Artivan didn’t flinch. His feet were already placed to brace himself, should a fight start. His ability that made him immovable would be his first to activate. The winged sword only had one or two more uses before it was simply a normal weapon again. They didn’t have time to wait for it to recharge.
The Thunderstrike Maul was completely uncharged. Owin had no way to build the charge without drawing a ton of attention to himself, which didn’t seem worth it at the moment.
Was this a fight they could win? The other three heroes stood confidently in the back.
Hero
Elas Olalee
Wizard
Void Nexus Hero Company
Level: 17
Strength: 101
Constitution: 113
Dexterity: 110
Intelligence: 178
Wisdom: 80
Charisma: 81
Elas held a wooden staff that looked like three separate staves braided together with a gnarled chunk on top. Most of his face was hidden by a wide-brimmed pointed hat. He wore robes that hung loose, hiding anything else he might be carrying on his body.
Hero
Titus Niraeumus
Mender
Void Nexus Hero Company
Level: 18
Strength: 91
Constitution: 158
Dexterity: 85
Intelligence: 100
Wisdom: 185
Charisma: 51
Titus wore metal armor that looked like a simplified version of Artivan’s. It covered his whole body and obscured most of his face, though a slit with eye holes ran right through the center. He had a spear and round, wooden shield with a metal bump in the center. His bag was the biggest and heaviest looking of the whole party.
Hero
Placus Varro
Umbra
Void Nexus Hero Company
Level: 18
Strength: 63
Constitution: 67
Dexterity: 201
Intelligence: 80
Wisdom: 178
Charisma: 81
Placus had a short, straight bladed sword, very similar to the satyr umbra who had helped Owin on the second floor. Placus’s face was mostly hidden under an oversized hood. His constitution was one of the lowest Owin had ever seen, but with dexterity that high, his aim would be deadly with everything. Owin could only imagine having dexterity that high.
“Do you really think a washed up knight and a level 1 goblin are going to scare us away?” Siora said. She let her glowing sword hang near the ground. The grass immediately started smoking.
“This is not worth your life,” Artivan said.
“Killing a sentient goblin? I’ll become famous!” Siora made some signal with her hands that caused her party to fan out.
“Veph doesn’t care about you.”
Siora’s face contorted into a scowl. “And you think some old man is worth more of my attention? Last I heard, Chorsay can hardly stand up out of a chair on his own.”
Artivan dropped to one knee, getting his head near Owin’s. In a quiet voice, but loud enough for Owin’s huge ears to pick up, he whispered, “Throw the hammer. It’s too heavy for them. You know who to go for first?”
Owin nodded.
“Planning how to flee?” Siora asked. Despite how cocky she appeared, she made no move forward. She was clearly cautious of Artivan, even if she had just insulted him.
Artivan stood again, repositioning from how Owin had seen him stand before. His weight was shifted differently, and his arm was held up, with the sword pointing back, ready to swing straight down. The damaged shield was covering his chest and neck.
“I will not hesitate to kill you,” Artivan said.
“A Nimble Hog who wants hero blood on their hands? That’s a first. If you give him up, we let you go.”
“Owin,” Artivan said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “What do we say?”
“No mercy.” Owin spun and threw the Thunderstrike Maul. As soon as the hammer left his hands, Artivan rushed forward, immediately closing the gap between him and Siora.
Elas, the wizard, lifted his staff, about to smash it on the ground, when Artivan flashed red. All the eyes of the humans turned to Artivan as if they were unable to look away. His sword clashed with Siora’s, sending bright sparks out as her glowing blade heated the winged sword.
Before Elas could finish casting his staff’s ability, the Thunderstrike Maul smashed into his chest, throwing him backward like a sack of flour. He flew back, crashing into a birch tree that shook and dropped leaves from the impact.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Artivan flashed white, causing the ground beneath him to shudder. His shield smashed into Siora’s face, ripping the skin from her lip to her ear. She stumbled back, unable to turn her eyes from Artivan.
Owin drew both knives and sprinted past them. The umbra had vanished in a small puff of smoke, leaving the mender standing, staring at Artivan. He was visibly trying to turn his attention away.
