CLAK
The chief’s ears perked up as he heard a clattering noise from ahead of him, forcing his attention to the front even as he himself wanted to watch his back. The bloodlust at his back seemed to increase in pressure. The clattering continued to approach, the sound of dozens of tacking sounds reached the chief’s ears, like stone grinding together, and the cracking of bones. Something large began to push its head out of a pile of nearby centipedes, shoving them out of its way with a head larger than a dinner plate in diameter. As the massive centipede shoved itself out of the swarm, it reared its head up a surprising 3.5 feet (1.1 m) high. The fact that it could rear its body shocked the chief, as the centipede appeared to weigh hundreds of pounds. Its oversized mandibles looked large enough to grip the chief’s entire body-a prospect the chief did not want to test out. The chitin which the centipede’s shell was made of seemed to be several inches thick in some places, and was dull gray, reflecting the dim glow of the overhead bulb fruit. The centipede looked like it was carved from a solid block of stone, and appeared to be 12 feet (3.6 m) long. Its beady black eyes met the chief’s stare as it clattered forward towards him.
CLAKCLAKCLAK
Suddenly, the centipede’s pace increased rapidly, charging towards the chief with reckless abandon. The circle of goblins surrounding the chief also closed in as well, and the pressure from the chief’s back seemed to hone in before erupting in a tidal wave of bloodlust. The chief immediately took action, diving to his left while swinging his club in the direction of an approaching goblin warrior. His eyes traveled to the right, as he saw the blur of the green mantis flash through the spot where he had just been, continuing until the mantis vanished from sight, squeezing through the encirclement and vanishing from view once again
“GROAHHHH, [Club Proficiency]! For the lord!!!!” The goblin warrior swung a branch he was wielding towards the chief. A wolf which had been behind him leapt around, coming for the chief with its fangs, snarling in aggression.
“Tch, [Twin Strikes]!” The chief clicked his tongue in frustration before activating the stamina-draining skill, his club arm flashing out ridiculously fast, two blurs seemed to split off of his arm, one striking the wolf right on the top of its head, causing it to burst open like a watermelon. The other blur smashed straight through the tree branch of the goblin warrior before hitting his head, causing the top-half of his skull to get crushed straight off his face. The bodies of the dead creatures slumped down after the impact. The other monsters closing on the chief blanched in surprise, before pressing forward with reckless abandon, all the more eager to throw their lives away for their lord, the Dungeon. A goblin berserker led the charge, followed by a couple of wolves. They were clubbed down within 5 moves, the berserker taking a heavier beating than the wolves. A rock thrown at the chief by a goblin scout was deflected with a twist of his wrist, then another goblin warrior met their demise at the chief’s club. As he whipped around, he was met with three wolves mid-leap.
“[Twin Strikes]! Gah!” The goblin chief growled in pain as his left arm swelled at the use of his skill, firing off two profound bursts with his club, instantly claiming the life of two of the wolves. The last one fell upon him, knocking him onto his back, teeth tearing at his throat, yet unable to pierce through his tough skin and end his life. The chief’s club fell onto the wolf’s back, shattering its spine. As the wolf yelped in pain, the goblin chief rolled it off, looking up to see himself face to mandibles with the massive centipede.
CRUNCH
The mandibles with a toughness mirroring stone grabbed the chief before crunching down on his body.
“GWAHHHHHHHHHHH!!” The chief howled in pain and surprise as the force behind the centipede’s bite cracked several of his ribs and ripped open his skin. The remaining dungeon-born goblins and wolves leapt towards the trapped chief eagerly. The chief’s eyes flashed with a trace of fear, as he felt the pressure brought forth from the Sickle-Blade Mantis erupt again, somewhere from behind him. Luckily, the centipede had grabbed nearby his ribcage, yet hadn’t trapped his arms against his body. He simply didn’t have the strength to break free of the centipede’s bite, unfortunately. His flails with the club barely left a scratch on the centipede’s hard carapace, and the [Twin Strikes] skill was best used against two enemies, as the attacks couldn’t be directed in the same direction. The only option was to await the horde and use his trump card. As the group of goblins and wolves leapt at him, the mantis attempted to make a move, yet was stopped as the earth around its feet wrapped around it, locking it in place.
