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The Warmonger
Chapter 4- The Hunt

Chapter 4- The Hunt

The day arrived, yet started just as any other day. The recruits were shouted awake, rushed to equip themselves, and marched out to do a few laps of the field. As they ate breakfast, Captain Meldin stood at the head of the room.

“Good morning Recruits. Today is the day you truly use the System. So far, you’ve only used it to see how your training has progressed. After today, you will have used it to become directly stronger. This will also be the first time since training began that you’ll truly be left unsupervised. There are two objectives for you today. One, use your skills that you’ve been taught to survive. Two, actively use the System.

A few of you seem to have noticed my wording there. Survive. There are monsters out in those woods that you will not be able to defeat. Your job as a soldier is to know the difference between what you can beat and what you can't.

To motivate you, we have organized a contest. We have assigned each monster out there a certain number. For example, a Goblin would be worth one point. Kill three, you have three points. Don't worry about bringing back evidence. Just before you leave we’ll place a spell on you that will record all your kills for the next twenty four hours. There are only two rules. One, be back by morning roll call tomorrow. Two, avoid this area.” He motioned towards a large map displaying the area around the city. The specific area he pointed at was a small mountain roughly two dozen miles away.

“This area is known as a ‘Red Zone’. It means that its dangerous. A monster has made the area its home, and its very territorial.”

“Sir, what type of monster is it?” Asked one of the Recruits. They had long ago finished eating.

“An Orc Lord. They are highly intelligent. Extremely Cruel. And they find humans to be particularly tasty. Luckily, they seem content with ignoring this city. Don't approach this area and you should be fine, well, safe from Orcs.”

“Sir, what is the reward for the contest?” Asked a different Recruit.

“Third Place receives a five gold bonus upon completion of training. Second place, ten gold and their choice of a brand new weapon. First place, twenty gold and their choice of what branch they want to join. Now, you’ve all finished eating. Sunlight is burning, go! Remember that the more monsters you kill, the stronger you’ll become!”

*****

It was a few hours after they had been dismissed that George finally managed to leave behind the other Recruits. He didn’t dislike them, or distrust them, he simply thought that staying in a group would limit what he could find, and therefore limit his strength.

He had his sword, shield, and leather armor. He had left behind anything else that could slow him down.

The first three hours, George had only found Horned Rabbits. They technically counted as monsters, but only just. George had quickly slaughtered them. Unfortunately for the rabbits, they were fragile and George wasn't bothering to control his strength. He left behind large pools of blood and fleshy messes that might be considered a corpse. George didn't even consider them as a true enemy and so didn't bother checking his System.

The deeper George went into the forest, the stronger the monsters became. He even started to encounter Goblins. He waged a short little war against a Goblin clan. From his brief training, he knew he needed to gather information before attacking whenever possible. So, before he attacked, he hid in a tree and studied the Goblin Village.

Two hours passed and George believed he had all the information he needed. The buildings were made of sticks and mud, easily broken. They were built close together but randomly. The Goblins were divided by class. There were the hunters, small but fast, in groups of six that regularly returned to return their hunt. He could see five groups of hunters. There were the Gatherers, who doubled as crafters, an average goblin. George saw roughly sixty Gatherers. Mentors, who watched over and taught the younger children, twenty mentors and eighty children. Then there were the warriors, large and strong, but few. Only ten. Finally, the chieftain. It appeared to be the only one capable of magic.

George hypothesized that the warriors and chieftain would grant the most XP. He would make sure he killed all of them. It was a toss up whether the hunters or gatherers would have more XP, but George guessed it was the hunters as they killed other creatures. The Mentors and children would be the lowest priority. They would give the least XP, but if he had the opportunity, George would reap their XP.

As George finished his thinking, he gained a notice from the System.

Info: Goblins

You have noticed their culture and society.

Continue to observe to learn more.

+0.01 Understanding of Greenskin

+10% damage against Goblins

‘Interesting. Does that mean that if I continued to watch and hear them, I could eventually learn to speak and understand them? Something to think about, but increased damage? That means I can kill them faster? Only one way to see.’

George dropped from the branch, not bothering to conceal himself. He was still fairly far from the Goblins, yet the moment his feet touched the ground they knew he was there. The warriors started to move towards him while the others ran away and into the buildings. George didn't let the closer ones.

He dashed forward and swung his sword. It was easy to kill something with their backs turned. George managed to cut down four gatherers, two hunters, three mentors, and twelve children before the first warrior reached him.

The warrior swung its stone hatchet down, George twisted his torso, narrowly dodging the crude weapon and brought his weapon up. The Goblin’s own momentum cut off its own arm. The weight of the hatchet and the force behind it sunk it into the ground, with the wrist still attached. Before the warrior could even register the pain, George had already thrust his blade through its heart.

It was a minor difference, but George knew from butchering deer that bones aren't supposed to be that easy to cut. His small bonus was playing a part.

