Chapter 31: Victory's Price

*Date: 33,480 First Quarter - Iron Confederacy*

The battlefield stank of blood and burnt hair, acrid smoke clinging low and curling over heaps of dead goblins. Their crude weapons lay scattered like broken teeth across the blood-soaked earth. The troll lay collapsed in its own dark ichor, chains rattling as the last of its life left its massive frame. As it died, a key tumbled from somewhere in its harness, and Demir pocketed it quickly, thinking it might unlock the slaves' chains. But the fight wasn't done not yet.

The goblin boss Grothmar stood at the heart of the carnage like a monument to violence, a wall of muscle and fury that seemed to dwarf everything around it. Its jagged blade was longer than Demir was tall, black iron edges chipped from countless battles but no less deadly for wear. Yellow eyes glowed in its broad skull like molten gold, and every guttural growl from its throat made the ground vibrate beneath their feet.

Around him, only a handful still stood in the smoke and ruin: Thalia, her staff alight with barely contained fire; her plated commander, dented shield raised despite his obvious exhaustion; the assassin, bloodied daggers in hand, moving like a predator even in his weariness; and Demir himself, breathing hard behind a cracked shield and nicked sword. The horde was gone but the boss alone felt worse than an army.

The boss struck first.

It swung the slab-sword sideways in a massive arc, a blow wide enough to cleave through all four humans before it could be stopped. Demir braced his damaged shield high, but Thalia shouted a word of power and flames coiled around the ground. The blade met fire, sparks erupting like a forge as steel screeched against burning air.

The commander lunged with desperate courage, shield smashing into Grothmar's thigh, trying to knock the massive creature off balance. Grothmar barely budged, solid as a mountain. With a snarl of contempt, it booted the man across the dirt, his shield denting from the impact as he rolled away groaning.

The assassin darted in like a striking viper, twin daggers flashing in precise strikes. He carved shallow wounds into the boss's side, each cut meant to bleed it down slowly. But the goblin spun with surprising speed, backhanding him with the flat of its sword. The assassin vanished into a cloud of dust and pained groans, rolling away while spitting blood.

Demir charged with a roar of defiance. His shield rammed into Grothmar's gut, forcing the massive creature back half a step. He slashed upward, steel biting under the ribs, scoring a wound that actually drew blood. "I need to count again," Demir thought desperately. The blade scored, but the wound was shallow against such a massive opponent. The monster laughed, a sound like stone cracking, and hammered its own fist down on Demir's shield. The wood splintered, buckling under the tremendous force.

"Damn it -" Demir grunted, staggering backward.

Thalia stepped forward, staff raised like a spear, chanting words of power. Fire spiraled into a lance of pure destruction and shot into the boss's chest. The explosion lit the entire valley, forcing the brute back several steps but when the smoke cleared, the goblin still stood, burned and snarling but very much alive.

It howled with rage, swinging again. The commander blocked desperately, his shield shrieking under the strike like a dying thing. The assassin appeared behind the creature, cutting deep into its calf with surgical precision. The boss kicked back blindly, nearly snapping the rogue's leg.

Every blow it dealt was a death sentence barely avoided. Every wound they scored barely slowed the monster down.

And in the shadows, Kazzak slunk away like the coward he was. The politician goblin crept toward the treeline, robes dragging in the mud, muttering curses under his breath. His calculating eyes darted constantly, prioritizing survival over loyalty. No one noticed his retreat except a lone archer.

One of Thalia's bowwomen, battered and unconscious minutes ago, stirred among the corpses like a ghost returning to life. She saw the slinking goblin through pain-blurred eyes, groaned with effort, and nocked a single arrow. Her fingers trembled from her injuries, but her aim was true.

Thwip!

Kazzak cried out as the shaft struck his leg, sending him toppling into the dirt with a shriek of pain and outrage. He crawled desperately, clawing at the ground, but the archer limped forward with grim determination. A quick strike with her bow's grip knocked him unconscious. Then she staggered back into formation, weapon ready despite her obvious pain.

"Thought I was dead," she muttered through gritted teeth. "Guess not yet."

The circle tightened around the boss. It roared again, swinging its massive sword in wide arcs of fury, but now the humans pressed with unified purpose.

Demir's arms trembled with exhaustion. Every clash against the goblin's steel rattled his bones like a bell, every swing felt like it would snap his spine. But his armor his own work held. His chestplate took one glancing blow that should have caved his chest, but the reinforced edge he'd hammered with such care days ago held fast.

My craft is keeping me alive, the thought burned through the pain. I won't waste it.

The commander charged again, shield up, buying Thalia precious seconds with his body. She planted her staff in the ground, whispered a spell, and flung sparks directly into the goblin's face. The monster blinked and snarled, momentarily blinded, but the distraction was enough.

