Novels2Search
Cursed Conduit - [An OP MC LitRPG Apocalypse]
Chapter 5 - Just A Flesh Wound

Chapter 5 - Just A Flesh Wound

If he could talk, he’d yell at them to leave him and get the damned train moving. There were kids and elderly that couldn’t fight. They didn’t deserve this hell.

He could no longer see Jok and the others. Only a vague reflection from the far side of the car from the window. They were still fighting.

With a thud, the larger goblin landed 3 feet away from Gris. This one looked different. It’s entire body looked the same, bar the red halfway down its arms, covering its hands completely. He was instantly made aware as to why it looked different. Fire emerged from its hands, covering them in hot flames.

Gris glanced to his left and right. The other goblins weren’t attacking. No, it was as if they were about to watch a show.

Gris’s heart dropped. His hands twitched. Thankfully he still had the machete in his hands. He ignored the blood streaming from his throat. It was weird, but it didn’t negatively affect him in any way. Which was strange. One time he had suffered from a severe nosebleed. After the 2 minute mark, he had already turned wheezy back then. But now, he didn’t feel any different. He felt the abundant energy coursing through his veins, and the strength begging to escape through his fists.

He grabbed hold of the arrow, and yanked it straight out. He spat out the blood in his mouth at the goblin’s feet.

His previous thoughts were wrong. It wasn’t fear, or excitement, or the promise of strength that made him feel strange. It was all of the above. He didn’t have to worry about deadlines, or bosses breathing down his neck, or anything else. The only thing in front of him was the flaming Greenkin.

He was probably going to die. He stopped thinking.

Gris sprinted towards the goblin. He had to find its weakness if he wanted a chance to kill it–

The goblin, getting in a stance like a baseball pitcher, threw a summoned fireball right at Gris. His eyes widened. He flung himself to the floor. All of his Dexterity was put to use as he struck the soft soil underneath him. The blazing ball of fire tore past him. He felt the temperature of the air rise drastically. He couldn’t be hit by it. That was for certain.

He grabbed hold of a nearby stone, clambered to his feet, and bolted to the side. Another fireball arrived, but because he was moving to the side, and not head-on, dodging it was easy with his current speed. He zig-zagged toward the flaming goblin. Just as he was getting closer, the goblin was preparing another attack.

Gris threw the rock in his hand as hard as he could without sacrificing accuracy. It struck the monster’s chest. He was aiming for the face, but it was enough for the beast to lose focus. The fire exploded in its hands, engulfing the creature. The flames stuck to its green flesh as it screamed.

Only its hands resist the fire.

The fire didn’t last long. The monster calmed down, but Gris was already in front of it. Its eyes widened, not expecting his speed.

Here’s the power of a cockroach, you bastard! Gris thought with venom as he put everything into the swing of his machete. He felt the blade connect. Yes! Excitement filled every inch of his mind, but it immediately soured when he saw the monster show him its palm. Fire sparked, spurted, then exploded.

Gris barely managed to raise his arm as the attack struck him directly. He felt the wind suck out of his lungs. He felt the hot fire turn his flesh numb. He felt weightless as he flew backwards. His back struck the forest floor.

Coughing out blood, he clambered up to his feet like an undying cockroach. He looked at the goblin. His machete was still stuck in its throat. It was clinging onto a thread of its life as it looked at Gris with fuming hatred.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Gris then glanced at his arm and grimaced. The flesh on his forearm had melted away. The rounded bone of his elbow had shattered into a point, like a spear. Gris didn’t know how he was alive. He still… felt strength.

He laughed. He wasn’t sure why. But he laughed. He bolted towards the monster and with his shattered, pointed elbow, he plunged it into the eye of the goblin. Its flesh was weaker than the smaller goblins, as he found out from his last attack.

Then, he dodged to the side as a last ditch, weakened fireball spurted forwards. Gris spun, his elbow sunk into what was left of the beast's throat. It fell.

[You have defeated a Level 6 - Greenkin Flame-Wilder.]

[You have Levelled up.]

| Level 2 -> 4

| You have Stats to assign.

Placing all 4 points into Strength, he felt the unbridled strength surge within him. He gazed at the surrounding goblins. One of them pulled its bow back, and fired an arrow. Gris didn’t bother to dodge. He just knew that unless it was aimed for his head, or heart, it wouldn’t kill him. The pointed shaft struck his stomach, embedding deep within.

He grabbed hold of it, pulled it out, and stared at the goblin that had just attacked him. It dropped the bow, took a step back, then ran away as fast as its little legs could take it.

Unluckily for Gris, the others weren’t so scared. They pulled back their bows, and fired.

Oh shit!

With his new-found strength, he hoisted the 140ish centimetre goblin in front of him as it tanked the arrows for him. With his new shield, he ran along the train, with over 30 goblins all chasing him. Finally, he reached the last car…

With the goblins hot on his tail, he had to jump up in an attempt to unlock the door. It unlocked. He climbed up into the car, and immediately was met with 6 goblins all wielding blades and machetes. On the floor were at least 15 or so dead men, women, and children.

His eyes fell to a particular child. She was probably 6 years old. His niece was that old…

Gris’s face twisted with rage.

“You fucking monsters. I’m going to slaughter all of you.”

He moved.

***

There was nothing Chloe and the others could do to help Gris. They had to get the train moving. As her Demon – Baron Vespemere – killed the goblins in front of her, her mind was stuck on Gris as he moved to chop the tree down. He was ready to die.

She shook her head. That wasn’t right. There was no notion of dying in his eyes. They were filled with life. Even–even when that arrow pierced his throat, it didn’t… seem to affect him in the slightest.

Was it the System? Did he receive something that none of them had?

Her thoughts returned to when he was attacked by his summon – the cockroach. Her eyes widened. Did he gain something by killing it? She glanced at Baron Vespemere before shooting the idea down immediately.

She didn’t know if a 4 star was rare, but if she had to take a guess, then it was. She could have received a cockroach.

I hope you ran away, Chloe thought. But she knew Gris’s chances of survival were pretty much non-existent.

They moved through the cars slowly and methodically. The further they went, the less monsters there were to fight. In the 12th car, there were only 3 Greenkins. Vespemere and Christian’s dog made quick work of them. She just Levelled up to 4.

As they reached the 13th car, Chloe couldn’t help but clench her teeth. Her grip tightened around the blade’s handle until her knuckles turned white. Those who were slower, didn’t make it. Corpses lined the floor. The wounds were gruesome. The monsters didn’t care about the hurt they inflicted on their enemies. They just wanted them dead – in any which way possible.

A hatred grew.

There were no creatures in this car. They rushed ahead to the next door.

“Holy fuck,” Bo said in apparent shock. His deep voice rumbled.

Chloe peered from around Bo’s massive shoulders. Her jaw dropped. A… man, if that is what it was, was just finishing killing one of the greenkins. Fire had marred, and burnt the entirety of his chest, and especially his arm, revealing the white of bone underneath. From his ear, to about 3 inches up on his scalp, his hair was gone.

She saw his eyes. The hatred… it shot goosebumps up her spine. But it disappeared in the next second.

He looked at them, then sighed in relief. He wanted to say something, but from the wound in his throat, he couldn’t talk.

“Gris?!”