The other Warriors quickly surrounded George. George saw that they were simply trying to delay him for the chief to cast its magic. They attacked all at once. George sidestepped the first swipe. He moved to stab the Goblin, but another one stepped in to block. This repeated itself numerous times. They couldn't catch George, but every attack George made was blocked by another. They clearly fought together regularly.

This infuriated George. It wasn't their ability to protect each other, that annoyed him. It was his inability to break through. In his anger, he started attacking harder and faster. He was paying less attention in his movements and his defence. One of the Warrior’s crude spears cut into George’s neck. Shallow enough to be a flesh wound, but deep enough to leave a scar. He jumped aside from the attack and ridiculed himself for losing his composure.

In the split second that it took for the Warriors to follow after him, George resolved himself. The battle resumed. Well behind the Warriors, stood the Chieftain. It stood there, gathering all the surrounding mana into a single Mana Arrow. Normally, the cast time was quick, but the Chieftain was altering the spell to increase its power. It wanted to put the monster that had killed some of the children of its home into the ground.

This bout of combat was different. It was no longer a stalemate. The Warriors were slowly being pushed back. George was hitting harder, dodging more fluidly, and moving faster. Not anything amazing, but it was there. Possibly only five, maybe seven percent difference. With this difference, it was a question what would give up first, George’s stamina, or the Warriors’ skill.

By a stroke of luck, or bad luck depending on how you look at it, one of the Warriors slipped in the blood of its brother. In the fraction of a second that it didn't have a stable footing, George got behind it and slashed its achilles’ heels. It fell to the ground screaming. It was only a matter of time after that. One by one, the rest fell.

The Chieftain saw his last Warrior fall to the mud with its own sword in its gut. He rushed to complete the cast. George sprinted toward it, in hopes that he could kill it before it released its spell. The Chieftain panicked and in its fear, it released its Arrow prematurely. The Arrow itself was fine, but it was the aim. George simply twisted his upper body and continued towards the Chieftain. Exhausted from using its entire mana pool, it could only look up at George as he brought his weapon down on its skull.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The body slammed into the ground. George grunted as he removed the blade from the skull. Behind him, a hut exploded in flames. The stray Mana Arrow had hit the hut and slowly caught the hay aflame. The goblins in hiding ran around like ants. George looked over his shoulder at them and grinned. He wouldn't have to hunt them down.

*****

Two hours later, George walked away from the inferno of the Goblin village with a pep in his step. He had hunted them all down. It was only at this time that he checked his System.

Status Sheet

Name: George Helvain

Gender: Male

Level: 8

EXP: 1046/2565

Attribute Points: 20

Strength: 16

Constitution: 17

Dexterity: 16

Wisdom: 14

Intelligence: 10

Charisma: 5

Abilities: Tireless

Spells: N/A

That battle had pushed his limits in speed and in return, he had earned three natural points in Dex and one in Str and Con. He also noticed that he had leveled up four times and now had twenty AP. Five AP per level. And after an insufferably long time, George also calculated how the EXP increased per level. He only knew how to do calculations because his father had taught him, but he had never cared for it. The Exp of the current Level was divided in half and then added on top of the original to calculate the EXP for the next level.

As George walked deeper into the forest to hunt more monsters, he thought about how to distribute his AP. The sun was setting and George encountered a boar and two horned Rabbits as he finalized his distribution. He was cooking one of the Rabbits over a small fire as he completed the AP distribution.

Status Sheet

Name: George Helvain

Gender: Male

Level: 8

EXP: 1046/2565

Attribute Points:

Strength: 21

Constitution: 22

Dexterity: 20

Wisdom: 20

Intelligence: 10

Charisma: 5

Abilities: Tireless

Spells: N/A

Happy with the way he used the AP, he started his meal. It was disgusting. George had absolutely no idea how to cook. He had hunted, but his father had done all the cooking. The only thing George knew about cooking was that the meat tasted better if it had been bled before cooking. He hadn't even done that as he was hungry and this was an impromptu meal. As disgusting as it was, George was starving, so he forced himself to eat it. Apparently, slaughtering Goblin children was a hungry business.

George finished his meal and stood up to stretch. Mid-stretch, he heard a twig snap. Dropping into a roll, he grabbed his sword from beside the fire, drew it, and faced the potential threat. Before George could even see the threat, his sword was swiped away from his hand like a toy and he was kicked away. The kick threw George away like a ragdoll. He slammed into a tree, and dropped to the floor, unconscious.

*****

George woke up with a pounding headache, a back that felt like it was on fire, and a chest that felt like it had been trampled by a horse. Despite all the pain, he only allowed himself a moment to get accustomed to the pain before he surveyed his situation. He had been stripped to his military issued underwear. The only thing he had was his boxers and his father’s necklace. His hands and feet were tied together and despite his increased Strength stat, he knew was nowhere near strong enough to break free.

He saw light coming from behind him, but he couldn't turn around and it looked like it was just a wall torch or something similarly stationary. The room he could see looked like a cave. From what little he knew about Orcs, he could guess he was in an Orc Cell. The design was similar, and they were the only monsters around the area that would take prisoners this way.

