Sweetwater, Texas

“Trixie, where are you?” Alison whispered, eyes frantically scanning the rubble of the building. There was no sign anywhere of her cousin, but she was sure that she had been inside the building when the tornado had hit it. A tornado out of nowhere, seemingly conjured by one of those insect men, or Albarnese as they called themselves.

Alison looked around nervously, before dashing to the other side of the pile of debris.

“Trixie!” she whispered again, as loudly as she dared to, but there was no response… just the chirping of the birds, unconcerned by what had transpired here a few minutes earlier, and the ubiquitous background noise of the cicadas.

And the occasional scream in the distance, closer to the center of Sweetwater, where most of the fighting, if one could call it that, took place.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Mertesdorf, Germany

Daniela was sitting next to her brother, sobbing quietly. “Peter, hast Du gesehen was die Darkalves mit Thomas gemacht haben? Der hat doch gar nichts angestellt! Nur eine Frage gestellt…”

“Ich weiss, Daniela. Ich weiss,” Peter responded soothingly while petting her arm awkwardly. He did not know what else to say.

Since the change a couple of days ago, everything had been different. Suddenly, people had mana, and there were monsters, giant apelike creatures that could rip a grown man apart within seconds. And the flying serpents, with their acid glands capable of dissolving even concrete and steel.

And then, of course, there were the Darkalves… at first, people had mistaken them for elves, from the stories. They had beautiful features, and tall, lanky bodies. But, contrary to the stories, they were far from friendly. Or fair. Or just.

And they liked blood. Fresh. And apparently, human blood was a delicacy.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Unknown area

The massive beast ponderously made its way through the marshy terrain, ignoring trees and towering ferns alike as it bulldozed a new path through the dense vegetation.

It was colossal, even for its own kind, with a shoulder height of fifteen feet and a length, head to tail of fifty feet. Large, brown-grey scales, hard as steel covered its body, leaving little of it unprotected. Perhaps the tiny eyes were a vulnerability or the slightly softer scales on the abdomen, but it had not encountered anything that seriously could threaten it in its three hundred years of existence.

So it was understandable that it did not spare the three-foot-tall, wingless, birdlike creatures a second glance. They were new to the area, an unknown species to the lumbering giant. But so small that they were almost beneath its notice.

Until it felt suddenly weaker, feebler than it could remember ever having been. With a roar, the beast turned its head, scanning the area for whatever was assailing it, ready to crush to pulp any challenger to its might.

But it was too late.

Darkness began to cloud the beast’s mind and just like that the majestic creature perished.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Utterly exhausted, I sank to the ground, trying to regain some of my strength. I knew it was a matter of minutes, if not seconds before I had to start running again, but I desperately needed that break – my legs were like jelly and when I tried holding my arm up to check for injuries, it trembled like leaves in a strong wind.

I looked at the carnage I had wrought, feeling revulsion and pride warring within me at the horrible sight. But despite my misgivings about snuffing out so many lives… I did not regret it too much. In fact, I had felt alive during the fights, more alive than… I did not even know… than ever? The adrenalin rush of pitting my skills against some brutish monsters, in a fight to the death, was something I never had quite experienced before.

And yes, there was panic, fear, desperation as well… there had been already multiple situations in which I had thought that I was done for. But I had pulled myself out of those tight spots and could credit no one but myself for it. And, frankly, that felt pretty darn good.

Well, sure, there was also some luck involved – the goblin with the ax hitting the big goblin just so that it severed the spine, my fall down the ravine with only a few bruises and cracked ribs to show, the intervention of the mushroom that ultimately saved my life… and many more. It was not something I should rely on in the future, because luck is a fickle mistress… all the more reason to get stronger and be able to get out of tight spots without relying on providence.

“Alright, Daniel, you can take a nap later,” I grunted and got up on my feet.

Wincing in pain, I gingerly I touched the cut in my face. I could feel a gash going all the way from my temple down to the side of my mouth… not particularly deep from the feel of it, but bleeding profusely and stinging like a bitch.

