Hybrid's Dominion

***Chapter 6: The Nameless Goblin***

Paul moved with purpose, his greatsword strapped to his back and his golden eyes scanning the terrain for any sign of danger—or opportunity. 

He had been traveling for days, his supplies dwindling and his body growing weary, but he pressed on.

The wilderness was unforgiving, but it was also a place where he could test his limits, where he could grow stronger.

As he crested a hill, the sound of distant screams reached his ears.

Paul froze, his instincts sharpening.

The screams were high-pitched and frantic, unlike anything he had heard before.

Curiosity and caution warred within him, but curiosity won out.

He adjusted the grip on his greatsword and moved toward the source of the noise.

What he found was chaos.

A goblin settlement, little more than a cluster of crude huts and makeshift barricades, was under attack.

A Pack of Rabid beasts—twisted, feral creatures with matted fur and glowing green eyes—were tearing through the village with savage ferocity.

Goblins, small and wiry, fought desperately to defend their homes, but they were no match for the beasts.

The air was filled with the sounds of snarling, screaming, and the sickening crunch of bone.

Paul hesitated for only a moment before charging into the fray.

He didn't know these goblins, didn't owe them anything, but the sight of the rabid beasts stirred something primal within him.

They were a blight, a corruption of nature, and they needed to be eradicated.

The first beast lunged at him, its jaws snapping wildly.

Paul sidestepped the attack and brought his greatsword down in a sweeping arc, cleaving the creature in two.

The second beast came at him from the side, but Paul was ready.

He pivoted, his sword a blur of steel, and the beast's head rolled into the dirt.

The goblins, seeing this towering hybrid enter the battle, rallied behind him, their tiny spears and crude weapons striking at the beasts with renewed vigor.

But the rabid creatures were relentless, their numbers seemingly endless.

And then, Paul saw it—the alpha.

The alpha Stalker was a monstrous beast standing on two feet, twice the size of the other beasts, its body covered in thick, matted fur and its eyes glowing like embers.

It moved with a terrifying grace, its claws tearing through the ground as it stalked toward's Paul.

Paul tightened his grip on his greatsword and stepped forward, his golden eyes locked on the beast.

 "Come on, then," he growled, his voice low and steady. "Let's me see what you've got."

The alpha lunged, its claws slashing through the air.

Paul barely managed to dodge, the beast's talons grazing his arm.

He countered with a powerful swing, but the alpha was fast, dodging the blow and retaliating with a swipe that sent Paul skidding back.

The fight was brutal and unrelenting.

The alpha's strength and speed were unmatched, but Paul's skill and determination kept him in the fight.

He used every trick his mother --Mira had taught him, every ounce of strength he possessed. 

The clash lasted a long while .

Finally sensing an opportunity, he drove his greatsword through the alpha's chest, pinning it to the ground.

The beast let out a final, guttural howl before going still.

The remaining rabid beasts, seeing their alpha slain, turned and fled into the forest.

The settlement was in ruins, and most if not all, the goblin tribe lay dead.

Paul surveyed the carnage, his chest heaving from the exertion.

His body ached, his wounds stung, and his energy was nearly spent. As he caught his breath, a small figure approached him cautiously.

It was a goblin, smaller and skinnier than any he had ever seen, with wide, fearful eyes.

The goblin dropped to its knees, bowing its head low.

"P-please," it stammered, its voice trembling. "Spare me! I will serve you! I will do anything!"

Paul raised an eyebrow, amused by the goblin's desperation.

"Serve me, huh?" he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Do you even have a name?"

The goblin shook its head frantically. 

"No name, master. No name."

Paul chuckled, the sound low and rumbling.

 "Well, you can't just be 'no name.' How about… Alfred?"

The goblin blinked, confused. "Al…fred?"

"Yeah," Paul said, his smile widening. 

"Like Batman's butler. You know, loyal, dependable, always there to help. Think you can handle that?"

The goblin—Alfred—nodded eagerly. 

"Yes, master! Alfred will serve you well!"

Paul sighed, shaking his head. 

"Alright, Alfred. First order of business: help me clear this mess."

Together, they worked through the night, burying the dead and salvaging what little they could from the ruined settlement.

By the time they were done, the moon hung high in the sky, and Paul's body was on the verge of collapse.

He stumbled into one of the less-damaged huts and collapsed onto a pile of furs, Alfred following close behind.

"You can sleep over there," Paul said, gesturing to a corner of the hut. "And don't snore. I need my rest."

Alfred nodded obediently and curled up in the corner, his small frame trembling with exhaustion.

Meanwhile, Paul closed his eyes, the events of the day replaying in his mind. 

He had slain the alpha Stalker, and gained a servant—albeit a strange and scrawny one.

But as sleep finally claimed him, one question lingered in his thoughts:

'What had driven the rabid beasts to attack the settlement?'

***

The Next morning.

When Paul awoke, the first rays of sunlight were filtering through the cracks in the hut's walls.

He sat up, his body stiff and sore, and glanced over at Alfred, who was already awake and rummaging through a pile of supplies.

"Morning, Alfred," Paul said, his voice rough with sleep.

Alfred jumped, startled, then turned to Paul with a nervous smile.

"Good morning, master! I found some food. Not much, but it will help."

Paul nodded, stretching his arms. 

While looking at the goblin that seemed eager to please him.

Eventually he asked the question that was bothering him.

"Good. Now, tell me something, Alfred. Those rabid beasts—do you know why they attacked your settlement?"

Alfred's expression darkened, and he hesitated before answering.

"The beasts… they have been growing bolder, master. Attacking more villages, more tribes. Some say it is because of the… the Shifters"

Paul's golden eyes narrowed. "The Shifters? What do you know about them?"

Alfred shook his head. "Not much, master. Only that they are feared by all. Some say they control the beasts, that they are the reason the wilderness grows more dangerous."

Paul frowned, his mind racing. The Shifters—those mysterious, malevolent beings his mother had warned him about that could transform into any race they wished.

If they were behind the attacks, then the wilderness was far more dangerous than he had realized.

"Alright, Alfred," Paul said, standing and grabbing his greatsword. "Looks like we've got our work cut out for us. Let's move."

Alfred scrambled to his feet, his eyes wide with determination.

"Yes, master! Alfred will follow you anywhere!"

Paul chuckled, shaking his head.

"Let's hope you're as good as your namesake, Alfred. Because something tells me this journey is just getting started."