Antchaser wiggled against his bindings, trying to work anything free.
Thanks in part to the implants the goblin had received from Alpha after he had nearly died at the hands of Bosco’s men, Antchaser’s right arm wasn’t fully flesh. Not that anyone could tell at a glance, such was the Dungeon Core’s strange technology.
Most of the modifications to his body allowed Antchaser to interface with Alpha’s tools, but those on his limbs were more… functional. When paired with simpler flesh-sculpting spirit techniques he had picked up from Dr. Maria, Antchaser didn’t even have to carry his old tool belt anymore.
He knew Boarslayer and the others were on their way, thanks to constant updates from Alpha. But that didn’t mean Antchaser would sit back and wait to be rescued.
Yet, nothing was working. Whatever the strange cloth binding him was, it wasn’t normal. Even the small plasma torch he had replaced his pinky with succeeded in nothing but scorching his hand.
Antchaser ground his teeth as each new attempt failed. He wasn’t the same person he was when Bosco first appeared, and Antchaser hated feeling so helpless again.
Suddenly, the strange cloth loosened slightly, and a blade slid underneath. It swept up the length of the bindings, and Antchaser was free. Antchaser gasped, sucking in a deep breath he hadn’t been aware he needed. His vision and brain swam slightly as blood flow returned and bright light assaulted his eyes.
“Huh?” the goblin muttered as a hand reached for him.
Antchaser frowned, reached for the hand, and was pulled to his feet by a grinning… Garrelt?
Garrelt steadied the unstable goblin and patted his back.
“I love unwrapping presents, but I never expected to find a goblin in one. Good to see you’re alive, kid. We were worried for a moment,” Garrelt said, still grinning.
“I… what’s going on? Where are the others?” Antchaser asked, furrowing his brow.
“You got your arse snatched, that’s what. Once we noticed you were missing, me and the others split up to look for you,” Garrelt responded with a chuckle.
“What happened to the thing that grabbed me?”
“It escaped once I tracked you down. When I did, it dropped you and ran almost instantly, though not without a fight.”
Antchaser narrowed his eyes and looked around. They stood in a small jungle clearing with obvious signs of a brief battle. A few scorch marks here and there and a long gash in a nearby tree that looked like it came from an enormous claw.
Antchaser’s frown deepened, and he turned to Garrelt. “What was it, even?” he asked.
Garrelt shrugged. “Not a clue. It was sort of… blurry around the edges. Pretty impressive, honestly, for it to hide from sight even as you’re staring right at it.”
“… I see,” came Antchaser’s response.
Garrelt turned and waved the goblin to follow. “Come on, let’s hurry and meet up with the others. Can’t remember if I ever told you, but those in my line of work have techniques for spotting cloaked or disguised creatures, and mine are some of the best. Whatever it was, that thing’s still out there and dangerous.”
He started walking toward the clearing’s edge.
“Wait!” Antchaser spoke up.
Garrelt paused and turned back around with a frown and a raised brow. “What? We need to hurry and meet the others before that thing finds one of them.”
Antchaser grinned and stuck out his hand. “I just wanted to say thanks… for saving me and all. I know we didn’t get off to the best start, but I appreciate it. Other Adventurers would have left me for dead. I’m glad you’re one of the good ones.”
Garrelt grinned back and reached out his hand to shake the goblins.
“It was no problem. I’m glad to see I’ve grown on you,” the human chuckled.
The two men shook hands and laughed.
Suddenly, something unraveled around Garrelt’s arm and, quicker than a striking serpent… severed his own limb at the elbow.
Garrelt took several leaping strides backward, strange cloth tendrils wrapping around his severed arm and stopping the bleeding.
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He narrowed his eyes, then frowned at his bleeding stump and the severed arm still grasped in Antchaser’s hand.
“Hmm… strange. What gave it away? Has that windbag really changed so much since we last met? Hard to believe that the first person to see through my disguise would be some no-name goblin barely into [Silver Spirit],” said the thing pretending to be Garrelt.
Antchaser tsked and tossed the severed arm away as the thin syringe sticking out of his palm slowly retracted.
“Whose to say…?” he said. In truth, the ‘thing’ in front of him had played the part rather convincingly. If anyone else had been captured, the goblin didn’t doubt they would have been thoroughly fooled. It had even mimicked Garrelt’s spiritual signal somehow.
In the end, however, it hadn’t been the slightly overly boastful attitude, or even its praise of the ‘enemy’ that had tipped Antchaser off.
No... one simple thing had exposed the deceit; the real Garrelt was following Boarslayer, headed to their location, according to Alpha. They were close, too. Maybe the thing before him could sense that, and it had hoped to sow confusion.
