tomahawk blurred as he slashed again and again— each strike carving deep into her chest, the dark flames of her body splintering with every hit. His movements were a frenzy of violence, rapid and precise— tearing through her ancient bandages and flesh like they were paper. Her body shook violently under the relentless assault, the black fire around her flickering with each strike.
By the final swing, the Pharaoh let out a scream that echoed through the chamber— her entire body glowing with a brilliant emerald light. With one last desperate surge of power, she exploded into a cloud of dust— her ancient bandages shredding into ribbons that floated down like beige confetti.
Goblin Slayer landed on one knee, rolling forward and extinguishing the lingering shadow flames that still clung to his armor. His breath was heavy, his heart pounding in his chest as the remains of the Pharaoh drifted down around him. Torn bandages and the ashy remains of her form settled onto the golden floor, the room now silent except for the crackle of dying flames.
He slowly rose to his feet, his tomahawk still in hand, crimson lightning flickering faintly around him. The Pharaoh was gone, reduced to nothing but dust and memories.
'Four-hundred and seventeen.'
The echo of footsteps broke the heavy silence in the chamber as Remi strolled in from the entrance, their cyan tendrils disintegrating behind them, vanishing into nothingness. Their body was drenched in gore— blood spattered across their face, chunks of brain matter smeared on their arms, and viscera clinging to their cropped shirt like trophies.
Despite the carnage coating them, Remi's yellow eyes gleamed with an almost casual glow, and their face was fixed in a relaxed, nonchalant expression. In their hand dangled a limbless goblin, twitching and whimpering weakly.
Remi's voice cut through the still air. "What'd I miss, Old Sport?" they asked with a lazy smirk before lifting the goblin to their mouth. Without hesitation, they sank their sharp teeth into its face.
The goblin's screams were short-lived as its skin melted under the acidic touch of Remi's saliva. Their teeth bit through flesh and bone alike, the skull cracking audibly as Remi tore off its face with ease. Brains spilled from the gaping wound, leaking down their wrist, the tongue flopping lifelessly from the half-torn jaw.
To Remi, it was just another bite, as casual as if they were eating an apple. The goblin's twitching stopped as they took another savage bite, slurping up the remaining brain matter before casually tossing the mangled corpse aside. They licked their lips, satisfied, the blood still warm on their skin.
'Four-hundred and eighteen...'
Goblin Slayer stared, wordlessly, the crimson lightning beginning to dissipate from his form, sizzling away as his body cooled down. His left eye, still faintly glowing as the light slowly dimmed away— his stare fixated on Remi, as they took another slow bite, completely at ease in the grotesque scene.
"Any captives?" Goblin Slayer finally asked, his voice cutting through the quiet.
Remi, still chewing, gave a thumbs up with a grin, pointing proudly to themselves. "Already freed them," they said, licking the last remnants of the goblin's face from their lips. "Double-checked every inch of this place too. Nothing left but scraps."
Goblin Slayer nodded, but then asked, "How many goblins did you kill?"
Remi shrugged with a nonchalant grin. "A lot. Wasn't keeping count, though." They flicked their wrist, blood splattering off.
The response caused Goblin Slayer's brow to twitch in mild annoyance, but he was too relaxed, too content from the raid to let it bother him. He let out a small breath of satisfaction, the weight of their victory settling in. His hands lifted slowly to his helmet, and with a quiet metallic scrape, he began to pull it off, revealing disheveled hair slicked with sweat— his features, worn and rugged, and were flushed slightly red.
Remi, intrigued, raised a brow and asked with a teasing tone, "Are we about to have a tender moment or something?"
Goblin Slayer hesitated, his fingers tapping nervously against the side of his helmet. "I...I'm planning on heading to Crossbell soon. I'm going there to get guidance on how to run my own guild," he started, his words coming out slowly, awkwardly, as if rehearsed. Then, with a deep, anxious breath, his face flushed a deeper red, and he muttered, "And… I-I want you... To be part of that."
Remi grinned, their eyes twinkling with amusement. "Oh? Are you asking me to go steady?" Their voice was dripping with teasing mischief, their grin widening.
Goblin Slayer's face grew even redder. "Y-yes," he stammered, awkwardly avoiding their gaze. "I... Need you."
For a moment, Remi stood there, arms crossed over their chest, pretending to give it thought. They tapped their finger against their chin, their bloodied lips quirking upward. Finally, they shrugged their slender shoulders casually.
"Sure," they said, already grinning as if they'd known the answer from the start. "I'll be your second in command. Highest position, of course."
Goblin Slayer let out a rare smile, soft and full of relief. He lowered his head slightly, whispering, "Thank you."
Remi gave him a playful punch on the arm. "You're welcome." They started heading toward the exit, throwing a casual wave over their shoulder. "And hey," they called back with a mischievous smirk. "Guess that means we're gay now, huh Sportsy?"
Goblin Slayer, helmet back in place, chuckled under his breath. The chamber, now littered with the remains of their enemies, echoed with their victory as they headed out together— bound by bloodshed and an unspoken understanding.
