That shout got to Tarphus, but it was not on the same level as the challenge, but it could get there someday, and Tarphus will not allow that to happen. So Tarphus then yelled out, "Open Fire!"

Like that, his squad burst into action, autoguns blaring to life, the Tech-Priest gathered the four non-combatants, and Tarphus took out his knife and autopistol. The goblins were as weak as the others that they had dealt with before.

Goblins surrounded his squad, twenty in total, on the bigger side and only wielding sharpened sticks. However, they got Gus in the leg, but that was it; they were all killed in the battle.

Before Tarphus could say anything, the Tech-Priest burned the bodies of the goblins. Guile started tending to Gus, Tarphus nodded thankfully towards the Tech-Priest. His nod was returned.

He sent Kit to scout out the surrounding area. Unfortunately, the gunfire might attract the goblins; if so, they will rush towards his position. Tarphus quickly repositioned his squad away from the site.

It was three hours before Kit came back and with grave news. The goblins were taller and faster than their original counterparts, by how much, Kit did not know. However, there were around ninety of the things and a large building nesting, no doubt.

He felt hatred for these things; he then brought out the entrenching tools and mines. They spent two full days digging out a trench and placing mines so that the enemy would be forced into a Killzone.

Tarphus then had Kit start the fun. It took thirty minutes, but Tarphus saw a goblin scout crest the hill and see his trench and retreat. An hour later, eighty goblins came charging down the slope and into the kill zone.

The explosions killed most of them, leaving only twenty injured due to the mines. Tarphus grinned as he gunned the last of the bastards down. His squad cheered as the last of the goblins were killed.

He had his squad torch wherever the goblins died. Thankfully the Fungus was not at the stage where its hosts spread it by existing breath or whatnot. If they die, it stays in the body but infects any live creature that touched the corpse.

Though Kit started injecting the squad with something after the Tech-Priest confers with it. Apparently, the creature's fungal spores were edible to humans, but a skin infection would have horrible results.

Either way, Tarphus would destroy any spore with fire as he did not want to think about eating a war-like fungus. But all he could get from Kit was something that would prevent the Fungus from gaining a foothold in their skin.

Whether or not the Fungus started this way, Tarphus did not know, and that terrified him. He now had to find out if he could push. He wanted more troops, but he will make do with what he had. Tarphus then moved closer to the nest.

There were twenty goblins, and Tarphus could only laugh as they charged his squad with a grenade and many bullets. The goblins were killed. The Tech-Priest burned the body as the team ran into the nest.

The flamer was upfront, the squealing of goblins scratched at Tarphuses ears as they went room by room, corridor by corridor. Burning the goblins was passed to the Tech-Priest as they ran out of fuel.

Grenades ran out quickly after that. Though the Tech-Priest did not run out of fuel somehow. Tarphus's autoguns were a different story; some of his more enthused squad were down to their pistols.

Tarphus winced as a dagger was stabbed into his side. Tarphus shifted his hips and stopped suddenly. Flinging the goblin away from him and shooting it twice. Tarphus then checked his resupply.

Two minutes until resupply, get into a secure room.

It was then that the squad found the center; they all had wounds, cuts, scrapes, and bruises. Upon seeing the resupply timer, Tarphus smiled a cold and cruel smile as he had his squad hold position.

The goblins came, but they were surprisingly strong compared to the rabble that came before them. Their equipment was also enhanced; daggers were replaced by blunt short swords.

They wore more than a loincloth; a kilt was better than nothing and all that; however, they did not focus on armor, it seemed. Tarphus was a lot happier than when he had previously fought these bastards. He needed to prevent them from achieving what the orcs in the universe of "Terra" became.

The resupply of ammunition and supplies were dumped out of a golden portal in mid-air onto the ground behind their formation. Tarphus had Ari grab the flamer and Guile pass out the resupplies of ammunition.

Tarphus almost had a goblin kneecap him, but Gubo managed to take it down with some well-aimed shots. Tarphus was grateful for this but kept himself to the bloody task of destroying the foul creatures and keeping his squad alive.

When they got every last bit of equipment, they moved to the core of this nest. When Tarphus opened the door, he was greeted with five two-meter-tall goblins with light green skin. Their faces are more akin to the orcs of the other universe.

Tarphus saw that more than half of these creatures were still buried in a pulsating mass of fungal tissue. Goblins came from the mass of flesh, like maggots, weakly crawling for a few seconds and then, in a whirlwind of activity, become ferocious against the soldiers.

The flamer was moved to the front to burn these creatures before they could fully develop. The Fungus went up in flames like a stack of dried hay. Tarphus would be lying if he said that he found the squealing soothing.

However, Tarphus will admit it was a lot better than the screams from the challenges, and he hoped that he would not get nightmares over these things. Although Tarphus oversaw the burning of the mounds of flesh with rage in his heart, the Tech-Priest did work alongside Ari to cleanse everything.

