Chapter 2: Four ¿Goblins?
—————————————————————————
…I shouldn’t be shouldering all the blame by myself, they had all agreed with my decision. They also called him their brother and friend. How could any of us have known that the wisp of a man he was at the time would become our extinction? How could we have known that the bastard harbored such a twisted sense of revenge? …
—————————————————————————
The wall of debris exploded, sending dangerously pointed pieces of rocks spraying everywhere, including their bodies. The impact sent them flying to the ground, bleeding and bruised, but it was not the first time they had experienced something like that. They scrambled to their feet and retreated to one of the branching tunnels they had just passed by, not daring to even turn their heads to see the ongoing battle.
They successfully turned around the corner and stuck their backs to the wall instead of keeping running. The tunnel they were in had no exit and if the battlers decided to take their carnage that way they would be trapped with no way out. It was wiser to wait for them to kill each other, or continue their fight the other way. They should have their minds busy enough with fighting for their lives to notice them crouching in the dark tunnels, at least they hoped so.
For a few moments the battle stopped, with no sound coming from the tunnels. There was an eerie stillness that could perfectly be called the calm before the storm. The sound of fighting in the distance could still be heard, but they had all their focus on any sound coming from the nearby tunnel, which stayed in silence for at least a minute.
The four could not resist the temptation to see if the battlers had killed each other and peeked from the corner. The sight made their blood run cold.
The brutish Gurgh and Geth stood wielding a pair of huge axes each, their bodies a tangle of small wounds and dripping purplish blood. But they had seen bloodied hobgoblins before, that sight did not surprise them that much.
Facing the pair was not another group of hobgoblins, or even an orc, which they thought was the most probable thing.
A tall man covered in even more blood than the pair of hobgoblins stared at them with a grim smile, pointing at them with his bloodied sword. The blood covering him was a mix of the human red blood—probably his—and the thick purple blood of goblins.
The way the man breathed, glared and moved evoked a feeling of savagery that not even the ogre that massacred over three hundred of the initial group of survivors had. As if he were a primal beast born only for carnage and bloodshed. The glimmer of hope that appeared when they saw a new human after so much time disappeared just as quickly as it came. They doubted that such a madman was there to rescue them, a bunch of commoners.
Kancil lifted his left arm, numb with pain as it was, and pointed the dirty bracelet he had at the battlers.
【Level 19】
【Level 18】
【Level 24】
Unless one of the two hobgoblins was a dwarf orc in disguise, then the man battling them had the clear advantage over them in terms of level, even if they were two. But as fierce as the man was, he was already breathing with difficulty, unlike the two demons, who were accustomed to daily battle for territory against other hobgoblins and similar creatures. If the man could not finish the fight soon, he might end up losing.
They stopped peeking as the battlers began to move around to begin the next round. Now they could only wait to see what would the Aeternum’s judgment be.
——————————
Hobgoblin | Combatant | Danger: 5
【Level 18】
Hobgoblin | Combatant | Danger: 5
【Level 19】
Attalus looked a last time at his bracelet and breathed deeply. Bloody hell. He clenched his teeth under his smile and threw himself against the hobgoblins again.
How was it possible that he had been engaged in a tight battle with a bunch of goblins for an entire hour. It was like reliving his days of apprenticeship once again, but in an annoying way. Had there not been so many goblins to weaken him while he distracted the hobgoblins and defended the recruits, he would have beheaded the disgusting pair a long time ago.
Instead, he was so tired that the hobgoblins were already at a danger level where each one was considered his equal. And all he could do was struggle to keep his life while he waited for the recruits to finish the remaining goblins and come help him, hoping that they had not turned their tails and left him alone after he saved them.
It did not help either that the two hobgoblins had almost the same strength as a weak orc, even without evolving. How bad could be his luck to encounter a pair of mutated hobgoblins when having to keep alive the snobby recruits. Alone. He should not have divided the groups like he did so. Overconfidence was indeed a poison for a leader.
He swung at the chubbier hobgoblin’s head while trying to push away the self-reproaching thoughts.
The demon blocked his sword with one of its axes and whipped the other at his stomach.
Attalus deflected the attack and leaped to one side, also evading the leaner hobgoblin’s attack. Thankfully they lacked agility and skill just as their strength was exceptional. If it weren't for that he wouldn't have been able to keep the fight at a stalemate for so long. He had already exhausted the greater part of his mana when dealing with the swarming goblins and could not throw any kind of magic thoughtlessly, lest his mind began to waver and caused his untimely death.
He also did not want to use his elder artifact to deal with two hobgoblins. Mutated and all, it would be a huge disgrace when he had to tell his father how he wasted an artifact that could stop something at the level of a Silver Knight with two demons that barely qualified as Warriors. Furthermore, the reason why he decided to form a mercenary band was to prove that he was worthy of his family’s nomen even without awakening a dream, having to use the artifact his father gave him would be a slap to his own face.
He ground his teeth and forced himself to keep his sadistic smile to intimidate the enemies, enduring the burning pressure on his chest from receiving one of the hobgoblin’s axes.