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As the mantis struggled in confusion, the chief felt the danger to his back subsiding, and his lips twisted into a pained smile. Gwenthy…thank you. The chief obviously knew Gwenthy’s true name, and regarded Gwenthy as one of his close friends, regardless of his trustworthiness and shadiness. Gwenthy had saved him more times than he could count, and once again he assisted where it counted. Now, the chief could fight without having to worry about the mantis. As the goblins and wolves leapt towards him, he activated his trump card skill.
“[Whirlwind Strikes]! Take this!” The chief roared with the activation of his skill, as his body bulged with muscle. His right arm grabbed against one of the hateful mandibles holding him as his left arm began to whip up in a flurry, moving so quickly that his arm was a blur. The force of his swings caused him to slowly begin to rotate in the centipede’s crushing bite, even as his flesh began to rend and his bones creaked in protest, he continued to rotate while his arm threw out powerful strikes. A goblin warrior crushed a branch over the chief’s head and was smashed apart in retaliation. A berserker smashed both of his fists into the chief’s back, yet was struck by the skill, falling to the ground with a collapsed chest showing bones and organs. Wolves and other goblins were blown apart from the flurry of strikes, yet the hateful mandibles of the centipede never yielded.
As the momentum from the chief’s skill stopped, he suddenly realized that the silence of the battlefield was deafening. The chief suddenly felt the mandibles holding him begin to loosen, and suddenly he was released, falling to the ground in an unsightly manner. Shakily pulling himself up with his right hand, he looked around at the battlefield and his face blanched immediately.
Spikes of stone littered the battlefield, seemingly erupting out of the ground with a density similar to a forest. The corpses of insects, wolves, and goblins were impaled on them, blood and ichor dripping into the grass below. Other corpses lay outside of the spike-field, skulls caved in with heavy stones. The Sickle-Blade mantis lay, dead, with its body half-buried in the ground, spikes of stone impaling through its body. The massive centipede he had been fighting also lay on the ground, churning earth sucking it into the ground as well. The arthropod could barely lift its head anymore as its body began to sink deeper into the ground, stopping when only its head and waving antennae were left sticking above the ground. As the chief’s vision panned over each dead goblin, his eyes began to widen and water, his heart breaking little by little. All of the goblins he had saved over the past year, all of his companions. Their bodies lay strewn about the battlefield like the aftermath of a beast raid.
“NYAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” The chief’s vision staggered over to the source of the laugh, before focusing on a figure located near the edge of the battlefield, just barely within the forest line. The hunched figure had a hideous face even for a goblin, sneering in contempt, covered in scars, some still appearing to be fresh even after many months of healing. A robe adorned him, and he leaned against a staff as he howled with glee towards the ceiling of the cave. A mask lay on the ground, crushed into pieces by a stone spike. As realization filled his muddy mind, the chief’s vision began to turn red as his left arm, clenched his club. There was only one being on the battlefield capable of this much devastation. The goblin he had trusted the most had betrayed him and his tribe ruthlessly.
“GWENTHY!!!!” The chief howled in rage and sadness, his voice carrying over to the figure. Abruptly, the figure stopped cackling, then turned to stare down at the chief with contempt. Seeing that awful look, the last vestiges of disbelief disappeared from the chief's mind, and his heart grew cold with hate.
“Chief.” The advisor grinned as he looked down on the chief. “I’m glad that you’re here for the finale. I will claim the dungeon core as my own, and wipe out your petty goblin group in the process. With the mana I gain from eating your flesh, I will evolve into a higher being, AND RULE THE WORLD!!!” With that, the advisor began to laugh even louder, his voice seeming to echo within the chief’s ears. The chief struggled to take a step forward, and found that his legs were half-buried in the earth, and continuing to sink. The chief attempted to raise his club, yet found that his left arm dangled listlessly, overworked due to the use of his skills. His right arm was reached over and grabbed his club, then a spike of stone impaled it, ripping it straight off his body. The chief didn’t even cry out in pain, his hateful gaze continuing to stare at the advisor who betrayed him. As the laughing figure of Gwenthy filled his mind, the chief’s sanity began to spiral out of control.