“Why are they here? Isn’t this too far from where they usually roam?” Wyne clutched her staff as she readied her potion, tilting it close to her lips. “Should I? This is the last one.”
Gilbert gave her a grim nod, yet his words betrayed his gestures, “It’s… It’s up to you.”
Zayne grasped the hilt of his blade, then found a quiet spot away from their intense eyes searching the mist for the incoming goblins. He found the queer gem under his satchel, and with a short gulp, slammed it down his gullet.
[A monster gem is consumed, [White-marsh goblin]. You gained 40 essences.]
[You obtained an essence gem: Blue- marsh goblin- grade 0, slot required: 1, +2 Brawn, +2 Agility. Essence ability : Adrenaline: Consume 5 mana to increase your brawn and agility by 5. Lasts 10 minutes.]
A blue essence gem… adrenaline… So that’s why they’re so strong… He closed his eyes and searched his core, opening a blue slot after a period of deliberation. With a rush of will, he slammed the hole shut with his new gem. A surge of momentous power ran through his spine, and with the blink of an eye, he knew how to utilize his newfound skill. 5 points in both brawn and Agility were for someone his level. 5 mana was just enough for him to utilize this skill once.
CORE
Core.Level
5
To next level
350
Max. Essence
500
Race
Human
Mana
5/7
Essence
5
Class
-
SLOTS
Required ess.
Open slots
Required ess.
Open slots
White
40
0/3
Red
200
0/1
Blue
200
0/1
Green
100
-
Violet
500
-
Black
1000
-
TRAITS
NAME
NAME
NAME
Brawn
+9
Endurance
+7
Magic
+3
Agility
+7
The unrecognizable chatter of the goblins echoed nearby. Zayne’s eyes peered through the mist and saw more than 7 of the goblins on the horizon, their silhouettes shuffling about frantically on the edges of his vision. One of the shadows appeared larger than the others; and from the terrified expression from the siblings, he knew what that thing was. A goblin chief. It carried a staff larger than the length of its body, and from a glance, it appeared somewhat stocky.
Don’t fight this one. If push comes to a shove…
They breached the wall of mists and came closer. The mist once bright and cloudy turned ominous from their extensive shadows. Rain paddled the wet soil as their steps entered Zayne’s vision, their gray and green skin peering through the mist as if they were birthed by it. A few more steps and they’d spot Gilbert hiding behind a large bark, gritting his teeth, his brows curling upward from sheer terror. Oswul’s hands shivered as he kept his bow drawn, eyeing Wyne to gauge if this was a fight they were able to take.
A goblin burped as it stopped short opposite where Gilbert leaned on. It scratched its head, sniffing about, then sensed something amiss on the other side of the tree. Oswul winced, switching his aim to the goblin, whispering something under his breath; a prayer, or a curse to the Gods, both seemed to be accurate, judging from the expression on his face.
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The goblin peeked past the roundish bark, its eyes glowered upon witnessing Gilbert’s still figure, then shrieked, but not before an arrow slammed the back of its head, tailed by Gilbert’s horizontal slam against its hard skull. It died instantly from their combined attacks.
“RUN!” Zayne called out from his position, “That way!”
The siblings blitzed the marshes with a panicked sprint. “This is my last magic!” Wyne said, “[Fortify Brawn]”
A surge of energy gave their legs more push to traverse the wet bog. Oswul led the group, he was always the one who knew where to go. “We’re a few more minutes away from the entrance, once there, the other adventurers can help!”
Or we’ll be leading them to their deaths, Zayne thought as he studied the pursuers behind him. A few arrows nicked the wet soil as he ran, splattering brown mud on his trousers, while Zayne noticed he had gained distance. At their pace, they’d escape the goblins within the next few minutes. However, that would be true as long as they maintained this speed. Stamina proved to be their demise, evident from Wyne’s ragged, almost rasping breaths.
“Why are they patrolling so far outside where their camp is?” Wyne’s voice echoed along her hurried footsteps, ever so slowly catching up to Zayne since her speed paled compared to the others. “This makes no sense!”
The goblins will catch up on her, no doubt. Dilemma struck in the form of Wyne’s paling skin, her stamina had run out, and sooner or later, her body would give in.
“Run,” Zayne bit his lips, sucking in air as he breathed out his words. Her pallid face ashened from exhaustion, and her pace slowed from a sprint to a jog. “Gilbert!” Another arrow pierced the muddy soil, creating a hole beside his pattering steps, “Gilbert! You need to carry Wyne!”
