Liu Jiaollong was parched, he had been wandering through the woods aimlessly for the past few minutes. He could feel himself get closer and closer to a water source, the sound of a babbling brook was music to his ears as he stumbled forward faster and faster. He hobbled forward like a penguin before coming out of the forest into a clearing.

The clearing was bathed in sunlight, there were no trees to filter in the golden rays of the sun through the canopy. The air was filled with the sweet fragrance of wildflowers, and a gentle breeze carried petals through the air, the soft wind ruffling his robes. Not one to tary, Liu immediately launched himself at the brook, drinking from it’s clear waters, almost as if he was actually inhaling the water

After taking in his final gulp, he sank to the ground, feeling the soft moss cushion his weary body. As he closed his eyes and listened to the whispering wind, he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of wonder for the chance to escape death and be reborn. A wry smile appeared on his face, all those old stories about Buddhism and reincarnation turned out to be true after all.

He took in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of wildflowers. He looked down at the babbling brook and saw small tadpoles darting through the waters. Small colourful fish with iridescent scales shimmered in the afternoon sun as they moved their way down the brook. He continued staring for a while, deciding to take it easy as the soft breeze caused his robes to flutter, carrying his scent down stream.

*** ***

The goblins were creeping up, their nose catching the scent of the Struggler. Like a pack of locusts, they moved their way silently through the deep green of the forest. Their greenskin allowed them to blend in perfectly with the low level brush. Instinctively, the small critters of the woods had avoided their advance, leaving the forest to be eerily quiet. It was as if the forest itself held its breath, wanting to see the carnage that was about to unfold.

The birds did not sing, the squirrels did not dart in their trees, nothing moved, except for the goblin crew, numbering a dozen strong. Like a green bolt of lightning they raced forward, the Struggler would die today.

The goblin chief was practically drooling as he led his goblins on the warpath. He could taste it, the metallic blood dripping from the Strugglers heart, sliding down his throat. The meaty and tough texture of the heart giving way under his fangs. It gave shivers down his spine as he licked his lips, saliva dripping from his mouth as he saw the Struggler from beyond the brush.

He raised a hand to halt his men, goblins were typically unruly creatures that needed to be ruled by fear. Many of them bore the scars of discipline at the hands of the goblin chief, and they dared not disobey, despite the bloodlust and desire for glory churning in their mind. They stood still, waiting with bated breath as the chieftain went to survey the situation.

He peered through a gap in the brush, narrowing his eyes as he tried to gauge whether or not the Struggler would take a lot of work to kill, or would this be a stroll through a garden. The Struggler had a weird ochre skin tone, not something like he had ever seen before on a human. Black pupils and black eyebrows, with a shaved head. He had weird orange robes and no noticeable weapons to be seen. It would be an easy fight, he decided. All he had to do was wait for an opportunity to come.

And that quickly presented itself, the Struggler turned away from the chieftain. He could see his back, that neck looked so juicy, so…easy to rip into. He drew his iron short sword, ready to charge out and take his prize.

*** ***

Liu Jiaolong was deep in thought, trying to take stock of the situation and figure out where he was. His mind was still full of questions about his new found power. As his memory began to return to him, he was aware that the power was called Qi. And that this power was something that existed in fiction books. So, in this new world, it has become reality. It was safe to assume that magic and other sort of wild fantastical beasts from folklore had to be true as well.

He had to get to civilization. His survival skills weren’t exactly the best, and he was certainly missing key bits of information when it came to living out in the boonies. He had to get into a peasant village somehow and find a job, or at least figure out what to do. He paced back and forth, turning upstream, towards where the mouth of the brook surely flowed.

If he made his way along the river, most likely downstream, he was sure to come across fishing villages or trading villages of some kind. Or at least, at the mouth of the river. He would be able to come across a large port city of some manner. As he continued to plan out his new strategy, he felt a sensation.

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It was something he couldn’t quite describe, or put specifically into words. He just suddenly felt a sense of discomfort, as if something was about to attack or some unfortunate event was going to occur. And just like that, it did. A rustling of bushes and a loud cry suddenly roared from the brush behind him.

“KILL THE STRUGGLER!”

He whipped around, his body instinctively moving in a way that he did not know he possessed. He immediately put up a fighting stance, weight heavy on the lead leg and his right fist in front of him at chin level and his left fist behind on the side of his jaw. Just in time, he saw a green looking humanoid creature. One that looked quite hideous and smelt of rotting flesh. It had yellow eyes and sharp canines, standing at no taller than 4 feet. It held a wooden club and it had many compatriots just like it rushing behind. Though one stood slightly taller than most, with a short sword in his hand.