His blood began to pump quicker and the pain began to fade to the back of his mind, allowing him to feel the bliss of the battle. Pure bliss. The training at the castle could never compare to a good fight for his life. If someone asked him at that moment why he decided to create the mercenary band he would answer ‘for slaughter’ without hesitation, forget about worthiness and nomina.
The fat hobgoblin’s ax brushed his cheek while he enjoyed the feeling, adding to it. Attalus plunged at the hobgoblin, undaunted and thrusting his sword at its jiggling belly, just to be stopped by the other hobgoblin.
Five minutes later and a few more flesh wounds on both sides, the sound of fight in the tunnels behind him had stopped, and in its place sounded the splashing of feet and the clanking of armors. Finally. Attalus grinned and leaped back, avoiding an ax coming at his head.
He creased his brows and began to channel the lasts bits of his mana to his weapon arm and his sword. His arm’s muscles tightened and the sword began to sizzle, making smoke come from it as the blood covering it burned and the metal began to glow red.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
The two hobgoblins stopped their charge and studied the resilient human and his weapon. It was the same battle skill he had used to bisect half a dozen of their minions. Even the dumb pair knew when to stop the recklessness and be mindful of their lives.
Attalus let out a crazed laugh and pounced, his body riddled with openings.
The pair had to decide whether to stay away from the glowing sword or grasp the good chance to finally get rid of the annoying human. Both decided different things.
The lean hobgoblin was intimidated by Attalus’ glare and retreated under, while the fat one could muster the courage to attack, as he was not under the pressure of the pair of bloodthirsty eyes.
Attalus stopped his charge at the lean hobgoblin and with a stomp of his foot, leaped to one side, his sword slashing at the other’s body.
Realizing his blunder, the fat hobgoblin moved both his axes to parry the blow, but met the heated blade with the shafts of his weapons.
Attalus’ fire blade cut the ironwood poles like butter and continued on with the hobgoblin’s leather armor, opening his fat chest almost all the way to his back. Blood spurted and the hobgoblin gave an agonized squeal, then went silent as its body slumped on the hard, wet ground.
Attalus whipped his sword at the other hobgoblin to make it retreat more, and then he retreated himself. His weapon quickly lost its red glow and his vision grew dizzy, making him lose sight of his enemy for a moment. But for the first time, the legionnaire recruits did their job well and had arrived at time.
“Charge.” Attalus commanded, and the legionnaires ran past him with their weapons raised.
Some arrows flew by and pierced different part of the hobgoblin’s skin.
The flustered hobgoblin turned its tail to run—it knew it had no chance against such a big group of humans—but it did not reach too far.
Bellamy let out a muffled grunt and threw his spear at its back, making it trip and fall to the ground.
The other legionnaires followed suit and their spears embedded themselves fatally on the hobgoblin.
Attalus watched the hobgoblin become a pincushion and let out a breath of relief. What a long day, he thought as his bloodthirsty mindset began to fade. He saw the legionnaire recruits do the same as some of them slumped to the ground, totally exhausted from the near death experience.
While relieved and fatigued, Attalus did not forget his duties and began to count the recruits, hoping that all of them had made it. Surely their clans would not have sent them to real combat training without giving them at least a minor artifact. No matter if they were third or fourth sons, there was no patrician clan that ruthless with its descendants.
It seemed that they were all there. Bellamy had performed well as the substitute captain, just as he had expected. They guy had a good brain and-
“Argh.” One of the legionnaires in front screamed, attracting all the gazes.
A few legionnaires rushed to retrieve their spears from the dead hobgoblin while the others formed a shield-wall.
A group of four dirty… goblins? Raised from the darkness clutching shabby hatchets and spears. They were certainly tall for a goblin, like a kid in his early teens, but they were too scrawny to be considered hobgoblins. More bone than meat. Maybe they were also mutated goblins about to evolve, or really scrawny and weak hobgoblins.
Not that it mattered for the tense legionnaires, who readied themselves with increased expertise.
“For the imperium.” The eight men in the shield-wall yelled and charged at the surprised goblins with forced confidence, trying to hide their fear. Even when the four hobgoblins looked like scrawny kids and were less threatening than a common hobgoblin, they decided to be ruthless, after all, even a common goblin could be deadly, let alone four hobgoblins.
The four goblins retreated slashing their weapons, trying to bring to a halt the charge without success, but the four critters were the agile kind and evaded the shield-wall’s bash.
Attalus furrowed his brows, staring fixedly at the four goblins. Something felt amiss. He could see little more than silhouettes in the dark corridor, even with his enhanced eyes, but those goblins had something strange about them.
He saw them slash at the legionnaires feet and then stab and cut four of them on the legs when they let down their guard, though they were superficial wounds.
The other shield bearers broke the formation and bashed the goblins, making one fall to the ground while the others retreated.
The fallen goblin slashed at the legionnaires feet, making some of them retreat. The other three punched and kicked and slashed to make the rest move away while the goblin on the ground began to rise to its feet.
The rising goblin stopped midway and stared down to find the point of a spear sticking out of his chest.