The room was cleansed and allowed Tarphus to look into the last room of this nest. What awaited him was sickening; twelve pale and thin humanoid forms were there in the dark. Tarphus balked at the nauseating stench that hit him like a tsunami.

Tarphus frowned at the slaves; he then got closer to them and noticed the children in there. Kit was then tasked with identifying which they could save and those they could not. The Fungus infected the children; it slowly and painfully transformed them into a seedbed for the Fungus.

The rest could be saved, so Tarphus had his squad take the saveable people out of the horrible area. Tarphus then knelt next to the children. There were five; only one was strong enough to speak.

Tarphus wished he could not understand what he said. "Sir. Sir, I don't want to die." Tarphus sat there, unable to save the children as they died slowly around him. Then, finally, he witnessed the speaker cry out in pain.

Tarphus then told them he could not keep them alive, but he could make their deaths as quick and painless as possible. In minutes the children agreed one by one; those minutes felt like years to him as he watched them wince and whimper in pain.

The speaker nodded but cursed him with a wish. "Please, sir, warn the village of an oncoming attack." Tarphus blinked; he was expecting the child to bring him outside one last time but nodded.

"What else can I learn to warn the other villages?" Tarphus asked. The child with tears in his eyes replied. "The others know everything we do." Tarphus nodded and swiftly took out his auto pistol and unloaded it into the children.

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Tears trailed down his face as he looked into each of their faces before doing so. Yes, that would add to his nightmares, especially how they cried; it was soft and pitiful. However, Tarphus felt that they deserved no less.

After he killed them, Tarphus left. He had his squad rig the entire nest with explosives and made sure to sweep over the whole area with the flamer to ensure that the bastards would not return.

After two days of this, the Tech-Priest nodded to him, signaling that there were no more spores. This caused Tarphus to sigh in relief. His task was to return the captured people to the Guild, thankfully completing the goblin elimination missions.

Tarphus had everyone go onto the wagons, though he would need another soon. Then, hopefully, he could get his hands on one of the horseless wagons he saw in the Federation's lands. That would be amazing Tarphus would love to ride in one of them.

Tarphus was sorrowful over the entire event; however, he now had a mission to get the villagers to the Guild to warn Werthine of the oncoming danger. Although he winced as he shifted his weight, the medical kit was a good choice as the equipment had painkillers.

Tarphus patted his side and smiled grimly as a notification lit up in front of him.

Congratulations User! The destruction of the Icon of Gork and Mork, as well as the utter annihilation of the great enemy, has given you two Upgrades! *Note tier two upgrades are locked until you complete the challenge. *

Available Upgrades:

Heavy Weapons Team: whenever the User summons a heavy weapon, a unit of guardsmen will be summoned to operate the gun. This does not apply to vehicles.

Calming Presence: Those under the User's command will be calmer and fight more effectively while in the User's presence. They can perform orders without being told. (If this is chosen, then Schola Practice will be locked)

Schola Practice: All troops under your command will perform calmly and professionally in any situation. (If this is chosen, then Calming Presence will be locked)

Tarphus could use all of these but wanted to be practical, and right now, he could not choose the Calming Presence as it would only give his troops the benefit if he was there. It would not be a problem now, however, if he gains more soldiers in the future…

Even with the weapons team coming up, that would be a recipe for disaster if he was not everywhere at once. So Tarphus nodded and picked the Heavy Weapons Team and the Schola Practice; he needed his soldiers to be as capable as possible so that everyone would survive.

He then nodded as the Status became locked for two days. However, it was okay as his squad would be able to hold out until then.

…

One week after Tarphus left Cullivan, news of his "suicide" spread out to all. Lord Herbert Cullivan held a funeral to which no noble was invited. There in his town, he publicly cremated the corpse so that no one would question Herbert on the corpse disposal.

The only questions were:

Why could he not wait for the other nobles to arrive so that they may 'Help' him with the grief?

Why did his son commit suicide?

Why did you not excommunicate your worthless son if he only had a one-star path?

Their questions were answered calmly and dismissively.

The first one he dismissed saying. "My people are industrious; they want things to be resolved swiftly and efficiently, there is no time to mourn over someone who died stupidly."

The second Herbert shrugged seemingly uncaringly.

The third Lord Cullivan just remarked. "He is family."

The nobles could not find fault with the logic behind the Lord; however, he now had no heirs, so this profitable piece of land would be up for grabs if he died. Unfortunately, he was favored because he supplied the Kingdom's military food and medicine at low cost and high quantity.

That meant the nobles could only grumble and wish for him to die so that they could gain Lord Cullivan's lands. However, Lord Cullivan helped out other nobles and noble families that served because of their shared viewpoints.

…

In another lord's estate, Dimitir was studying his newfound powers to come up with a way to aid his next adventuring party. He had gained incredible durability and strength; most importantly, he could still grow into a bulwark which would increase his star count.