Owin leapt and crashed into the mender, driving Naxile’s knife right through the opening in his helmet. Metal grated on bone and blood poured from the helmet. Before Owin could do more, Titus grabbed him and tossed him to the ground.
The attack had helped break his focus on Artivan, which he now effortlessly turned to Owin. He ripped his helmet off and tossed it to the side. Owin had missed his eye, stabbing right beside his nose. Blood poured over his cheek and lips.
“Fucking goblin!” Titus shouted as he touched his hand to his cheek. It flashed green and the wound closed. A gasp of pain escaped Titus as the injury healed.
Using a spell meant his others of the same Power were on cooldown. There was no better time to attack. Owin leapt again, but he caught the vague shimmering outline of something right in front of him. He quickly brought the stone knife up in time to catch the umbra’s sword swing. The clash of blades tossed Owin back into the grass where he bounced and rolled to a stop right in front of the kennel.
Artivan shoved Siora onto her back with another bash of his shield. Before he could step forward and finish her off, the umbra was in Artivan’s face, attacking wildly. Parts of Artivan’s armor were melted from where Siora’s blade had struck. He didn’t have any obvious injuries.
Elas the wizard slowly stood and tried to pick up the Thunderstrike Maul. It didn’t move an inch as he yanked on the heavy metal hammer. Blood ran from his mouth, nose, and eyes as he stood on wobbly feet.
Titus stalked toward Owin, ignoring the clash of the umbra and Artivan directly beside him. Artivan ducked under an umbra swing and jabbed the edge of his shield into the umbra’s unguarded stomach. With such a low constitution, Placus the umbra immediately vomited blood from the blow and fell onto his back.
Titus hesitated, turning to make eye contact with Artivan. Before any of his party could get up and intervene, Artivan’s sword flashed blue as he activated the true power of the Winged Sword of the Swift Behemoth. Artivan’s increased weight from his ability transferred into the sword as he swung horizontally.
Titus brought up his spear in plenty of time to block, unaware of the sword’s true power. With all of Artivan’s weight and strength put into the swing, the sword effortlessly chopped through the shaft of the spear, and cleaved through Titus’s plate armor. Artivan swung all the way around, not slowed down as he chopped through metal, flesh, and bone. By the time Artivan returned to his stance, ready to face Siora and Placus again, Titus hit the ground in two halves.
“What the fuck?” Siora weakly climbed to her feet. Her face bled severely as she pulled Placus to his feet. The umbra was barely standing after such a direct blow. “What kind of fucking monster are you?”
“What do we say, Owin?” Artivan shouted.
“No mercy.” Owin brandished both knives and glared at Elas.
The wizard, far behind the main fight, was barely standing. The collision with the hammer had broken bones. While his health likely only dropped a chunk, the real damage was more significant to how well he functioned.
“One more time,” Artivan said.
“No mercy.” Owin sprinted. Siora’s blade swung down as Owin passed, missing by inches. In the time she was focused on Owin, Artivan attacked, chopping into her arm. He wasn’t able to pierce her chainmail without activating the sword, but the attack threw her off balance, allowing for another bash of his shield on her face.
Owin leapt as soon as he was within range. With his full speed and all his strength put into the jump, it was easy to tackle Elas the wizard. He drove both knives into the wizard’s chest as they collided. Owin practically threw the wizard’s corpse into the ground.
Owin landed and skidded. Placus the umbra looked back, horrified. Owin grabbed the Thunderstrike Maul and threw it again. Unfortunately, his aim was off, causing it to hit the ground early and throw up a shower of dirt.
“Siora,” Placus said, stepping farther from Artivan.
Siora was already out of his range, trying to stop the excessive bleeding from her face. She opened her mouth to say something and blood poured out, along with at least a few teeth. She held up her hand, signaling something with her hand.
Owin put the stone knife in his belt and grabbed Elas’s staff. Placus continued backing away, keeping Owin in his view, while Siora had her free hand pressed to her mouth, which continued bleeding profusely.