Gilbert turned his head back, showing a similar shade of ash, but his complexion showed the liveliness Wyne lacked. His eyes widened; “Okay!”
“I’m fine-“
Zayne spotted it; a movement akin to how the mudsharks traversed the muddy soil. With a snap, a tendril of roots shot from the undergrowth, catching Wyne’s legs by surprise. Perhaps it was luck, or it was fate, but Zayne’s position allowed a swift disentanglement. “No time to argue.” His voice husked from the lack of breath, “Leave with the others. I’ll divert their attention.” Multiple burrowing movements followed, and Zayne slammed his legs against the soil, halting to a full stop. Magic. It’s from the chief. Now I have no choice but to fight, or…
“Zayne!”
“Take her!” He said. He wasn’t about to lose his dearest friends again. Not again. Not when he had a chance to make things right. “I won’t engage them, I’ll simply draw their attention away. Go! Call for help once you find the others!”
Gilbert’s face sank, his lips quivered and his head lowered, silencing Wyne’s constant protests. “We’ll come back!” He cradled Wyne’s thrashing figure and bolted. Zayne’s hips trembled. His eyes were emboldened with sheer will, and he dashed in the opposite direction. The marshes felt colder on his skin.
The siblings’ figure faded into the mists.
Curving his path into the cover of the trees, Zayne waited a long distance away from the approaching steps. The figure of the chief with its large, sluggish steps breached the mist directly into his view, followed by a bunch of speedy goblins at its side. No trace of exhaustion in their faces, Zayne noted as he stalked them behind the cover of the trees. He numbered the goblins from a sweeping scan around the thicket. 9 goblins, including the Chief, No chance of fighting them all by myself. But he had to buy time.
He traced them from the sides, using the cover of gray barks and the mist as shade from their prying eyes. Veiled by distance, he slide ever so closer to behind their ranks, noting a few stray goblins he could kill without much noise. Their throats. He thought, leaping from a tree and spying on a lone goblin. Can’t hesitate. Time is running out.
Inhaling a large lungful of air, he pounced. “[Adrenaline]”
A bolt of unknown power convulsed from within. In a jump, he closed the gap between them with ease. 5 Agility nigh doubled his speed, and it showed from the blur in his vision as he reached the unsuspecting goblin. With both fortify Brawn and his Adrenaline, its neck snapped instantly from a simple stab. Zayne put his palm above its head, extracting its gem when it died in a single motion, then bounced upward with its spear, using the mist as his cloak. Ten minutes. He thought as he scoured the goblin’s back line.
How strange; the goblins pursued them with a passion he couldn’t comprehend. It almost felt like they were aiming to kill them.
With their frantic chase, no doubt a few goblins fell behind and went astray. Zayne netted two more clean kills before one of the goblins screamed, garnering the chief’s attention. He’d managed to retreat far enough to lose their sight, but his heart skipped a few too many beats regardless. He stored all the extra gems he’d acquired; he had 2 left after the previous hunt, and the next three gave him 5 gems in store.
The chief roared, and the goblins halted. The mist thickened on the bog, the trees sway, their deathly fingers pointing to the skies as if heralding the approaching sunset. Soon, the horn would blare. 6 more goblins remained, each steeling their senses toward any sudden attack. At least the siblings were safe now. He sighed, somehow relieved, even if danger persisted all around him. Fortify brawn had run out, and adrenaline had about half its duration remaining.
He circled their position, intent on keeping them under his vision; afraid that if they lost interest in him, they’d resume their chase.
“Found you.”
A husky voice whispered behind his nape. Zayne turned around, only to see the hilt of a blade slamming him unconscious.
###
“Stole-… it… H-… dare…”
Zayne woke up to a frenzied whisper inside a dark, timbered hut. The night moon scoured the skies, peering past the dense fog wreathing the marshes. He kept his breathing steady and his lips shut and studied the man that had blindsided him. Unrecognizable squabbles writhed from the gaps between the shoddy planks that seemed to creak from the scuttling breeze. Both sets of his limbs were strapped to the walls with steel chains. No blades and daggers on his waist, no way to escape.
He switched his gaze to the candle-lit desk a few steps away from him. Behind the desk stood a cloaked man; tall and brooding with arms covered in wisps of weathered bandages and torn vambraces. The shadow of the night and the contrast of the candlelight formed shadows larger than his body. It squirmed and jerked along with his hysteric, unpredictable movements. In this hut, only orange and the gray of the moon colored his sight.
