Tereb’s soul was soon in Banst’s grasp. Deep within Banst, the foreign memories implanted in him came to life. Holding the soul felt natural, as if he had been handling them his entire life, but that was only the strange memories’ influence, which had begun to push him to the next step of handling a soul. First came “Soul Catcher,” then came “Soul Binding.”
“Soul Binding” — a technique embedded by the foreign memories to attach a soul to armor. The only problem was that Banst had no suits of armor or mannequins nearby. However, his perspective changed upon seeing his own armor. Though hesitant, since the foreign memories were unclear about the consequences of Soul Binding to worn armor, he had no choice. Goblins were approaching with drooling mouths and animalistic expressions, viewing Banst as a corpse that promised fresh meat.
The gray soul sank into his armor, and a hum of power resonated throughout.
“Your wish is my command, Master,” Tereb’s voice echoed from within the armor.
“Hell’s fire,” Banst spat, jumping to his feet in surprise. The sudden appearance of the voice belonging to the man who had just tried to kill him was off-putting, to say the least.
Goblins also jumped in fright. The monsters hadn’t expected the dead body they intended to eat to suddenly rise and shout. It didn't take them long to recover from the shock, and they swiftly dashed toward Banst to tear the flesh from his bones.
“Human…die!” a goblin screeched, joined by its brethren in a chorus of similarly themed shouts.
“To hell with you all,” Banst hissed and began to run. His speed proved too much, causing him to topple over onto his face. “What’s going on…?” he mumbled, spitting out grass and dirt. A goblin sailed through the air, ready to pounce with its sharp teeth.
“Puppet or soul-bound armor, whatever name you go by,” Banst shouted, “Do something!”
“What should I do, Master?” Tereb’s soul asked in a servile manner, as if he were a butler inquiring Banst’s preference for lunch.
The goblin fell upon Banst, scratching and clawing to breach his armor, while its kin launched themselves in a similar manner behind it, eager to join in tearing Banst apart.
“Help me escape!” Banst's voice boomed. A hiccup escaped his lips as his body suddenly moved on its own. He executed a backflip onto his feet and started to run. “Heed me, Tereb armor, do something about our unwanted passenger!” Dangling from a leather strap on Banst’s armor was a goblin unwilling to let go.
Banst’s body delivered a punch that launched the goblin away, blood streaming from its broken nose.
“No,” Banst said with realization. “It’s not my body that’s moving. It’s the armor!” The armor he wore moved with grace and speed, as if it had been physically trained by expensive masters for years. Noticing the armor was aimless in its escape, Banst commanded, “Tereb armor, take me to the Adventurer side of the battle!”
It reoriented their direction, speeding toward the ongoing battle. The remainder of the goblin horde had created a stalemate, the new black-eyed goblins changing the tide of the battle completely, preventing either side from gaining ground. Unexpectedly, more than a few Adventurers were dying in battle, including those of noble blood.
“Dammit,” grunted one of the Adventurer leaders, struggling to prevent one of the black-eyed goblins from pushing him back. “Goblins aren’t supposed to be this strong…!”
Another Adventurer leader nearby, bleeding from an eye, responded, “This is no longer a Deer-Ranked Quest! It feels more aligned with Wolf-Ranked!”
Adventurers on the weaker side of the battle, where there were no black-eyed goblins, watched in surprise as Banst leapt over them and the goblins they were locked in battle with. The commoners had been given orders to stand their ground. Among them was the ginger-haired Adventurer with a pretty face.
“Banst?!” Cindi sputtered, wholly unprepared to see the “Weakest Adventurer” to have survived this long.
One of the noble Adventurers involved in the plot to kill him spoke, “Where is Tereb, coward? Tell us at once!” The Adventurer was foolish to engage in conversation as a black-eyed goblin took his leg with a rusted sword. Agonizing screams erupted from him before being silenced by the same rusted blade piercing his throat.
Color drained from Cindi’s face. The noble who died happened to be her guardian in this battle, sent by Gerad to ensure his plaything’s survival. Without him, she would die. Her thoughts were affirmed as goblins began to push back her and the rest of the commoner Adventurers. Death swiftly began to approach the Adventurers.
“Coward!” Cindi screamed, seeing Banst never ceasing in his sprint. Tears began to run down her freckled cheeks. Born a peasant with only herbalist arts as an inheritance from her deceased grandmother, she found it unfair. Throughout her life, she had to scrape by to survive. Only now, with the money and lifestyle of an Adventurer, did she feel content with her life, but to lose everything in a single quest – she couldn’t bear the unfairness of it all.
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In her last moments, her hazel eyes wandered the chaotic battle, searching. To think she was in the guild of supposed heroes, yet there was no one who could save her.
Goblins grabbed at her screaming head, their claws almost digging into her freckled skin when their green hands fell off from being cut. Goblin heads then rolled from their shoulders, severed by the edge of a blade glinting under the light of the magic spheres above.
“Banst…?!” Cindi blanched, witnessing Banst reenter the fight, his sword swinging with proficiency and accuracy. The commoner side of the battle began to shift in the Adventurers’ favor as Banst turned into a storm of sharp metal and precise strikes.
