I Am Honkai

"Hhh... hhh..." No!

Even with its trachea severed, the Goblin King did not die immediately. It desperately opened its mouth, trying to suck in air through both its nose and throat, flopping on the ground like a fish out of water.

At that moment, its mind collapsed into despair.

As long as it survived, there would always be another chance.

Unlike the lower goblins who were ruled solely by their base desires, it was a king, a creature favored by the heavens! Why was it dying? How could it die?!

It had to remember this lesson, take more women, breed more kin, and return stronger next time. It would perfect its methods—

But there would be no next time.

"Gaa... gaa... hhh...."

"May I have the honor of disposing of it?"

A cold, emotionless voice drifted from behind.

"Go ahead."

Durandal closed her eyes and turned away. Behind her, the once-raging wildfire had been deliberately controlled and extinguished, leaving behind a barren, charred wasteland.

Drip.

On the scorched, withered ground, a man in tattered leather armor and an iron helm walked forward. His left arm was bound with a small shield, and in his right hand, he carried a short sword.

Behind him followed the human priestess, high elf archer, dwarf shaman, and lizardman monk—all present, all silent.

"Lady Durandal, the battlefield has been cleared."

Softly landing beside her, Rita spoke in a gentle voice.

From the sky, Kiana descended, dismissing her flaming greatsword with an expression of pure disgust. "So this is the so-called evolved goblin leader?"

"Yes."

Watching Goblin Slayer approach, Durandal nodded slightly.

For a brief moment, perhaps an illusion, she sensed a strange, eerie presence around the man as he stared down at the twitching, bleeding Goblin King—as if wraiths from hell were howling behind him.

"Thank you."

Passing by Durandal, Goblin Slayer murmured as if speaking to himself:

"Goblins, regardless of age, are creatures filled with evil desires beneath their deformed, grotesque exteriors. They must be killed."

"No mercy. No hesitation. They are cunning. To prevent them from playing dead, decapitation and dismemberment are the only correct choices."

Hearing this, Durandal's sapphire eyes flickered briefly with an indescribable emotion, but she still nodded. "Understood."

"The only good goblin is a dead goblin."

That single sentence carried the chilling cold of the abyss, freezing the already sobbing, cursing, and writhing Goblin King to its very core.

Shhhht—!

"A slit throat is not enough."

Moving methodically, Goblin Slayer unsheathed his short sword, reaching down to forcibly rip away the crude, dented crown from the dying goblin's head.

"These higher-tier beasts are resilient. If left intact, who knows what tricks they might still have up their sleeves?"

"Goblins are foolish, but not stupid."

The Goblin King watched in horror as the man radiating icy killing intent strode toward it with firm, unyielding steps. It struggled desperately to rise, but the blood loss and oxygen deprivation had drained all its strength, leaving its body cold and powerless.

"Goblin King? What a joke."

Since goblins were naturally bald, Goblin Slayer could only grab it by the ear to lift its head.

"You are nothing more than a goblin."

Squelch!

The short sword in his other hand stabbed fiercely into the Goblin King's chest—just beside the heart.

The Goblin King's expression froze, its face turning pale-green, and its eyes bulging as its grotesque mouth gaped open, revealing a blackened tongue, swollen from oxygen deprivation. Bubbles of blood frothed from its lips, and all it could manage were faint, garbled sounds.

Squelch. Squelch.

Then, Goblin Slayer twisted his wrist, the blade slicing through the Goblin King's heart, producing a grinding, shredding sound, like meat being minced. Blood gushed out violently, painting a grotesque, chaotic scene.

"Nothing but a filthy, wretched—"

With one swift motion, he plunged his hand into the gaping wound and ripped out the Goblin King's bloated heart—utterly unfazed by the disgusting shower of viscera and blood splattering over him.

"...Goblin."

By now, the creature had long since died, incapable of any further response.

"And yet, even this is not enough."

Turning toward Durandal, Kiana, and Rita, Goblin Slayer crushed the heart in his hand with a sickening squelch.

Without pause, he swung his short sword backward.

Sssht—!

With one swift stroke, the deformed head of the Goblin King was severed, tumbling across the ground before rolling to a stop at Durandal's feet.

Flicking the blood from his sword, Goblin Slayer met Durandal's gaze with cold, unwavering eyes.

"Do not let mercy become your weakness. A knight's honor should not be wasted on beasts."

