The goblin looked at Taro mockingly and spoke in a high but husky voice, "Who dares step foot into Grimthorn, the land of the Skulltide tribe?"
Taro, horrified by what might happen next, hesitated. But he didn't back down. He raised his axe and declared, "I, Taro Zenryu, dare to cross into Grimthorn."
The goblin let out a scratchy laugh, eyeing him with thinly veiled amusement. "And just what are you looking for here?" it screeched, its eyes narrowing.
Taro gave him a cold, sharp glare. "Answers," he said firmly.
Then, without warning, he rushed forward, axe poised to strike. The goblin's smirk faltered—fear flickered across its face—but it reacted quickly, hurling its spear. Taro twisted his body, instinct kicking in, and brought his axe up in one swift motion. The blade deflected the spear just before it could pierce his throat.
The weapon sailed off-course and buried itself in the dirt—but it didn't stay there for long. With a flick of the goblin's wrist, the spear shot back into its hand.
Now closing in, Taro swung his axe toward the goblin's head. The creature ducked under the blade, narrowly avoiding death. Thinking fast, Taro loosened his arms and activated the axe's magic. The handle extended, shifting the weapon's weight downward. The blade dropped with the force of gravity, now perfectly aligned with the goblin's lowered stance.
Before the creature could react, Taro snapped the handle back to its normal length and brought the axe around in one fluid motion.
The goblin didn't have time to scream.
Its head dropped to the forest floor, and its body collapsed beside it.
Silence.
Taro stood over the corpse, breathing heavily, heart pounding. Was it skill? Was it luck? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that he'd won. He was still standing.
He looked down at the goblin's weapon—the spear that had nearly taken his life—and remembered something Doran had once told him: "Whoever wins a battle earns the right to take the weapon of the defeated."
Taro picked it up and pulled the tracker out of his pocket. He aimed the device's camera at the long spear and scanned it.
Weapon: Returning Spear
Power Level: 15
Ability: Flying Return
The results mostly didn't surprise him—except the power level. It was stronger than his axe, but the goblin still lost without giving him a single scratch or bruise. Did he just get lucky? Or was the goblin not skilled enough with the spear?
He sat beneath a tree to rest, and then it hit him: the spear was only stronger on paper. Its ability, though flashy, left the user unarmed for precious seconds. A stronger ability didn't necessarily mean a better weapon.
He looked back at the goblin's lifeless body and felt something shift inside him. He had killed before, but only animals—for food, out of necessity. This was different. This wasn't hunting. This was combat. He had killed a sentient being in self-defense.
After calming himself down, Taro continued toward the mountain cave. The forest was quiet now, save for the occasional branch breaking under the wind and dead leaves crunching under his boots.
When he reached the cave, he peered inside. The cavern was darker than anything he had ever seen, despite the torches scattered along the walls. At first, it looked like an ordinary cave. Then he saw them: goblins—dozens of them. A whole tribe.
Taro thought to himself, This must be the Skulltide tribe the goblin mentioned. But what do I do now? I barely beat that one, and there are like fifty of them here.
He moved away from the entrance before he was spotted. His first instinct was to go around the mountain, but it was too wide. He had no choice. He had to go through the cave.
Slowly, he crept inside, praying not to be noticed. After a few steps, the goblins quieted and began looking around. Still, he pressed forward. To his right, two goblins were eating. To his left, a goblin was training with a massive steel mace. He caught a glimpse of the mace's ability—it could change the size of its head.
The cave smelled like death, and the goblins were laughing and chanting. The momentary silences seemed to be part of their routine. Taro slipped through unnoticed.
Until he was halfway through.
"Hey! Who is that sneaking around?!" a goblin shouted.
Taro froze. He had been caught.
The exit was close, just ahead. He sprinted toward it, but several goblins were already blocking the way. He turned around. More surrounded him.
He had no choice.
Fight.
