My head throbbed as I awoke from a dreamless sleep, the constant jostling of the ground only worsening the pain. My eyelids felt heavy as I opened them, greeted by the sight of a flat, planked wooden roof. Confused, I attempted to sit up, but stopped as a sharp wave of pain shot through the left side of my stomach, like a punch to the gut that knocked the wind out of me. I moaned softly, letting my head rest back down on the hardwood floor until the pain subsided. Carefully, I felt around my left side, prodding the tender ribs to assess the damage. I couldn’t be sure, but they didn’t seem broken, a small comfort, at least.

How did this happen? The thought suddenly struck me. My brow furrowed as I tried to pry the memories from the fog in my mind, only vaguely recalling the sight of charging timber gnolls. Being paralyzed after freezing up. Then flashes of being pummeled as I curled into a ball on the ground. I could still feel the weight of the blows, as if I were being struck by cannonballs.

I was overconfident, cocky, even. I thought I could handle the gnolls just as easily as the hounds. This isn’t a game, I reminded myself. No matter how much power I have, I can’t forget that. I have to assume I only have one life in this world, and I need to make sure I keep it. I just have to avoid getting speared through the stomach or beaten black and blue. Well, any more blue than I already am.

But how the hell did that gnoll get so close to me? It didn’t seem like it used any arcana, so how did it make me freeze up and close the distance? No, besides the three gnolls, there was someone else... the Hooded Thaumaturgist. Had he hit me with some kind of paralysis skill? I was so focused on the gnolls that I forgot about him, as if he wasn’t as much of a threat. How could I have made such a basic mistake? It’s ridiculous.

I closed my eyes and sighed, willing the memories away for the time being. Mistakes aside, I was still alive, there was always a second chance. If I saw that hooded thaumaturgist again, I’d blow him to bits.

With my right arm, I pressed my hand against the left side of my chest. "Helia's Embrace," I whispered, eager to get rid of the ache in my side. I waited, expecting the skill to melt away the pain, as it had done so many times before.

Nothing happened.

"Helia's Embrace," I repeated, more urgently this time, focusing on the familiar warmth that should have welled up inside me. But still, nothing. I could sense the warmth, but it felt distant, disconnected, maybe even broken.

Frowning, I felt panic start to take root in my stomach as I lay here staring blankly at my still aching side. What the hell is going on? Why isn’t it working?

"Fireball." Nothing. I extended my hand. "Freezia." Silence. "Lithosnap." Again nothing.

With each failed skill, my unease deepened, and one question I hadn’t thought to ask before started flashing in my mind, over and over.

“Where the hell am I?” I whispered to myself, my thoughts a jumbled mess. What happened to Lotch, Gwingiel, and Haldir? Did they leave me behind? Where’s the Gnoll? The goblin thaumaturgist? What about those bugbears and the other goblins?

"Calm yourself," a hoarse voice called from behind me, sending a chill racing down my spine. "Ciel, calm yourself; you might pass out," the voice continued.

My chest heaved with frantic breaths. The mild pain in my side barely registered as my head grew lighter with each gasp. "Calm yourself, lass," the voice said again, more familiar now, almost gentle. Ignoring the pain, I sat up abruptly, tears welling in my eyes. A chain rattled around my neck as I turned.

"Gwingiel?" I asked, feeling lightheaded and dizzy from the sudden motion. I leaned back against the wall of what I now realized was a box or rather, a cage. Once everything stopped spinning, I focused on Gwingiel, my eyes widening at the sight of her. Her stoic face was terribly swollen, covered with bruises and large, ghastly gashes. She stared back at me through a partially swollen eye, while the other was completely shut beneath a grotesque mound of inflammation.

"Finally awake, eh?" she said weakly, her voice strained with pain but laced with wry humor. "I was nearly bored to death sitting here alone." A chuckle escaped her lips, followed by a pained, wheezing cough.

She was propped against the wall opposite me, her head tilted upward with a grimace. Her breaths came in labored wheezes. I gazed at her battered body, and my breath caught in my throat when I finally noticed why she was in so much pain. The sight made my stomach churn, and a cold dread crept over me as I finally noticed the metallic scent of blood filling the air.

"Your arm," I stammered, my voice trembling as my eyes locked onto her left limb. It hung limply at her side, resembling nothing more than torn and battered flesh from the elbow down. It was as if someone had taken a mallet to it, grinding the bones with relentless blows. Shards of bone protruded from the mangled flesh in various places. A puddle of blood had long since seeped into the wooden floor of the cage.

She remained still, taking controlled breaths before she responded, "You won't be able to use any arcana while wearing that Mygeus Restraint." Ignoring my question with a weary voice, she added, "It's best to focus on recovery for the time being." Exhaustion weighed heavily on her.

"Is that what this is called?" I mused inwardly as I examined the collar and chain encircling both mine and Gwingiel's necks. The collar appeared to be made of leather and iron. Carved onto both the inner and outer surfaces of the iron were faintly glowing runes that emitted a humming light that resonated against my skin, sending a subtle vibration through the collar. The leatherwork was adorned with inlaid purple gems that shimmered faintly alongside the runes, as if working in tandem.

Aside from keeping us chained to the box, the restraints didn't feel like they were preventing me from using my skills. I could feel the warmth gather within me in my navel, to be precise, but instead of flowing through my body, it just hovered there, as if confused. The straightforward pathway between my navel and my hand that I usually draw upon to use skills now felt obscured, like navigating through a maze of winding paths and dead ends. A knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach as I realized how disconnected I felt to something that should feel natural. I didn't know how I knew this, but it felt wrong more so than when I healed Gwingiel. I calmed myself again, I don’t think all hope is lost, just yet, this collar isn’t stopping me from using my skill, I reaffirmed. if it’s possible, I just need to find a way to force it to work.

I shook the negative thought away. I needed to focus. "Lotch and Haldir, where are they? What happened after I was knocked out?" I asked, my voice filled with trepidation. The last I remembered was Lotch fighting an unusually skilled goblin riding a warg, and Haldir finishing off the last goblin he was battling.

"Forget about them," she scoffed. "Better to find a way to escape ourselves," she replied, ignoring my question.

Were they killed? No, from her reaction, they likely escaped. But it sounds like they left us behind in the process. As much as it annoys me, I get leaving me behind, but Gwingiel?

"What happened to you? Why couldn't you escape with them?" I asked, deciding to change angles. Given how fast and powerful she was, she probably could have escaped just as quickly, if not faster, than Lotch and Haldir. Right now, I doubted we'd be able to get away swiftly enough, especially considering how beaten up we were. Especially with these Mygeus restraints.

She took a few deep breaths before she began. "When the endowed thaumaturgy elapsed, I fell limp as a newborn babe," she confessed with frustration. "I had managed to kill most of the goblins by then, but those damned hairy bastards," she growled, disdain dripping from her split lips. "I couldn't kill the bugbears in time, not while they used the wee ones as shields." Her words lingered in the air between us.

"Are they alive? The kids?" I asked, concern welling within me as I recalled their muffled cries and how their limbs had been bent backward and tied behind the bugbears' chests as meat shields.

"What do you think?!" Gwingiel snapped, her voice seething with barely contained rage. Taken aback, I stared at her. I could see the anguish in her bloodshot golden eye as it bore into me. Her gaze was like a physical force, making me flinch from its intensity.

A wave of shame washed over me, and I lowered my gaze, unable to meet her eyes. What was I thinking? Why did I ask such a thoughtless question when the answer was so obvious? It wasn't hard to believe that someone who could treat children in such a horrific manner wouldn't hesitate to kill them. No, not someone, a fucking monster.

"Open that whore mouth again, dwarf, and I'll gladly fill it with my cock!" A deep, hawkish voice boomed from outside the cage, shattering the tense moment. Before he could finish, something crashed into the side of the cage behind me, rattling the chain around my neck. The force threw me toward Gwingiel, landing just beside her. A moment later, my head exploded with dizzying pain. My vision grew dark as my world once again turned black this time accompanied by a chorus of laughter.

My head spun as I awoke again. The throbbing in my skull returned with a vengeance, it felt like my brain was trying to punch itself into a coma. The side of my mouth was wet with the lingering metallic taste of bile. Unprepared for the acidic stench, my stomach heaved, desperate to expel more, as if that might be a cure. With a groan, I rolled onto my back from my side, trying my best to ignore the swirling nausea.

"You're awake," Gwingiel said beside me. "Don't move so much; you'll make the nausea worse." she said as I used the hard floor, to ground me amid the dizziness.

"How long was I out?" I asked, looking around the cramped cage. I immediately spotted the aftermath of whatever had thrown me across it. A wooden plank splintered inward from what I assume was done by a bugbear’s attack. A chill ran down my spine at the sight. If the attack had been roughly six inches higher I could have had the back of my head smashed in, I got lucky.

"About four hours," Gwingiel replied, letting an awkward silence linger afterward. The dim torchlight cast flickering shadows across her face, highlighting the exhaustion etched in her features.

"Sorry," she whispered suddenly, her voice heavy. "I shouldn't have yelled like that, but please don't ask me about the wee ones." Her voice cracked.

"I never did thank you for saving my life, did I?" she continued, her eyes meeting mine briefly before dropping. "Thank you, truly."

"You're welcome," I replied, breaking the tension as we sat in silence. After some time, unable to shake the dread that had begun to rise within me, I asked, "What's going to happen to us?" A cold knot formed in my stomach.

Gwingiel stared down at me for a long moment. It was hard to read her face, bruised as it was. She worked her mouth as if trying to figure out how best to answer my question. Yet despite her hesitation, I knew what she was trying to say.

"Truly? Prepare for the worst," she said finally, not sugarcoating our situation even a little, before closing her remaining open eye.

The moment she uttered the words, my stomach twisted and reeled in disgust at the terrifying thought of being violated. The cage instantly felt colder and more suffocating, the thick smell of iron from blood and sweat overwhelming. I wanted nothing more than to blast my way out of this damned cage and run far away from this forest. But ironically, this cage was the only thing separating us from those fucking monsters outside.