“Fucking goblins,” I grumbled, already imagining the huge scar I was going to have in my face. Unless amber mana healed wounds without leaving a scar… something else I did not know yet.

Either way, it was clear that I needed some solid rest to recuperate and recover my amber mana. The sooner I healed all my wounds, the better my chances. And I still had to somehow take care of the roots and spiderling remains…

As I was standing there, trying to figure out what to do next, I felt a weird, yet strangely familiar, tingling sensation around my chest area. Curious, I activated Mana Vision and immediately, it became clear what had caused the sensation… a thin stream of red and green mana, originating from the dead goblins all around entered my body.

Mana… just what I needed. The only downside was that it was not amber, which was what I needed the most - and if my hypothesis from before was correct, mana of other colors would not really help in gaining any additional amber. But then again… maybe red and green mana could be transformed into amber. Who the fuck knows. I would have to experiment more when I found the time.

And if not… adding green and red mana to my repertoire would perhaps add some useful options. But right then and there it was not the time and place to further speculate on this question. First, I had to get my ass out of here - the last goblin had gotten away and probably was going to bring more of its brethren and then there were those other groups of goblins still roaming around.

Right on cue, I could hear the clanging of metal on metal and the stomping of feet getting closer from the other two hallways, leaving only my current corridor or the kitchen as possible escape routes.

For a moment, I hesitated over where to go, but then took a firm grip on the handle of my sword, and moved swiftly, at least as much as my physical condition permitted, toward the kitchen. Yes, the escaped goblin had run into that direction and was probably getting reinforcement already, but the alternative was, likely, worse – the group of goblins further off into the darkness had fought something and based on the lack of noise coming from that passageway, they had lost.

If I was fast enough, I might make it through the kitchen area before other goblins showed up and manage to hide somewhere… at least that was the hope. Which meant that the quicker I got my ass there, the better my chances.

Using a weird shuffling gait, I arrived at the kitchen within a minute, at most. Not far behind, I could hear the shouts of the goblins, probably trying to figure out what had happened after seeing the carnage I had left behind.

Any minute they would rush this way… I needed a fucking hiding spot.

Frantically, I scanned the kitchen, but there was nothing suitable. In a pinch, I could crawl into the pile of the crates and arrange them around me, but that would take time, and if any of the goblins would get something out of a barrel or box, they would surely notice me.

No, I had to move on.

The door leading out of the kitchen was open, and I quickly hobbled into the hallway beyond. The passageway seemed to be mostly identical to what I had seen previously, with tiles on the floor and the ceiling, and smooth walls left and right. This time, however, the corridor was brightly lit by what looked like crystals set into the stone walls every few feet. And with the bright light I could make out, for the first time, the detailed artwork covering the tiles on the ceiling, and the intricate patterns of the stone carvings on the walls – something I had thought of as chisel marks, turned out to be some impressive ornamentation. Despite the somewhat faded colors on the tiles and the partially chipped off gold filigree, the place spoke of former grandeur and glory.

What was this?

Freaking Atlantis buried under the Adirondack mountains? That made no fucking sense. And I was pretty sure that Native Americans had never built anything like this either. And, for that matter, someone should have discovered this kind of structure a long time ago.

Either way, I could not afford to twiddle my thumbs, because the goblins were right behind me – apparently, at least some of the goblins had figured that it was best to search the kitchen area for me.

With renewed vigor, I slowly jogged down the hallway, barely suppressing groans of pain.

I had a few seconds at best to get out of there.

Ahead, I could make out the passageway widening to about double the width, with alcoves on both sides, each with what looked like elaborate statues about the size of a human. The corridor ended in huge double doors made out of dark wood, reinforced with bands of black iron.

As I approached the end of the hallway, I heard guttural shouts from beyond and a thumping noise that rattled the door, as if something heavy had crashed against it. And then the door began to open.

Immediately, I threw myself in the narrow space next to one of the statues and covered my skin with black mana, hoping that I was not too late.

