The goblin nest reeked of decay rotting hides, half-eaten livestock, and the faint copper scent of dried blood. Liora stayed at Bjorn’s flank, her mana threads tightening traps around fleeing stragglers, guiding arrows of light into weak points. She was efficient, sharp, and calculating ensuring nothing escaped.
Bjorn, on the other hand, was thunder and chaos given flesh. Mjolnir’s Bane whirled in his hands like an extension of his rage, each swing crushing bodies into the mud.
But then everything froze.
A low rumble echoed through the cavern system, followed by a guttural roar. From the darkness of the nest emerged something that should not have been there: a Goblin King. Massive, hunched, its flesh armored with jagged bone plates, and its crown a grotesque growth of horns glimmering faintly with corrupted mana.
Liora’s eyes widened.
“This… shouldn’t be here. Kings only rise when goblins form empires. This was supposed to be a nest.”
The king’s gaze fixed on Bjorn and Liora, and the cavern shook as it slammed its club down, sending shockwaves through the ground. Bjorn staggered for only a heartbeat before planting his feet.
He smirked.
“Finally… something worth breaking.”
Liora hissed.
“Don’t get reckless”
But it was too late. Bjorn roared, his aura flaring as mana surged violently around him. Raising his axe to the sky, he called upon one of the gifts the Oracle warned him to use sparingly:
Stormbringer.
The sky above the cavern split open as though the heavens themselves had answered his call. Thunder cracked like war drums, and from the tear in the clouds descended bolts of divine lightning, converging on Bjorn. His veins glowed white-blue, his axe sparked with furious light, and every breath he exhaled was thunder.
When he moved, the cavern lit up as if it had swallowed a storm. His strikes cracked the earth and shattered walls, each swing carrying explosive bursts of thunder. The Goblin King swung its colossal weapon, but Bjorn ducked beneath and retaliated with a downward slam of lightning that tore through the beast’s armor.
And then came the escalation.
Bjorn bellowed, raising his hand skyward.
From the storm above, dragons of pure lightning uncoiled, their serpentine forms writhing in the clouds. They shrieked like furious spirits and dove at his command, slamming into the king with cataclysmic force.
The Goblin King screamed, its flesh burning, its armor melting, yet it pressed on. Liora struck from behind, weaving radiant blades of mana into its weak points, while shouting:
“Bjorn! Control it you’ll tear yourself apart!”
But Bjorn was in the eye of the storm now—half divine, half berserk. He pressed forward with fury, until the cavern itself collapsed in flashes of lightning and stone.
When the dust settled, the Goblin King lay broken, charred black, its crown shattered.
Bjorn, kneeling in the rubble, smoke rising from his shoulders, looked up with a feral grin.
“That… was a fight.”
Liora, breathing heavily, studied him with a mix of awe and fear.
The Oracle’s words echoed in her mind: “A man who wields storms is as likely to destroy himself as he is his enemies.”
The world had just witnessed the descension of a storm god’s will upon mortal soil and it had chosen Bjorn as its vessel.
YOU ARE READING
Game Over, Reborn: The Final Save File
AdventureOrion was once a legend at least online. In his twenties, he was a pro gamer with a devoted fanbase, crushing tournaments and streaming to thousands. But that was a lifetime ago. Now at forty, he's single, broke, working a soul-crushing fast-food jo...