"Don't dwell on it," she said suddenly, looking at me with a gaze far more intense than before. "I know what you're thinking, so listen when I say it's best we focus on what's important and look for every chance to escape." Her face was more a mask of resolve than optimism. "You're able to move more than I, so check our surroundings," she continued, nodding toward the splintered indent in the wall opposite us. "With any luck, those dumb bastards will give us just the moment we need to escape," she added, sounding more optimistic the more she spoke.

I nodded, seeing the steel in her gaze, letting her words wash over me as I tried to bury my fears under more immediate concerns. I couldn't do anything in this situation, so I might as well do as she says. With a pained grunt, I crawled across the cage toward the splinter in the wall. The wooden plank was splintered just enough to give me a clear view of where we were headed. Since the sun had long since crested the horizon, the forest was bathed in darkness under the dense canopy above, blocking even the moonlight from providing any visibility.

The dense forest loomed around us, shadows twisting ominously in the torchlight around the cage. Goblins flanked the sides of the cage, walking lazily as they conversed in a guttural language. The bugbear from earlier was nowhere in sight; however, I spotted a goblin carrying something over its shoulder just out of view. The puke-colored bastard had my satchel and was eating my jerky. A shiver ran down my spine, but the disgust was overshadowed by the realization that the creature had been close enough to me to take it.

I shook my head, trying to dislodge my wandering thoughts, before looking back through the splintered wood, only to immediately pull back and turn away. A rancid smell buffeted my face as if someone had farted directly in front of me. The odor was unlike anything I'd ever encountered, thoroughly outdoing the stench of rotten eggs. My eyes watered as I covered my nose, which didn't help in the slightest.

The rancid smell quickly found its way through the cage straight to Gwingiel, who had been staring at me for some time now, looking puzzled. "Give it a second," I said, trying not to breathe too deeply.

"Galador's beard, what the fuck is that?" Gwingiel exclaimed in a whisper a few moments later. "Did one of those hairy bastards shit themselves? I can fucking taste it!" She covered her mouth as best she could. I guess she didn't need a working nose to smell it.

At least we're not the only ones suffering, I thought as I looked back through the splintered wood. A few disgruntled voices cursed among the group of monsters, but the loudest came from somewhere out of view and was cut short when a loud clang rang out. Were there others? Could they have taken the rest of the villagers too? I wondered, straining to listen for any more clues. However, none came besides the singing of insects, the chattering of goblins, and the rattling of the cart beneath us on the forest ground.

I leaned closer to the wall of the cage, trying to see past low-hanging tree branches. Torchlight illuminated a stone wall a few hundred feet ahead, partially swallowed by overgrowth. The monsters around the cage began to hoot and holler with excitement as we drew near.

I spotted a stone wall in the distance, illuminated by torches atop it. The wall was old and dilapidated from the passage of time. Missing sections had eroded away and been claimed by wild plant life, with thick vines winding over and through the remaining stones. One entire section was completely missing, as if something had torn it down as it forced its way through. The gate of the castle was gone, leaving an open half archway. The only exterior defense it had was a shallow moat, dug who knows how long ago. The walls were patrolled by hobgoblins, who moved lazily along the ramparts.

A sense of unease settled over me as we approached. A single building stood tall from beyond the wall. A square-shaped tower loomed over the fort like a sentinel. It sat on castle grounds, its lower section illuminated by light spilling from the square.

"It sounds like an abandoned fort," Gwingiel said after my description. "It was probably intended to ward off attacks from beast clans a long ago."

"Well, whatever it was used for before, we're heading in now," I said as we passed underneath the archway.

We entered a large bailey where many of the buildings nearest the entrance had long since collapsed, their rubble now firmly reclaimed by nature. The fort’s central building was no exception, having crumbled with only its tower still standing. I couldn’t tell if the destruction had been caused by time or an attack.

We turned away from the tower, angling back toward the gate, and I confirmed what I had suspected earlier, they had taken many of the villagers, at least fifty from the looks of things. The children were held in a cage on a wagon, while the men and women were forced to walk. Many collapsed to the ground the moment they were allowed to stop.

It was then that I noticed a bugbear, far larger than the others, shoving his way through the tired villagers toward an exhausted man and woman. They were young, perhaps in their mid to late twenties, and stared at the cage full of children, likely at their own. The couple didn’t notice the bugbear approaching from behind until he blocked the torchlight, his shadow falling over them. A sickening knot twisted in my stomach, knowing what was going to happen next.

Alarmed, they tried to back away, but the massive bugbear only laughed. He grabbed the woman by the arm and yanked her away from her husband’s grip, pulling her toward him. He held the struggling woman’s face between his fingers, inspecting her, and said something I couldn’t hear. Then, with a casual gesture, he tossed the crying woman to the other bugbears standing nearby.

Her husband shouted in protest, desperately trying to reach her. But the bugbear silenced him with a single backhand. The man’s head snapped to the side and he crumpled to the ground, unmoving. I turned away from the horrible sight as the bugbears began tearing at the woman’s clothing while she cried, mourning the loss of her husband and her dignity.

I slumped against the wall of the cage and faced Gwingiel. Her face was stone cold, her gaze steady as she stared back at me.

"I think... they're violating people," I whispered, my body growing numb despite the pain in my chest.

"Aye," she responded heavily, sounding disturbingly calm, even as those hair-raising screams echoed beyond the cage. How can she be so calm? Can't she hear them? The cage walls felt paper-thin, as if there wasn’t enough separating us from the nightmare unfolding out there.

Everything around me started to spin. I felt angry, dizzy, and suffocated. Part of me wanted to kick down the walls of the cage and run, run as far away from this horror as I could. But another part just wanted to curl up and pretend it was all a dream.

I felt something forcefully yank me forward.

"Look at me, dammit!" Gwingiel growled, her face just an inch from mine. "Don’t let what’s happening out there kill your spirit’s fire, Ciel." Her breath was hot against my skin, and her voice reverberated with fierce resolve. "Guard it. Feed it with your rage. Let it kindle until you can ignite it and set a blaze so large it burns these rotten bastards alive, inside and out!"

The fire in her eye burned into mine, and I couldn’t look away. I wasn’t made for this world like she is. Sure, I talked a big game, hyped myself up before... but that was when I had power, when I had the means to actually do something. Now, I’m just some dude stuck in a weak helpless body who can’t even use their skill.

How do you not fear what you know is going to happen to you? How do you find something like that?

“I-I’m terrified... I don’t want to die,” I said, my hands trembling, and my heart pounded against my ribs like a trapped bird. “I don’t want to end up like that,” man, I thought. But that’s wrong, isn’t it? I did not want to end up like her. The cold dread inside me only grew stronger at the thought.

"Aye, I reckon no one wants that," she said with a smile. "You elves look young for so long, it’s hard to tell if you're a geezer or a young'un most of the time." She shook her head. "Listen here, lass. As I’ve said before, keep your spirit’s fire burning, don’t let it be snuffed out. You fight, you scratch, you bite, you do everything you can to hold onto your dignity. And when the opportunity presents itself, you grasp the advantage and don’t look back, aye?"

I nodded as she flashed a toothy smile, just as the door to the cage swung open.

A sickening wave of pungent air flooded the cage, catching us off guard. Before we could react, the cage was tipped over, sending both Gwingiel and me tumbling onto the ground. I landed in a heap on my left side, the ground scraped against my skin as a jolt of pain shooting through my chest. The impact knocked the air from my lungs, and I was sent into a wheezing coughing fit. I barely heard the clatter of the cage on the coupled ground behind me.

"Let me see this catch!" a deep voice boomed from behind us. Startled, I turned to see an eight-foot-tall beast looming over Gwingiel and me. It was the same bugbear I had seen earlier. Somehow, his face looked even more monstrous than the others. His jaw was wider, with a prominent underbite, and his expression was menacing, his eyebrows angled downward toward the bridge of his nose.

I watched as he chewed on something bloody, his lips coated in a thin film of saliva. The crunch and grinding of something hard echoed as his teeth turned it into bits. The rancid smell continued to bombard me as he chewed, and the sound of bone crunching between his teeth made my stomach turn. Fear coiled in my stomach as the bugbear’s massive form cast a shadow over us.

"Ah, yes, a fine pair indeed, brothers," he said, his yellow eyes seemingly appraising us, his gaze lingering on me far longer than I liked. A chill ran through my body, and an uncomfortable sensation crawled across my back, like a centipede wriggling beneath my skin. I recoiled, pushing myself back with my feet, trying to distance myself from the creature, he hideously as I did so, disgust filled me in a way I had never experienced before.

A shadow suddenly cast itself over me. Somehow, Gwingiel was standing in front of me, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as she stared down the monstrous bugbear, who was easily twice her size.

What the hell is she doing? I thought. Is she trying to protect me? My heart pounded in my chest. I should be the one protecting her, not the other way around.

"Oh?" the bugbear exclaimed in amusement as he stared down at the dwarf woman. "It seems this little dwarf still has some fight left in her." He boomed with laughter, sending thick, meaty chunks of food flying from his mouth.

"Aye, it takes a dwarf to kill an overgrown rat fucker like you," she shot back, cracking her neck and hopping on one leg a few times before settling into a fighting stance. Her left arm hung limp at her side, useless.

What the hell does she think she can do against this thing? I thought. She's collared and injured, why would she risk her life like this? I stared at the back of the dwarf woman I had only met earlier today, torn between admiration and fear.

"Come, little dwarf, I've had little of your kind of late," he said, tossing aside the remnants of his meal. My heart pounded in my chest as I stared down at what he had thrown, a small, severed human hand with its fingers missing.

This monster is going to eat her.

I tried to turn my attention back to Gwingiel, to tell her to stop, to somehow pull her back, but it was too late.

Gwingiel charged at the behemoth, her approach slow and deliberate. The bugbear didn’t move to defend himself, staring down at her with the confidence of someone who believed she could do him no harm. As Gwingiel closed in, her fist cocked back as if to punch the bugbear in the only vulnerable spot she could reach.

Scoffing, the bugbear’s leg shot forward, as thick as Gwingiel’s chest was wide. She leaned into her charge, turning her side and bracing to take the hit on her left shoulder. I blinked, barely able to process what I had just witnessed. A loud, meaty impact followed by a snap, then a squeal of pain, is what I expected.

