Attack On Monsters

He stood not because his body was intact, nor because pain hadn't gnawed at every fibre of his battered frame. No, he stood because he refused to stay down. He stood because resignation was a fate he would never embrace, he refused to die as just another nameless Goblin fated to live in the mud, despised and dismissed.

He stood… because he was ready to rise.

Higher than any Goblin before him. Farther than his fate had dared allow. Stronger than this towering Human brute who now barred his path like a stone wall between him and the sky.

And this brawny, arrogant Human, this towering wall of flesh and might, he had become more than just a temporary adversary. He was the embodiment of every shackle, every insult, every cruel chain cast around Tyberius and his kind. An obstacle to be broken no matter the cost.

Robert the Human, grinned at the sight of Tyberius rising again. "The prey still writhes? Delightful," he said, a twisted glee spreading across his face like a sickness.

Tyberius met his gaze, heart hardened, breath ragged, fists clenched. His weapon, a crude wooden stick remained in his small hands. A poor tool against iron, but it was what he had. That alone was enough.

With a grunt, he charged, determination wrapped around his soul like armour. There was no time for words now, no provocation. Only action.

The Human raised his iron mace with a sneer, then brought it down with malicious force.

Tyberius sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the crushing blow. He retaliated, slamming his stick against the Human's side.

Snap.

The stick splintered on impact, utterly useless.

He'd known it wouldn't do much. Still, some part of him had hoped maybe it would sting, maybe it would leave a mark. But it had done nothing.

Disappointment turned to agony as the Human slapped him across the face with a brutal hand. Tyberius flew back, skull smashing against a tree trunk before collapsing onto the ground like a discarded rag.

Groaning, he rolled over. His body screamed for rest, for mercy, but neither would come. He forced himself up once again, though the world spun around him like a drunken storm. His legs trembled, and when he touched his face, he felt warm, sticky blood running down his cheek. A deep gash on his forehead had ruptured, bleeding profusely into his right eye, half-blinding him.

"Fuck…" Tyberius muttered under his breath, wiping at the crimson flow. His vision was split in two, his only weapon shattered, his body already half-broken. And yet, he had to fight. He must fight.

This was unfair, every part of it.

But fairness was a luxury long denied to creatures like him.

He'd complained before, countless times, but complaints had never changed anything. No one would save him. No miracle would descend from the heavens to lift him out of this hell.

If he didn't change his fate, no one else would.

"Come now, freak!" Robert bellowed with a grin that reeked of sadism. "Push harder! Don't chicken out now!"

'Son of a bitch,' Tyberius cursed inwardly.

That smug grin, that mocking encouragement, it only deepened Tyberius's resolve. Even if it meant dying here, he would at least make this monster feel it. Make him bleed. He had to. It wasn't just about him anymore. It was about every Goblin who had ever suffered under the heel of creatures like this.

This fight had to matter.

He charged again, now with nothing but his bare fists and half the strength he began with.

As he moved, a voice echoed in his mind, Kagon's voice, calm and firm:

> "The easiest thing for a Goblin to do is give up. Admit defeat. Accept that no matter what you do, you'll never rise above your oppressors. That's why so many choose resignation. It's all that awaits them at the end of the rope." <

A broken smile crept across Tyberius's face as those words echoed.

He reached Robert, threw a punch, but Robert was faster.

The mace smashed into Tyberius's side.

Bones cracked.

Air fled his lungs.

He soared through the air, then crashed to the dirt, gasping, twitching.

> "Think about it," Kagon's voice returned, calm yet haunting. "The moment you stop fighting, all your suffering ends. Death comes, and with it begins your path to freedom." <

But Tyberius wasn't ready for freedom through death. Not yet.

Pain erupted from every joint, every tendon screamed in protest, regardless, he moved anyway.

He stood again.

> "Giving up is the easiest and safest path for a Goblin," <

And yet, here Tyberius was, bloodied, battered, and burning inside with something far greater than pain.

He rose, fists trembling, eyes blazing.

Robert let out a low chuckle, part impressed, part amused.

But he was done playing.

Robert made up his mind to end this. The next blow would not be restrained. He would pulverise the Goblin. Make sure he never gets back up.

He sprinted forward, his mace raised high like a god's wrath incarnate.

"You!" Robert snarled in frustration.

Because Tyberius grabbed the mace.

> "One thing you need to understand, young Goblin," Kagon had once said. "Just one thing." <

Though every bone in his body felt like it was being shattered anew, Tyberius held on. His small, blood-slick hands locked onto the mace's handle like iron clamps.

Robert pulled. Tyberius pulled harder.

> "If you give up now… who will protect the others? The ones suffering just like we are? Languishing under the fists of their masters?" <

Tyberius clenched his jaw, pain overwhelming, but he refused to let go.

> "The fight that nobody wants to fight, we must take it upon ourselves." <

Robert shouted, straining to yank the mace free. But Tyberius remained anchored by something far stronger than muscle.

> "For if we don't…" < Kagon's words rang like a battle hymn.

"Out Of Body Experience!" Tyberius roared.

The world stilled.

In the same instant the words left his mouth, Robert's mace found its mark, crushing Tyberius's physical form and sending him smashing once more into a tree.

His body hit the bark with a sickening crunch. Bones broke. Flesh tore. Blood pooled.

His body went limp.

Unmoving.

Unconscious.

Robert lowered his weapon, breath heavy, eyes narrowed.

He had won.

> "History will continue to repeat itself… unhinged," <