That was the true message behind all his words. They were not just cold observations—they were warnings directed at Durandal and the noble daughters who had come to 'experience adventure.'

This gallant Knight Princess was indeed incredibly strong, but to Goblin Slayer, she was still too soft, too merciful.

She had only severed the Goblin King's legs and made a clean cut across its throat—a merciful death without any damage to its spinal cord or body.

Was it because of some adherence to a knight's code, avoiding unnecessary mutilation of an enemy's corpse?

Goblin Slayer misunderstood nothing.

Observing Durandal's fighting style, he saw efficiency and discipline, an undeniable air of reliability. He was grateful for her assistance.

And that was exactly why he offered his warning—though his tone was harsh, his intent was well-meaning. He did not want her to end up like the Sword Maiden, forever haunted by hesitation and regret.

Catching his meaning, Durandal's soft smile carried understanding.

"I'll remember that. Thank you."

With a silent nod, Goblin Slayer turned away, moving toward the forest's depths.

He pushed aside a cluster of overgrown bushes.

"This isn't over yet."

Following his gaze, the others looked ahead.

Beneath the slope, nestled within twisting brambles, a massive cave entrance loomed.

There was no need to ask—this was undoubtedly the Goblin King's den.

"Eradicate them all."

...

The moment they stepped into the cave, a putrid gust of wind howled through, making Durandal, Kiana, and Rita instinctively narrow their eyes in discomfort.

Goblins.

And not just a few—this was a cramped, enclosed space where hundreds of goblins had lived, eaten, defecated, and died for who knows how long.

Hygiene? Forget it.

Even with the air filtration systems in their Valkyrie armor activated, completely blocking out the stench, just imagining the filth of this place was enough to make them nauseous.

It wasn't just an odor anymore—the foulness had completely merged with the oxygen.

This stench was a physical force, draining their bodies of strength, making their muscles feel weak and sluggish.

This was a level of filth they had never encountered before.

Even during Kiana's self-imposed exile, at her lowest, most destitute point, her living conditions had been a thousand, no—a million times cleaner than this!

As they ventured deeper, the light faded, the air thickened, and the environment grew even worse.

Scattered along the path were, human bones, poultry carcasses, rotting goblin corpses.

And with each step, the stench became more overwhelming.

...

"Rita, you really didn't need to come along."

As Durandal spoke, she casually swung her hand, releasing a compressed air burst that obliterated a swarm of shrieking goblins charging at them with bone daggers.

Their bodies were pulverized, their brains splattered across the walls like crushed fruit.

It had to be said—this Goblin King's lair was surprisingly large.

The tunnels were wide, likely to accommodate the larger goblin variants.

Even the walls had makeshift wooden support beams—crude, but functional.

BOOM!

Kiana, looking thoroughly disgusted, incinerated the remaining goblin warriors to nothing but ashes.

"Gaaaargh!"

The death wails of the upper-tier goblins sent shrieking panic through the remaining goblin grunts, but their screams were swiftly silenced—reduced to nothing but cinders under another explosive blast.

"Twenty-four goblin grunts, two goblin shamans, three large goblins, one goblin hero…"

Retrieving his bloodied hand axe from a shattered goblin skull, Goblin Slayer took a mental count of the corpses, nodding.

"Judging by the size of this lair, most of the goblins must have left with the Goblin King. We should be close to the bottom."

Sssht!

With a rough shove, Goblin Slayer kicked open a makeshift wooden gate.

As they descended further, the passage suddenly opened up into a massive underground cavern.

And there, at the very center, was a raised dirt platform.

Atop it, sitting on a grotesque throne woven from human bones, was a crude, horrifying seat adorned with trinkets made of shattered skulls.

Below the platform, the scene was grimmer still, scattered wealth stolen from victims, human bones littering the floor, charred remains of bodies, half-eaten flesh, left to rot.

One look, and they could already imagine the horrors that had taken place here.

"Ugh—!"

"Urghhh—!!"

The Priestess, despite all she had endured, clutched her staff tightly as she retched violently, expelling whatever little bile remained in her stomach.

A heavy silence settled.

Durandal, Kiana, and Rita exchanged glances.

They saw the same thing in each other's eyes—

A merciless, unwavering resolve.

Without a word, Goblin Slayer strode forward and violently kicked the Goblin King's throne.

Clang!

It collapsed to the ground, sending bones scattering across the floor.

"Just as I thought… You're in luck."

From beyond the platform, a shuffling noise echoed from the depths of the cave.

