Well, I never saw an idea like this for fanfic so I decided to give it a try. Tell me what you think.

Nine thousand nine hundred ninety-five

Throats were slashed and skulls were crushed. The steel stained with putrid blood and guts sang through the hordes of goblins. All exits were sealed and so the nasty little parasites could only beg for mercy or fight for their lives.

Those who begged, he killed first.

Nine thousand nine hundred ninety-six.

His dagger whistles through the air and hits one of the smarter ones in the throat. The spell dies in the goblin's cords and he soon follows. One of the little ones picks up the dagger and runs towards him.

The poisoned wire on its handle killed him one minute after.

Nine thousand nine hundred ninety-seven.

Goblin Slayer groans in pain as one of the goblins manages to pierce his armor. The wound is small but he doesn't waste time and greedily consumes the last of his potions. He crushes the vial into the lucky bastard's eye and let's him bleed out.

The momentary lapse of judgement breaks the momentum and he is swarmed. The parasites scream and cheer already celebrating their victory. He pulls out the scroll and drips his blood all over it. He saved it for their leader. Shame to use it now.

The screaming is silenced as all life is drained from the goblins near him. In seconds, they age and turn to lifeless husks before turning to dust. A powerful spell that cost him a mountain of gold. But it was worth every coin.

Fourteen thousand six hundred and seventy-two.

The dice roll and land. The quiet sound of their harsh judgement is unheard to the Goblin Slayer. The Gods are watching the man that defied them for so long. This little piece on their board has been such a fun little oddity for the last few years.

But Gods are just whimsical children and even they can grow bored.

A special little piece was made just for their beloved and hated Goblin Slayer. A single monster that they cooked up once watching the man slay goblins was no fun anymore.

It looks nothing like his usual prey. There is no crooked nose or wild yellow eyes. The frame is that of a human, not too big or too small. It wears neither king's clothes nor the savage rags. It doesn't scream or speak.

The Goblin God is above all that.

The thing is, of course, not a real God. Not like them. But among its fellow creatures, it was certainly a divine being. Perhaps the Goblin Devil would be more appropriate a name but who care for such little things.

"So... You are the last one here."

Oh poor little Goblin Slayer. So tortured. So broken. So stubborn. So foolish. Could he not see this was his end? Could he not see today was the last day he would swing his sword and bathe in the goblin blood?

Goblin God nods. It raises its hand and Goblin Slayer falls to his knees in agony. Those are not the screams of any physical pain. Physical pain, torture and rape are the work for the grunts and low-life creatures. The Goblin God is above it all.

In his presence, instead, it could make the heroes experience all the pain his ilk had caused. Every single life taken and ruined. Every single scream and cry for help. Every single dying curse and plea for mercy. Mixing and morphing into something no single sane man could handle.

But Goblin Slayer is not a sane man.

He is a monster in his own right. He is insane by all accounts. Less a man and more a weapon whose sole existence is centered around the impossible task. A quest that has no real end for him or anyone who would follow him.

And he was insane enough to not care about that.

Insane enough to charge at the Goblin God.

Insane enough to stab it in its throat and tear it out.

The Gods chuckle as they watch the Goblin Slayer's body count rise. They smile as they watch their creation toss the warrior aside. They sense the confusion and surprise from the Slayer. And they watch another goblin - somewhere in a small village - die and disappear.

Neither Goblin Slayer nor the Goblin God know it but the latter is now tied to all the goblins in their world. He is their strength and their depravity. He is their God and so their lives are his lives to live and lose.

Goblin God believes itself immortal.

So does Goblin Slayer.

Still, the latter charges at the former and fights.

Every fatal strike and shot. Every little trick and spell the man has tucked away in his arsenal over the years. It all does little damage to the monster that might as well be a nation's worth of goblins. In the world, there were more roaches than his ilk and so the Slayer's fate is sealed.

The body count grows as his armor gets more damaged and his weapons worn out. By the time he has killed five thousand more goblins, the man known as Goblin Slayer is standing in nothing but chainmail and rags.

The Gods roll their dice.

The battle continues.

"Aaaaargh!"

Goblin Slayer, who looks so young without his helmet, stabs his broken sword into the monster"s chest and presses on. Goblin God only roars in annoyance before tossing the beaten boy aside. But is he truly beaten?

The dice roll. He is. He is dead.

He is not, the Goblin Slayer once more defies their divine game. What a truly amusing oddity.

No weapons or spells. No tricks or traps. The boy is now more an animal than a man. And he bites and claws at the God like one. Broken fingers and tore out nails. Deep cuts and black bruises. It all matters not to the monster in a human skin known as Goblin Slayer.

Soon, the bodies fall. Goblin Slayer and Goblin God. Both lay on the ground, exhausted and broken. Did the Goblin Slayer kill the Goblin God? Or will the Goblin God rise up and crush the boy's head under its foot?

