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Summoner's Beginning: A LitRPG progression fantasy
Chapter 5 - A Deserting Strike Leader

Chapter 5 - A Deserting Strike Leader

As Marcus and his squad ventured deeper into the dungeon, he couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration. The goblin-infested caverns posed little threat to his seasoned team. Their strength was unmatched, and Marcus believed that the faster they cleared the dungeon, the higher his standing would be in the guild.

He addressed his team confidently, "Alright, everyone, stay sharp. We've got an E-rank portal to clear. We push through without breaks. The faster we finish, the better it'll look on our records."

‘My record as leader to be more exact’ Marcus had been trying to get better treatment in his guild ‘Frostwolves but they clearly didn’t respect his ability enough, it was time to show them why he’s almost able to challenge the ranker exams, one that would push him into C rank if he passed.

The squad members nodded in agreement, their trust in their leader unwavering. They continued to press forward, their steps echoing through the dimly lit passages. The deeper they went, the more confident Marcus felt in their ability to overcome any challenge.

When they reached the entrance of a massive chamber, Marcus couldn't contain his excitement. He glanced at his squad and gave the order.

"In there, team. This is where we make our mark."

Led by Marcus, they approached the entrance to the private instance. As they stepped through the portal, they found themselves in an entirely different area. The goblin village lay before them, and it was a sight to behold.

The village was nestled within a dense forest, and the trees towered above them, their canopies blocking out the sun. The air was heavy with the scent of earth and vegetation. The sounds of the forest creatures filled the air, and the distant chatter of the goblins could be heard.

Marcus's team members, armed and ready for battle, exchanged glances. They were prepared for a tough fight, but they had no idea what awaited them in this instance.

The private instance was separated from the outside world, meaning that nobody from the outside could see inside, and vice versa. They were on their own in here, although it’s not like they were going to be getting backup. Most guilds only sent people in after a significant amount of time had passed without any news from the strike squad.

But as they had rushed through, they would not be seeing any reinforcements for days at minimum. ‘Not like I’d need it for a dungeon of this level’ Marcus thought with a sharp toothy grin.

The inexperienced strike squad found themselves locked in a fierce battle with a group of goblins. Marcus fought with determination, his sword slicing through the air as he struck down one of the smaller goblins. His squad, while showing moments of individual skill, displayed a lack of coordination, and their inexperience was evident.

The casters provided crucial support, but their timing was inconsistent. As a goblin leaped toward Marcus, a caster managed to time their ice arrow correctly, freezing the creature in mid-air, causing it to shatter upon impact. Another caster cast a spell on Marcus, making him feel lighter and more agile, albeit with an inconsistent application that didn't fully enhance his combat prowess.

Marcus continued to press the attack, his strikes precise and deadly. He felled one goblin after another, his team struggling to work together effectively. For a brief moment, it seemed like victory was within their grasp, but their lack of coordination was beginning to show.

However, the situation shifted dramatically. With a series of quick commands, the goblins rallied and organized themselves, displaying a level of teamwork that the adventurers could only dream of.

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Looking to the source of the commands Marcus saw something that made him turn pale white, a Goblin Shaman was sitting in a throne off to the side where he hadn’t looked before, standing up and lifting it’s staff with a bright light and a crackling SZZZzzzz; it had started casting.

“Fuck!” Marcus shouted, dashing into the goblins. Hoping that the shaman wouldn’t attack him if he was too close to the goblins.

With the goblin shaman hurling spells at the strike squad, it quickly forced them to scatter and break formation. The goblins closed in, and Marcus found himself surrounded. He was furious; he couldn't believe that they were being bested by a group of goblins.

Anger coursed through him, and he fought with a newfound intensity. However, the goblin shaman's spells continued to rain down on them, making it difficult to mount a counterattack. The squad members were struggling to regroup, and Marcus knew that they needed to act fast to turn the tide of battle.

The strike squad was on the back foot, and the goblin shaman's cunning tactics had them on the brink of defeat. Marcus couldn't allow his squad to be beaten by these creatures. The battle had taken a dangerous turn, and it was clear that they needed a new strategy to overcome the goblin shaman's power.

As more and more of the strike squad fell to the goblins, Marcus's frustration was boiling over. His anger was consuming him, and he couldn't believe that they were being beaten down by these creatures. It wasn't so much that he cared about his fallen comrades; it was the indignation of being bested by what he considered inferior opponents.

His focus waned, replaced by unbridled rage. He lashed out at the goblins with a ferocity that bordered on reckless. But his fury made him less than helpful as other squad members tried to coordinate and retake control of the battle.

"Marcus, fall back! We need to regroup!" one of his comrades shouted, desperation in their voice.

But Marcus shrugged off their attempts at helping. He felt that he had something to prove, not only to his squad but to himself. This was a matter of pride, and he couldn't allow the goblins to best him. He didn't listen to reason or to the pleas of his teammates. His anger clouded his judgment, and it was clear that they needed a cooler head to lead them out of this dire situation.

“THEY’RE JUST GOBLINS, KEEP FIGHTING!”

As chaos engulfed the battleground, Marcus could hardly believe his eyes. What he had assumed would be a straightforward raid on an E-rank portal had quickly turned into a nightmare. The goblin horde was more organized and formidable than he had ever anticipated. The tide of the battle had shifted rapidly, and his strike squad was on the brink of annihilation.

But Marcus wasn't focused on the dire situation at hand. No, his thoughts were consumed by something entirely different: his reputation within the guild. He couldn't bear the thought of returning as a failure, of facing the scorn and ridicule of his fellow guild members. The idea of being associated with a squad that had failed in an E-rank dungeon was simply unacceptable.

Amid the chaos, he reached for the item he had purchased, the "Talisman of the Deserter." It was a lifeline, a means of escape from this disastrous situation. Marcus had invested a significant amount of money in this A rank item, viewing it as insurance against the unexpected.

‘No, it’s too valuable. I can find another way out.’

Then, as his heart raced and he considered using the talisman, he witnessed a sight that sent him over the edge. Emerging from the depths of the dungeon, a rudimentary golem took shape, resembling those from C- no maybe even B-rank portals the highest rankers described. It stood more than eight feet tall, its massive frame towering over him. The golem was a bulky and formidable figure, its stony exterior adorned with intricate runes and patterns that pulsed with an otherworldly energy.

Marcus's fear and panic reached their zenith as he watched the golem's arrival. He was convinced that they had encountered something beyond their capacity to defeat. With a surge of desperation, he muttered the incantation for the talisman, which whisked him away from the battlefield and back to the dungeon's entrance. Gasping for breath, his heart pounding, he found himself in the relative safety of the dungeon's entrance. He had left his comrades behind to face a grim fate.

But Marcus was far from consumed by guilt or regret for his actions. Instead, his thoughts immediately turned to damage control. He couldn't allow his reputation to be tarnished by the failure of the strike squad. He got up and started heading away, shrugging off the officials that were keeping civilians away from the portal before he got a strange report from one of them.

“Sir, someone had dashed in there after the strike squad. What happened inside?”

The gears began spinning in Marcus’s head.

‘Perhaps… I can use this.’ His heart bleeding as he stealthily discarded the broken pieces of the former A rank talisman, its former light having diminished.

“Well… You see-”