So there it was.
The end of Goblin Slayer.
The job was simple, hunting down goblins in a crypt. Estimation - sixteen to eighteen, led by a hobgoblin. No villagers had been taken back to their den yet, that meant he could use whatever methods needed to eliminate them. He began by making his way towards their dungeon, and the entrance was rather visible. It was a ruined archway with cracks forming a fractured web, but the goblins only saw fit to put one of their kind to guard the entrance.
With a draw of his bow, he let loose an arrow that pierced its throat and pinned it to the wall behind it.
"One." Picking up the goblin's dropped club, he began to make his way deeper into the crypt.
It was dark in the crypt, but his vision adjusted easily. There were spaces lining the walls where corpses were once laid to rest, now they were a possible hiding place to worry about. Almost as if on cue, one goblin fell out of the space to his left, smacking its head onto the stones and making a surprised noise. Before the goblin could alert its comrades, the Slayer's steel boot came down on its skull.
"Two."
Resuming his march, the Slayer looked carefully in the crypt's walls. Some were empty, others held long dead bones, but some were home to sleeping goblins. He quietly upped his count to seven by the time he made his way to the crypt's center, seeing goblins sitting around a small fire.
He counted eight, four with clubs made from bones and wood, two armed with axes, one with a dagger, and another armed with a shovel of all things. Taking an oil flask from his belt, Goblin Slayer tossed it in such a way it would arc right into the goblin's fire. In mere moments the fire exploded into a ball of flame which scorched the goblins sitting close to it and disorienting the rest, almost halving his foes' numbers. With the pack in disarray, he got to work.
His first target was barking madly at its comrades, trying in vain to rally its comrades when it lacked the skill or strength to do so. It earned a blade to the chest, and was unceremoniously dropped with a kick. He was quick, methodical, and pressed his advantage as far as it would take him.
By the time the fire died down and the last goblin had been slain, the Slayer had a final count of sixteen.
Or so he thought.
Two large doors on the other side of the crypt opened, grinding against the stone floor. Stepping out of the darkness was a large, burly Champion, clad in slapdash armor and wielding a stone brick roughly affixed to a wooden shaft. Flanking it were four more goblins to deal with, one with a bow and the rest wielding daggers and spears.
They must've been sleeping when I began this quest. The Slayer thought, taking a moment to take note of his inventory.
His sword was chipped and bloodied, his bow was still in decent condition, and he had pilfered two clubs from the goblins. Thinking quickly, he threw his sword at the Goblin Champion, almost like a javelin. The Champion moved its head to the side and only lost its left eye and ear to the blade, right before it roared out in pain and pointed an accusing finger at the Slayer.
Within moments, its lackeys began charging him. One stayed behind, knocking an arrow and trying to pick him off from a distance. The other three tried to overwhelm him with numbers, but it was a fool's gamble.
Especially against one who stacks the deck in his favor.
He grabbed the first goblin by its throat and smashed its head in with a club, right before tossing the cadaver at one of its allies. The two crumpled in a heap, and the third goblin tried to jump at him, dagger aimed at his throat - Only to crash right into his shield. Before the Slayer could do anything else, an arrow pinned the goblin to his shield, piercing its lung. With a gurgle, it died rather quickly.
And then there were three.
The goblin caught under its comrade's corpse earned a club to the skull, and the archer was struck dead by a throwing knife to the throat. But the Champion…Oh the Champion proved much hardier than its companions, as it shook off the blow to its eye with a snarl. It raised its hammer and charged at the Goblin Slayer, swinging wildly as it raged. Dodging to the side, the champion smashed its stone hammer into one of the crypt's pillars, bringing it down with a single blow.
Strong, but unskilled. He thought, right before it turned to face him.
The Champion's face had been marred deeply by the sword, with its face contorted into a manic grin as it tried to crush the Goblin Slayer with a downward strike. Stones were crushed under its blow, but the Slayer sidestepped it before smashing his club into its face.
It splintered with a heavy crack, and the champion's jaw shattered with it. Before the Slayer could pull another weapon from his back, the champion swung its hammer.
He could barely raise his shield in time, and that earned him a shattered arm. The Slayer was thrown into another stone pillar, bringing it down in a pile of rubble. He coughed out a concerning mix of crimson and spit, but despite the pain burning in his body, there was still one more goblin to slay.
Left arm's broken, coughed up blood a moment ago, need to finish this fast.
The remains of his bow were nearby, shattered in two from the impact. His clubs were missing, but he had more than a few tricks up his sleeve. But before he could do that, a stone fell from the ceiling.
And another.
And another.
Until the ceiling began crashing down.
I need to leave-
Before he could finish his thoughts, the Champion smashed his hammer into the Slayer's chest, sending him flying into the crypt wall with a sickening crack. His ribs had most definitely shattered, and his head pounded like the hammer of a blacksmith. Despite the crypt collapsing around them, the Champion was going to finish him off…
…And it wanted to strangle the life out of him first.
Smashing its hammer into the ground as it approached him, the creature's massive hands wrapped around his throat and tightened. Almost immediately, the Slayer's lungs began burning, starved for oxygen. But as darkness crept around his vision, some unearthly fury dragged itself from the deepest pits in his soul.
Summoning the last ounces of his strength, he reached for the goblin's face and gouged out its last eye. The roar of agony it made was loud enough for Slayer's ears to ring, but it didn't matter as the creature let him go to hold its face in pain. Without a moment to lose, he found a decently sized brick next to him and picked it up with his still-functioning arm.
It ends here.
Raising the brick, he brought it down on the goblin's skull with a sickening crack. Then continued until there was nothing left but blood and bone fragments strewn about the floor in a gory mess. Dropping the brick, Slayer felt fatigue crawl its way into his limbs. He couldn't keep standing any longer, and as he fell against a nearby wall, the doorway out had collapsed in on itself. A strange, unfamiliar feeling had fallen over him as the crypt fell apart around him.
It was a cold, numbing sensation that spread through his chest. Was it fear? Sadness? Or was it acceptance?
He couldn't tell.
As he watched the ceiling cave in, Slayer saw strings of sunlight pouring through the cracks. Radiant, golden things that were so close but impossible to reach.
And in moments, he passed.
The world would not know of the man who did so much for it, who lost so much in his brutal crusade against the goblins. There would be those who mourned for him of course, but they were unaware of his passing. It'd be weeks until his body could be found, and there was the question of 'if' they could recover his body at all.
But as this one man died, far beyond his reach, far beyond the gods of his world, there was a new player joining the game. She cast out a set of tarnished brass dice with blackened numbers, watching as they rolled across the board. When they landed, their numbers glowed a radiant gold.
With this roll, there would be a new day for this Goblin Slayer, and many heroes who had fallen long before him.
And so, as golden grace fell from the sky, the Slayer's body still rested in the ruined crypt.
A single, fleeting ember of grace fell through the gaping hole in the crypt's ceiling. Passing over the various goblin corpses and ruined stones, it came to rest in the broken palm of Goblin Slayer. His body twitched once, twice, then suddenly seized as he gasped for air. The air in his lungs burned and he tasted copper in his mouth, yet he was alive.
Before he could ponder this revelation, his body screamed at him to rest. To shut his eyes for a few moments, if not hours. Despite his best efforts, sleep claimed him near instantly.
And he would awaken to a brand new world.