“Remember,” Artivan said, voice loud even with his visor down. “You came after us.” He took a step toward Siora, who immediately stepped back. Between the gash on her cheek and her bleeding mouth, the entire front of her chainmail was painted red.
Owin sprinted at Placus, who immediately vanished, reappearing back at the hallway that held the floor’s entrance. Owin skidded, turning his attention to Siora. She sheathed her sword and started running toward Placus. A trail of blood followed her.
“Owin,” Artivan said.
Owin was about to start running again when the old knight’s voice stopped him.
“Let them go.”
“You said no mercy.”
“Aye.” Artivan lifted his visor. The cut on his head was bleeding again, though he had no new injuries. “And we gave them none. Two of their comrades are in pieces.” He sheathed his sword and rolled his shoulders. “If I see either of you again, you’re dead!”
Placus the umbra guided Siora into the hallway, quickly slamming the door.
“They’re trapped in there! We can finish them now!”
Artivan approached Owin and dropped to one knee. He grunted and placed a hand on Owin’s shoulder. “You were brave, and we’re both safe. They won’t attack us again. We should focus on the quest to get you stronger. We can loot these two, and if the Void Nexus idiot attacks us again, you will be able to handle them both on your own.”
“I don’t like letting them go.”
“Brutality has its place in the world, little goblin. I hope you never have to become one of the brutes. Get stronger. Prove yourself. Show the world that you refuse to be scared.”
Owin nodded.
“Now, tell me about this staff.”
Artisan Level Staff
Spells: Fireball, Viscous Fire
5/6 uses remaining for today
“Oh.” Artivan tapped his armored finger on the staff. “If he would have finished using that staff, we might be looking a little more burnt right now. Viscous Fire is a terrifying spell. You can’t escape if it hits you.”
The staff was far too tall for Owin. He felt like Vrod, carrying around a staff clearly meant for a human of average height.
“Can you hold it?” Owin asked.
“Are you certain? It could be useful.”
“Just throw it at me in a fight.”
Artivan smiled, took the staff, and found a spot for it on his back. “With your dexterity, I’m not sure you would catch it.”
“I can pick it up.”
“Sure. Let’s check what else these heroes had on them.”
Artivan checked the mender while Owin dug through the bag of the wizard. He found a single white intelligence buff potion, along with four mana potions and some random gems.
Owin carried the armful of things back, letting them fall right beside Artivan, who was still digging through the mender’s bag.
“His armor appears to be mostly ordinary.” Artivan pulled out a health potion and drank it right away. The cut on the side of his head, the little that could be seen through the open visor, closed. “Find anything good?”
He pushed the gems around, then tapped his finger on the intelligence potion. “Drink it. No reason to wait.”
“Buffs are good for you too,” Owin said.
“Not as helpful as they are for you.”
Owin drank the potion and gave Artivan the empty bottle. He chuckled and stuffed it into his bag.
Intelligence +30
Intelligence: 145
The blue mana bar grew by a significant chunk, though half of it was still burned away from the apparition damage.
“Do you feel smarter?” Artivan asked.
“Would it work that way?”
He shrugged. “I don’t have any ideas how else it would work. Strength appears to work that way.”
“I have no idea.”
Artivan tossed a few gold pieces to Owin. Each smacked into his chest as he failed to catch even a single one. “Your share of the dungeon gold.”
Owin picked them up and tossed them into his bag, along with the rest. So far, he hadn’t needed to spend any. But that was mostly because everyone who would take it ended up dead. Maybe he needed to try buying something on the next floor.
“If we find a dexterity potion, you’re drinking that as fast as possible,” Artivan said. He stood, groaning a bit with the effort. “Now, I think it’s time we finish these hobgoblins.”
Owin couldn’t help but stare at the door to the hallway. Placus and Siora were still inside, watching. Waiting.
Artivan had said no mercy, and yet, he showed mercy the first chance he got. That’s what made him different from the humans that had been forced into hiding. It’s what made him different from the two corpses they were leaving behind.
Owin feared he would see them again, and if he did, he would show them what it really looked like to have no mercy.