Deep shadows hung over the assemblage of huts, with only the hint of an impending sunrise to light the way for Jerome and his tiny band of marauders.

There were about a hundred gnolls in this village, and the goal was to kill every single one of them. They’d dig out the crystals, let them sit for a couple days, then boom: loyal gnoll army. It was the exact strategy that King Katani had used to build his power, and it was the strategy that would bring the king down.

The trick was that the group taking down the village was Jerome, Krystyna, and six barely-leveled gnolls.

Jerome waited for one to walk around the corner, then he shot a stone at it with Recoil Burst. The stone, carefully lined up with plenty of time to aim, went straight through the gnoll’s head and killed it in one shot. The only sound was that of a head quietly separating from its body, so no one was alerted… yet.

Before the alert went out they wanted to kill as many like this as possible: silently. The strategy relied on taking them on in waves instead of all at once. If the village gnolls could form into a cohesive fighting force then they were done for, even with their fantastic moveset and their Mageless Armor.

He pulled another stone from the Bag of Holding. There were dozens such stones in there, although Jerome suspected he wouldn’t be able to use them all before the fighting got too intense. He heard a slight pop and saw that Krystyna had taken out another wandering gnoll.

“They’ll start to wonder where they went soon enough,” he whispered.

“Go more aggressive?”

“Not yet.”

The village had about thirty huts that were made for sleeping and another half dozen with specialized purposes. They wanted to clear out the specialized area first, since that was where the highest value targets were.

All six specialized tents were in a circle, a fire burning in the center surrounded by four guards.

“Guess we didn’t have to bring our own.”

“Still glad we did.”

“Simultaneous shots?”

“Let’s wait to see if any of them try to take a piss.”

They waited for a bit until they realized their error. “They don’t have to drink to live, so…”

“Right. Simultaneous shots. I have the one on the far left.”

They got into position, hidden by the early morning shadows.

“Three, two, one, go.”

Both shots hit, and two gnoll heads rolled away from the fire.

“What the hell?” said one of the other guards.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

They shot two more rocks, but didn’t have enough time to aim properly. One rock hit a gnoll’s shoulder hard enough to lodge itself in the flesh, a hit that would eventually kill the gnoll… but not soon enough. The gnoll started screaming.

Jerome yelled the signal and their gnolls rushed towards the village, death on their minds. Fires started one by one, herbal mixtures carefully combined and set at the base of flammable huts. It started with the weapons depot and the leader’s house. Then several of the residential huts caught. The targets were spread out so as to cause the most confusion and to provide no easy answers as to where the attack was coming from.

Maximize terror.

Krystyna sprinted to the center of the circle and finished off the two guards that remained there.

Gnolls poured out of their spread-out sleeping quarters. Jerome took a position near one of the more central points and sent rock after rock into the stream of emerging enemies, hitting something about half the time. They still didn’t know where it was coming from.

More rocks hit from the other side, the work of Krystyna. She must have already finished off the leader.

Meanwhile, the allied gnolls picked off surprised enemy gnolls around the edges. In the darkness and confusion it was hard to tell friend from foe, except to the small team who knew that any frantic, confused gnoll was their enemy. They’d be able to take down gnolls a couple levels higher than them, given their Blessing and the element of surprise.

Gnolls continued to run around, seeking some order…

Dawn had been the perfect time, Jerome realized as he reached into his bag and found that he’d actually run out of stones. Not every single one had hit, but the gnoll’s numbers had been reduced significantly. He worked his way over to Krystyna.

“How many rocks do you have left?”

“Just finished.”

“Then let’s do this.”

They stepped out into the open, into the chaotic crowd of gnolls. Death went wherever they stepped as punches landed and necks snapped, the dealers of the blows able to dodge most of the confused counterattacks and then heal themselves of any damage.

One gnoll dragged the blazing body of another out of a hut, wailing. Jerome wrapped his hands on the living gnoll’s skull and twisted.

Dancing firelight turned the gnoll’s green blood into running black shadows.

The burning gnoll body smelled like bacon, and Jerome was disgusted with himself for the thought.

They’ll revive.

They’ll all revive, and they were enemies who would have killed him without a second thought.

He stared at the burning body anyways.

That got him an axe in the back. Even with the armor it did 28 damage. A solid hit.

But it was nothing to him. He channeled Refill HP as he turned to size up his opponent. Basic low-level gnoll. By the time he dodged the second blow Jerome had already healed himself completely.

The gnoll swung a third time and Jerome stepped to the side to dodge, then landed a quick punch to the gnoll’s face. That was just a distraction until he could get both his hands around its throat. Once there he used Recoil Burst, neatly separating head from body.

Just like cutting down a tree.

Suddenly Jerome wanted a drink.

But he couldn’t get a drink.

Not now.

He couldn’t stop now.

More huts caught fire; one of his gnolls had gotten the bright idea to spread the flames with burning sticks and it was working, adding to the hellish glare.

He had to keep working.

He killed another, and another, and another.

Eventually they stopped coming.

Eventually the huts burnt down to embers, the sun rose, and the adrenaline faded. Nothing was left of the enemy except ashes and corpses, illuminated all too harshly in the cold morning light.

Upon this foundation of horrific slaughter he would build his army.

They’ll respawn, he told himself.

They were enemies, and they would all respawn.