According to goblin beliefs, white was the color of death. Green, brown, grey, black - these were the safe colors. Colors of forests, colors of caves, of their safety. A small goblin hiding in the bushes could be easily overlooked during exterminations, all he needed to do was to curl in a ball holding their head pretending that they were dead. Pretending, that massacre around them was not happening. That’s how Gorru managed to survive. He lived for the tribe, he fought for the tribe… but, when the nest was being eradicated, when there was hope for their survival… he just ran toward the bushes, hiding himself and stopping moving. For days he lied hiding, not sure whenever the forces of humans had left his home before he would return, seeing what they did. Over and over again all he saw was burned houses and bodies of his family, piled like trash in the center, like garbage! Like waste!

Gorru would howl and weep… and plan vengeance in his mind. But, for all these years his plans remained only dreams. Because he was a goblin. A mere goblin. He killed a few humans in his long life, yes. But what were ten or twenty villagers and five or six adventurers compared to a single town with thousands of them? Nothing. They wouldn’t even notice these people missing. For goblin killing a human was an achievement that would boost his rank - sometimes even considered the highest honor one could receive in his life!

HUMANS! How Gorru despised those evil, sick-minded creatures!

Especially their chieftains - those wearing white and silver!

WHITE! AND SILVER! Shiny armors! Dangerous color! Providing no camouflage, no safety! People wearing those entered the middle of the battleground proudly as if casting their lives away! The color of their armor would call for everyone’s attention! Every hunter, every warrior's only role is to kill and not get killed. This is why they have claws! This is why their body mimics their environment! So they can kill to survive! So they can survive to kill! Wearing dangerous colors was… INSANITY!

… And it was death. Six times. Six times Gorru was deprived of a nest. Six times by humans led by those claded in these dangerous colors. Entering their home as if it belonged to them! Those bastards in white! The very essence of Gorru’s malice was reserved for those.

Today, he was enjoying his slumber, putting his old bones to rest. Recently, the youngling started bringing animals from the nearest farm. Gorru scolded them, and he did that in goblins way - by hitting them with his staff till their green body turned blue. How many times did he have to repeat how dangerous humans were!? How many times did he have to show his scars? Tell them tales about his previous homes being destroyed before they learn!? And then, one of the youngs yelled.

“Those are fairy tales! You are old! You are weak! You are reeking of fear!”

The biggest and ‘bravest’ of the young generation would spit in his face, challenging him for a duel. Poor fool, now his head was resting on an altar, feeding the spirits. Shame. There had been plans for him. As the time would come he would have become a perfect warlord - too stupid to refuse a command to attack.

That was irrelevant now. His display of power and cruelty put the rest of the generation in line. He only hoped that this would put an end to those pointless, mindless ‘raids’ on the farmland. This way, they could grow in numbers… just a few more months. A few more… and they will be able to take another clan. And another! And then, they would not only destroy the farmland! Not only nearest villages… but also this… filthy nest of depravity - the city of Boltward, where the silver and white humans came from!

The day would come… surely. Even if his old body would crumble, even if he would bleed from every hole and pore. The flames dancing on the Boltward would be the last thing he wanted to see before parting his way with this world. He dreamed about his plans when suddenly a shriek filled with fear woke him up.

He knew that shriek far too well, in the end, Gorru heard it dozens if not hundreds of times already. He quickly put on his robe-armor and grabbed a spear-staff leaving him room. Then he saw it - his prisoners, offering for the spirits running away freed by the group of humans… led by the man in white.

Gorru’s heart skipped a beat. Is that the seventh time? Seventh time when his home would be destroyed? No! NO! By the merciful earth! He is too old! He won’t survive another purge! And even if, he wouldn’t have enough time to raise another tribe! Oh cruel spirits of the sky, is that the end?

… No. Wait. These humans… there are only four of them? And three of them are retreating!? Were the spirits of the wind merciful for once? By the forever-sleeping! That’s true! That makes sense - they are not an attack force! Merely scouts! They still have a chance! If they could kill them and relocate the tribe…

Gorru let out a howl, ordering half of his forces to chase after the group that was running away. They cannot escape!

He saw three of his “children” already jumping after the man in white, they should keep him occupied before the rest of the nest would pounce at him! They would strip him from the flesh and…

His kids died. It all happened within less than ten seconds. Impaled and squashed… Like bugs.

