Primordial Heir: Nine Stars

The silence after the first battle didn’t last long. For the next two days, the trio patrolled the Eastern Pass and its winding side canyons. The goblins were like weeds; crushing one patch just revealed another. Small scavenging parties, hunting groups, stragglers from the broken village—they encountered them all.

But now, they were a team, a proper one when those weren’t fighting. The initial, explosive coordination settled into a smooth, lethal rhythm. It was like watching a well-oiled machine made of earth, wind, and water.

They were moving through a narrow, icy canyon when chittering echoed from above. Goblins dropped from hidden ledges, falling on them with crude daggers.

Levy didn’t flinch. She didn’t even form a full dome.

”Aqua Shell: Personal.”

Three individual, form-fitting bubbles of water flashed around each of them just as the goblins landed. The attackers slid right off the slick, resilient surfaces.

Before the goblins could recover their footing, Adam was among them. He didn’t use his heavy crush. He used precision instead.

”Gravity Punch!”

His fist, made momentarily super-dense, shot out with the speed of a crossbow bolt.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

Each strike took out a goblin with terrifying efficiency.

Azalea, meanwhile, didn’t even use her bow. She watched the shadows on the canyon walls. She saw the distorted shape of a goblin aiming a spear from a crack above Levy. With a gentle exhale, she used ”Wind Gust!”

A focused blast of air shot straight up, not to hit the goblin, but to slam the spear back into the crack, pinning the creature by its own weapon with a surprised yelp.

It was over in seconds. They shared a look—Adam gave Levy a thumbs-up through her watery bubble, Azalea gave a slight, approving nod. They moved on.

The following day, the trio moved early.

They found a rickety rope bridge spanning a deep, misty chasm. It was clearly a goblin transit route. As they were halfway across, a larger band of goblins swarmed onto the bridge from the far side, sawing at the ropes with rusty knives.

”Levy, stabilize!” Adam ordered, his voice calm.

Levy knelt, placing both hands on the bridge’s planks.

”Water Weave: Binding.”

Water seeped from her palms, flowing into the fibers of the ropes and the wood, instantly freezing solid in the cold air. The bridge became a rigid, icy structure. The goblins’ knives screeched harmlessly against the reinforced ropes.

Adam charged down the now-solid bridge. Azalea provided covering fire. But this time, she did something new. She didn’t just shoot arrows. She shot ”Homing Wind Arrows!”

She loosed three arrows at once. They zipped through the air, curved around Adam’s charging form, and each found a different goblin’s hand, knocking the knives from their grips.

Adam reached the far side. Instead of a hammer swing, he slammed his foot down.

”Earth Tremor!”

The ground on the far ledge shook violently for just a second. The goblins stumbled, losing their balance. A few fell off the ledge into the mist below. The rest were easy pickings for Adam’s hammer and Azalea’s next, precise shots.

Their confidence grew with each encounter. They were starting to anticipate each other’s moves, to cover weaknesses without being asked.

•••

On the afternoon of the second day, they followed a trail of fresh, heavy goblin tracks up a hidden, steep path. It led them to a high, hidden valley, sheltered from the wind and surprisingly warm from a geothermal vent.

And there it was. A city. Or as close as goblins got. Dozens of larger, foul-smelling huts clustered around a steaming mud pit. The population was in the hundreds. And in the very center, standing on a mound of stolen goods and bones, was their leader.

The Goblin Champion was a monster. Twice the size of a normal goblin, its muscles bulged grotesquely like thousand of worms swimming together. It wore a patchwork of stolen armor plates riveted directly into its green hide. In one hand it held a massive, spiked club made from a petrified tree root. Its beady eyes glinted with a mean, cunning intelligence. Around it, a personal guard of twenty hefty goblin warriors beat their shields.

This wasn’t a patrol. This was the heart of the infestation.

”Okay,” Adam whispered, a fierce light in his eyes. ”New plan. This isn’t clearing. This is a siege.”

”We need to break their morale,” Azalea said, her mind already calculating. ”The champion is the key.”

Levy took a deep, steadying breath. ”I can create a large-scale distraction and control the mob. But I’ll be vulnerable. You two will have to get to the champion.”

