Chapter 15 — The Howl
The Goblin Leader lunged.
A blur of green muscle and rage surged forward, its cleaver slicing through the air with enough force to split stone. Sam barely ducked in time — the gust that followed the swing hit like a wall, kicking up dust and shards of rock that stung his face.
He rolled to the side, landing on one knee, and retaliated with a sharp thrust of his broken pike. The tip struck the goblin's ribs and bounced off uselessly against its hardened flesh. The impact jolted through his arm, numbing it.
Gritting his teeth, Sam leapt backward, narrowly avoiding a backhand swing that would've crushed his skull.
Every hit that creature threw was lethal — each blow carrying enough force to kill him outright.
The goblin's crimson eyes burned brighter with fury, veins bulging across its neck as it roared.
He's strong… very strong, Sam thought, but not much faster than me. I can work with that.
The beast slammed its cleaver down again, cracking the ground beneath them. Dust burst into the air, swallowing the cavern in a gritty haze. But Sam's new instincts kicked in.
He moved without hesitation, body responding before his mind did. His newfound agility made him something else entirely — sharper, faster, his movements so fluid they blurred. He could feel the air split around him, his steps light and deadly, his body pushing past what should've been humanly possible.
Circling to the goblin's flank, Sam dashed low and fast, aiming for the back of its knee. The pike struck true, sinking slightly into the softer flesh behind the joint. The goblin let out a guttural roar, staggering as green blood trickled down its leg.
"Got you," Sam breathed, twisting the pike and ripping it free.
The goblin retaliated instantly, swinging its cleaver in a blind arc. Sam threw himself backward, landing just beyond its reach. He didn't stop moving — his body reacted on instinct alone, darting forward again, striking and retreating, each motion a rhythm of survival. Every attack was a flicker of motion; every dodge a whisper from death's edge.
The Goblin Leader grew more enraged by the second — its roars echoed like thunder, its swings growing faster, heavier. Each strike gouged shallow craters into the stone floor, fragments splintering in all directions.
Sam was starting to feel it. The rhythm. The pulse. The timing.
Until—
The goblin did something he didn't expect.
Mid-swing, it let go of its cleaver and lunged with a fist instead. Its knuckles glowed faintly — a strange, pulsating light Sam recognized too late.
His eyes widened. That glow—!
He barely had time to raise his arms before the punch connected.
Crack. Crack.
Pain exploded through his body as the force sent him flying backward. He crashed into the cavern wall with a sickening thud that knocked the air from his lungs.
Agony followed. His forearm burned, the bones in his left hand fracturing under the strain, and a familiar disorienting wave hit him — the same one he'd felt back when the strangely laughing goblin at the rift had attacked him. Just stronger.
The world spun chaotically. His ears rang. His head felt like it was splitting open. The dim cave light only made the nausea worse. But through the blur, he saw movement — a hulking shadow barreling straight at him.
His instincts screamed.
Sam ducked just as another punch smashed into the wall where he'd been, sending stone shards flying past his head.
He rolled away, heart hammering, and did the one thing he'd been holding back.
His last resort.
He activated his new skill.
Something primal stirred in his chest. His body moved on its own, his lungs expanding as if pulled by an unseen force. Then, from deep within him, a sound tore free — raw, powerfully resounding.
A howl.
It echoed through the cavern, resonating off the walls, a sound both human and beastly. It carried not fear — but dominance.
⸻
Empowering Howl Activated
All Stats +10%
⸻
The goblin flinched mid-step, momentarily confused. Sam didn't waste the chance.
He charged. Faster. Stronger.
The air cracked around him as his body surged forward like a bullet. His muscles pulsed with newfound energy; even the pain from his definitely broken arm dulled under the flood of strength coursing through him.
He slammed his fist into the goblin's chest. The impact sent a tremor through the beast's massive frame, forcing it backward a step.
Sam grinned, breathless. "That's more like it."
The broken pike clattered uselessly from his grip. Against this monster, it was nothing but dead weight.
The goblin roared again, picking up speed and swinging a heavy claw at him. Sam ducked under the blow, instincts guiding him in perfect rhythm. The surge of power from his howl sang through him, but he wasn't foolish enough to mistake the boost for invincibility.
Rolling away from another savage strike, his eyes fell on the fallen cleaver beside him.
He didn't hesitate.
Snatching it up, he felt the heavy weapon vibrate in his grip — rough, almost alive with residual energy. He steadied his breathing, eyes locked on the leader.
The goblin paused too. It stared at the cleaver — its cleaver — now in Sam's hands. A strange, guttural sound rose from its throat, not quite a roar, not quite a word. If Sam could understand it, he'd know it was rage. he'd know it was… Grief.
While Sam was in pain after breaking his stat limits, the goblin leader had approached to get a better view of the human that had killed so many of his kins and broken the suppression of his aura when he caught a faint hint of his son's blood on him.
Buried underneath numerous others but to the goblin leader, it was clear as day. His son had been killed by this human. In his rage, he started attacking the barrier that showed up to surround him. hence the situation Sam saw when he woke up.
And he wasn't going to stop until his son's killer was dead.
But all Sam saw was another enemy preparing to charge.
The leader roared, voice shaking the cavern. Sam mirrored it, lifting the cleaver high. The two rushed toward each other — fury meeting fury, strength meeting strength.
Sam swung with everything he had. Every ounce of muscle, every drop of adrenaline, every second of his skill's borrowed power.
The cleaver came down in a heavy arc, slicing through the air and into the goblin's shoulder.
The blade bit deep — through flesh, through bone — lodging halfway through its chest.
The goblin's roar turned into a strangled gasp. It staggered, eyes wide with unwillingness, blood bubbling from its mouth. Then, slowly, its knees buckled, and it collapsed with a thunderous crash.
Silence.
Sam stood there, chest heaving, the sound of his own breathing the only thing he could hear. He released the cleaver still buried in the creature's body and stumbled a step backward.
The fight was over.
The cave fell still once more — except for the faint echoes of distant goblin screams. The surviving ones had seen enough. A single glance from Sam, and they fled into the darkness, their courage broken.
He looked down at the massive corpse.
Then, with a weary exhale, he stretched his blood-stained hand forward.
"…Devour," he whispered.