Gorru yelled once again. Bloody shinny bastard! He was feeding The Nest’s Protector for months, it was nearly finished! He was so close… but he couldn’t risk it. It only took one human returning to the city for them to send the entire army after them… And then, everything would be over.

Mighty shaman approached the totem, dug his staff next to it, and started singing.

“With blood that you were fed…” he started singing in his rough, impossible to understand tongue “... For the blood to hunt, into the blood you are called, with blood you are called. Awaken, mighty Gul’na’re! The great warrior of almighty Father of all Gluttons! It is time for you to wake up. Wake up - and hunt!”

And so, at first, nothing happened. The static resemblances of animals: eagle, wolf, and bear separated by tiny smaller statues of goblins continued to stay perfectly still, as if unaffected. And then, one of the eyes blinked.

Just as I presumed - about half of the tribe chased after my teammates, trying to stop them from escaping. They crawled over the walls and ran across savage bridges they raised all over the cave. I noticed Luka stopping by one of the bridges, urging his team to go, and cutting off vines which were supporting one of such constructions, sending three goblins down. Guessing by the distance between the bridge and the ground, they shouldn’t survive. Then, our party leader threw one of his daggers at another beast which had been getting closer to him, before turning his back and running into the tunnel. Good. In a narrow one-sided passage that they have seen before they should have an advantage… they should be fine.

And that meant that I didn’t have to worry about them, and so, I could fight freely.

My eyes once again traveled to the shaman, who had been chanting some weird spell in unknown to me language to his totem.

Just when I was wondering about the nature of this spell, I noticed something. A red mist of life started to lift off the ground, surrendering the totem, sinking into it. It was essence. Pure life. But from where did it come from? The sheer amount of this essence made me dizzy, awakening my hunger.

Why? I have just feasted! Minutes ago! I have consumed life from three goblins! That should keep me sated for at least two or three days!

Once the mist completely soaked into the wooden structure, it started circulating within it, like blood within veins. And then, the wooden “shell” around it cracked, starting to fall off.

Behind the wide totem was flesh. Pulsating, shifting, turning into some grotesque monster. It was… a goblin. A horrifying, huge goblin, standing a good two and half, maybe three meters tall. Goblin, with body parts of animals. His eyes weren’t narrow and black, like those of a regular-sized version of his kin, rather round and yellow, like those of a hunting-bird. Instead of regular clawed hands, he was armored with paws able to rival Ol’ Rockpaw. Part of the body covered in fur, from the back oh his skull single feathers were sticking out proudly like a tiara… or crown.

Stretching its body, it gazed over the cave and let out an ear-piercing shriek.

“Nag, gor va tir di Gul’na’re?!” it roared.

Shaman pointed at me, saying words which I couldn’t hear nor understand. But, in the very next second, a colossal beast kicked him, sending him good three or four meters back.

Apparently, it didn’t like being summoned just to kill a single human.

It actually moved deeper into the cave instead of challenging me. It located a pile of bones, sat on it like on a throne and pointing at me it let out another roar.

“Sar’ na-dak, nuhr ver gob kar! Kar de Vei! Kar di bru! KAR DE VEI!”

I didn’t need to be linguistic to understand at least one of the sentences. Kar de vei - kill the human.

Scared for their lives, the horde ran at me. In a mess, without any formation nor plan, hoping to overpower me with sheer numbers. Unfortunately for them, I was already experienced in battling hordes of mindless enemies, my previous encounters with undead had prepared me well. Holding the ground was pointless. Instead, I had to trade a few blows and move back. Seeing me being pushed to the wall, they would most likely keep on attacking recklessly, so I could keep on slowly bleeding them dry… and, once I reached the wall, I had a surprise prepared for them.

First, two goblins came running at me, both attacking my front, one aiming for my legs, the other - my chest.

With a quick strike of my shield I hit the goblin who had jumped trying to reach my heart, probably bruising him quite a lot and pushing him aside, buying myself a few precious seconds. At that time the goblin “on the ground” tried piecing my thigh. I reacted quickly, taking a step back making that little greedy devil pierce nothing but air. He was charging in hoping that the momentum of his running body would add to the power of the strike, yet, in his current situation, it only shook his balance and made him unable to dodge.

One quick swing of my sword separated his head from his neck, sending it to the side while his body collapsed down like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

One down. Around forty-nine more to go. Gonna be a walk in the park.