With nothing else he could do, he mediated. It was even more of an issue due to his position, but he didn't have anywhere to be. Seeing the necklace had brought it back to mind, so it became the subject of his meditation. He practically relived the memories surrounding the necklace.

He remembered that he and his mother had commissioned the village’s blacksmith, and a passing wizard to make it. The Blacksmith had created the locket. The wizard had used some kind of magic to print the images of the three of them onto the panels of the locket. His mother’s picture was on the left, his father’s was in the middle, and he was on the right. He and his mother had gifted it to his father as a birthday present.

In his memories, he had just presented it to his father when it was disrupted by a scraping noise. George was snapped back into reality and struggled again to roll around, but still couldn’t. A large hand undid something on his hands while another completely undid his feet. He was then picked up to his feet.

He was surrounded by four Orcs. George could probably take out one; two if he had a sword. Unfortunately, he was unarmed and out numbered. One of them shoved him from behind, just enough for him to take a step. Two of them left the small cell while the other two stayed behind him. Seeing little choice, he followed after the first two.

After a few dozen turns, they finally reached an arena. Inside were eleven other recruits, similarly dressed. His escorting Orcs left the arena and locked the door behind them. Looking around, George saw nearly a thousand Orcs looking down at the arena and cheering. To George, it looked like they were in the middle of an inactive volcano. The other recruits were looking around fearfully, unsure what to do.

George located a ‘throne’ where a large muscular Orc sat. It simply raised its hand and the hundreds of Orcs quieted almost immediately. It started to speak in its own rough language. It was riling the Orcs up. After only five minutes, the Orcs had bloodshot eyes. They wanted to see blood. The Orc King, though George was guessing its title, waved forward an old hunched over Orc. The Orc King started to speak again, but this time, the old Orc started to speak the Common Tongue.

“Welcome to the Pit. We have caught you trespassing on our lands. As punishment, you are sentenced to fight to the death against the other trespassers. Only one is to survive. Only one is given the right to fight for their freedom. The others, will serve as dinner. Entertain us.”

None of the recruits moved.

“Either fight for a chance at survival, or recieve a guaranteed death.” The old Orc spoke again.

Two recruits didn't hesitate this time. They charged at the nearest to them. The first fist impacted, and it set off the rest of the recruits. George didn't move. He simply maintained eye contact with the Orc King. Even when one of the recruits charged at him, he didn't break eye contact. George simply spun the recruit around, put him in a headlock, where he was leaning back. A quick twist was all it took to break the neck and kill him. The body dropped and the Orc King narrowed its eyes.

The brawl continued around George, but he was passive. He only fought those that attacked him. The battle lasted twenty minutes. Only two stood at the end. George and a young woman whose name was Catherine. She was covered in blood splatter, was breathing hard, and was favoring one side. Her bra had been ripped off during the brawl by a young man by the name of Ethan.

Despite the fact that he was trying to kill her, when he’d accidentally ripped it off during an exchange, his face had turned bright red and he instinctively turned to cover his eyes. Catherine, while similarly embarrassed, took the advantage. She pinned him to the ground while his back was turned and smashed his face into the rocky ground until he stopped moving.

George simply took the appearance in stride, and only noted it due to his training. Catherine had seen George fight during training. He wasn't anything miraculous, only slightly above average, but he had no hesitation, and in her state she had no chance. They simply stared at each other.

“Finish her and near freedom.” Commanded the old Orc.

“She hasn’t attacked me. She is still my comrade.” George simply stated.

“Do it George,” She huffed. “Kill me and take my XP. If you don't, they are just going to kill us both. Better one of us makes it than neither, and whatever the final test is, I’m too injured to continue.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. But if I may ask you two requests?” She groaned as she stood straight

“Go ahead.” George nodded as he moved closer.

“First, make it quick and painless. Second, could you find my younger sister back in town and tell her I died valiantly?”

“Yes.” George said emotionlessly.

“Thank you.”

George reached Catherine, “Close your eyes.” He commanded. She did. Without ceremony or hesitation, George grabbed the back of her head and slammed it face first into the stone wall of the arena. The skull caved in, blood and brain matter splattered everywhere, painting the wall, covering George here and there, and completely covering his hand. The body dropped and George simply stared up at the Orc King.

“Congratulations on emerging victorious. We will allow you to rest for an hour or two while we clean up and prepare for the final match!” The Orcs roared their cheers. “We will match you against our bravest warrior. Should you be victorious, you will earn your freedom.” The old Orc finished and waved forward numerous Orcs. Four escorted George out of the arena while the rest dragged the corpses away.

The Orcs pushed George into the cell and left to join the feast. George simply sat down and started to meditate. Just before he could fully sink into it, he heard a coughing noise. George looked up and saw a man in a three piece suit. The man had auburn hair, a pitch white faceless mask, black gloves and perfectly clean dress shoes. He was bowed from the waist, had his right hand placed over his heart and the other behind his back.

“Apologies for interrupting you sir, but I’ve come to offer you a deal.”