“Was Tereb this good?” Banst asked himself quietly, watching his body move like a swordsman of a caliber he’d never been arrogant enough to believe he could become. In his memory of Durehn lay the answer, with the simple reminder that the mannequin could hammer all night and day - it was tireless. That was what Banst had realized about his Tereb soul-possessed armor. Tereb the noble, the living human, could only fight in bursts to conserve energy while considering the length of battle. Tereb, the soul-bound armor, could fight without reserve, never worrying about stamina drain.
The commoner side of the battle had become lopsided, collapsing in on the goblin horde as Banst led a charge to flank the goblins in combat with the noble side.
Banst watched his armor take him into the thickest part of the battle, falling into line when needed, taking the lead when required, and retreating when most tactful. The armor made him dance a dance of war that he hadn’t known existed before. When his eyes scanned the nobles nearby, he found them in a similar, though more tired, state of fighting. They knew from training since young how to act in accordance with the changing tides of battle as well as heeding the command of those in leadership roles.
Banst’s armor was making him fight like he had grown up a noble.
He continued to cut goblins into pieces until he was met with the sight of black eyes upon a scowling green face. A black-eyed goblin had seen enough to know the cause of their weak side falling - it was the Adventurer in cheap iron armor - Banst.
“A clever trick you humans have pulled,” the goblin spat, “to leave one of the more skilled in ranks with the less skilled. Dirty humans, your tricks will not save you!” With a rusted sword, it pointed at Banst, challenging him.
The monster and Banst clashed over and over again, its black eyes growing wider as they fought without a break. Sweat began to pour down the black-eyed goblin’s brow as if a bucket of water had been poured upon its head. Its feet became unsteady, its breath grew shallow - it would not last long at this rate. Half of its rusted sword suddenly went into the air – the creature’s poor-quality weapon unable to withstand the repeated pressure from Banst’s tyrannical blade strikes.
The black-eyed goblin saw its death approach as Banst swung for its unguarded head. None of it made sense. The human had been somehow tireless. No sweat could be seen dripping endlessly from Banst’s brow. No exhaustion could be seen in his face despite singlehandedly pushing one side of the battle in the Adventurers’ favor.
No matter its unusual level of intellect, greater than its kin, the black-eyed goblin couldn’t figure it out.
“Human tricks!” it spat before its head dropped, cut from its body, blood spurting out like fountain water.
“The blood is black…” Banst murmured worriedly as his armor whisked him away to fight more.
Dawn was about to break when the battle finally ended. Littered across the ground were the bodies of both goblins and Adventurers. Only half of the magic light spheres that hung in the air previously remained; some of the conjurers had died. However, the Adventurers had won, as expected.
The only problem was the casualty numbers. Nearly half of the Adventurers had perished.
“It’s because of these bastards,” spat an Adventurer, plunging his spear into the head of one of the black-eyed goblin corpses.
The other Adventurers agreed, but they could not explain the nature of the black-eyed goblins. Never had they seen such might from these usually beatable creatures.
“D-demon magic!” cried out a cleric, stumbling in the dirt away from the corpse of a black-eyed goblin. Others gathered around her as she presented her findings in a fearful voice. “I noticed horns upon this creature's head.” They looked to see that the black-eyed goblin had short horns growing from its bulbous green head. “I used my holy magic then this happened!” The cleric cast a healing spell, and the goblin began to shrivel under the holy light.
“By God!” sputtered one Adventurer. “They’ve been transformed by magic most profane!”
“But why would demons show up this far from the Fallen Grounds?” wondered another aloud.
“The Branch Master must be alerted to this!” declared one.
“The king as well!”
Agitated conversation intensified throughout the field, with no one able to fathom how demon magic had appeared in the Kingdom of Marlinen. A defense wall and sentinels to the northwest separated the Fallen Grounds, demon territory, from the lands of humans, elves, and dwarves. Even if demon influence leaked through the defenses, it shouldn’t have reached this far south to their small kingdom.
“Has a new Demon King risen to power?” asked an Adventurer, startling the others. They quickly hushed her, unwilling to entertain such a horrific thought. A Demon King would mean a demon kingdom had risen, and with it, a demon army. No one in the world would be safe from such a threat.
Meanwhile, Banst had already retreated to the wagons, none of the wagon drivers yet to show up, fearing the goblins. Despite their reservations, the guild's money was good enough to bring them back on time. They would soon arrive for the love of coin.
Banst himself sought solitude and seclusion away from the others. He had displayed too much of the capabilities of his soul-bound armor. Now, with talk of demon magic, maintaining secrecy became paramount, especially considering his strange abilities.
“So, you weren’t a coward after all.”
Banst’s eyes darted to see Cindi’s pretty face, with exhausted eyes and slight bruising, standing at the edge of the wagon.
“Don’t believe everything you hear,” Banst retorted, withdrawing his eyes from her, not in the mood to exchange words with someone who tried to get him killed.
“You saved me,” Cindi continued despite the cold greeting. “And I wish to thank you.” The wagon moved with the motion of her climbing in. “Everyone is busy with the monster corpses and healing. No one is around…”
Porters had been summoned to dress the monster corpses to pluck out gem-like stones from the bodies of the goblins. Mana stones - the cornerstone of magical technology and found only in monsters. They lit the buildings with an abundance of light that a torch could never give and were used in every magic circle item in existence, even the circle that powered the Lifeseal Pact. Life wouldn’t be the same without them.
Cindi suddenly took off Banst’s helmet and brushed her lips against his. “I only know how to express my deepest gratitude in one way,” she whispered, her breath hot against Banst’s skin.