But instead, just as the foot touched her, she twisted sharply, spinning along the outside of the bugbear’s leg. Her feet seemed to glide across the ground as she spun, accelerating, until she was beneath the bugbear, his leg outstretched and off balance.

With a yell and an exhale of breath, Gwingiel’s fist struck the side of the bugbear’s knee with an audible thunk. The sound of his knee cracking echoed in my ears. The bugbear grunted in pain as his knee buckled. As he toppled backward, ready to crush her under his massive weight, Gwingiel sidestepped to his right, letting him crash to the left with a thud.

The bugbear caught himself with an outstretched arm just before he hit the ground. Gwingiel wasn’t done yet. She dashed forward and kicked his arm out from under him. The ground shook beneath me as the bugbear slammed into the dirt.

He fell to his side, and Gwingiel spun around to face him. She stood over the massive beast that had towered over her only moments ago. With a smirk on her bruised face, she delivered a swift kick to his face with her boot. The bugbear growled in pain as she followed with two more rapid kicks. On the third, there was a loud crunch as his nose broke, dark blood springing from it, almost black in the dim light.

The bugbear roared, his arm shooting out to grab her, but Gwingiel leapt back, just out of his reach. The bugbear stared at Gwingiel, as a low, guttural growl rumbled through the ground as his blood splattered across the dirt from his smashed nose.

The air was thick with the stench of sweat and blood, the goblins’ jeering voices echoing in my ears. They began to gather around us, eager to watch the spectacle of a dwarf taking on a bugbear. Many of the goblins hooted in excitement, though those standing too close to the bugbears were quickly silenced with punches if they got too rowdy. Even the villagers, including the crying children in the cages, had turned their gaze to the fight.

Can she actually beat this thing? I wondered, hope stirring within me as I watched her dance around the lumbering giant.

Gwingiel charged in again just as the enraged bugbear rolled and pushed himself to one knee. Snarling, he lunged at her. Gwingiel sidestepped, barely dodging his outstretched hands. But then, she stumbled, just long enough for him to grab her by the neck and lift her off the ground with his left hand. It was so quick I could barely follow him.

Reality hit like a hammer, and my hopes shattered. Even if she somehow managed to defeat this bugbear despite her injuries, there was nothing we could do against the rest of them.

"You’re a nimble little dwarf!" the bugbear yelled with a boisterous laugh, his anger earlier gone as if it were a facade. "There’s little sport if the prey doesn’t fight back!" He laughed again, and this time the surrounding monsters joined in on his sick amusement.

Gwingiel struggled in his grip, her face turning red as the cuts marring her skin reopened. She punched and kicked at his arm, but nothing worked. He held her out far enough that she couldn’t reach his face with her kicks. The bugbear grinned grotesquely, watching her struggle like a child in the hands of an adult.

With his right hand, he reached out and grabbed her mangled left arm roughly. Gwingiel screamed in pain. "My men told me of your strength, dwarf," he said, chuckling. "They were impressed with how you killed their goblins and injured them while avoiding their armor." He gave her arm another cruel twist. "I would have your strength be mine."

Then, with terrifying ease, he tore a long strip of flesh from her mangled arm. Gwingiel cried out in agony as the bugbear shoved the strip into his mouth and began to chew.

I have to do something. I need to help her, I thought. But my body wouldn’t move. A coldness gripped me like nothing I had ever felt before. Nothing like the horned hounds, and certainly nothing like Welshbride village.

Gwingiel redoubled her efforts to break free, but the bugbear simply ignored her. This time, he grabbed her arm firmly in his hand. "Firm yet chewy. You will make a fine meal, dwarf, but a strip will not sate me," he said, before he pulled.

I didn’t hear the snap of bone or the tearing of flesh. All that rang in my ears was the sound of the toughest woman I had ever seen, in any world, making a sound I’ll never forget as she’s being eaten alive. All the while I sat there, watching, and frozen in fear.

Gwingiel passed out shortly after, the physical and mental toll too much for her to bear. The bugbear continued chewing on her, as if thoughtfully considering the taste. "This one will need to be prepared," he muttered, as though planning a meal. "It'll go fine with gathmal."

Then, with a casual turn, he fixed his gaze on me, and every fiber of my being screamed for me to get away. I stared at the monster's bloodied face, still chewing on Gwingiel's arm as he walked toward me. His strides were long, and it only took a few steps for him to close the distance.

"Ah, the dark elf," he said, stopping right in front of me, licking the blood from his lips. "You are a thaumaturgist," he remarked, chuckling as he shook his head. Taking a knee, he leaned in, his face only a foot away from mine. "You are unworthy of being a part of my champion soul, but..." He paused, roughly grabbing my jaw with a bloody, calloused hand that was larger than my face. "The beauty of the elves never fails. I would have you as my bedmate, and if you survive, perhaps even one of my wives. I've yet to add a dark elf to my collection. Maybe you can fight the others for the honor of pleasing me," he added, his deep chuckle reverberating through the air. His breath reeked of blood and rot, and his grip was painfully tight, forcing my head to tilt upward.

I stared up into the monster’s eyes, unable to look away, my body paralyzed with fear. A warmth spread between my legs as I trembled under his gaze. Why is this happening to me? Please, not like this...

“You’re rather jubilant, Roshar, but you’ll claim nothing, you filthy brute,” came a raspy voice as a hooded figure flanked by two Timber Gnolls made its way through a group of gathered goblins amongst the monsters. It was the hooded thaumaturgist from the village. The bugbear, towering at least three feet taller than the figure, turned to face him.

"And the piglet shows himself," the bugbear sneered, his laughter booming. "Had enough of your master's shit for supper?" He laughed again, though only a few scattered voices joined in this time. “Tell me, Piglet, how has your master taken the news of your failure?”

The thaumaturgist slowly pulled back his hood, revealing a face entirely different from the goblins around him. The creature stood only a head taller than a typical goblin, but its features were disturbingly disproportionate. Its bald head was far too large for its body, with small, rounded nubs for ears instead of the large ears that tapered into sharp points typical of goblins. Under the torchlight, its sunken, beady eyes gleamed a deep red, casting bizarre shadows across its wide, sickly green and yellow face. Its nose was barely more than a button, a stark contrast to the goblins' long, sharp noses. Two parallel purple lines ran from the corners of its nose, tracing over its cheeks and disappearing beneath its robes.

Despite the strange appearance, I recognized this creature. It was one of the species from the Gleshmar campaign. These fiends were usually found deep within Gleshmar territory, far behind the lines of the Fiend hordes that ravaged the surrounding regions.

I remembered the high-risk scouting mission, a pair of stealthy players had infiltrated the inner region of Gleshmar, documenting strategic attack points and cataloging new species of fiends before they went silent on the forums. One of those species was the Gremlin. And now, here one stood, in front of me.

The Gremlin stared up at Roshar, completely unfazed by the size difference. "Bold of you to speak of my master. Could it be that you intentionally allowed the human to alert the adventurer’s guild?" he continued, a wicked grin spreading across his face, revealing rows of sharp, pointed teeth.

"Do not blame me for your failings, Piglet," Roshar growled, the sound reverberating in his chest. "Or do you wish to challenge me, and we’ll see who takes the blame?" He confidently said looming over the smaller creature. The Gremlin took a cautious step back, unwilling to face him directly.

Roshar snorted dismissively, then turned his attention back to me, but before he could act, the Gremlin produced a clubbed staff out of thin air. A loud crack echoed through the camp as the staff struck the back of Roshar’s head, causing him to stumble forward and drop Gwingiel roughly to the ground.

Before Roshar could recover, another crack rang out, followed by a grunt of pain. The robust bugbear dropped to his knees, clutching his side. "You filthy rat... I’ll—" His threat was cut short as the Timber Gnolls flanking their leader leaped onto his bulky form. Their sharp teeth sank into his thick neck as they pinned his larger arms, leaving the smaller pair of his limbs to flail uselessly beneath them.

"I care little for your silly tribal squabbles," the Gremlin said in a bored tone, stepping closer to the helpless Roshar. "Kill, betray, violate your pacts among each other, do as you please, Roshar." He raised his staff high above his head, his voice hardening. "But I will not allow you to interfere with my master’s plans and suffer no consequence"

With deliberate force, the Gremlin brought the staff down onto Roshar's already injured right knee, the same one Gwingiel had struck. The sound was sickening, like a thick branch snapping in two. Roshar grunted in pain, his twisted face contorting with pain. Despite the strength of the blow, the Gremlin’s movements were slow and unhurried. As he reeled back to swing again, it gave Roshar a moment to react.

Lore-wise, bugbears were physically very strong, able to lift three times their size. Although stunned by the blow to the head and the two gnolls trouncing him at first, their combined weight wasn’t enough to completely subdue Roshar. Using strength in his left leg, Roshar lunged to the side, narrowly avoiding the staff. Its lower arms freed from underneath itself, it struck out with sharp claws, stabbing into one of the timber gnolls. Wrenching back and forth, it rendered the gnoll's insides to mush. Despite having its innards torn apart, the timber gnoll showed little reaction, which seemed to anger Roshar more as he roared in annoyance.

With two of his lower arms lodged inside the gnoll, Roshar roared and tore the creature in two. Black blood erupted as the gnoll's innards spilled onto the ground, steaming in the cold. Grabbing the lower half of the timber gnoll, Roshar hurled it at the Gremlin, a long rope of intestine trailing behind. The Gremlin far enough, backed off just in time as the torn half of the gnoll mangled corps landed just short of him in a bloody heap.

The Gremlin snarled hatefully as the viscous black blood splattered across his robes. In an instant, the clubbed staff in his hand was replaced by another, this one crowned with a large, sickly yellow gem that gleamed ominously in the moonlit night

"Strike forth. Consume and wither. Corrosion Arrow," the Gremlin growled, his voice practiced and steady as he pointed his staff at Roshar. A thick yellow glob of liquid gathered at the tip before shooting forward, faster than I could track, elongating into a sharp point. Roshar’s eyes widened, and he scrambled to turn his body sideways, using the immobilized gnoll hanging off his arm as a shield.