He didn’t even have time to process the fact that he could understand the language these creatures were speaking. It was clearly not the language of where he came from, or matched the sound of the thoughts running through his mind. But nevertheless, he understood. As the creature closed in on him, his body reacted on it’s own, firing off his lead leg into a vicious side kick.

He felt his weight suddenly shift onto his rear foot, his lead leg rising up of his own volition. The sensation of his right leg being brought up to his chest in a flash, his hip rotating to the left as he blasted off the kick. The power resonating up through his foot, up his leg, through the hips and out from the end of his right heel slammed into the face of the charging goblin.

A sickening crunch was heard as the creature's nose shattered. The timing was perfect. Right as the goblin got into the distance necessary for the technique’s execution, its weight was forward, rushing ahead with forward momentum. The goblin’s face slammed right into the powerful sidekick. It had been mid swing with the club too, the attack being interrupted with the powerful thrust from Liu.

The goblin fell backwards, a couple of metres away from the hard strike. It was either unconscious or dead, blood pouring out from the crushed nose as it laid motionlessly on the grass. But Liu had no time to contemplate how he was able to move so quickly, the other creatures were pressing the attack, he had no time to tarry.

He fluidly transitioned into his next technique, thrusting his right foot down onto the ground. A club strike swung haphazardly from his left caused him to pivot on his lead foot, rapidly moving away from the strike and leaving the creature off balance. He shot off a backhand, a whipping shot from below that slammed the rear of his hand into the creature's throat. The sickening squelch rang through the clearing as Adam's apple popped. It fell down, grabbing its throat as it wheezed violently, trying to breathe but to no avail. The crushed windpipe failed to intake any fresh air as it frantically tried to exhale and inhale.

His fist quickly returned back to his chin, protecting his face at all times. Two down, ten more to go. His heart was racing as he steeled himself from the oncoming onslaught that he was about the face.

*** ***

The goblin chieftain had halted his charge the moment he saw his first minion get easily dispatched with a single strike. Unlike his minions, he had some common sense. This Struggler didn’t look so weak after all. Despite his lack of weapons, he could kick and punch as fast as lightning itself. His movements were so fluid and so powerful, it almost sounded like a whip was being cracked everytime his strikes landed on his minions.

After his second minion had his throat crushed, the Struggler had managed to somehow move fluidly, dodging and avoiding every single strike that came his way. He was able to flow with his movements, like how a river is split but then joins again when an obstacle emerges from it’s path.

His body was constantly moving, like a well oiled machine of some kind. He would slip a club swing there, counter with a stiff palm to the chin which knocked down another goblin. Suddenly intercepting a strike with his bare hand before grabbing the wrist and tossing them over the shoulder, slamming them head first into the ground. Another goblin was suddenly kicked in the jaw, the leg lifting off the ground with a burst of speed and sending the goblin careening into the brook with a loud splash.

It was clear that he had underestimated his foe. He had to fix the situation and fast, barking out a single order that he was sure his minions would comply.

“STOP!”

His minions immediately stopped attacking and retreated backwards, forming a circle around the Struggler, but out of reach of their clubs and the spearlike kicks of their opponent. They feared the sting of the Chieftain's blade to the point where it overrode their basic instincts, to pursue and kill their opponent no matter what. And thus, they complied.

There was no point having them participate in the fight with the Struggler anyway, they were clearly too weak to even hold a candle to him. They were dead weight anyway, and even if he tried to overwhelm the Struggler with numbers, whether he succeeded or not. There was a great likelihood most of his minions would be too damaged beyond repair to even continue serving him. Despite the great benefit he could have from consuming the Strugglers heart, it was not worth losing his entire retinue in a single fight.

The Goblin Chieftain chewed on his lip, deciding that a new strategy had to be tried to win Pandar’s favour. A duel, one that would not cause his entire squad to be wiped out, but a one on one battle. With Pandar serving as witness, the god would certainly bless him in this honest and true test of martial prowess. It was the perfect plan.

As the Chieftain was busy thinking and as the other goblins had backed off. The Struggler had for some odd reason, decided not to press the attack, despite having the advantage. The Goblin Chieftain had expected that he would continue pushing on the offensive, considering the clear skill gap from himself and the numerous goblins surrounding him. But in the end, it didn’t matter. This lull in the conflict had given the Chieftain enough time to think of a viable strategy. The Chieftain would not question his good fortune, his enemies mistake would be their downfall.

The Chief stepped forward, holding out his iron sword as he looked the Struggler in the eye, yellow pupils meeting black ones. The tip of the blade pointing at the breast of the human. Oh, he couldn’t wait to tear into their heart and drink their blood. His lips curled into a vicious snarl as he barked out the words in his crude greenskin tongue, eager to feast.

“I CHALLENGE YOU TO A DUEL. STAND AND FIGHT, WITH PANDAR AS MY WITNESS!”