Thinking fast, he used his tracker to switch to the returning spear. He hurled it at the goblin training with the mace. It struck true—right through the forehead. Taro switched to his axe and dashed toward the fallen mace, slashing at the goblins around him.
He picked up the mace. His axe vanished into virtual storage. A goblin tried to ambush him from below, but Taro smashed him with the mace. He switched back to the spear, threw it into a crowd, missed—but extended his hand, and the weapon flew back to him, impaling a goblin on the return.
Back to the axe.
Goblins swarmed him. Blades flashed. He ducked, blocked, retaliated. One wide swing of his axe cut through half a dozen enemies. He wasn't thinking anymore—just reacting. Dodge, slash, block. Survive.
When he saw an opening, he split a goblin in half.
He kept fighting, slowly thinning the horde. Finally, there were none left.
Taro stood victorious, but barely. Exhausted, bloodied, covered in cuts and bruises. He collapsed. Sleep overtook him like a wave.
When he woke, it felt like years had passed. He dragged himself out of the cave, limping, breath shallow. He remembered the mace and decided to scan it.
Weapon: Growing Mace
Power Level: 10
Ability: Head Growth
It felt like his axe in reverse—more force, less finesse.
He had barely made it a few dozen meters when he heard a deep, husky voice behind him.
He turned. Another goblin stood there—bigger, more terrifying than the rest.
The goblin gestured toward the cave. "Come back with me, human."
There was no point resisting.
"You're a good fighter, human," the goblin growled, "but you killed my whole tribe. Tell me what you're looking for, and I'll spare your worthless life."
Taro met his eyes, unwavering. "I came looking for answers."
The goblin raised a brow. "Answers to what?"
Taro answered with conviction. "The Sword of Creation."
The goblin froze.
Then, softly, "Come with me, little human."
His tone had changed—less rage, more fear. Did he know something Taro didn't?
They walked past the corpses Taro had left behind and entered a smaller chamber in the cave wall. The goblin sat on a rock and began to speak.
"You see, human, this world is divided into one hundred regions. Each has unique inhabitants and weapons. Grimthorn is one of them. I am its ruler. Every region has one. And the sword you seek—it was made over a thousand years ago."
Taro didn't interrupt. He had heard some of this from Doran, but he wanted to hear it again, from someone else.
"Half the rulers want to protect the sword—to give it to its rightful owner. The other half want to destroy it, fearing its power."
Taro stared at him. "Then why are you telling me all this after I killed your tribe?"
The goblin's expression sharpened. "Because I was alive when the Sword of Creation was forged. I watched the first swordsmith hide it. He told the rulers that one day, he would return and reclaim it. Only he knows where it is."
A heavy silence hung between them.
Taro's voice was serious. "And what side are you on?"
The goblin laughed darkly. "I, Skulltide, ruler of Grimthorn, would kill the swordsmith the moment he returns—and destroy that cursed weapon."
Taro didn't hesitate. He reached for his axe.
In the blink of an eye, Skulltide's head hit the floor.
Taro stood frozen. He didn't remember swinging. But there it was.
The body slumped forward. The cave was silent again. What happend, was it an accident or did something overtake Taro's body for that split second. It felt wierd like nothing Taro has experienced before yet also familiar. He couldn't describe the feeling, he just knew that somewhere deep inside he was the swordsmith who forged the Sword Of Creation.
He looked back at Skulltide's beheaded lifeless body and saw a big battle axe next to it. " This fits more my style", he said while picking up the weapon.
He took his tracker and scanned the axe.
Weapon: Flameblazer axe
Power level: 2500
Ability: Fire blade
Taro looked in shock when he read the power level, it was the same as Doran's sword, but also it belonged to a ruler of a region. It did somewhat make sense, but then Taro thought about it. Was his best friend a ruler all along. He remembered how Doran told him he got the sword from the sky a few days ago. Did he mean straight from the Sword Of Creation. Taro had so many questions that he couldn't yet get answers to.