The arrow struck the gnoll with a wet splat, piercing through its hide as the corrosive liquid splashed everywhere. Yellow droplets rained down, showering Roshar and the nearby goblins. Without thinking, I scrambled toward Gwingiel, ignoring the pain in my chest, just a few feet away, and threw myself over her, covering her with my body as the acid rained around us.

I grunted in pain as droplets struck my arms and legs, quickly eating through my boots and pants. My cloak, thankfully, was thick enough to block acid from getting through, but I could feel the burning sensation spreading where the acid had found skin. I quickly tried to wipe it off myself and Gwingiel before it continued to eat through us.

Chaos erupted around us as the monsters scrambled to escape the splash zone. Many weren’t fast enough, howls of pain filled the air as the corrosive liquid ate through their flesh. I think Gwingiel and I were lucky enough to escape the worst of it. Glancing around, I saw goblins, bugbears, and gnolls just a few feet away, their bodies far worse off. Some were writhing in agony, while others lay still, thankfully unmoving.

I began dragging Gwingiel away as a toxic cloud spread over the ground, blanketing the area where the arrow had struck. Onlookers near the impact zone retreated in panic, but the unfortunate ones left behind began hacking up globs of blood or clutched their faces as their eyes melted into bloody pools, oozing from their skulls.

Roshar had suffered the worst. He lay prone, wheezing as he inhaled more of the toxic fumes than anyone else. Though he had managed to shield himself from the full force of the skill, the secondary effects were unavoidable. The fur and chitin-like skin on his right side had been burned and melted away, exposing raw flesh. His left side fared better, but patches of his hair were scorched, and his body glistened with bloody, charred spots.

How the hell is he still alive? I thought, collapsing beside Gwingiel after dragging her far enough from the now dissipating cloud.

Somehow, Roshar struggled to his knees, his face twisted into a grimace of pain and hate as he glared at the Gremlin standing just a few paces away, yet still too far for him to reach in his condition. As if waiting for this moment, two figures leapt from the crowd of onlookers, charging toward the weakened bugbear. One was a smaller, less intimidating bugbear, and the other an emaciated Timber Gnoll.

Roshar saw them coming but couldn’t react in time. Just like at the start of the fight, they grabbed him and pinned him to the ground.

"Traitors!" Roshar roared, his voice raw and edging toward a shrill. "I’ll tell my chief about this, and he’ll tear your balls out and feast upon your families!" He struggled against their grip, but his strength quickly waned, his burns and ragged breathing weakening him. His threats fell on deaf ears.

"You pathetic savage," the Gremlin said with a toothy grin, far too wide for its face. Its crooked, broken teeth only added to its horrific appearance, more terrifying than even the bugbears.

"M-mercy," Roshar pleaded, fear creeping into his eyes. His muscles bulged as he once again tried to rouse himself, straining to break free from their grip. It was useless. The Timber Gnoll holding him down was larger and stronger than its faster, more agile cousins, the Levian Gnolls. Although not as powerful as a bugbear, Timber Gnolls were far from weak. And the other bugbear, pinning Roshar’s arm, barely strained against his thrashing.

"Worry not, Roshar," the Gremlin said with a creeping smile. "I’ll remind you of what happens when brutes bare their fangs at their betters." He swapped his yellow-jeweled staff for the clubbed one and brought it down onto Roshar’s head with surprising force.

The first blow made a hard, resounding knock, like wood striking oak. But after the first few strikes, the sound changed, becoming a sickening, wet squelch, like a foot sinking into mud, as Roshar’s skull began to cave under the repeated hammering.

"Robust, you bugbears are," the Gremlin muttered, breathing heavily from the exertion as he tossed aside the now-broken staff. "Lift him. Lift him up, you slow dullards!" he barked, gesturing to the blank-faced gnolls.

Somehow, Roshar was still alive, groaning incoherently as his head lolled limply, pieces of his skull and fur mixed with exposed brain matter. His face was twisted in a grotesque grimace, his strength reduced to feeble protests.

The Gremlin produced a glass bottle filled with a black-brownish sludge and unstopped it. At the sight of it, Roshar’s dull eyes flickered with recognition. His groans grew more desperate, though his body was too broken to resist.

Ignoring the bugbear’s weak protests, the Gremlin emptied the bottle’s contents onto Roshar’s exposed brain. The thick sludge oozed onto his brain, mixing with the blood and gore. Despite its viscosity, it seeped in quickly, like water into a sponge, disappearing into the raw tissue with an unsettling ease.

Moments passed before Roshar’s body began to twitch, first an arm, then a leg, until his entire body jerked erratically. His movements became too wild, and he collapsed to the ground. His mouth hung open in a silent scream, but the only sounds came from within his body. They were sickening noises as if his organs independently moved around. After a while, it transitioned into a series of pops, each one louder than the last. His back arched unnaturally until a sharp snap rang out, and his body folded in half like a broken puppet. Then, as if his strings were cut, he collapsed into a heap.

"Rise," the Gremlin commanded, gesturing with its yellowish-green hand.

At first, only Roshar’s left arm twitched, then the right, as he slowly pushed himself onto his belly. His legs lagged behind, moving as if they had a mind of their own, resisting his efforts to stand. He stumbled several times, his limbs moving sporadically, as though disconnected from his will. Finally, after a struggle, he rose to his full height, towering over the Gremlin.

Roshar’s exposed brain began to pulsate, and the sickly squelching sound filled the air again. The Gremlin watched him closely, studying the bugbear’s grotesque state with cold detachment.

"Another failure," the Gremlin spat a thick wad of flem on the bugbear, his cold voice cutting through the air like a blade.

“Did he turn it into a zombie?” I mumbled softly, catching myself as I leaned forward, intrigued despite the danger. Roshar’s face looked mostly the same, but his eyes were different, completely black, void of the yellow sclera and rectangular pupils he’d had before. I shot a glance at the two gnolls, noticing their eyes matched. Did he do to them what he did to the bugbear?

I glanced at Gwingiel, still unconscious beside me. Her skin was pale, her breathing shallow and erratic, a sheen of sweat covering her face. What’s happening to her? I thought, panic rising as I placed the back of my hand on her forehead. Her skin was like ice beneath my fingers, the quiet murmur of the crowd feeling distant as fear gnawed at me. It was then I noticed her arm was still bleeding, which had been for some time.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

I quickly tore a long strip from my shirt, wrapping it tightly around her arm twice before cinching it and tying a knot. I wasn’t a doctor, but this was the only way I knew to stop the bleeding. Cauterizing the wound would be best, but with this damn collar on, my skills were useless.

I used my shirt to wipe the sweat from her face, then turned my attention back to the Gremlin. He was finishing his inspection of Roshar’s belongings, and once done, he dismissed the bugbear. His cold, calculating gaze shifted toward Gwingiel and me, as if weighing our worth.

“Bring that one along,” the Gremlin commanded, pointing his yellow finger directly at me. My blood ran cold. What for? Panic gripped me as horrible thoughts raced through my mind. Was this ugly bastard planning to do to me what he did to Roshar? My heart raced, nausea bubbling up inside me. I couldn’t let that happen. Not to me, not like that man eating monster. I thought as I shot a glance at Roshar as he disappeared into the crowd, his expression blank, like a puppet than the fierce creature he had once been moments before.

“Master Piglet,” a scratchy-voiced goblin called walking up to the Gremlin. “What do with dwarf?” it asked, its voice grating.

“Throw the dwarf in the cages with the rest,” the Gremlin snapped, his tone cold and commanding. “Begin preparations for the ritual. It must be done tonight. And if anything is amiss..." His voice lowered with menace. "You and your kin will replace what we’ve lost today.”

The Gremlin’s words sent a chill through the gathered onlookers. At his threat, the crowd scattered, bolting away in fear.

Two goblins walked over to Gwingiel and me. I stood, trying not to show my fear, less intimidated by the pair who barely came up to my chin. But I wasn’t going to let them take her, not while she was this injured. She would definitely die.

“Enough with the posturing, girl. I have business to attend to. You can do nothing in this situation, so come along with me willingly." The Gremlin’s voice was cold, dismissive even. "Or would you rather I let these savages have their fun with you for a while?” He gestured lazily toward the scattered group of goblins and gnolls hovering nearby, their eyes gleaming in the night. A shiver ran down my back.

I watched helplessly as the pair of goblins dragged Gwingiel’s limp body away, quickly disappearing into the crowd. I stared after her, numb. What’s going to happen to her? And then it hit me. What’s going to happen to me?

As soon as the thought crossed my mind, the Gremlin walked toward me, his beady red eyes locking onto mine. “You have violated the pact, dark elf," he spat, his voice seething with heat. "You and your elders will answer for this, and pray that my master’s benevolence has not yet waned. Brute, grab her and follow.”

He turned and walked away, leaving me paralyzed with worry. I flinched as the bugbear lumbered over, its massive hand reaching out. Without effort, it grabbed me and hoisted me onto its shoulder. I struggled, but it was as useless as a toddler fighting against an adult.

We entered a room at the top of the tower after ascending the old staircase that creaked beneath the bugbears weight, and the air was thick with dust and age. “Put the elf there and stand guard, brute,” the Gremlin commanded, pointing to a corner of the cluttered space. The bugbear obeyed without hesitation, dropping me to the floor with a heavy thud.

I winced, the impact jarring, but as I glanced up at the bugbear, I hesitated. I would have tried to kick it, but its face wasn’t twisted with the sick satisfaction I’d seen in Roshar. Instead, it was blank and thoughtless. Whoever this bugbear used to be, they weren’t there anymore. What exactly was he doing to these monsters?

Contrary to my expectations, the Gremlin’s room wasn’t as dark or decrepit as I had imagined. It was small, with just enough space for three people to move around at once. Strangely, the Gremlin seemed more like a scholar than a vicious fiend, with several small shelves stacked full of books and two tables cluttered with strange potions and scrolls. Despite the mess, there was an odd sense of organization to it all.

But what truly caught my attention was the large, pale blue crystal that dominated the far end of the room, where the Gremlin was focused. The crystal, embedded in a stone frame, floated in mid-air above the floor. It emitted a faint hum, and its soft glow bathed the room in an eerie, pale light. Unlike the rest of the room, the area around the crystal was clear, as if the Gremlin kept that space deliberately free from the surrounding clutter.