“I sensed it.” His voice cleared after Zayne spent a few minutes re-orienting himself. “I know it came from you. No way I am wrong. No-No-No-”
The man turned around. Zayne shuddered.
Covered with traces of rotting blood and tiny, squirming maggots, the man shifted closer to him, his eyes jutting outside of his eye sockets. With all the lacerations and holes and puss on his skin, no man could correctly tell which tone of skin this half-dead man had. He appeared alive, but dead suited his description better. “You…” he spoke, his mouth watered, drool splotching with each shift of his feet. “Give me it… The core… The core that man stole from me.”
Stolen core? My core? Zayne’s eyes widened, the steel clutching his arms clamored with each yank of his arm from his attempts to break free. He wouldn’t part ways with it until he died. Never.
“What do you want?” Zayne cursed, “I don’t know what you’re talking abo-”
“STOP LYING!” he trampled the unsteady planks with a massive step; Guy’s stronger than he looks.
I have to buy time. “Fine, Fine… But how do I do that?” Zayne spoke, his voice quivering, “I don’t even know how I got it in the first place.”
“Relinquish.” He spoke, pausing. “Relinquish the ownership. You-” his head twitched, “You- can do that.”
“Huh?” Zayne tilted his head, he’d run out of possible answers to buy time.
A tendril shot from the holes beneath and twisted around his neck, choking his airways tight. “GIVE IT TO ME!” The man’s horrific voice bellowed, sending shockwaves all around his vicinity. “GIVE. ME. ETERN-“
Zip.
His head curved from the punch of an arrow. The tendrils loosened their clutch on his neck and Zayne heaved for air, coughing and wheezing, desperate for relief.
“Found him~” the cheery voice of a person he’d known shot from outside, drowned by the chaotic chatters from the goblins. So they are charmed, that’s why they acted so differently. Zayne concluded, but he was still in peril, and no matter how hard he yanked, the steel refused to give way.
A massive crash split the timbers of the walls in half, and in came Bernard, fully clad in his armor from his head to his feet. His cold eyes detected Zayne, but he spared him no glance as the rotting man snapped awake.
“YOU ANNOYING LITTLE-“ Bernard’s massive blade cleaved the hut and the man in the process. Zayne saw his limp body floating about as tremors shattered their footing, sending Zayne tumbling along with his chains onto the muddy pit of the marshes. Wood dust and splinters filled his vision until they revealed the soil and the trees wavering from the massacre Danya inflicted on the goblins. Each arrow pierced their bodies as if they were air. The goblin chief roared, its feet grounded solidly, refusing to budge as another arrow pelted its shoulder. Then another on its head.
Calm resumed on the desolate image of a destroyed hut and ravaged soil. Only Bernard’s heavy footsteps clashed with the ambient breeze, followed by Danya’s.
“You did great, kid.” Danya’s cheerful voice rang, his figure fading in from the dark thicket, his green and black matching well with the cloak of the forest as if they were one entity. “Sorry we’re late, but we have other wraiths to attend to.”
Bernard approached and shattered the steel sealing Zayne’s limbs with a grunt and a clench of his fist. His eyes remained locked in the direction where the hellish man was sent to. His terse and unwavering glare meant one thing; this isn’t over. Not yet.
A cough rang from the distant grove melded in darkness. Only the waving the branches of the gray grove were seen. Quakes jerked the trees into a violent trashing every few moments or so, and the shrieks of a man grimaced the otherwise calm night.
“Danya.” Bernard’s voice lowered almost to a cold grunt. “Where’s the boss?”
“GAAHHHHH!!” A wail came rolling along the owner’s broken figure skidding into their location. A path of burrowed mud extending from the darkness was carved from his tumbling body, wet with rain and blood, rife with agonizing screams. “Yo-You… How-”
The shadows curved, forming into the shape of the dark-haired man from two nights before. Black on black, his figure was nigh undetectable even under moonlight. Two pairs of blue, smoldering eyes opened, revealing his ungodly presence, and he slid his way atop the man covered in bandages and puss. Zayne never once expected that the half-dead man would cower under the presence of another, but the looming figure of the darkness seemed to freeze his soul.
“S-Stop…” He begged, his once maddened voice quavered, “You’re sent by… by-“
A splash of blood trailed the slice of a shadow.