The terrifying explosion from the Goblin's magic was like a death knell, announcing to all the villagers the collapse of their home.
Drowning in fear and despair, knowing they could no longer defend themselves, those still fighting at the village's front barricade turned their backs and fled.
With no one left to stop them, the Goblins outside gleefully climbed over the fence and poured into the village. They surged forward like a green flood, a vile plague.
The first thing the Goblins did was take revenge on the humans who had once raised weapons against them.
With savage laughter, they immediately chased after the fleeing villagers.
Though most had shorter legs than humans, the Goblins ran swiftly, their stamina overflowing.
Chasing from behind, some even hurled deadly stones with slings.
A few villagers struck by the stones slowed down, or worse, fell to the ground.
These unlucky souls became the first to be caught and met their horrific fate.
The villagers' screams of agony and terror echoed throughout the village.
Witnessing it all unfold before his eyes, the village elder collapsed to his knees.
He was too old to run.
All he could do was helplessly watch the tragedies, seeing his homeland trampled and destroyed. He etched its final images into memory before both he and the village faded away.
Tears streamed down his face, filled with sorrow and hatred. His gaze pierced toward the approaching Goblin Mage.
Seeing that look, the Goblin sneered with contempt. It raised its spear and drove it straight through the elder's chest.
"I curse you to fall into hell."
The old village chief growled his final words before his breath ceased.
His arms dropped lifelessly. His eyes remained wide open, as if still staring at the enemy.
The Goblin seemed irritated by that gaze. It shook the elder's corpse off its spear, then swung the blade to slash across the old man's eyes.
Satisfied at last, the Goblin turned away, joining the brutal, bloody chase that continued in the village.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Hurry up! Children, get on the carriages and carts."
"Quickly, we must leave at once."
The women were hastily arranging their children and a few essential belongings onto every means of transport they could find in the village.
Shouts, scolding, and urgent commands from the adults mixed with the panicked sobs of the children, creating a chaotic scene.
As soon as everything was hurriedly packed, the group began to move.
Escorted by a small number of men, the women and children were led out of the village through the rear path.
Hearing the ominous sounds coming from the front of the village, fear gripped them, and their steps grew faster and more frantic.
"Quickly!"
"Move faster!"
Some could not help but repeat these words, as if reminding not only the group but also themselves.
In that moment of overwhelming helplessness, repeating such words seemed the only way to forget their fear and keep themselves steady enough to continue moving.
"Mother, where is Father? Isn't he coming with us?"
A child asked innocently.
Hearing the question, the mother felt her eyes blur with tears. Struggling to hold herself together, she forced a smile and reassured:
"Your father has something to do. He will catch up with us later."
As she spoke those comforting words, she silently prayed they would become true, so her family could reunite in peace.
Yet cruel reality always finds a way to mock the living.
Not long after the group, mostly women and children, left the village, what they saw was not their husbands or fathers.
Instead, in their sight appeared a small band of fierce Goblins, riding on ferocious wild boars, chasing and drawing ever closer.
Panic immediately spread through the group. Sensing the fear of the adults, even the children who did not understand began to cry, worsening the chaos.
Hearing the sounds of prey ahead, the Goblins grew more excited.
They urged their boars to charge faster. Some surged forward, circling to block the villagers' path, forming a pincer trap.
The donkeys and horses pulling the carriages and carts panicked, stamping their hooves and crying out.
Seeing themselves surrounded by terrifying Magical Beasts, the villagers' legs trembled. Some were so frightened they collapsed to the ground.
Yet, one brave young man, clutching a crude spear, rushed forward to confront the Goblins blocking the way.
Witnessing this resistance, the Goblins laughed as if they had seen something absurdly amusing.
One of them stepped forward, ready to finish off the foolish prey seeking death.
But before it could swing its weapon, the Goblin froze and looked down.
A sudden arrow, shot from nowhere, had pierced straight into its chest. The Goblin collapsed instantly, its life snuffed out.
The remaining Goblins turned in alarm toward a direction. There, they saw a troop of soldiers charging forward.
Some of them were even riding on horseback.
The man leading the charge held a crossbow, the very weapon that had felled the Goblin moments before.
"Advance! Kill them all! Protect the villagers!"
The commander shouted to his men.
Yet his order was met with a blazing 'Fireball' flying straight toward him.
Seeing the dangerous magic, he calmly drew his sword and sliced it apart.
"A Goblin Mage?"
He muttered, shifting his focus toward the Goblin clad in ornate robes.
He knew this was the leader of the Goblin band, the enemy that must be dealt with swiftly.
Seeing its proud magic destroyed, the Goblin Mage panicked for the first time. It quickly cast another magic.
This time, instead of a single large 'Fireball', many smaller flames the size of fists appeared around it.
Then, those flames were released simultaneously, flying faster than the previous 'Fireball'.
Moreover, each of the smaller flames twisted along unpredictable trajectories, making them difficult to anticipate.