Chapter 74: The Pink Goblins

On the Northeast of the Nar realm, there stood a flaming forest. The branches and leaves of the flame trees burned for eons, shading black ash as new flaming twigs and leaves replaced the old. Black soot covered the ground and flaming trees obscured the sky, placing the forest in a landscape of black, red, and orange panorama.

Within the depths of this Flaming forests lived the pink goblins. An ancient race of the Nar realm, the pink goblins were few in numbers and rarely seen in the Battle of Wars. They neither lived off the resources provided by the races nor earned their living environment through the competition.

This applied to all the ancient races.

In a sense, the ancient races were similar to the Werewolf clan, their dwelling area being created by their ancestors. And aside from them, no other races were able to live in the place. As such, the other races of the Nar realm saw no point in shedding blood over an uninhabitable land.

This excused the ancient races from taking part in the Battle of Wars. This also distanced them from the other races of the realm, their plight and struggles unknown.

At this moment, inside the flaming forest, a gruesome battle for survival was taking place.

"Ian, go! Take the remaining fledglings and leave from here! Our race cannot be wiped out like this!" A tall man, with fair skin and pink eyes, hollered as he fought against a black shadow.

The shadow menacingly swung a huge hammer, smashing it down on the man's head. The man's figure morphed, splitting in two. A split second later, there were now two of the exact same copies of the man, surrounding the dark shadow.

Pink blood flowed, glossy limbs flew through the air, as the fearful cries and screams of children and women reverberated through the blood scented forest.

"Father, I cannot leave you! We will live and die together. Our Pink Goblin race is not afraid of death!" The man, Ian, hollered back as he swung his sword, splitting a smoky shadow in two.

"You do not understand, Ian. This is not only about the Pink Goblins. This is about the whole Nar realm. This are shadow armies!" His booming voice was like a thunderbolt, striking ferociously and ruthlessly onto the hearts of the fighting goblins.

Every one of them froze in shock, fear and trepidation settling in their stoic expressions.

"Shadow armies? Did you just say Shadow armies, Chief Mein?" A tall, white haired goblin reiterated in shock, not able to believe his ears.

Sighing sorrowfully, the chief looked over his remaining race, his eyes full of grief and pain.

"Yes, the shadow armies, Ulain. The shadow armies. And that, is why you must all leave right now! Because if you do not die in this struggle, then you will certainly turn into a puppet of the dark magic wielder by the end of this fight. And as you should all be aware by now, we are not going to win this battle." Tears streaming down his face, the chief sadly looked at his only son, Ian.

"Ian, I want you to leave right now, because I do not wish such a fate upon you. I want you to leave and warn the six supreme clan of the impending danger. You need to go, because you are the next leader of the Pink Goblins. Our race can be exterminated, but we cannot become the puppet of the dark magic wielder. Understand?" The chief hollered.

"But father, how can I leave you behind? That is not the way of the Pink Goblins!" Ian refused to accept his father's commend.

The Six Supreme Clans? What have they ever done for the Pink Goblins? When have they ever bothered with the affairs of the ancient races? For them, their own survival came first. So, why should he leave his race behind to warn those beasts of danger about to befall them?

If anyone asked for his opinion, Ian would say 'they more than deserved what was about to befall them'!

"This is my order Ian! Ulain, you take him away! We do not have much time left!" Screaming, Chief Mein charged at a black shadow targeting a group of fledglings.

"Our race cannot become slaves to the dark magic wielder!" He shouted in rage.

"Master Ian, we need to go. This is the chief's order and what is in the best interest of the Pink Goblins!" Ulain pulled on Ian's arm as he dragged the frozen kid away.

He did not want to leave his chief and racemates behind as well. He knew, once he left today, he would never see the mates he would be leaving behind. However, he also knew it was not time to be emotional. He had to think logically. He had to consider the whole picture.

This was more than about the Pink Goblins. This was about the Nar realm, and possibly, the entire seven realms.

