The man standing alone against a goblin appeared to be the strongest of the group.
Middle-aged like the others, though clearly older, he wielded a saber with the experience of someone who had survived many rifts.
The goblin he was facing lunged at him with a shriek.
He grit his teeth, stepped sideways, and used his saber to deflect the attack, though the force still stung, sending a tremor up his arm.
The goblin snarled, preparing for another lunge.
But the man was already moving.
Essence burst from within him, rippling through the air.
An illusory figure emerged behind him, a towering, saber-wielding warrior radiating a fierce aura.
His Five Star Martial Spirit.
Its presence surged through him like a wave of strength, revitalizing his tired limbs.
His saber lit up with incandescent light as he shouted:
"Saber Slash!"
He swung in a precise, vertical arc with his spirit following his exact movement.
The blow connected, knocking the goblin backward, but not injuring it.
Only pushing it away.
"Tch."
The man clicked his tongue, frustration etched across his face.
He knew he wasn't strong enough to defeat the creature alone.
But help was coming.
Two of his group had just finished off their goblin.
They sprinted over, eyes sharp and breathing heavy, dropping into position at his side.
One of the group members was a man with a wild, spiked Mohawk and twin dagger conduits, both blades dull and scratched from constant use.
Beside him stood a woman whose appearance was impossible to ignore, multiple piercings ran along her ears, nose, and even her tongue, and she carried a massive hammer conduit that looked far too heavy for someone her size.
When they reached the captain's side, the saber-wielding man exhaled sharply.
"Let's end this quick."
Both nodded, then charged ahead.
The Mohawk fighter darted low and fast, daggers flashing.
The heavily pierced woman followed with thunderous steps, swinging her hammer with brutal force.
The captain waited a breath behind them before rushing in, his saber conduit catching the rift's sunlight.
Their teamwork paid off.
It didn't take long before the three subdued the lone goblin, and soon after, with coordinated effort, the group managed to bring down all four mob-unit goblins.
With the enemies defeated, the captain sheathed his saber into the strap on his back.
Harvesting was delegated to one of the younger members, while the rest took a moment to breathe and recover.
Then the scout, an alert, sharp-eyed woman suddenly spoke .
"Captain, something's approaching."
Instant tension rippled through the group.
The saber-wielding captain straightened, his expression sharpening.
"Is it a threat?"
"I was just about to check."
A pulse of essence flowed from her, and behind her materialized her Three-Star Martial Spirit, a hooded figure shrouded in swirling shadows, its face hidden in complete darkness.
"Shadow Gaze."
Two glowing eyes flared open beneath the apparition's hood, and simultaneously the scout's own eyes turned the same color.
She stared into the distance for a few seconds before the glow faded and the spirit dissipated into mist.
"So?"
The scout exhaled.
"It's a lone mob-unit."
The captain let out a breath of relief.
"Good, it will be an easy cleanup."
He turned toward three members:
Jez, the pierced woman with the hammer;
Mal, the man with the towering Mohawk and twin daggers;
and Kay, a quiet girl with a koi fish tattoo curling along her cheek.
"You three go deal with the stray."
Mal spun his dagger conduits confidently.
"Don't worry captain, we got this."
The trio jogged toward the direction the scout indicated disappearing into the tall grass.
It didn't take long.
Before a piercing scream tore through the valley.
"AHHHHH!"
The group froze at the scream and it didn't take long as a goblin emerged from the tall grass.
And it wasn't a normal goblin.
Its skin was a dark, mossy green, almost black in certain places.
Its eyes gleamed with sharp, unsettling intelligence.
It was taller, broader, stronger than any mob-unit goblin they had ever seen.
And in its hand, was the half-eaten, severed head of Mal.
The monster stared at the remaining members, its lips stretching into a wide, sadistic grin.
A low, rumbling growl escaped it as it began to approach, step by murderous step.
****
The scout tore through the tall grass, lungs burning, breath ragged and uneven.
Each inhale hitched in her chest, every exhale trembled.
Her steps were frantic and unsteady, less of a controlled retreat and more like a desperate scramble of someone running from death itself.
The abomination had killed them.
All six of them.
Jez, Kay, Mal, Sam, Troy & The captain
All of them Gone.
Just like that, their seven-man group was reduced to one survivor.
After the creature revealed itself, with that grotesque grin and Mal's half-eaten head dangling from its claws, the captain had been the first to charge, fury blazing in his eyes.
He lasted a single second.
As a hand through his chest silenced him instantly.
The remaining two Troy and Sam had tried to avenge him, and died just as swiftly.
Leaving only her.
Anger boiled in her veins, fury for her fallen comrades, but it was smothered by cold, brutal logic.
Charging at that monster would accomplish nothing.
She would die, just like the rest.
So she ran.
Her legs pumped through the thick grass, each stride fueled by terror.
Coward, a part of her whispered.
But her mind screamed louder, reminding her of the reality,
If you fight it, you die.
If you run, you might live.
That was all that mattered.
Then she heard them.
Footsteps.
They were fast and relentless.
And they were closing in.
Her heart lurched, but she didn't dare look back.
Instead, essence flared behind her as her Three-Star Martial Spirit materialized, the hooded figure gliding silently behind her, cloak fluttering like a shadow.
"Shadow Dash!"
Shadows wrapped around her legs, swirling up her calves, and in the next instant her speed surged dramatically.
Grass blurred around her as she shot forward, creating precious distance between herself and the approaching creature.
She didn't know how long she ran, seconds? minutes?
Only when her essence reserves nearly bottomed out did she finally stagger into a small clearing, collapsing forward with both hands braced on her knees.
Her breathing was ragged, her body trembling.
Please, please tell me I lost it.
But before she could fully catch her breath, the grass behind her rustled.
She snapped upright instantly, eyes wide, body tensed to bolt.
Her Martial Spirit manifested behind her once more, ready to assist in another escape.
Only, it wasn't needed.
Because it was a human that stepped out from between the grass.
That eased her panic, but only slightly.
However the longer she stared, the more her tired, frightened mind latched onto a single strange, intrusive thought:
Why, is his essence capacity so low?