"Now!" Demir roared. "For me, now or never. I'm charged, and if this doesn't cut it, I'm useless," he said to himself.

The assassin appeared at the creature's back, crouched low like a striking cat. His daggers flashed in perfect coordination, slashing across the goblin's heel tendons. The cuts were deep, crippling. The beast screamed, legs buckling, its massive body lurching forward as its support gave way.

Demir didn't hesitate. He surged forward, sword high, every ounce of rage and hope pouring into his strike. His attack filled with power the last remaining gift of the game's hidden systems, living unseen in his muscles.

"For the slaves! For us!"

He brought the blade down with all his strength.

The steel split the boss's throat in a gory spray that painted the ground red. The goblin crashed to its knees, massive hands clawing at the wound, eyes wide with animal rage and disbelief. It gurgled, spat blood, tried desperately to rise. But Demir drove forward relentlessly, shield ramming its face, sword plunging again into the gap between armor plates.

With a final heave, he split its chest open. The giant goblin toppled backward, its body shaking the ground as it fell still, yellow eyes going dark forever.

The valley fell silent except for the crackle of dying fires and the ragged breathing of the survivors.

Demir stood over the massive corpse, panting, bloodied, his shield ruined, his sword dripping. His hands shook with exhaustion and adrenaline, but he hadn't fallen. The monster was dead, and somehow, impossibly, they had won.

Around him, the others rose slowly from the carnage. The commander leaned heavily on his battered shield, armor caved in but still breathing. The assassin flicked blood from his blades with practiced efficiency, his face unreadable behind the grime of battle. Thalia lowered her staff, firelight dimming in her eyes as the magic faded.

The archer limped forward, bow still in hand, her gaze sharp despite exhaustion. Behind them, Sin emerged from cover, his face pale but alive, relief written in every line of his body.

In the distance, the slaves wept openly, some daring to believe that freedom had finally come.

Demir looked at the corpse, then at his trembling hands. I did it. We did it.

Thalia broke the silence first, her voice cool but edged with something like amusement. "If this were still the game it once was, I'd be furious you finished our prey." She tapped her staff against the ground, a smirk tugging at her lips. "But no experience points, no loot chest, no rewards... so thank you, Demir." Her tone carried the dry humor of someone much younger than her graying hair suggested.

The assassin gave him a long look, unreadable as always, then simply nodded once in acknowledgment.

The commander exhaled with relief thick in his breath, and dropped to one knee beside the corpse, finally allowing himself to rest.

The archer, still swaying on her feet, glanced at the unconscious Kazzak tied up at her feet. "We've still got this one breathing. Don't know if that's good or bad."

Demir wiped his blade clean on the grass, sheathing it with shaking fingers. "It's got something. Answers, maybe. Information we can use."

Sin called out from across the battlefield, "Demir! They're seriously hurt. Marco and Timmy!"

Demir looked around desperately. Thalia's men were already feeding healing potions to their wounded comrades, the magical liquid glowing faintly as it worked. He rushed to Thalia with desperation clear in his voice. "Do you have any excess potions? Please?"

Thalia sighed, studying his face for a long moment. "You don't have any healing supplies at all." She gestured to her comrades, and they reluctantly handed over two precious vials. "How can you come to raid so unprepared? If we hadn't miraculously been here, you'd all be dead."

Demir took the potions and ran to Sin, giving one to him to administer to Timmy. He gave the other directly to Marco, who was conscious but bleeding from several wounds. Both boys started groaning as their wounds closed, the magical healing working its way through their battered bodies.

Demir sighed with relief and returned to Thalia to express his gratitude. "Thank you so much. We are in such debt to you."

Thalia's expression grew calculating. "Those were greater healing potions. Very expensive, you know."

"Yes, thank you. We will pay you back someday," Demir promised earnestly.

"Since we already freed your slave friends too, how about you give us your share of all the loot from here? Other than what the locals are wearing, we can't get any more rewards, you know."

Demir was shocked. After such a life and death situation, in such a small moment after victory, they could bargain over money and equipment. The casual way she discussed payment while bodies still lay cooling around them felt surreal.

"Take it. Take all of it," Demir said without hesitation.

He rushed to free his slave friends from their chains, the key from the troll fitting perfectly. As the shackles fell away, tears of joy mixed with tears of grief for all they had endured. Fourteen people stumbled free, blinking in the sunlight like prisoners emerging from a cave.

They were alive. They were free. And for the first time in four years, Demir allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, they could build something better from the ashes of this world.

But as he looked at Thalia's group efficiently looting the battlefield, he realized that survival in this new world would always come with a price.