Dimitir wanted so badly to become a Bulwark to help keep his friends alive; however, it did nothing to dull the pain. This was a significant drawback to being a tank class. However, the fact that he was super strong did nothing to dampen that instinctual fear of pain.

While he was contemplating the things he could do, he heard a knock on his door. It was intense and rapid. Dimitir grew angry at the interruption; he told the servants to not disturb him. Then a thought struck him, his father was hosting another noble. Maybe that noble was trying to "sample" the servants.

Dimitir quickly got up from the chair and walked to the door. His eyes narrowed as he grabbed the door, eyes filled with rage as he thought about a brat abusing his power. Like the bastard Cristopher, the name filled him with such hatred.

Standing on the other side of the door was a servant that served his family for years. "Octavia. Why do you interrupt my studies? The academy's entrance exam is complicated, and I need all the studies that I can."

Mere formalities that he had to speak otherwise; the other nobles might look down on his house. Oh, how he wished he could be like Tarphus. As a knight's son, he was able to get away with such things as he was "out in the boonies." But Dimitir would never be so free.

Octavia looked down solemnly, speaking, "Forgiveness master, our messenger got us news from Cullivan." He smiled at her. His thoughts whirled. Was this a code? He needed more. "Oh, huh? Am I allowed to study with Tarphus? Such wondrous news!"

Her sorrowful look turned even grimmer. Dimitir's eyes narrowed at her expression; it seemed that the brat was not the problem. "It is in regards to the young master of Cullivan-" Dimitir interrupts, so it was something to do with Tarphus. "What don't tell me that he broke his hand sparring his father…."

He smiled fondly as he added, "Again." It was just like him to push himself. Dimitir really needed to get him a girlfriend. Maybe that maid could help him with the matching. She was always around him, so it would only be natural for her to know his taste.

Tears fell down Octavia's face. "I'm sorry, Lord, but that is not what… Please just read this." She handed Dimitir the letter and quickly left. Dimitir knew something was wrong with that reaction; he looked down at the letter and felt dread as many things could have been written in there.

Sweat started rolling down Dimitri's brow; he started thinking of horrible events that could concern his friend. Then, finally, he whispers, "He eyed Christepher with rage in his eyes… don't tell me he tried to kill the punk without me.

No, he would not do such a thing. Tarphus is wise; he was trying to cut the rat from his friends and ruin the rat's father's schemes." Dimitir frowned as he paced the room, going over progressively worse scenarios.

Not once did he think of suicide. His friend had so much to live for. Instead, Dimitir saw how driven his friend was to avenge his old flame. By the hells, Tarphus had so many people who helped him out over the years, Dimitir made sure that Tarphus had a good solid group of friends.

He finally stopped pacing around his room, note in hand. He opened it up, hands shaking in anticipation. Dimitir slowly pried open the letter, his stomach turning in knots as he felt unsure that he wanted to read this.

He was half expecting a flash spell to go off and him getting tackled by Tarphus just as he had done to Tarphus so long ago. But, instead, he retrieved the writing; it was flowery, so Dimitir skipped to the middle and read…

"I regret to inform you that my son Tarphus Cullivan killed himself."

…

The two dryads were led by an old man, the youngest found out that his name was Udera. They told him that Lord Cullivan gave them sanctuary in the woods if they helped heal it. Udera nodded with a solemn smile and left towards the forest.

When they entered the forest, the two dryads immediately felt… welcome, like they were missing something, and suddenly it was returned to them. The younger one broke out into a bright smile, tears of joy raining down onto the forest floor. "Magic! This forest is truly enchanted; we now have a home!"

Her joy caused the older one to smile, but there was something behind that smile. Wariness, something about the magic in the air… There was bloodlust and a hint of madness that she was worried about.

The oldest turned towards her sister, "Find a place on the outskirts for us to live in; for now. I will find you later." Her sister nods at her, smiling at the prospect of helping her older sister. The older one turned towards Urdera.

"Take me to the problem." The human bowed quickly and started walking into the forest without taking a second to glance back to make sure that she was following. Then, she went after the old human with questions and rage weighing on her heart with a sigh.

…

Tarphus grimaced as the stitches were removed; it did not hurt. Still, it was uncomfortable, especially with how much it itched. Guile constantly checked if any stitches were accidentally removing them, though it was a definite temptation to Tarphus.

However, he endured, he needed to be better than his temptations to set a good example. His weapons team was next to his Tech-Priest; they seemed to be talking about adequately handling the equipment.

Tarphus also found that while the Schola Practice allowed his squad to be calm under pressure, it did nothing to their personality. However, he was grateful for it as his team was fun to be around, and they had such a lust for life that he could appreciate.

When he entered the town, several heavily armored knights approached him. "Tarphus Lorne?" a nasally tone came out of the helm of the foremost figure. Tarphus's eyes narrowed. "Why are you asking?"

The Knight replied, "The Guild Master wants an audience with you."