‘Garrelt’s’ frown shifted into an earsplitting grin as his face — then the rest of him — rippled like cloth in the wind, distorting his features into a dark nightmare. When the cloth settled, a beautiful young elf woman in flowing, dark blue silk robes stood where Garrelt had.
“No matter…” the woman said in a melodic voice. “I was hoping to keep you alive until I could extract enough information from you, but I’m sure one of your other companions can fulfill that role just as easily. Maybe that cute little mage girl, hmm?” The strange woman — Antchaser wasn’t even sure if that’s what this thing was — chuckled softly.
She covered her mouth with a sleeved hand and grinned widely. “As for you, little goblin, you’ve outlived your usefulness. Fear not, however; I’ll complete your mission here in your stead. I’m sure Enforcer Magnus will be very interested in how you got to this cavern from your own. The other scouts swore up and down we were still four or five days away.”
Antchaser’s eyes widened.
She’s one of Icefinger’s group! Why are they here?! Did they take an alternate route than Bosco? he thought. That would explain why they were so late, and why Alpha had such difficulty spotting them. Most of his surveillance was focused on the tunnel the bandits and expedition party had used. That Icefinger’s men could even find an alternate route through the Deep was troubling. It suggested Icefinger’s influence in the Deep Tribes ran deeper than anyone expected.
The woman’s eyes narrowed into a face-splitting sneer as horror and realization played across Antchaser’s face.
“Oh, sweet, innocent goblin…” she mocked in a sweet soft voice. “Did you honestly think the Boss would let your insult go? Bosco might have been a fool, but he was still one of ours. And we mean to collect the debt.”
A high [Golden Spirit] spiritual pressure slammed into Antchaser at the next moment, thoroughly locking him in place. At the same time, the severed arm beside him twitched, and half a dozen cloth strips unraveled from it, twisting into wicked points. Before Antchaser could break free from the woman’s suppression, the cloth spears shot at him with blinding speed.
Antchaser would have died in that moment if he had been the only one ‘present.’
Instead, Alpha used the goblin’s implants to override his movements, much like he controlled his antborgs, and forcibly threw him out of the way at the last second.
Antchaser wasn’t even aware the Dungeon Core could do that, and the implications weren’t lost on him. Though that matter would have to wait until after he wasn’t fighting someone nearly two greater steps above him.
The goblin hit the forest floor with a roll, his body coming back under his control as his cultivation shielded him from the woman’s spiritual pressure. Even with such a substantial difference in their power, one advantage of [Silver Spirit] was he couldn’t be fully suppressed like an [Iron Body] Cultivator would be. Unless taken by surprise as he had been, that was.
However, his reflexes and concentration would take a severe hit since he needed to constantly cycle Spirit Energy to fight off the effects. There was a reason there was such a big power difference between the greater steps.
Things weren’t looking good, however. Some geniuses from the clans or sects might jump steps and fight on even ground, but Antchaser wasn’t one of those people.
His only chance of survival was stalling her long enough for his companions to arrive.
His eyes never left the woman — or the severed arm — as he slowly stood.
“So you’re one of Icefinger’s people, then? That tracks…” he said. “You and Bosco are both arrogant pricks, after all. I guess it’s true what they say; sparrows who seek the same grain share the same sky.”
The woman threw her head back and laughed. “A philosopher goblin? Who would have guessed?” As she spoke, the arm twitched again, stood on cloth tendrils, and walked back to the woman. “That’s the third time you’ve surprised me in just as many minutes, little goblin. Maybe I won’t kill you after all. I have been wanting a pet.“
The way the woman spoke sent an icy shiver down his spine. The dark glee in the woman’s eyes told him without any doubt that death was the least of his worries if the others didn’t get to him in time.
He shook the thought from his head, however, as Alpha whispered in his ear. Antchaser would only have one chance at this. He had to make it count.
The woman reached down, grabbed her severed arm and held it up, as if admiring her own work.
Then, with no warning, a thin stream of nanites erupted from the bloody stump. The nanite needle cut through the air faster than Antchaser could even process, but the woman’s [Golden Spirit] reflexes proved better. Her eyes widened, and she barely pulled her head back in time.
Instead of piercing her eye, the nanite needle sliced a bleeding gash in the side of her cheek before soaring past. The woman screeched, dropped her arm, and grabbed at her bleeding face with her good hand.
At the same time, Antchaser dropped a small black pellet from a slot in one of his implants. It hit the ground and erupted into a massive cloud of billowing spirit-sense-suppressing smoke, courtesy of Dr. Maria.
Then Antchaser turned and ran.
From behind, he could hear the woman screech out in a rage.
“YOU KNOW WHAT?! I’VE CHANGED MY MIND! RUN, LITTLE GOBLIN, RUN! MAKE THIS FUN FOR ME!!!”