Adam grinned. ”Just get us to the mound.”

They didn’t charge recklessly instead, they used the high ground. Azalea climbed a rocky outcrop overlooking the valley, her bow ready. Adam and Levy moved to a position halfway down the slope, hidden by boulders.

Levy began. She closed her eyes, drawing on the moisture in the warm air, the steam from the vents, the very snowmelt around them. She raised her arms, and the air grew heavy.

”Torrential Downpour: Flash Flood!”

It wasn’t rain. It was a sudden, localized deluge. A thick curtain of water fell from a clear sky directly onto the center of the goblin village. The effect was immediate chaos. Huts were flattened. Fires were snuffed out with great hisses of steam. Goblins shrieked, slipping and sliding in the sudden mud.

But Levy was exposed, her arms raised, concentrating. A group of warrior goblins, less affected by the downpour, spotted her and began charging up the slope.

This was Azalea’s cue. From her perch, she became a goddess of the gale.

”Wind Volley: Barrage!” She didn’t aim single shots. She fired a continuous stream of wind arrows, so fast they became a visible, whistling barrage. They rained down on the charging warriors, not to kill each one, but to trip them, disarm them, and create a wall of chaotic, stinging wind that broke their charge.

”Now, Adam!” Levy shouted, her voice strained from maintaining the flood.

Adam exploded from behind the boulder.

”Gravity Dash!” He made himself light and shot across the churned, muddy valley floor like a cannonball, skipping over puddles and sliding goblins. A few warriors tried to block him. He didn’t slow. He switched to ”Gravity Impact” and shoulder-charged straight through them, sending bodies flying.

He was a blur of motion, heading straight for the mound.

The Goblin Champion, enraged by the flood and seeing the dwarf coming, roared. It hefted its massive club and jumped down to meet Adam, shaking the ground.

The real fight began. Adam versus the Champion. It was strength against strength.

The Champion swung its club.

Swoosh!

It cut through the air like a knife through butter. Adam parried with his hammer.

Bam!

The impact sent shockwaves through the mud. Adam was strong, but the Champion was huge. It pressed the advantage.

On the mound, the champion’s personal guard started to move to flank Adam.

Azalea saw it. She couldn’t hit them without hitting Adam. So, she changed targets. She aimed at the Champion itself. Not to hurt it, but to distract it.

”Wind Arrow: Sonic!” She fired a special arrow that created a deafening crack of sound right next to the Champion’s head. The beast flinched, its swing going wide. Adam seized the opening, landing a solid blow on its armored knee with a crunch.

The Champion bellowed in pain and anger. It turned its fury towards Azalea’s perch and hurled its massive club like a spear.

Levy, still maintaining the flood, saw it too. With a cry of effort, she diverted a portion of the falling water. ”Water Whip: Intercept!” A thick tendril of water lashed out from the downpour and smacked the flying club in mid-air, altering its trajectory just enough. It slammed into the cliff face below Azalea, showering her with rock dust but leaving her unharmed.

Adam used the moment the Champion was unarmed. He dropped his own hammer, charged in low, and grappled the beast.

”Gravity Lock: Maximum!” He activated his law on both of them, but he focused the intense, crushing weight only on the Champion.

The Goblin Champion’s eyes bulged. It was suddenly pinned under the force of ten times its own weight. It crashed to its knees in the mud, unable to move.

Adam retrieved his hammer. He walked in front of the helpless, roaring monster. He looked it in the eyes. Then, without a word, he brought the hammer down in one final, definitive ”Gravity Crush” on its head.

The roar stopped. The champion fell silent.

All around the valley, the fighting stopped. The goblins stared at their fallen leader, then at the dwarf standing over it, at the archer on the cliff, at the mage who had summoned the flood. Their morale, as Azalea predicted, shattered completely.

With a collective shriek of terror, the entire village broke and ran, scrambling over the valley walls, abandoning their home forever.

Levy let the downpour cease, gasping for breath. Azalea lowered her bow, her arms trembling from the exertion. Adam stood panting over the champion’s body, his hammer stained with mud.

They were exhausted, battered, and covered in filth. But as they regrouped in the center of the empty, wrecked village, to rest for a moment.