Chapter 321 Despair and Sorrow

In the farthest corner of the farm, they found a goblin who had been subjected to the most horrific torture. His limbs were splayed out and nailed to a wooden frame, his body a canvas of scars and fresh wounds. His belly was cut open and his guts wrapped around his neck, choking him. His breathing was shallow, his eyes dull and unfocused. Timbo approached him, his voice trembling.

"Hold on, brother. Just hold on a little longer. We're here to save you."

The goblin’s eyes flickered with a faint glimmer of hope, a spark that had not yet been extinguished by the relentless cruelty. Hermit placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"We’re getting you out of here. All of you. Just hold on."

Timbo whispered words of hope to every goblin he passed, urging them to prepare for the escape. Hermit, meanwhile, used his position to quietly spread the message, his heart broke each time he saw the face of his kin twisted in pain and despair.

Back in the tunnel, Suzuka and her team prepared for the coming battle. Swords were sharpened, spells were prepared, and hearts were steeled. They knew that the success of the mission depended on their ability to strike fast and protect the fleeing goblins.

As night fell, the breeding farm was eerily quiet, the complete opposite of the turmoil that brewed beneath the surface. Timbo and Hermit returned, their faces grim.

"It’s done," Hermit whispered.

"They’re ready. As soon as we give the signal, they’ll make a run for it. At least the ones who can walk."

Suzuka nodded, "Then let’s do this. I'm sick of waiting in this disgusting stench. The sooner we slaughter these damn goblins the better."

Hermit, with his hunched frame and jittery movements, scampered up to Suzuka, his eyes wide with a mix of desperation and anxiety. His meaty ears twitched nervously as he spoke, his voice a high-pitched whine, thick with his goblin accent.

"Master! Master, wait, please!" he squeaked, his bony hands wringing together in agitation. 

"We can't just charge in now! No, no, no! The weak ones, the poor slaves who can't walk on their own, they'll be killed, butchered! Please, let us try to sneak 'em out, use the night when the guards be slackin' off the most. We goblins, we know the night, we do! We can move like shadows, quiet as mice! We do, we do!"

Hermit's face contorted with pleading, his eyes darting around as if expecting danger to leap out at any moment. He crouched lower, his voice dropping to a whispery hiss.

 "If we charge now, the weak will be crushed, Master. Please, let us at least try. We be careful, so careful. On the first sign of trouble, I'll give a signal, a big loud one! Then you can attack, yes, yes, then we strike hard!"

He tugged at the hem of Suzuka's robe, his eyes wide and imploring, his entire body trembling with urgency. His voice cracked with emotion, his eyes filling with tears that made his already large, bulbous eyes seem even more pitiful. He dropped to his knees, clutching at her robe with both hands now, his face a mask of raw, pleading sincerity.

"Please, Master Helen, I beg you! Let us save the weak ones, the little ones who can't fend for themselves. We goblins, we take care of our own, we do. Just give us a chance, just one chance! We can do it, I swear on my goblin heart! Please, let me and Timbo at least try. Give us this chance to save them. Don't let their lives be snuffed out like tiny flames in the wind. We owe them that much, Master. We owe them hope!"

Suzuka looked down at Hermit, his raw desperation and earnestness doing nothing to move her. 

His voice lowered to a fervent whisper, his words rushing out in a torrent of desperation.

"Master, these goblins, they're our kin. They're like us, beaten and broken, but still clinging to life. Still hoping for a miracle. Give us this chance to be that miracle, to sneak them out of this hellhole while the guards are drooling in their sleep. Let us be their saviors in the night. Please, Master, let us try."

His pleas were not just words; they were the desperate cries of a creature who had seen too much suffering, and who knew the stakes all too well. She nodded slowly, her expression softening just a fraction.

"Alright, Hermit," she said, her voice firm but understanding.

 "You haven't failed thus far, why the hell not. We do it your way. But be quick, and be careful."

Hermit’s face lit up with a mix of relief and resolve. 

"Thank you, Master! Thank you!" he cried, scuttling away to gather his fellow goblins, his movements a flurry of frantic energy. 

"We save them, we will! We sneak like shadows, we move like the wind! No goblin left behind, no, no!"

With eagerness burning in their hearts, Hermit and Timbo scuttled out from the tunnel, their small bodies pressed close to the ground as they moved with a mix of stealth and desperation through the breeding farm grounds. The scene around them was one of utter chaos and misery, the horrors inflicted upon their kin.

First, they gathered the hatchlings who were strewn all over the ground like discarded refuse. Their tiny bodies were broken and mangled, limbs twisted at unnatural angles. Each step Hermit and Timbo took was followed by the sound of pitiful whines and moans of pain from the half-dead hatchlings. The sight was unbearable, their hearts breaking with every wretched sound.

