Bell decided to spend her level-up points; she needed to be back on her feet—now. She dumped her points quickly:

Constitution: 15 → 17 Intelligence: 15 → 18

Warmth flushed through her limbs as the system's power sank into her bones, clearing the fog from her mind and sharpening her focus. Her legs still trembled, but at least she could stand without wobbling.

And once Bell started shooting again, the tide shifted.

It didn't take long before the humans overwhelmed the last of the goblins. Bodies littered the churned ground, green blood soaking the dirt. All that remained was the massive Goblin Chief—towering above the treeline—still completely fixated on Tarni.

Dozens of arrows stuck out of the chief like a hedgehog made of steel. None of them seemed to slow the monster down.

Zane watched nervously as the giant brute tried again and again to smash Tarni into the ground. Tarni was doing a hell of a job keeping the thing distracted, but now that every other goblin was dead…

Zane clenched his jaw. Tarni needed to disengage before his stamina ran out. But there was no opening—not a single moment where he could back off without the chief tearing past him and charging into the exhausted humans.

Bell was shaking, her whole body aching from maintaining the strange, overwhelming charge of her new Skill–Title combination. She and Zane called out to Tarni, but he didn't seem to hear a word—lost in the rhythm of battle, running on fumes and instinct.

Through gritted teeth, Bell hissed, "You're going to have to go get him. I can't hold this forever."

Tarni's smile had vanished long ago, replaced by the gritty grimace of someone fighting past the point their body should have given out. Even the chief had slowed slightly—if only because Tarni had led it on a ridiculous loop through fallen logs, stumps, and broken earth. But Tarni was slowing too. Badly.

He ducked another overhead smash—the tenth? The hundredth?—the club slamming into the ground with a quake that rattled his bones. He staggered but caught himself just in time to spot Zane in the distance.

Zane was waving his arms like a lunatic, yelling something Tarni couldn't hear over the pounding in his skull. Tarni blinked sweat from his eyes as Zane pointed—past him.

At Bell.

She stood not five meters away. Not ten. But over twenty. She was far, and somehow her bow still thrummed with that violent, unstable power.

But the colour was different this time—deeper, brighter, wrong in a way that made Tarni's instincts flare.

As soon as the chief noticed her, it skidded to a halt, dragging its club through the earth as it turned, roaring in her direction.

And that's when Tarni understood.

He looked down at his own legs. At Bell. At the unstable glow shaking her bow.

He was standing in the kill zone.

"OH, YOU'RE KIDDING ME—" Tarni wheezed.

He didn't finish the sentence. He sprinted.

Every last scrap of stamina—every buff, every passive, every shred of willpower—poured into his legs as he bolted sideways in a desperate zig-zag, lungs burning like acid.

Bell held her breath, forcing her shaking arms to steady. The chief adjusted its stance, raising its colossal shield—

Then she saw it.

Tarni's mad chase had done more than distract the monster. He'd severed the straps on its right leg armour.

The entire knee was exposed.

Her heart thundered. Her fingers loosened.

She let the arrow fly.

KAAAABOOOOOM

The explosion was so enormous that it ripped the breath from her lungs.

Trees bent.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Dust blasted into the sky. The ground itself shook.

Tarni—who was still sprinting full speed—was launched off his feet, tumbling into a heap of dirt and leaves.

Bell's heart froze.

For a single horrifying moment, she couldn't breathe—

Then, from the smoke:

"Bloody hell, Bell—what was THAT?!"

Tarni staggered out of the dust cloud, coughing hard and brushing ash out of his hair. His eyebrows were singed. His shirt was smoking.

He was alive.

The humans erupted into cheers. People clapped Tarni on the back. Others rushed Bell, who was barely upright, praising the shot that had vaporised half the forest.

Laughter, relief, adrenaline. For one brief instant, it felt like they'd won.

Until the smoke cleared.

And the chief was still standing.

Perfectly upright, in the very spot Bell had hit him.

Silence rippled through the crowd. A thick, suffocating dread.

The chief roared—furious, deafening, shaking the earth beneath their feet—and lifted the remains of its club to charge forward and crush them all.

It took one step.

Only one.

Before its entire right leg—gone at the knee—gave out beneath it.

The massive creature toppled like a felled tree, crashing face-first into the dirt with a ground-shaking THUD.

The line of humans stared at the fallen titan.

Bell swallowed hard. Zane exhaled shakily. Tarni wiped blood from his lip, still grinning like an idiot.

The monster tried to push itself up.

It couldn't.

Its leg was gone.

And for the first time…

The humans truly believed they might survive this.