Bellamy, with his masterful throw, once again turned the tides to the legionnaires favor.
“Ravi!” The three goblins yelled at the same time, dashing for their friend.
Attalus eyes widened and he fixed his gaze on the goblins, looking from one to another. He raised his left arm and pointed at the goblins with his bracelet.
The legionnaires saw the opportunity and plunged at the three flustered goblin. Their shields bashed all three goblins to the ground and their swords slashed and thrust.
Human | Novice
【Level 6】
Human | Novice
【Level 5】
Human | Novice
【Level 8】
Human | Novice
【Level 6】
“HALT.” Attalus darted forward, pushing away the legionnaires surrounding the four boys.
Most legionnaires stopped, but the ones engaged against them kept kicking and slashing—a shameful display of their lack of discipline.
“Are you bloody deaf?” Attalus kicked one of the legionnaires and sent him rolling on the ground.
The others turned around in surprise, weapons ready, just to be greeted by their captain’s infuriated face.
“Out of the way.” He pushed the remaining youngsters away and looked at the boys laying on the ground. Two of them were unmoving and riddled with deep cuts and swelling bruises. The last one held his broken spear and a hatchet in his hands, glaring with a single defiant, enraged eye—a filthy piece of cloth covered the other eye.
Attalus took a step forward, but the boy moved his weapons towards him. The way he glared and held his weapons against him made him look like a wounded beast, prepared to take at least a part of his enemy with him. The boy’s eye was dull, without life, as if a corpse staring at him, yet within he could see a fierce determination to hurt his enemy, even if he lost his life.
Attalus stood wide eyed, entranced by the boy’s dreadful green eye.
“Captain.” Bellamy called out for the third time.
“Ah?” Attalus blinked repeatedly, looking around for a moment until he recognized Bellamy as the one calling him. “What is it?”
“Um- Why did you stop us?” He said, not daring to mention his captain’s absence of mind.
“Oh.” Attalus regained his mind and his brows furrowed. “Are you bastards perhaps bloody blind? Has the shit around here damaged your eyes? These are boys.” He pointed at the three kids lying in front of him, “Human boys. What you’ve just done is beyond atrocious.” He yelled.
The legionnaires frowned, looking at each other and then staring at the boys for a long while, coming to the realization of what had just happened. Focusing on enhancing their eyes, they could see better in the darkness, and it was evident that while the boys were as filthy and ragged—if not more—than all the goblins they had encountered, their features were totally different from the goblins’. Although one of the boys had a wide pointy nose and sharp chin that could be the target of comparisons, he was not even closely as ugly as a goblin.
An unnerving coldness began to spread through their bodies. It took them two months to be prepared mentally to kill demons—an enemy of humanity—but in no moment crossed their minds that they would kill humans during their training. Even less human boys younger than themselves.
All the legionnaires began to fidget and retreat from the unmoving boys, turning their gazes away.
“Pray to the gods that we can still do something to save them.” Attalus brought his arm up and pointed at the boys with his bracelet again. The three boys in front of him showed their regular status message on the bracelet’s blue screen, but when he pointed at the boy impaled with the spear, it showed nothing. The bracelet did not recognize the boy as a living creature. “By the Aeternum.” Attalus covered his face with his hand.
The legionnaires stared blankly at their captain, waiting for the torrent of anger to come at them.
Attalus turned his head slowly, his face livid. “You-” He was about to explode in anger, but the booming of numerous shrill voices yelling in unison from behind stopped him.
“Goblins.” The boy holding the broken spear muttered in a rough voice, turning his head around. Right after he did so, the same splashing and voices sounded from the tunnel in front.
They were being slowly surrounded by goblins. Attalus didn't know if it was a coincidence or some powerful creature’s orchestration. Either way, they were not in condition to face another band of goblins—or worse.
“Carry the boys. We’re out of here.” Attalus turned around and began walking, sword drawn and eyes wavering, but he couldn't afford to rest.
The legionnaires approached the three boys, but the one still awake waved his weapons aggressively towards them.
“You know kid, if you don’t cooperate we’re gonna leave you here to die. We’re not dying for some random kid’s fault. Make a choice.” Attalus and the boy stared at each other, their gazes unwavering. He noticed that the boy had lost the dreadful gaze he had before, maybe result of knowing that his life was not in danger—at least not immediate danger.
The boy stared back for a few more seconds and began to lower his weapons to allow the men to carry him.
“What do we do with this?” Bellamy jerked off his spear from the dead boy’s body, making blood spurt from his chest.
Attalus grimaced inside at the crude action, but did not make any comment on it. The situation left no room for appearances. “We can’t afford to bring the body. Leave him.”
“No.” The boy yelled and began to struggle within the legionnaire’s grasp.
“Stop it.” Attalus shouted, but the boy ignored him entirely. “I said,” He approached the two and lifted the boy by the neck. “Stop it.” He punched him on the stomach, taking away his consciousness and then giving him back to the legionnaire.
“Get moving recruits, out of this hole.” He walked off towards the main tunnel. “Bellamy, watch the rear.” He said and the legionnaires began their retreat.