CHAPTER 88: DOOM IN RED SKIN

Rowan and Gilbert reached the location at full speed.

And what they saw after reaching, stopped them in their tracks frozen.

The ground was littered with bodies—men, women, even children. Blood soaked the dirt. Some people were still alive, running for their lives. But behind them, a group of goblins chased with twisted smiles. They were laughing and howling like wild animals. They were short, hunched creatures with sickly green skin. They had sharp yellow teeth, and long, clawed fingers. Their eyes were gleaming with malice, and their twisted limbs were moving with unnatural speed.

And then there were the dire wolves. Which looked exactly like normal wolves but double in size. They were tearing and eating the flesh of the dead.

The whole scenario was too gruesome.

A few mages tried to fight back, but their spells were too weak. Some couldn’t even cast properly. Their hands were shaking in fear.

And then came the real terror.

An orc stepped out from behind a crumbled building. It was massive—twice the size of any man. It was a brutish creature with thick red skin and had broad shoulders, bulging muscles and a fearsome face with a flat nose, deep yellow eyes, and large tusks jutting from its lower jaw. With every step it took, the ground was shaking. Dust flew up. Cracks were spreading through the street like spiderwebs with each step. It carried a huge axe. But even without it, its fists looked strong enough to crush any human with a single punch.

Rowan didn’t move. His heart pounded in his chest.

He looked around, hoping to see someone—anyone—even if it wasn’t a hunter. But who could help.

But there was no one.

No hunters. No soul brave enough to put up a real fight. No backup. Nothing. Only those who were hunting and those who were being hunted.

Gilbert, the royal guard was standing firmly beside him. He was also staring at the horrible scene in front of him with sad eyes. He was a Tier 4 mage, strong and experienced. But even then... he was not in the equal footing as a real B-class hunter. And fighting a full D-class dungeon outbreak with just the two of them? It was almost impossible.

Rowan was still lost in his thoughts when a sharp cry broke through the chaos.

A boy was screaming.

In front of him, his mother was in a crouched position, shielding him with her body. Her arms trembled as a goblin was closing in with its bared claws.

Rowan didn’t think. He didn’t need a plan anymore.

Sometimes, you don’t need a strategy. You just need a spark.

A flicker of fire that turns into a blaze.

With a shout, Rowan dashed forward. He thrust out his palm, and flames burst from his hand. His fire-coated punch landed squarely in the goblin’s chest, creating a burning hole through it.

The creature let out a screech, then crumbled into ash.

Rowan didn’t have time to breathe.

The moment the goblin died, the rest went wild.

A horde of them turned toward him, howling in fury. It was like they could feel one of their own had died—and now they wanted revenge.

Dozens charged straight at him. The dire wolves weren’t idle either.

Rowan gritted his teeth and raised both arms. Fire surged again, lighting up his hands. He threw fire balls as fast as he could, burning one monster after another. But they kept coming.

Then Gilbert joined in as well

With a loud chant, the royal guard unleashed a gust of wind that sent several goblins flying. He moved fast. With his fire inhanced fists, he was bursting through the horde of monsters. His movements were boosted with magic.

The two stood back to back. They were outnumbered, but still kept fighting. Killing any monster that were advancing toward them and attacking them. But still....

They could feel it.

That they were barely holding their ground.

It wasn’t enough to win. And Rowan knew it very well. Unless there was any other help, they both would die.

Rowan clenched his jaw.

"This is bad," he muttered. "Really bad."

He didn’t know what to do. He came rushing for help. But now that he was here, he was dumbfounded.

They continued to fight. Rowan’s arms were getting sore. His breathing had grown heavy. But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

Gilbert was beside him, wind and fire swirling like blades. His condition wasn’t so good either.

Then suddenly—three others joined the fray.

They were actual hunters. They had been hiding all along and didn’t dare to step forward out of fear. But now, seeing Rowan and Gilbert holding the line, they stepped in.

One was a Tier 3 mage with water magic. He conjured sharp water blades and froze a wolf mid-jump.

Another was a Tier 3 who had both earth and fire magic. He raised stone walls to block incoming goblins, then blasted flames over the top.

The last was a Tier 2 lightning mage. Fast and reckless, he darted between the goblins, stunning them with sparks before finishing with a quick strike.

None of them were above class C hunter. But still it was better than nothing.

Together, the five of them were finally pushing back.

Both goblins and the dire wolves began falling in greater numbers. Some even turned and tried to flee.

The crowd watching from far behind started to cheer.

For a moment, everyone saw hope. Hope of coming out alive.

But that moment didn’t last.

The orc, watching everything from behind the ruined house, finally moved.

It let out a roar. The sound cracked through the air like thunder.

Then it charged.

Its target was the Tier 2 lightning mage.

The hunter didn’t even have time to scream.

One swing.

Just one.

The massive axe tore through his body like paper. Blood sprayed, and his body collapsed in two pieces.

The others froze for a second.

Then the orc jumped again—this time straight toward Rowan.

Rowan was still casting fire spells, facing the wrong way.

He didn’t see it coming.

Gilbert did.

"PRINCE! WATCH OUT!" he yelled, his voice was filled with panic.

Rowan turned his head—just slightly.

But it was too late.

The orc’s axe was already there. A blur of metal, whistling through the air toward his skull.

The blade was only a hair’s width away.

Everyone thought the prince was done for. Gilbert felt despair.

And then—

BOOM!