Stick’s breath came fast and uneven as he turned to face the two new goblins. A quick inspection revealed them to be a [LVL 1] and [LVL 2] Goblin Grunt. His chest tightened.
“Time to see what you’re made of, hero,” Hirohiro said, ducking behind the wall with Big Man once again.
That little goblinshit.
But Stick had no time to fume. The LVL 2 goblin lunged—and this time, he was ready. He dodged, raising his sword in a crude but effective block. Hirohiro watched with a critical eye as Stick adjusted to the goblin’s movements, his counterstrikes growing sharper, more decisive.
Then the second goblin attacked.
Stick barely had time to react before a dagger stabbed into his side. A sudden jolt of pain shot through his ribs. Even without glancing at his Status, he knew his Life Points were draining. Stick quickly realized that blocking from two sides at once was impossible. Gritting his teeth, he leapt back and broke into a sprint.
“What are you doing?” Nakamura yelled. “We can’t see you from there!”
Stick ignored him. He had a plan.
He darted toward the crumbling remains of a house, spotting a small hole in the wall—just big enough for a goblin. Perfect.
Slamming into the rotting door, he put all his weight behind the hit. To his surprise, the lock snapped instantly, sending the door swinging open with a groan. Stick tumbled inside, hitting the dusty floor hard. Coughing from the stirred-up dust, he scrambled to his feet and refocused. No time.
The goblins were closing in. The LVL 1 Goblin reached the entrance first—just as Stick slammed the door in its face. A muffled screech erupted from the other side, followed by frantic scratching. The goblin outside shoved against the door, trying to force it open, but Stick held firm. Then the noise stopped.
Stick knew that he had to run to the hole in the wall immediately. As he had thought, it was too small for a human to squeeze through, but the LVL 2 Goblin’s head popped out of the wall. Stick didn’t hesitate. He thrust his sword straight into the creature’s skull, and with a sickening crunch, the Goblin Grunt collapsed. Without pause, he pulled his sword free and turned back to the door, ready to finish off the other goblin. But when he grabbed the handle, it wouldn’t budge. What the hell?
He yanked again. Nothing. He noticed the door had tilted slightly. Crouching, he spotted a dagger jammed beneath it. The LVL 1 Goblin had locked him in. His moment of disbelief was interrupted by the sound of shifting debris in the back of the ruin. Another entrance?
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But it was worse than that. When his eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, his blood turned to ice. [LVL 7 Goblin Shaman].
The creature had just awoken from its slumber, and it now stared at him with wide, glowing eyes. Shit.
He spun back to the door, yanking at it desperately. No use. He’d have to rip it from its hinges, and he didn’t have time. A chilling chant echoed through the ruin.
The Goblin Shaman screeched and took a step forward, its hands glowing with eerie, green energy. Stick lunged for the hole in the wall, shoving at the dead goblin’s body—but something pushed back from the other side. That goblinshit!
Stick turned just in time to see the Shaman release a burst of light. It spread out wildly before morphing into dark sludge. Stick dodged, rolling to the side, but a few drops landed on his right arm. Fuck!
Pain. Immediate and searing. His muscles spasmed. His sword clattered to the floor. He hissed, trying to wipe the substance off with his left hand, but the sludge burned there, too, with a sickening hiss. Acid!
His chest heaved. His vision blurred.
“Big Man!” Stick shouted, his voice raw. “Hirohiro!”
No answer.
His pulse pounded in his ears.
The Shaman chanted again.
Stick crawled backward, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. He barely had the strength to push himself away, pain ripping through his trembling limbs with every movement. The Shaman’s hand lit up again. There was no way Stick had enough Protection to save himself. The next one’s fatal.
Tears stung his eyes.
“Big Man!” he yelled. “Please!”
To no avail.
No one was coming.
The Shaman stepped closer. Its glowing hand rose higher—ready to strike. Stick’s back hit the far wall. Trapped. No! By myself!
He braced himself and with all his might he kicked the wall to his right, propelling his body sideways. The acid splashed where he’d just been. Stick tried to push himself up with his left hand, but pain flared again, sending him crashing to his shoulder. The LVL 7 foe chanted faster. Stick clenched his teeth and forced himself up. The glowing hand shot forward.
Stick charged.
With a raw, desperate roar, he slammed his fist into the Shaman’s face. The creature shrieked, its spell disrupting mid-cast. It stumbled, reaching for a dagger—
Stick was already sprinting past it. My sword!
He scanned the ground. Nothing. Where did it go?
His mind flashed too late—Inventory.
Before he could reach for his Menu, the Shaman whirled toward the door, hand glowing once more.
Then—
A heavy thud.
The door shook violently.
The Shaman ignored it, shrieking as it hurled another wave of acid.
The door exploded inward.
Sunlight flooded the room, momentarily blinding Stick and the Shaman.
Wood splintered. Acid splashed uselessly against the falling door.
A silhouetted figure stepped inside, framed by the light.
“Away, you insolent pest!” an unknown voice rang out.
Stick barely had time to react before the sound of steel met flesh—a rapid, merciless flurry. The Shaman screeched, its cries cut short. When Stick’s vision cleared, the creature lay still. Blood pooled beneath it. The figure in front of him already started clearing the blood off its resplendent armor, which gleamed in the sunlight. Who-?
“Has harm befallen you, young one?” the knight asked, calmly wiping his blade clean. “Do not fret, for you are under the protection of House Blitz now.”
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