The Gods share a look, the perverse and demented glee spreading among them. With a smile they roll their dice for one final game with this little piece.

It rolls.

The game ends.

Goblin Slayer must die, so decree the dice.

But Goblin Slayer defies fate once more.

And so Goblin God dies.

§

All across their magical land, the people watch the miracle. One by one, the goblins die and fade away. The heroes that took up the quests and found themselves outnumbered praise whatever Gods they knew as their enemies fall into dust.

The news spread. So do the cheers.

The big time adventurers and heroes pay little mind to the sudden death of goblins all across the lands. For them the goblins were never more than a grunt work with no real money in it. The newbies are disappointed in losing what they believe an easy source of money. A bunch of fools who were spared a terrible fate.

But there are those who are not cheering at all as happy as they may be.

As the whole Guild celebrates the death of all goblins, the small party is sitting somber. They have long since stopped believing in miracles and divine interventions for the good of others. They know better than thinking that goblins just disappeared.

"It had to be him," High Elf Archer voices everyone's thoughts. "It couldn't have been anyone but that damn Orcbolg."

"Say something we don't know," Dwarf Shaman whispers bitterly. He was always up for any chance to drink himself stupid. Now even the sweetest of ales tasted bitter. "Like where the damn Beardcutter is right now."

"Please, stop fighting," Priestess intervenes before the two get into an actual brawl. It's been weeks since the goblins disappeared. Weeks they spent looking for the man that kept this group together and guided them through the worst of battles. "Please... Just stop fighting."

The four members of the party don't understand it but their mood spreads. The whispers carry on the words of the Goblin Slayer. How he sought some ancient place to kill more goblins. How he left his party behind either out of mercy or lack of dsith in their strengths.

The adventurers share their stories of the Goblin Slayer. Some are the tales of his power. Some are jokes of his single-minded pursuit. But nevertheless, all that the people talk tonight is the Goblin Slayer.

Which is why they all fall silent when the man himself walks through the door.

His body is covered in old scars and dried up blood. He smells awful and looks as pale as a corpse. But he walks with the same firm determination that none other than himself ever did. His party wishes to tackle him. Prod him for where the hell he was. Scold him for going in alone. Or simply just thank him for still being alive.

But a single look into his eyes stops them and anyone else from moving.

These are not the eyes of the man victorious and happy. His look is haunted and hollow. Devoid of life. He walks up to the Guild Girl. She has wanted to see him without his helmet for so long. But now it feels unnatural and wrong.

Still she smiled. And still she asks, "What kind of quest do you wish to take?"

Goblin Slayer is quiet. Quieter than normal.

"... I don't know."

His voice is broken. Weak. Lost.

"I don't know."

He collapses a second after. The panicked cries of the Guild Girl the only sound he hears. What was happening to him? Why did he feel so sick? He did it. He avenged his family. He killed them all. He killed all the goblins. He killed them all!

So why...

Why the hell did he feel so damn lost?

§

Illusion scowls as she watches the Truth roar in laughter. The game has ended, once again, as her twisted sibling desired. The other Gods watch on amused. Goblin Slayer has always seemed like such a peculiar piece on their board.

Immune to fate, he was unstoppable force. But as fun as it was to watch him work, Truth was a childish God. And a sore loser. And if the Goblin Slayer wished to defy the fate he created for him. Then Truth would simply write the plot where each outcome led to the man's doom.

Die at the hands of the goblin army and become nothing more than another corpse in their collection.

Die at the hands of the Goblin God and share the same fate.

Or do what he does best. Defy the fate. Spit on the odds. And carve his own path in this story.

The oath that still satisfied the Truth.

For if there were no more goblins to slay, then who or what was even Goblin Slayer? With his mission accomplished, where would this poor little lost soul go? What would he do?

Would he take his own life now that his life goal was done and dead? Would he settle down and start a small family with one of those women that cherished him?

Would he now find another endless quest? Kill all dragons? Kill all leeches? Truth would be amused if the poor little piece decided to kill all Gods. That would quite the game to play.

In the end, it matters not. Because tonight's game is his victory. And seeing his sister Illusion frustrated and angry is the satisfaction sweeter than any nectar.

"Go on then, little Goblin Slayer," the Truth whispers as he watches the boy shake and tremble in his bed. "Amuse us some more."

The Gods roll their dice.

The new Game begins.

And there we go. The Gods are fucked up bastards, I will tell you this straight-up. Seriously though, where do you think Goblin Slayer will end? Will it end with him killing all goblins and dying as well? Will it end with him killing most of them and then the last chapter having him go on another extermination quest?

This is a small story about what happens when he kills them all. A whim of Gods gave him what he always wanted. So where does he go?

If you liked it, be sure to let me know in the review section.