Humans were so annoying sometimes. They were so fixated on their moral superiority, as if killing people made him a bad person. It wasn’t like he went out of his way to do it either. It was usually an accident or self-defense; and yet, once again, some sweaty human was trying to kill him.
Was this just what his life was going to be like from now on? Was he really going to be attacked every week for no reason?
Not that any of these people were without cause to slay the goblin with the Mass Murderer and Monster titles, but Chef didn’t care about reasons like ‘ethical duty’ or ‘revenge.’ No, he didn’t even consider the possibility of these attempted killings being premeditated to prevent future loss of life. For Chef, killing someone or something always related to the top two priorities in life. And considering both, there was only one conclusion to reach with the burly, gray haired elder in front of him.
You really don’t look tasty. Not even a little bit. And I somehow doubt you’re able to kill me.
A blade wreathed in crimson flames descended upon Chef at blazing speeds. The fire seemed to work as both a propellant and an enhancement to the metal, allowing the skill to introduce greater speed and strength all by itself. It was incredibly dangerous to most fighters let alone an unarmed goblin. At least, that’s how it should have been.
Chef activated his favorite combat skill and ran away, making a considerable amount of distance between him and his attacker before summoning a door and opening it. The guild master gave him little time to peruse his storage, but his pantry had shrunk considerably during his time in prison, resulting in hopefully decreased search times.
As the man got close enough to deliver a thrust towards the goblin’s exposed back, a green hand grasped reinforced wood, spinning to parry the incoming blade with a spearhead. Chef was unfamiliar with spears and swords as he’d only ever fought bare handed or with a knife, but his skills prevented that inexperience from showing too badly. They didn’t, however, close the gap entirely.
The goblin didn’t push the advantage his sudden move gave him, allowing the guild master to make distance between them and find his stance. They stared at each other for a little bit, their relative reaches having swapped due to the goblin’s choice in weapon.
The guild master assumed the choice was intentional, but the truth would leave him disappointed. It wasn’t that his opponent was some genius fighter, rather that the spear was too long to fit on any of the shelves. As a result, it just stood in the corner, easily accessible. Chef didn’t grab it because it was his weapon of choice in this fight but because he couldn’t find his sword or knife in time.
Regardless, the standstill didn’t last long as the burly man charged back in, attempting to break through Chef’s guard. The burning blade made no noticeable impact on the spear regardless of their many clashes thanks to the mana that Chef continually poured into himself and each individual blow.
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It didn’t take long for the difference in their mana stores to show.
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After a few exchanges, the guild master backed off to once again reassess his opponent, but this time Chef used the opportunity to do some meditating. Apprehensive of the glowing goblin, the guild master simply watched him for a few seconds before realizing his mistake.
Deren was a veteran with more combat experience than most of his adventurers combined, but he simply couldn’t prepare for the medley of skills that this goblin displayed. It seamlessly used combat skills one after another and then began to glow. Most would assume it to be a temporary enhancement of a kind, meaning that disengaging and waiting it out was the best move, but instead it was channeling a recovery ability. Despite all logic, this goblin was displaying skills and abilities from at least four separate classes while being a cook only in his levels.
There was no world in which the guild master would believe that this goblin was only five years old, even if it was true. The skills and abilities on display here should have been impossible with those classes, and yet he wouldn’t disbelieve what his eyes were showing him. There should be no monster that could give any of the skills on display here, but there should be no way for a pure cook class to gain combat skills aside from eating monsters.
Something was very wrong here; perhaps on a level deeper than anyone could have expected. Deren no longer could afford to consider victory or defeat; he had to escape and relay this information to somebody, anybody. If what he suspected was actually true, it would change everything.
A single step backwards was all the opening the goblin needed. A green hand left the spear shaft only to suddenly be holding a ceramic ball. Its eyes darted between Deren and the guard some distance away before it activated the same movement skill from before, instantly closing the gap between the combatants.
He couldn’t react in time; the burning blade came down far too slow to intercept the green palm striking his chest. Air exploded out of his lungs and the sound of metal cracking filled his ears, but neither of those registered to him. His eyes opened wide as he flew backwards at an alarming speed, his senses telling him immediately that the strike just now broke several of his ribs.
Deren struck the ground, rolling painfully into and over tree roots before slamming into a massive wooden trunk. An instinctual gasp of pain died in his throat with no air in his lungs to support it. Just as he managed to regain his senses enough to take a single breath, his eyes opened to see the clay ball exploding right in front of him.
Purple smoke filled his vision as his instincts fought each other. He needed to breath but knew that doing so would kill him. He had to crawl out of the smoke and get away. If he just used the poison cloud as cover, he could—
A green foot kicked away his sword before pushing down on his back.
“Just breath in. It’s over; no point in fighting it.”
He refused to give the monster the satisfaction, scrambling to get away with three different skills and two spells enhancing his body. The pain in his abdomen broke his concentration on his spells, leaving the mana to dissipate uselessly into the air. With only his skills empowering him, the strike to his back overwhelmed the rest of his strength as he collapsed once more to the ground.
After a few more attempts, mana drain and fatigue finally allowed his basest instincts to take over. His mouth opened and drank greedily from the purple fog around him, plunging him into darkness.