“Tell me, girl, did your elders plan this intervention?” the Gremlin asked, his hands busy with bottles of strangely colored liquids, pouring one into another. Thankfully, none of them were black.

“It’s a misunderstanding,” I stammered, my eyes fixed on the potion he swirled in his hand, watching the color change. There was a faint hiss of liquid meeting liquid and an odd acrid smell filled the room. He set it down casually and moved on, perusing another selection before letting out an exaggerated "Ah" as he found what he was looking for.

“We weren’t given many details,” I blurted out, my heart beating faster, as panic crept into my voice while he continued mixing potions silently. “All I know is we were told goblins were attacking a village, and we’d be rewarded if we confirmed and stopped them!” I tried to steady my voice as I spoke, but the more he mixed, the more my heart pounded. What the hell was he planning to do with those fucking positions?

“Perhaps...” the Gremlin mused. His fingers drummed lightly on the table, the sound sharp and unsettling in the quiet room. He turned toward me with a contemplative expression that looked even more hideous on his wrinkled face. “You see, I watched Roshar intentionally free and let the villager go. I wanted to kill him on the spot, chalk it up to a simple scheme made by a simple creature.” He laughed, his overly wide mouth revealing his jagged, hideous teeth.

“But,” he continued, his tone shifting, “his actions were far from ordinary, girl.” The Gremlin’s beady red eyes bore into mine, freezing me in place. “Roshar, or bugbears in general, are dull, greedy creatures. They would never do something that would harm the clan unless it benefited them greatly.”

He placed a third bottle on the table beside the others, his gaze never leaving me.

“I don’t see what this has to do with me or my companion,” I said hesitantly, my eyes darting toward the bottles on the table.

The Gremlin’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “You say that, yet just a week after my master strikes a pact with your kin, here I find a dark elf intervening in my master’s plans?” His voice dripped with amused suspicion as he walked toward me, unstopping one of the bottles he grabbed from his selection in his hand. The faint pop of the bottle being unstopped sent a shiver down my spine.

“Y-you’ve got it all wrong! I don’t know anything about this pact, I just took a quest from the guild!” I yelled, trying to scoot away from him. But before I could get far, the bugbear grabbed me with all four of its arms, lifting me toward the Gremlin.

The Gremlin seized my jaw in his yellow-green hand, prying my mouth open. His grip was cold and rough, and the sound of my own ragged breathing filled my ears. Pain shot through my jaw as I struggled to keep it shut. I tried to kick him off, but the bugbear quickly grabbed my leg with one of its lower arms, holding me in place. How the hell is this even happening? What did I do to deserve this bullshit? I’m tired of these damn bastards manhandling me! My heart raced, and helpless rage bubbled inside me.

I tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come, my mouth was forced wide open. The Gremlin was far stronger than he looked. His hideously wide smile stretched across his face, and as I stared into his beady red eyes, I could see he was enjoying this. It didn’t matter whether I was telling the truth or not, he didn’t care either way. I want to kill this ugly yellow son of a bitch and burn these fucking monsters and this whole goddamn fort to the ground!

Just as the Gremlin was about to tip the potion into my mouth, a low hum filled the air and the room was suddenly bathed in with a pulse of green light, its brightness almost blinding. The glow dimmed briefly before brightening again, slowly going faster as it repeated.

The Gremlin froze, then turned abruptly toward the crystal. The luminescent glow flickered with intensity before the room was filled with an eerie brilliance. Without hesitation, the Gremlin rushed to the crystal, dropping to its knees just as a blurred figure appeared on the crystal. I blinked, my vision struggling to adjust to the light. Fear twisted in my gut as the Gremlin’s sudden submission made it clear that whoever this was, they were far more dangerous.

“I greet Master,” the Gremlin said, bowing so low its head touched the wooden floor. Gone was the earlier air of superiority and sadistic glee, replaced by a stark reverence.

“What is taking so long, Piglet?” a deep, imperious voice rumbled, each word causing the crystal to flicker faintly. Held back by the motionless bugbear, I couldn’t see who, or what, was speaking through the crystal.

“Apologies, Master. We have suffered a minor complication,” the Gremlin replied, his words carefully chosen. He hesitated for a moment before continuing, “Adventurers from the Kingdom interrupted our ritual before we could complete it,” he said, his head remaining low.

“How did the guild find out so soon?” the voice demanded, biting off each word with barely contained frustration.

"One of the dull-headed bugbears allowed a villager to escape, who then informed the guild of our presence. But of course, I made sure none of the villagers knew of the alliance between the monster tribes. However..." The Gremlin hesitated, its voice trailing off.

"Do not try my patience. Out with it," the voice rumbled, the flickering crystal pulsing with each word.

"Apologies, Master," the Gremlin stammered. "We were forced to abandon the village because two of the adventurers escaped, but... we captured two in return."

The crystal remained silent for a long, agonizing moment, the air in the room thick with tension.

"But Master need not worry!" the Gremlin hurriedly continued, panic creeping into its voice. "I destroyed all traces of our true purpose in the village, reduced it to ash, and we have taken the villagers. With the ingredients stocked here, we have all that we need. This one will complete the ritual tonight."

“See that it is, Piglet. The more time you waste here the easier it will be for the Kingdom to respond to the others. I need not remind you of what will happen if you fail me again.” the voice intoned with a deep rumble before it paused for a long moment. “I sense another in that room, who is it?” the voice grew deadly serious.

“Yes, of course, master. This one had intended to inform you once this one had more evidence, but I have captured a dark elf who was with the party of adventures. Considering dark elves do not frequent this far into the human territories, I thought this dark elf may have been used to interfere with master’s plans.” The gremlin said in a rush, his head still bowed. Dread washed over me. I had stayed silent, hoping to go unnoticed, and it seemed like the Gremlin didn’t want to reveal my presence either. How did he know I was here?!

“Dark elf?” the man echoed. “I doubt they would betray me so soon after our pact… it must be the lesser clans. I’ve heard rumors of the Scourge wandering in this region for some time now. Could she be involved?” The voice seemed to muse to itself.

“Ah, no, Master. This one doubts he alone is enough to capture the Scourge,” the Gremlin replied quickly, his words shaky.

“Do not insult me, Piglet. Of course your worthless hide couldn’t capture her,” the voice snapped.

“Yes, Master, this one spoke in haste. But this one has captured a pure-blood dark elf, a thaumaturgist,” Piglet replied hesitantly.

“Show me,” the voice demanded, now sounding more curious than angry.

With a flick of his wrist, the Gremlin turned the crystal frame toward me. The owner of that imperious voice was a well-groomed, rugged-looking man. He appeared to be well into middle age, with deep lines etched into his face. Yet, his raven hair remained vibrant and full, cascading over his shoulders.

The most striking feature about him wasn’t his thick beard or the sharp angle of his jawline, or the black-green tipped horns protruding from his forehead, it was his eyes. A deep green that seemed to pierce through the crystal, locking onto me with an intensity that sent a shudder down my spine.

I wasn’t the only one who felt it. The bugbear’s grip on my arms and legs slackened as it took an involuntary step back. I wouldn’t blame him. The room felt colder, as if the chill of winter was slowly creeping in.

Once again, I was reminded of how unfamiliar and different this world was from the game.

“Girl, I see that you are indeed pure blood,” the man said, his eyes narrowing as he assessed me, his thoughtful expression bordering on a scowl. “Which clan do you hail from? Do not bother lying, I haven’t the time for games,” he added, His voice, sharp and impatient, it felt like a blade pressed to my throat. His eyes hadn’t left mine, watching for the slightest hesitation, or was it something else?

Clan? I didn’t even know dark elves had clans. What the hell was I supposed to say? I could claim to be from some obscure clan, but judging by his conversation with the Gremlin earlier, I doubted that would work. He seemed too well-informed about the political intricacies between the clans he’s allied with and these "lesser" clans.

I swallowed hard, realizing my best chance was to stick with the truth, at least partly. My mind raced. Every answer felt like a gamble, and I had no idea what stakes I was playing for. Fuck it, I’ll just go with the easy answer.

“I’m not part of any clan,” I replied hastily. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Not part of a clan?” he echoed with a chuckle, the perpetual frown on his face deepening as he leaned closer. “Then tell me, girl, where do you hail from?” His eyes seemed to glow, the hue brightening with intensity.

Shit... this one's even harder to answer.

“Ah, I-I’m from Veinbor,” I stammered, which technically wasn’t a lie.

“Where do you hail from?” he repeated, his tone far less curious this time, carrying an edge of impatience.

The temperature in the room dropped noticeably as his sea-green eyes glowed even brighter. I blinked, feeling sweat I hadn’t realized was there sting my eyes despite the cold. When I opened them again, I flinched hard enough to collapse to my knees, my legs suddenly too weak to hold my weight.

Standing right in front of me was the man from the crystal. He was dressed in a luxurious robe, dyed deep green and rimmed with gold. His presence was suffocating, radiating authority that seemed to fill every corner of the room. Everything around him, floor, ceiling, even the air itself felt like it belonged to him. Even I felt like his property.

“I will ask you once more, child. Where do you hail from?” This time, his voice was less intimidating, more like a soft whisper that tickled my ears. It felt good. Almost euphoric, the sound of his voice. A part of me didn’t want to answer, just so I could hear him speak again in that lovely, soothing tone.

But I knew better. If I didn’t respond, his voice would turn harsh, and that kindness would vanish. The thought of bearing his rebuke sent a cold shiver through me. I wouldn’t be able to handle it.

“I-I am from a place called Earth,” I answered, feeling a strange reluctance I couldn’t explain. Why? I should want to tell him everything, it felt like his right to know.

“And where is this, Earth? Is it across the Trackless Sea?” His voice sent a shiver through my body, somehow starting from my ears and rippling downward.

Thump.

“No, no,” I laughed at the question. “Far, far away from here, its another world!” I added, relieved to finally share my secret with someone I could trust. Especially someone so kind, so easy to talk to.

Thump.