"No! I cannot leave. I will not leave!" Ian pulled his arm free and dashed into the melee before Ulain could respond.

"Ian!" Ulain cried in disbelief and chased after him.

"Ian, we need to go!"

"Ian, get out of here!"

In the ensuing melee, shouts and cries repeatedly rang out, all calling Ian, who was madly slashing at dark shadows.

He refused to leave.

As such, the fierce struggle continued until late into the ice night. The flaming trees cooled, their fierce flames burning out as the chill of the Nar realm night settled in.

Huff!

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Huff!

Huff!

The Pink Goblins desperately kept their eyes open, their breaths fogging before their faces as they roughly breathed in the chilly air. Their fair, delicate skins offered no protection against the cold nights. Their only source of warmth were their Ice Huts, which were destroyed in their first exchange with the black shadows.

With the passage of time, they grew weaker and weaker, their strength falling below the level of even their worse conditions.

"Ian...you...should...have left when...I told...you so." Chief Mein rasped, getting the words out with difficulty.

After sustaining more than ten slashes, his wounds bled profusely, his lifeblood seeping out with every drip. He no longer had any hope left. This would be the end of his struggle.

Recalling their difficult, but peaceful life thus far, Chief Mein had no fear and felt no pain at his immortal life coming to an end. His only regret, was his son Ian. He could not see him die before his eyes, nor could he imagine him becoming a puppet of the dark magic wielder.

However, if he had to choose between his life and death, as a father, he wanted his son to live. Even if that meant pushing him towards the deep end.

"Father, I have no regret. I would rather die with my racemate than survive alone. As for the Six Supreme Clans, let them deal with the problem when it gets to them. If they are not able to even accomplish such a task, they do not deserve to called the supreme clans." Ian nonchalantly wiped off the blood on his face, raising his sword back up.

He had no regrets.

Dying with his race was more than he could ask for.

"Since we have already gotten to this point, there is no point in saying anymore. Today, we die fighting!" Ulain hollered, charging directly into the shadow before him.

"Yes! We die fighting!" The rest of the remaining Pink Goblins boomed in response.

"We die fighting!"

Exhausted, drained, and tired, but their fighting spirit was still strong. Their white skin glowed as their pink eyes flashed with a fierce light.

Disregarding everything, they charged forward.

"Sigh, its fine if you want to die. You can go ahead and die. But how will that benefit my plans?"

The soft, gentle voice drifted slowly into the bloody field, seeming ethereal and otherworldly in the frosty, metallic environment.

The gentle breeze stilled, the lurking shadows froze, and the pink goblins looked around in confusion.

"Who's there? Come out if you dare!" Ulain yelled into the shadows, not able to pinpoint the direction the voice came from.

"Dare? Why wouldn't I dare? Am I afraid of appearing before a dying race?" The disdain and mockery was clear, not needing any more fuel to provoke the Pink Goblins hostility.

In the next instant, a sea of red-gold flame gushed into the field, scorching and burning all the smoky shadows to crisp.

"Ahhhhh!"

"NoOOOOOO!"

"Ahhhhh!"

Howls and shrieks of pain and agony resounded in the chilly night, the red-gold flames melting and defrosting all the frost in the region, as they relentlessly burned the shadows.

In the blink of an eye, the malicious and sinister black shadows the Pink Goblins have been desperately battling for a whole warm morning and ice night, were reduced to dust.

In the ensuing silence, a lone shadow casually strolled through the macabre of blood and broken limbs, appearing leisurely before the distraught Pink Goblins.

The figure was clothed in a grey blouse and heavy skirt, her waist-length red-gold locks gleaming in the desolate background as her violet pupils glowed brilliantly with a golden light.

Standing amidst the blood and gore, she seemed like a sacred being gracing the desolate lands, spreading her untainted, pure light and mercy upon the unfortunate and wretched creatures.

"Dare? Why wouldn't I dare? What could you possibly do to me?" With her arms across her chest, her back leaning against a flame tree, she disdainfully smirked.

This figure was Versailles.

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