Within split seconds, the door fully opened and hit the side of the wall with a resounding bang. And then a group of six heavily armed goblins rushed out, trampling over the poor goblin that I had fought, all the while shouting angrily in their language.

And as if that was not enough, I could now see what was beyond the doors… a huge room full of goblins. There had to be thirty or forty of them.

I was so screwed.

Even in peak physical condition, I’d not be able to take on more than perhaps six goblins at once. Small as they were, they still had weapons, and all it took was one good stab or slash, and that was it for me.

And I was far from being in my best condition.

With a conscious effort, I calmed myself down – panicking was not going to get me out of this pickle. The goblins had not noticed me yet, so nothing was lost. And as long as my black mana lasted, I could hide behind the statue and figure out a solution to the situation.

Trying to get somewhat comfortable, and failing miserably in the tight space, I decided to use the time to try and recover some mana. It was a bit tough to meditate under the given circumstance, but I managed at least a little bit.

Before I had even fully recovered my mana, I heard the loud bang of a door slamming shut from the kitchen area and then the noise of many boots hitting the ground and coming closer.

Quickly, I made sure that my skin was fully covered in mana and stood stock still, praying that the goblins would again just walk past me.

When the goblins got closer, I stared in shock at their condition – every single one was covered in bruises, abrasions, and open wounds from head to toe. That must have been a major scuffle they got into. And, according to my calculation... there had to have been at least sixteen goblins out on that side of the kitchen, but in this group, there were only eight of them, including the six heavily armed goblins I had observed leaving just a few minutes earlier. Maybe the other goblins were still out there, but I doubted it, given the condition these goblins were in.

Interestingly, the goblins wore their wounds rather stoically – instead of groaning, wincing, or, at least, whining, they only occasionally grunted at each other in, what seemed annoyance or anger. Somehow, that made them even less human to me than any of their other behavior. And perhaps that was a good thing too because I had to figure out a way to kill another forty or fifty of them to get out of here.

Unless they were going to leave any time soon, but I doubted that was going to happen. The brief glances I had gotten through the double door, had given the impression that the goblins were permanently living in that room – filthy beds in a disorganized chaos, crates, haphazardly stacked on top of each other, clothes spread to dry on lines crisscrossing the room and all kinds of other details that indicated permanent living quarters rather than a temporary shelter.

Once the goblins had passed my location, with barely a glance directed toward any of the statues, I took a deep breath. Time to figure out a plan.

One option was to get back to the cave on the floor above and try to find another exit. But the thought of getting deeper into the cave system, possibly teeming with spiders, quickly shut down that thought. There were also two more corridors to explore, one of which, perhaps both, had some type of monster that had chewed up the goblins pretty badly – not a great option either.

Other than that… the venting shaft in the kitchen? Probably that was too small.

Or I had to deal with the tribe of goblins on the other side of the doors somehow. Could I perhaps use poison? Or smoke? While tempting, I was not sure how to go about actually doing that.

Unless…

Carefully, I got out from behind the statue and made my way back to the kitchen area.

Once there, I started digging through the crates full of equipment that were haphazardly piled on top of each other, while carefully listening for any noise of approaching goblins. At first, all I could find were random things one might need for a kitchen or dining area, such as pots, and pans, silverware, knives, vases, candles, and a host of other utterly useless garbage.

Well, garbage might be an exaggeration. Some of the stuff was actually pretty nice – the vases were intricately crafted, and the silverware was made out of actual silver, it seemed, including some small gemstones in the handles of a select set of them. For a short moment, I was tempted to grab it all and make a run for it… but where would I run? And what would I do with silver forks and spoons?

So I tossed the things aside with ever-increasing urgency.

I needed instead… and there it was: a pile of sturdy burlap sacks. Fingers slightly shaking in relief, I grabbed them and checked briefly for holes.

Not wanting to stretch my luck even more, I hobbled out of the kitchen into the dark hallway setting out to implement my plan – a plan that was either ingenious, despite its simplicity, or was going to get me killed rather quickly.