“A harbinger, then... Fascinating,” he said, finally offering me a dazzling smile. His voice was like music, and I closed my eyes, letting the excitement of it wash over me. Although it's odd because he's a man, but why did it feel so right to please him?

If I had known telling him what he wanted to hear would feel this good, I would’ve done it sooner. I felt a strange warmth spread through me. I’m so stupid. I should do anything this man asks.

Thump. Thump.

“Tell me, what is your name? I cannot refer to such an esteemed guest, one who has traveled so far, as simply 'girl,'” he said, his tone curious and inviting. “Of course, it’s rude to ask for another’s name without giving one’s own, isn’t it? I am called Raz’Aphell, child.”

My heart raced, filled with joy at finally learning his name. Raz’Aphell. It sounded so elegant, so beautiful.

And he wanted to know my name. I should be honored, right? The thought wrapped around me like a warm embrace. But which name should I give him, my old one, or the new one? Perhaps both will earn me his praise! The idea of his praise sent a thrill through me, my heart pounding in anticipation. No wonder it’s beating so hard.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

“In this world, I go by Ciel. In my other world, my name is… my name is...” I hesitated, shaking my head as the pleasurable tickling sensation at the front of my mind began to fade rapidly as my body grew hot, hot enough the wetness between my legs seemingly began to evaporate. As my thoughts cleared and euphoric feel faded, it was quickly being replaced by another… annoyance? Anger? Why did I want to tell him my real name? I thought, panic creeping in. Why did I even mention being from another world?

What the hell did he do to me?!

I shook my head again, trying to clear the fog of confusion, before looking up at him, then quickly averting my gaze. His eyes! I shouldn’t have looked him in the face. What the hell was going on? Is he some kind of walking truth serum?

“Look at me, girl!” he yelled, and suddenly I felt a sharp tug on my hair, yanking my head back.

I frowned, my gaze forced upward as I met his face once more, noticing the translucency of his upper body. A projection? But how was he touching me?

My eyes traveled down his figure, searching for an answer, until I spotted it, the Gremlin’s hand, extending through the projection’s robes, gripping my hair tightly. My gaze shifted, and our eyes met. Not his eyes, but the Gremlin’s, now glowing a bright green instead of their usual red.

His face twisted into a hideous scowl as we stared at each other, a surge of disgust and fear knotting in my stomach.

“You! Spawn of Emphyria!” he roared, the face of his projection twisting into a monstrous visage. It lunged toward me, his hand clawing at my face. Caught off guard, I flinched, but too late, the hand passed through my head, harmlessly.

The Gremlin’s claws, however, swiped just in front of my face as he mimicked the projection’s movement. Suddenly, the man vanished, leaving the Gremlin stumbling in front of me, dazed by whatever Raz’Aphell had done to him.

“Kill her!” Raz’Aphell’s voice thundered from the crystal. “Even now, that vile wench dares to interfere in my affairs!” The sound of Raz’Aphell’s voice echoed in the room, shaking the air, while the Gremlin’s claws came too close for comfort, making my skin crawl.

I glanced at the furious image of Raz’Aphell, his unrestrained rage making my heart pound in my chest. The Gremlin’s dazed look was fading, his beady red eyes narrowing with deadly intent as his focus returned.

It’s now or never, I thought pushing with everything I had at the warm sensation I felt while casting. It was like a balloon inside me, with various channels extending throughout my body, slowly expanding.

But there was nowhere for the pressure to go. The balloon swelled, from the size of a golf ball to a volleyball in seconds. Pain tore through my abdomen, sharp and intense, like being impaled by the horned hound all over again. I clenched my teeth, refusing to stop. No matter how much it hurt, these fucking pricks were dead! I forced down a whimper rising in my throat as I struggled to keep going, opening an eye I hadn’t realized I’d shut.

The Gremlin was now holding his staff, the sickly yellow gem at the top glowing ominously. He was shouting, but I couldn’t hear him. He had worry etched on his face. His attention shifted behind me, toward the bugbear perhaps, but I knew if I stopped whatever I was doing, that ugly bastard would definitely kill me or force some horrid potion down my throat.

That wasn’t happening!

As the balloon swelled to the size of a beach ball, something finally happened. It was a relief, like a summer piss in an air conditioner bathroom after holding it in too long. Then, a loud snap rang out from around my neck, followed by an overwhelming gush of energy surging through my body, like water filled with shards of glass blasting out of a narrow pipe.

Instinct. That was the only word to describe this feeling, to give voice to the world, and direction to what came to mind as the words slipped from my lips, as if I’d practiced them thousands of times for this very moment.

“Skal Flower!”

A burst of cold, real, bone-chilling cold, exploded from my body, enveloping the stunned Piglet and the entire room in a thick white mist. The sudden silence was shattered by the sound of countless panes of glass breaking all at once, a deafening screech like plastic twisted too tightly, on the verge of snapping soon followed. But instead of breaking, it simply faded into silence.

The room was quiet when I awoke, it was like a white void, as a white fog thick enough to block even my hand in front of my face filled the room. That was the least of my problems as my head felt like it was being crushed from the inside, strangled by a relentless pressure. All I could do was lie there, moaning softly, but even that was the least of my pain. It felt like needles were stabbing into every part of my body. Tears wet my face as I tried to think through the haze of agony.

“Helia’s Embr—” I began, but my mouth stopped working as a searing fire consumed me from the inside. The pain was so unbearable, it seemed to choke the very air out of the room, making the silence suffocating. It was as though I was lying on a bed of razors coated in poison.

For what felt like an eternity, that was all I knew, until I found myself staring at the ceiling, my body still trembling.

“What the... hell was that?” I rasped, my throat raw and sore, as if I’d been screaming for hours. Minutes seemed to pass as I lay there, breathing deeply, the pain slowly ebbing until it was nothing more than a sharp ache.

My brow furrowed in confusion as I slowly sat up, feeling surprisingly better. Had the skill’s effect still worked, despite not finishing the invocation? The injuries I’d sustained earlier were mostly healed, even though it had only been a few hours. Relief washed over me, as I lay back down again, smiling. I can use my skills again.

A cloud of white air formed in front of me as I breathed heavily against a crystalline cage of ice. The steady pat pat pat sound began shortly after the fog started rapidly dissipating, somehow causing the ice to melt. Outside the cage was a twisted jungle of frozen vines, snaking and piercing everything in their path, as if trying to take root and grow into something monstrous.

It was difficult to see through the tangled mess, but the massive body of the bugbear was unmistakable, hunched over and impaled dozens of times by the ice. I would have been wary if it had not been speared through the head.

As for the Gremlin... I couldn’t spot him. He’d been directly in front of me when the skill activated, there was no way he could have survived.

By now, the ice vines were breaking apart as they melted. It seemed like they were melting faster than they should have, but that’s a thought for another time. The cage around me was also breaking apart, and it didn’t take much effort to make a hole large enough to step through.

The green light from the crystal hadn’t appeared since I woke. A weight lifted from my chest at the thought that it might be broken, but unease still lingered. The idea of that man invading my mind again was sickening. What he did… it was violating, yet it felt amazing...

I shook my head after staring at nothing for too long, trying to force myself out of the fog in my mind. Come on man, you need to focus. I thought to myself.

I snapped off a long vines of ice that had stabbed through the wall just outside the ice cage around me. Luckily, it came off with a sharp point from the wall. I held it out in front of me as I carefully approached the bugbear from behind. With my arcana off the table, I’d have to improvise. Wrapping my cloak around the makeshift spear to keep my hands from slipping, I steeled myself. Even if its head had been pierced, I wasn’t about to take any chances, not after seeing how resilient these creatures could be.

I poked the bugbear softly at first, then harder, until the tip of the ice spear snapped off. Not the best weapon, I thought grimly. After waiting a few breaths and seeing no movement, I walked around to the front of the bugbear, quickly noticing two things.

First, the bugbear stood completely motionless, its face frozen in a blank expression, its black eyes now a dull gray, staring at nothing. At least it looks dead.

Second, despite its size and strength, it had hunched over, its massive arms protectively cradling the dead Gremlin. Somehow, Piglet had avoided the full brunt of the skill’s effect. He must have commanded the bugbear to shield him just before the skill activated.

But even that hadn’t been enough. Five spears of ice had pierced through the bugbear’s thick hide, skewering Piglet in the stomach, shoulder, chest, arm, and leg, freezing those areas from within. The ugly bastard deserved to get roasted alive, but this will do fine too.

In his right hand, he still held that nasty staff. Up close, it was far more intricate than it had appeared from afar. The wood was engraved with strange, winding patterns that flowed along its length, only to stop abruptly at intervals where Germanic-like symbols were etched into the surface. The design twisted its way up the staff, leading to the sickly yellow gem at its top, cradled in the sharp claws of a black metal that sprouted from the head like some twisted crown.

On the same hand, he wore multiple rings and a bracelet, but one stood out from the others that merely held jewels. This one was a simple band of black metal, engraved with symbols similar to those on the staff. It didn’t look like anything special at first glance, but if I had to guess, those must be runes, not the simple resizing enchantments on my clothes.

Carefully, I pried the Gremlin’s stiff fingers from the staff and set it aside. There were three rings on his hand as well. One by one, I slid each ring off his fingers, pocketing them to look at later. Lastly, was the thing I was most curious about. It was because it was clearly rune treated. It was a black metal bracelet that weaved around itself in an S pattern with runes that glowed faintly in a light gray, far too subtle to notice from a distance. But up close, as I held it to my eye, the faint glow was unmistakable against the dark metal.

Intrigued, I slipped the bracelet onto my right wrist. Though my hands were small in this body, the Gremlin’s hands were slightly larger than mine. The moment the bracelet was on, it shrank to fit perfectly. Just like my clothes.

I waited a moment, expecting something to happen. I was going to take it off, when suddenly, a sharp stab of pain shot through my wrist, up my arm, and down toward my abdomen. It was like ice searing through my veins. Instinctively, I almost yanked the bracelet off and threw it away, but I stopped, realizing what it had done. A grin crept across my face. My situation just got a whole lot better. Finally, something in this world was going my way.