Goblin Slayer's voice was flat, emotionless.

At the very back of the cavern, behind a rotting wooden barricade, was a pit-like chamber.

A storeroom?

No.

A prison.

A horrible premonition flickered in everyone's minds.

"According to goblin habits, they always keep their breeding stock and offspring in the deepest parts of their nests."

Goblin Slayer's calm words made the Priestess grip her staff even tighter.

BANG!

With a swift, brutal kick, Goblin Slayer smashed open the wooden barrier.

Instantly—

"Aaaaaiieeek!!"

A chorus of sharp, panicked screams erupted from inside.

Kiana stepped forward, her expression cold as she gazed into the chamber.

There—

A group of naked, battered, and filth-covered women lay huddled on the ground, their bodies marred with wounds and defilement.

And in the corner, trembling in fear, were twenty or more goblin infants.

"As long as there's a host, goblins reproduce rapidly. Their infancy is short. If we'd arrived any later, this goblin nest could have grown to three or four hundred strong."

Holding up a torch, Goblin Slayer explained in a flat, emotionless tone.

"What should we do with them? Enslave them, or...."

As Durandal stepped forward, a frail, withered hand weakly grasped the boot of her armor.

Sensing no hostility, she looked down.

It was a female elf—her once elegant features now pale and gaunt.

She had likely been captured recently, as shreds of her leather clothing still clung to her bruised, battered body.

Her face, however, had been burned, the wounds concealed beneath tangled, straw-like hair.

One of her amber-colored eyes still shimmered with a dim light, but the other was lifeless, clouded over with veins of red.

Her long elven ear had been mutilated, the tip gnawed off.

Judging by the bite marks, it had been eaten by one of the goblins.

If not for that single remaining pointed ear, Durandal would have struggled to recognize her as an elf at all.

"Kill them... kill them... I beg you..."

Durandal knelt down, gently grasping the elf's trembling hand.

"I will."

Her voice was cold, merciless—so much so that Rita knew instantly.

Lady Bianca had made her decision.

There was no turning back.

A tragedy.

That's what this was.

A scene so cruel, so violently unjust, that simply witnessing it was enough to make one's soul ache.

And when a tragedy is laid bare before one's eyes—

The only right thing to do is end it.

"Killing goblins requires no reason."

Goblin Slayer repeated those words, once again.

"That Goblin King…"

He paused before adding,

"It was most likely the lone survivor of a destroyed goblin nest."

"Perhaps some naive adventurer, driven by mercy, spared it."

"...."

Ignoring the stench, Kiana exhaled slowly, her voice chillingly calm.

"Brother, can I borrow a weapon? A blunt one."

"Of course. Here."

Without hesitation, Goblin Slayer pulled a solid wooden club from his belt, handing it over.

"Thanks."

Gripping the club firmly, Kiana raised it high.

Then—

She brought it crashing down.

BANG! SPLAT!

"GAAAH! GYAAAAAH!!"

The wailing of goblin infants filled the cave, their screams sharp and piercing.

Kiana's gaze was void of mercy.

Her rage was unfiltered.

"I will exterminate every last one of you!"

Kiana didn't know how much time had passed.

To her, that moment stretched endlessly.

She didn't know why, but she felt a deep, overwhelming need to vent.

Perhaps it was Sirin's DNA stirring up violent impulses within her.

But still—this was her.

This time, she didn't suppress the feeling.

Instead, she embraced it.

She wanted to go back—back to the carefree days at St. Freya Academy, back to being happy, reckless, and lighthearted.

But she couldn't.

The weight on her shoulders would never allow it.

Even after Mei returned from World Serpent and everyone at St. Freya was reunited, she still forced herself to act the same as before, to ease their worries.

But growing up is growing up—

And some things cannot be undone.

The truth inside her heart—only she truly understood it.

I want to shape this world into one that I can believe in…

Teacher Himeko, Sister Selene…

Even just the first step is this difficult.

A perfect solution doesn't exist. All I can do is… keep trying.

"Haaah…"

Panting heavily, Kiana finally lowered the club.

A thick, red liquid dripped from its edge, pooling at her feet.

In front of her—

Nothing but a shredded, pulped mass of bloodied flesh and shattered bone remained.

A sight so gruesome, even the cave itself seemed to recoil.

"Apologies."

She exhaled deeply.

"I lost myself for a moment."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

40 Advanced Chapters Available on Patreon: 

Patreon.com/DaoOfHeaven