The dust settled slowly around the fallen giant. Bulwark the Consumer—Goblin Chief, terror of the bush, eater of men—lay half-submerged in the crater his own body had created, one leg torn away at the knee. His massive shield had skidded several meters aside during the fall, leaving him exposed for the first time.

He wasn't dead.

Not yet.

The chief heaved in a ragged breath, the sound like a boulder grinding against another. Thick purple blood poured from the stump of his leg, soaking into the dirt in steaming rivulets. His huge fingers dug into the ground as he tried, once more, to push himself up.

But his strength was failing.

A low, guttural growl rose from his chest, vibrating through the air—a sound of fury, hatred, and defiance. Even dying, the chief radiated the same oppressive power that had made grown adults freeze.

Zane lifted his machete, voice steady. "Everyone stay back. He's not finished."

Tarni spat blood and rolled his shoulders despite the burns. "Yeah, but we bloody well are."

Bell, still shaking from the shot, leaned against her bow like a crutch. "Zane… you finish it. My legs are jelly."

Kaitlyn and Max—standing near the healers—watched with wide, terrified eyes. Max had one arm around his sister's shoulders without even noticing he'd done it. Kaitlyn had her hands clasped together, knuckles white.

Their dad, still being supported by two townsfolk, looked over at them and whispered, "Stay behind the line. Don't you dare move."

Max swallowed. Hard. He didn't plan to.

Bulwark let out one final roar—a sound so full of rage that several younger teens stumbled back, hands over their ears. Even injured, the monster's voice shook leaves from the trees.

Then he swung.

With a sudden burst of dying strength, the chief slammed his massive arm sideways, sweeping a fallen log at the front line like a battering ram.

"DOWN!" Zane yelled.

The front-most tank braced behind his shield—only to be lifted off the ground and hurled backward, crashing into two others. People screamed. A few arrows loosed prematurely.

Max's heart punched into his throat. "Holy—!"

Kaitlyn grabbed his jacket. "Don't move, Max! Don't you dare!"

"But—!"

"No!"

Max froze, trembling, light flickering in his palms from the reflex of his Create Light skill.

Tarni, bloodied and panting, limped until he stood at Zane's side.

Zane didn't look at him. "You good?"

"Nope," Tarni said cheerfully. "Let's kill him."

They approached cautiously. The chief dragged himself upright on his arms, trying to rise enough to swing again. His huge, tusked mouth opened in another roar—but it was weaker. Wet. Bubbling.

The monster lifted his remaining fist—

And Zane met his eyes.

"Stay down," Zane said softly.

He plunged his machete into the chief's exposed throat, driving it up beneath the jaw. Tarni followed, burying his own blade into the monster's chest. A dozen arrows and spells struck the chief's back as the ranged fighters let loose all at once.

Bulwark convulsed. Shuddered.

Then collapsed with a final, earth-shaking thud.

The ground trembled. The trees stilled.

And then—

DING!

DING! DING!

System messages flooded the air in shimmering blue light.

Max's knees gave out, and he sat down hard in the dirt, raw snags still clutched under one arm. His whole body shook.

Emma, His Mum, knelt beside him immediately. "Max? Hey—hey, look at me. You okay?"

He stared at the fallen chief. The colossal corpse. The blood. The weapons. The way Tarni casually wiped gore off his sword like it was tomato sauce.

"I…" Max swallowed. "I think… I think I'm gonna throw up."

Emma's stern face softened. She put her arms around him. "It's okay. You're okay. It's over."

He buried his face in her shoulder and took shaky breaths.

"I don't wanna fight that," he whispered. "I know I have a skill. I know I can help. But… that was…"

"Terrifying?" Emma offered gently.

"Worse."

Emma nodded and hugged him tighter.

"You don't have to fight," she said into his hair. "You just have to keep doing what you're already doing. Helping. Lighting. Keeping us alive."

Max sniffed, rubbed his sleeve across his face, and nodded slowly.

"Okay… okay."

He peeked at the chief's corpse again—and despite the terror still crawling in his stomach, he whispered:

"…Holy crap, Bell blew his leg off."

Emma laughed despite herself. "Yeah. She absolutely did."

Zane raised his sword high as the others gathered around, exhausted but relieved.

"Alright!" he shouted. "Everyone—check the wounded, regroup, and get ready to move. The safe zone's right there. We finish this march, and no bastard goblin touches us again."

Cheers rippled through the survivors—tired, ragged, but real.

Max stood with help from his Mum, still trembling but upright.

The worst was over.

Or so they hoped.

End of Book One

But don't worry, the adventures will continue in Book 2

The World's First Raid Dungeon vs Max

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