“Thank you, you yellow bastard,” I muttered, staring in amazement. This ring, this is how he was making things appear and disappear earlier. It was a freaking inventory! How that’s even possible completely eludes me, and quite frankly, I couldn’t give a damn. This changes everything.

Despite all the pain and suffering I’ve endured since arriving in this messed-up world, the sweet blessing that is loot always makes it worth it.

As soon as I put the ring on, I didn’t just feel it, I sensed something inside. It was a lot like using skills, but instead of pulling pre-programmed knowledge from somewhere within myself, this was like plugging a USB drive in and out of my head. I experimented with the bracelet, taking it off and putting it back on several times, then trying to make things appear and disappear. It was surprisingly simple, all I had to do was think about what I wanted to appear, and it did. The same when I wanted it to disappear.

Two things stood out. First, while the bracelet was on, I had a clear understanding of what was inside. Not exactly an image, but a sense of what each object was. Second, when I took the bracelet off, I lost that connection and information, especially about things I hadn’t paid close attention to while it was on. However, whatever I had focused on stayed in my mind.

After messing around with it for a bit, I placed the bracelet back on my wrist and picked up the staff again. I couldn’t tell exactly what it did, and I wasn’t going to try and figure it out here. Besides, holding it felt... wrong. It was subtle, but a part of me knew I shouldn’t be holding it. So, I stored it away in the inventory.

Turning back to the Gremlin, I didn’t find anything else of value on him. That made sense, considering the inventory bracelet and those rings.

Finally, I turned my attention back to the room. There wasn’t much of use taking any of the potions that hadn’t been destroyed by the ice vines. After witnessing what the Gremlin did to Roshar and what he tried to feed me, there was no way I was trusting any of them, especially the red ones.

Instead, I gathered the various books and papers he had scattered across the room, not bothering to look at the unfamiliar scribbling on the pages, then lastly I made my way to the crystal mirror. It looked expensive, and I could probably sell it. The crystal felt cool to the touch, its cracked surface still gleaming faintly under the moonlight that streamed in through the broken windows. The stone encasing it had some chips, but it wasn’t severely damaged. It’ll definitely sell, I thought, slipping it into my inventory.

By now, all the ice in the room had melted, leaving the floor slick with water. I made my way over the creaking floorboards toward the nearest broken window facing the inner courtyard of the fortress to take stock of the situation. The area around the tower was largely untouched, with camps of monsters keeping to themselves near the edges of the fortress walls, as if trying to distance themselves from the tower.

There were patrols in the courtyard, but they were few and far between. Most of their focus was on the walls, especially the front gate, or rather, where the gate should have been. As far as I could tell, it was the only entrance in or out of the fortress. Forcing my way through wouldn’t end well for me, not unless I had help.

I peeked outside the tower's front door, searching for any nearby monsters. Besides the guards on the walls, most of the creatures had gathered around campfires scattered along the perimeter. The idea of making a run for it crossed my mind, but the thought of being lost in the forest, with monsters chasing after me, felt far worse than my current situation.

And then there was Gwingiel. I can’t leave her behind, not after everything she’d done to protect me. If I ran, who knows what these monsters would do to the townsfolk, especially now that the Gremlin was dead. He might have been crucial for the ritual he mentioned earlier, but he also kept them in check.

I peered out the door at the bottom of the tower, clutching an ornate straight dagger I’d found in the inventory. There was a large selection of items in the bracelet, but It took time to go through each one. There was a collection of weapons in it but they all seemed decorative. There was a sword of similar make to the dagger inside as well, but it was too heavy for me to wield. Just like that wispfire sword in Thobin’s shop, I thought bitterly. I swear, at this rate, I’ll keep finding cool swords I won’t be able to use.

Shoving the stray thought aside, I refocused on the task at hand. My biggest fear was running into guards on the other side of the door, but my anxiety proved unfounded. Peeking out, I found the area clear of any monsters near the tower.

Slipping through the door, I made a run for the back of the tower, doing my best to stay out of the torchlight. The dagger felt cold in my hand as I sprinted over the damp ground, each step careful, hoping the shadows between the torch like along the tower front wall would keep me hidden.

I couldn’t risk being seen while I searched for Gwingiel. My only clue was that she’d been dragged away north of the entrance. From atop the tower, that area had looked dense with overgrown foliage and was heavily guarded, making this search far more dangerous than I liked.

Rounding the corner out of the torchlight, I slipped into the tower’s shadow cast by the moon. Almost immediately, I ran into a pair of goblins pissing on the side of the tower, their ugly grins plastered across their faces.

My heart pounded in my chest, as I froze, stunned, my eyes landing on a familiar satchel hanging from the left goblin nearest to me, but I couldn’t let myself think about it now. There was no time for hesitation.

It only took a moment for him to notice me standing there. His expression shifted from bewilderment to realization, but despite the unexpected encounter, I rushed forward. My stride was slower than I’d like, giving the startled goblin just enough time to backpedal into his companion, who thankfully remained unaware.

They stumbled and fell to the ground, the unaware goblin shouting angrily as he struggled to push the other off him. The goblin on top frantically tried to scramble to his feet, but they only tangled themselves further. It gave me the perfect opening.

I drove the ornate straight dagger into the startled goblin’s throat, hot blood gushing out as his cry turned into a wet gurgle. I fell on top of them, thankfully missing the puddle of piss, and stabbed the goblin again, silencing his final attempt to claw at my face. His hand went limp before he could reach me. The coppery scent of blood mixed with the stench of piss as I twisted the dagger again, making sure he was dead.

The other goblin, completely caught off guard, yelped as he tried to wriggle free, but his arms were trapped beneath his dead companion. He opened his mouth to yell, but I quickly jammed the dagger into it, stabbing up into the roof of his mouth. He wailed in pain, but I cut it short with a sharp chop to his throat, sending him into a coughing fit. My hands shook slightly with adrenaline, but I forced myself to stay calm. I needed answers, not another body.

I grabbed his throat, squeezing as hard as I could, cutting off his air. He struggled, eyes wide with fear, unable to breathe until I loosened my grip, letting him gasp for air. The dagger was still lodged in his mouth.

“I know you can understand me, goblin,” I growled in a low, dangerous tone. “If you don’t want to die, tell me where the villagers are being kept.”

Ignoring me, the goblin made to scream again, but I quickly tightened my grip on his throat and shoved the dagger deeper into the roof of his blackened gums. He tried to scream, but only a wet gurgle escaped as blood filled the back of his throat.

"Do that again, you little bastard, and I'll shove this dagger slowly into your brain," I growled, staring him in the eyes. His eyes went wide with fear, and I could tell he understood, or at least grasped my intent. Good. At least I wasn’t torturing some creature for no reason. Well, one that didn’t deserve it.

"Now," I said, loosening my grip just enough to let him speak, "where are they?"

The goblin’s breathing was ragged, but he managed to croak out in a gruff, high-pitched tone, “Big hut, there...” He used his eyes and a slight nod of his head to indicate the direction. “Big smelly thing...” He tried to gesture as best he could.

I eyed the direction he indicated, unsure of what he meant by the "smelly thing," besides his horrendous breath. Never mind that for now. "Number of guards?" I asked. The goblin’s brows furrowed in confusion, so I tried again. "Goblins and bugbears, many there?" I said, simplifying the question.

He nodded once, wincing as the dagger still pressed against the roof of his mouth. I pulled it out, and he looked relieved, working his jaw slightly. But before he could open his mouth to scream again, I drove the dagger into his temple, straight through his brain. It slid in with a sickening crunch, that was all too easy. However, I couldn’t think about that right now. I needed to keep moving. I haven’t the faintest idea why the patrols hadn’t checked on the tower making all that noise, but the faster I got to Gwingiel and the villagers, the faster we could come up with a better plan to escape.

"Shit," I whispered to myself, wiping the blood from the dagger onto the goblin’s dirty clothes. "This isn’t going to be easy if there are too many guards."

I reached down to grab my satchel but stopped, glancing at the inventory bracelet on my wrist. "Looks like I don’t really need it anymore," I muttered, leaving the satchel where it was.

I whipped bile from my lips as I stared at the adjacent building, trying my best not to breathe through my nose as anger simmered in my chest. I had to stay focused, but the sight rekindled my desire to see this whole place burned to the ground. I crouched next to a pit full of corpses, body parts, and other rotting things I couldn’t even begin to identify. After leaving the goblin corpses in a nearby bush by the tower, it wasn’t hard to find the building the goblin had indicated, all I had to do was follow the stench. The closer I got the stronger the smell became suffocatingly thick with decay. I realized then that this was the source of the smell when we neared the fort.

The pit below buzzed faintly with the sound of insects and whatever else lurked beneath the surface. My heart ached when I noticed the small bodies. Ones far too small for anyone to stomach being here. The most disturbing part was the way the surface seemed to move, up and down as things crawled around inside it. Causing shivers worked their way down my spine.

I needed to get away from this pit of death. Why are they doing this to people? The question gnawed at the back of my mind, but I forced it down. I’ll think about that when I’ve gotten away from this place.

My target was a large building, likely a barracks or mess hall, mostly concealed beneath a thick canopy of trees that had grown around it, one even sprouting from the roof. The structure was a single story and made of stone, with no windows from where I could see. That left me with only one option, the front door. Unfortunately, that wasn’t ideal.

A horde of monsters milled outside the building. They weren’t exactly guarding it, but they seemed agitated, snapping at one another. A bugbear punched a passing hobgoblin hard enough to send it crashing to the ground, where it lay motionless. None of the goblins or hobgoblins dared to react.

Shortly after that spectacle, the doors to the barracks swung open, revealing another bugbear, different from the rest. It was just as tall, but much fatter than I thought a bugbear could even get. Its round belly hung low, like an apron covering a brown cloth kilt draped over its hairy legs.

More unsettling was its right upper arm was missing from the biceps down. In the crook of its smaller arm on the same side, it carried a small sack. Without hesitation, it tossed the sack onto the ground in front of the crowd, where a frenzy among the goblins immediately erupted, fighting viciously over whatever was inside. The sound of snarls and yelps of pain filled the air as the goblins tore at one another, oblivious to anything else.