With tears streaming down their faces, they packed their meaty ears full of the crying, injured hatchlings. Their arms were soon laden with as many as they could carry, the weight of the tiny bodies feeling impossibly heavy. Each trip back to the tunnel was a test of endurance, their muscles straining under the burden, but they refused to give up.

It took several trips back and forth, their bodies growing more exhausted with each journey. Every time they returned to Suzuka and her team, the hatchlings were unloaded for safekeeping. The sight of the pitiful, injured young ones lying on the ground, waiting for help, was too much to bear. But Hermit and Timbo went back out to save as many as possible.

With trembling hands and tear-filled eyes, Hermit and Timbo continued their rescue mission. The ground was littered with the frail forms of hatchlings, their tiny bodies pummeled and bruised, barely clinging to life. Hermit's heart broke with every step as he carefully gathered the whimpering hatchlings, their meaty ears twitching in pain. The hatchlings' pitiful cries echoed in his ears, each sound a dagger to his soul. Timbo, his face a mask of sorrow, stuffed his ears full of the soft, mewling creatures, cradling them with a gentleness that belied his suffering.

Every return to the breeding farm was a fresh wound. The hatchlings, some barely able to move, looked up at them with eyes that held both hope and agony. Hermit felt his resolve wavering, the emotional toll of seeing his kin in such a state was too much to endure. Yet, he pressed on, driven by a fierce need to save as many as possible. Timbo, too, fought back tears, his hands shaking as he gently lifted each hatchling, whispering words of comfort that felt hollow in the face of their suffering.

The adult goblins were no less pitiable. Many lay where they had fallen, their bodies a clear sign of the brutality they had endured. Some were barely able to stand, their legs trembling under the weight of their bodies. Others were unconscious, their breathing shallow and labored. Hermit and Timbo, their strength flagging, dragged the broken bodies to safety, their muscles screaming in protest. The sight of their kin, so cruelly treated, ignited sorrow within them.

A few goblin slaves who were in slightly better condition joined them, their faces contorted from years of suffering and fear. They helped move their fellow goblins faster, their combined efforts made the process faster. Even in the face of such brutality, they found the strength to help one another. 

With the last of their strength, Hermit and Timbo made one final push. Their bodies were spent, their spirits frayed to the breaking point. As they reached the tunnel for the final time, the enormity of their task hit them. They had saved many, but many more remained trapped in the hellish breeding farm.

As they collapsed inside the tunnel, surrounded by the injured and the dying, Hermit looked up at Suzuka, his eyes filled with a mixture of despair and sorrow. 

"We've done all we can," he choked out, his voice barely a whisper.

 "But there are still so many more."

Hermit was a sight of utter misery. His eyes, sunken deep into his skull, carried the weight of countless horrors. Every movement he made was a struggle, his limbs shaking with exhaustion and pain. 

As he lay there, Suzuka, with a hint of empathy in her otherwise stoic expression, nudged him gently with her boot.

 "Don't worry, Hermit," she said, her voice surprisingly soft.

 "You did good. Now leave the rest to us. Give your fellow slaves the signal, and we'll cover their escape."

Hermit, mustering the last of his strength, wobbled to the doors. His knees buckled with every step, and it felt as if his legs would give out any moment. He reached the gap in the doors and peeked his head through the narrow opening. Taking a deep, shaky breath, he summoned all the energy he had left and whistled as loud as he could.

The sound pierced the oppressive silence of the breeding farm, a clarion call of hope in a place devoid of it. Immediately, the breeding farm erupted into a chaotic ruckus. Goblin slaves, their faces etched with fear and desperation, sprang into action. Goblin slaves clutched their hatchlings, stuffing them into their meaty ears to keep them safe. The small, vulnerable bodies of the hatchlings, no bigger than a goblin's palm, were hidden away, their wide, terrified eyes peeking out.

The panic erupted. Goblin slaves, fueled by a mix of fear and a sliver of hope, scuttled toward the tunnel. Their movements were frantic, their steps erratic. The racket of their hurried escape filled the air, a sound of desperation and fear. Each goblin moved with a singular focus: freedom. The tunnel, dark and foreboding, represented a glimmer of salvation, a chance to leave behind the relentless torment they had known all their lives.

Hermit watched, his heart heavy with a mix of relief and sorrow. His body trembled, not just from physical exhaustion but from the emotional weight of the moment. As he leaned against the doorframe, his vision blurred with tears. He had done it. He had given his fellow slaves a chance at freedom.