Paying no attention to the squabbling goblins, the fat bugbear lazily gestured for the others to head inside. Four bugbears who had been waiting outside quickly made their way in, followed by five hobgoblins. When the regular goblins tried to follow, the fat bugbear kicked the lead one in the chest so hard it squealed, tumbling backward into the two behind it. The rest continued fighting over whatever had been thrown on the ground, oblivious to the kick. The fat bugbear turned and walked back inside, his point made clear, the goblins weren't welcome.

It didn’t take long for the three goblins who’d tried to enter to join the squabble, tangling with the others still fighting over the sack. My attention shifted back to the building just as its door closed, catching a glimpse of the dimly lit interior, a long corridor lined with flickering torchlight. Getting inside just got a lot easier, but the same problem remained there were still too many goblins outside.

However, as I turned my gaze back to the brawl, the fight was nearing its end. Of the seven goblins, five were already sprawled out cold on the ground. The last one, the winner, was finishing off the final goblin with a rock he must’ve picked up from the vine-covered ground, smashing it down into the face of the losing goblin. The sound of bone crunching echoed in the air as the goblin brought the rock down again, ending the fight. Just what’s so important in that sack?

The goblin breathed heavily as he dropped the bloodied rock beside his last victim. Without hesitation, he walked over to the sack, untied the knot, and pulled out a hand, a small, human hand. It was far too small to belong in such a sack, and worse, it wasn’t just a severed hand… it was still attached to a body.

“What the hell was he going to do to…” The words died in my throat as the slow simmer of anger in my chest boiled over. My pulse thundered in my ears, and before I could think, I was moving. Any concern about attracting attention vanished, replaced by a singular, burning desire, to see these fucking monsters dead. All of them.

The goblin heard my approach just as I was halfway to him. His balding head snapped toward me, startled and off balance in his compromised position over the child. As much as I hated it, what he was doing gave me time to close the gap. I lunged, aiming for his face with my dagger.

But the nimble fuck jerked his head back in time, and instead of a clean stab, my blade only left a large gash across his forehead. My momentum carried me past him, and I tripped over a protruding vine I hadn’t noticed.

I hit the ground hard, my dagger slipping from my grasp in my tumble. For a moment, I struggled to orient myself, scrambling to my feet as anger still clouded my thoughts. I turned just in time to see the goblin charging at me, a vicious smile stretched across his hideous face along with an excitement somewhere I would’ve preferred not to have seen.

Panic surged through me as I threw out my hand. “Fireball!” I yelled, a yellow-red flame springing to life in my palm. But just as I prepared to hurl it, I hesitated, my eyes darting around at the flammable trees, vines, and dead leaves surrounding me. I couldn’t risk setting the whole place ablaze. At least not yet, anyway.

The goblin, startled by the flame, stumbled to a stop just as he was nearly upon me. Seizing the moment, I crushed the flame in my hand and lunged for the glint I’d seen out of the corner of my eye. My fingers found the hilt of my dagger just as the goblin lunged at me.

He landed hard on my back as I tried to swing the dagger at an awkward angle, nicking him but failing to land a proper hit. Weary of the blade, he grabbed my forearm with one hand, trying to stop me from stabbing at him again. With his other hand, he yanked a fistful of my hair, pulling it back viciously.

I yelped in pain, hearing the strands snap in his grip. His hot, stinking breath filled my nostrils as he chuckled, clearly enjoying my helplessness. I should’ve killed him when I had the chance.

I struggled beneath his weight, trying desperately to find the leverage to stab him, but with this green bastard atop my back, I couldn’t get the angle. The pressure on my scalp intensified, the goblin trying to keep me pinned. His grip was also like iron, his filthy nails digging into my forearm as I twisted, struggling to get him off.

A groan came from one of the nearby goblins as he began to stir. Panic surged through me as the bastard on top of me yelled something in grunted words toward the one waking up. The groggy goblin was slow to react, but I could see his mind quickly clearing.

Fuck! If only I had the strength! The thought hit me, and I cursed myself for being such a dumbass. Of course! I should’ve remembered sooner.

“Oaken body!” I shouted, feeling a surge of warmth spread from my abdomen, flooding into my muscles like a hot blanket draped over them. Strength surged into my limbs, seeping into every fiber of my body. It was exhilarating.

Suddenly, my left arm felt much easier to move in the goblin’s grip, but I still couldn’t quite get the leverage I needed to stab him. Instead, I pushed off the ground with my right arm, twisting my body. With newfound strength, I managed to knock the goblin off me, sending him tumbling to the side.

I rolled with my turn, the goblin losing his grip on my left arm from the sudden shift. Without hesitation, I brought my hand down, driving four inches of the six-inch blade deep into his chest. I expected blood to gush from the wound, but none did as I tried to yank the dagger out, but it wouldn’t give.

Footsteps shuffled behind me, and I had no time to waste. I released the dagger and stood as I spun around, only to have pain explode across the left side of my face. I hit the ground hard, reeling from the impact. My vision blurred, mind spinning as I tried to regain my bearings.

The dull thud of something hitting the ground next to my face drew my attention. A fucking rock? Before I could react, another goblin jumped on top of me, pinning me down from the front. This one was even more hideous than the last, his jagged teeth visible as he grinned inches from my face. His rancid breath assaulted my senses as he let out an excited laugh.

I shied back, trying to escape the stench of him, which only seemed to amuse him more. I needed to get this bastard off me, fast. But pain throbbed through my head, making it hard to think. His weight pressed down on my chest, his foul laughter ringing in my ears as I struggled beneath him.

To his surprise, I did the only thing that came to my muddle mind. I lifted his arms, the ones that gripped my wrists and held them on the ground with little effort. I forced them closer in front of us, then wrapped my hands around his neck. His orange-yellow eyes widened as I began to squeeze.

I stared into those bulging eyes of his, feeling the strength surging through my arms as his struggles intensified. He tried to pry my hands from his neck, but he was the one not strong enough, this time. Panic flashed across his face as he gave up trying to pull my arms apart, opting instead to claw at my face.

One of his filthy nails gouged a cut just above my left eye, but I shoved my hands forward, holding him far enough away that his shorter arms couldn’t reach me. His frantic struggles slowed, becoming weaker and more desperate as the seconds passed. A grim satisfaction settled within me as everything he tried didn’t work. I stared into his fear-drenched eyes as he grew weaker and weaker while I smiled.

Moments later, his body went limp, his eyes glassy and lifeless.

I threw his body to the side, breathing heavily from the exertion. My muscles ached, and I took a few seconds to steady myself, letting my nerves cool, though not entirely. With shaky steps, I stumbled over to the first goblin, planting my foot on his chest as I gripped the hilt of the dagger still lodged in him with both hands.

It took some effort, but I yanked the blade free. Must’ve gotten caught between his ribs, I thought, turning my attention to the rest of the unconscious, soon to be dead goblins. Since one had its face smashed in, the others were simple work. All it took was a swift slit across their throats to finish the job.

I willed the blade back into my inventory, then walked over to the child's still body. “Helia’s Embrace,” I whispered, letting the soothing warmth, accompanied by the now familiar stab of pain in my abdomen, wash over me as I knelt beside him. He was a boy, only a few years away from his teens.

Loath to put his body back into that sack, I summoned a dark green and gold ornate robe from the bracelet, draping it over him to preserve what was left of his dignity before wrapping it around him. I glanced around, searching for a suitable place to bury him, but there was nowhere, and the thought of putting him anywhere near that pit of death was sickening.

Instead, a thought struck me. I hesitated for a moment, then willed it, and the boy’s body disappeared into my inventory. Could it be possible to store living people too? If so, that would be incredible, an army within a bracelet. Well, not that I have one, I thought with a shake of my head, pushing aside the idea for now.

With that done, I turned toward the thick wooden doors of the building. I paused for a moment, taking a few deep breaths, and closed my eyes, trying to assess the lingering effects of my buff skill. Just like in the game, the skill had a three-minute time limit and a cooldown penalty.

The penalty worried me. In the game, it left you in a weakened state for a quarter of the skill’s active time, which meant if I used it carelessly, I could end up useless when it mattered most. Gwingiel had been practically helpless in front of the bugbears, and that’s likely how her arm was mangled. If I applied more buffs now, I’d risk crippling myself when I needed my strength the most, especially against whatever was inside.

Same rules as with the horned hounds, I thought numbly. I couldn’t afford the consequences of holding back my skills. If I ran into trouble, "I’ll use everything at my disposal from here on," I murmured to myself.

Just then, another thought struck me, I had forgotten about the rings. Quickly, I took the three rings out of my pocket and examined them up close. One was a simple silver band, engraved with runes on the outside. The second was more intricate, two dark metal bands connected by a white one, also etched with runes. The last was a green band studded with five round blue gems, the center gem slightly larger than the others.

I slipped the green studded band onto my right index finger first, bracing myself for the familiar spike of pain. It came, but far less intensely than when I first wore the bracelet. As soon as the pain faded, I felt it, another mental path opening in my mind. Unlike the inventory ring, this one didn’t hold information, but it was like a lightbulb turning on. A faint power surged through my body, similar to my Oaken Body skill, but far weaker.

Excitement bubbled up inside me as I put on the other two rings, each followed by a brief flash of pain. The second ring, the double-banded one, dimly flickered in my mind, strangely. After putting on the silver band, the exhaustion from earlier lessened, though not completely.

The problem with the double-banded ring was immediately clear, it felt empty, like it was out of power. I fiddled with it, eventually realizing I had to guide the warmth from my abdomen through my body and into the ring. It hurt to do, but it was bearable compared to what I’d experienced before. Once I completed the process, the dim mental "lightbulb" brightened.

Curious, I activated the double-banded ring and gaped as a transparent white bubble materialized around me. "A shield," I murmured in disbelief. I reached out to touch it, and as soon as my fingers made contact, the shield vanished.

Ignoring the fact that I’m an idiot for not equipping the rings before I left the tower, I cracked my neck and recharged the ring.

I took one final deep breath, steeling myself, then pulled on the door. It creaked softly as it opened, and the inside was thick with a musky smell that seemed to cling to my skin. Ignoring my surprise that it hadn’t been locked, I slipped inside.