The swarm of goblins in front of me started getting denser and denser, clever creatures kept on trying to attack me from all sides.

But I? I only danced in response. When the crowd was getting too thick, I struck with my shield, felling one of them and making the rest stumble upon it, then I would avoid an attack, and slash. Thrust. Pierce.

And a step or two back, giving them the field, respecting their number.

Second, third, and a fourth goblin fell lifeless on the floor.

One of the goblins managed to jump on my leg. Embracing it with his legs and one hand, he kept on trying to force his dagger into narrow gaps around joints, hoping to cut on my muscles and tendons to cripple me down. I didn’t have time to shake him off, as I risked the rest of his brothers doing the same. That little bugger only slowed me down, adding additional weight to my limb slightly reducing my reaction speed. For now, I allowed him to just dangle there.

Go on, little one, try to pierce that flesh, keep on looking, you might eventually find it. Godspeed to you. I wonder how long it will take you before you notice that your dagger meets no resistance.

I smashed another goblin’s head with my rather heavy shield, took a step back, slashed widely, hoping to scare them off, but, as they were far more afraid of the beast behind them, they kept on pushing forward - on me, meeting my blade. I was slowly deprived of my ability to perform wide swings and had to double the frequency of my steps back… until I eventually hit the cave’s wall.

Goblins shrieked in euphoria, knowing that soon they will be able to completely overpower me, and so, I just forced my backs into the corner, raised my shield, and reached out with my mind. The four corpses which I animated earlier and used to clear the path to the prisoner’s room had jumped off the cliff and landed all around me. Four undead goblins collapsed on their kin digging their daggers and claws deep under the skin.

Arise!

I yelled in my mind, forcing the four puppets upright. Two on my left. Two on my right. With my sides and backs secured, with my shield in front of me, I started a massacre.

I kept on lowering and dropping my sword on their heads. One swing, one kill. There was no footwork nor skill involved, just mindless slaughter, treating the sword more like a meat cleaver or a club.

Undead on my side acted as their un-natural instinct dictated them. They pierced, they slashed, and they clawed at their yet no so long ago brothers. Warriors in the mass, first confused with this sudden change of flow of battle quickly recognized puppets as their enemies and started fighting back…

… but. They weren’t quite aware of how one should fight with an undead. They found their usual - digging their blades in the cores, trying to cripple or bleed enemies dry, - weren’t working not knowing that such attacks won’t be effective against them. As long as their spine or brain remained intact, my zombies could keep on fulfilling their duty - being my meat shields.

My once white armor was now dark-red, the mass of goblin slowly, yet steadily was shrinking.

Pierce and cut. Slash and stab, the ground below me became slippery because of all the blood that was present. Goblins fighting with my puppets finally recognized the futility of their recent actions and changed strategy. They pounced at them, pinning down in groups of three or four and starting to pull on their limbs. Despite their small sizes, their strength was rather formidable - I could tell by seeing them ripping arms and legs off my puppets away. Soon enough, I was left with none. But, by now, it didn’t matter, for I have already achieved my goal. Less than ten of them were standing before me.

With much more room to move, I finally decided to show some recognition to the little persistent insect, that even now didn’t give up on holding on me, bah - seeing his attacks in that region not working as intended, he actually crawled up a little, and right now was trying to dig into the cracks around my waist.

I stopped moving to stand perfectly still, watching him scratch my armor, constantly reducing its durability, little by little.

He kept on hitting a few more times before realizing he no longer needed to fight to remain attached to me, as I stopped shaking and moving.

He raised his head, meeting my gaze, and freezing in fear.

I picked him up by his head and raised him in front of me, the persistent goblin was squirming, trying to free himself as he was hitting and stabbing my arm. Survivors of the horse watched this display of brute strength in terror, too scared to move. Slowly, I started tightening my grip putting my unnatural now power in use.

Beast was screaming in agony. Still, the bones were too strong to break from that alone… unless…

I checked my remaining mana.

[10/190]

Just enough.

“As the guardian, I command thy,

For that’s creature’s hourglass had ran out of sand,

No more remains of its time on this soil,

And so, I mark him as my offering to sleeping gods,

May he squirm in agony as his flesh becomes feast to the tyrants of time!” User cast [Frailty] on target [Goblin Warrior] Target's [END] decreases

Target's physical resistances lowered

Target is now more vulnerable

His body gradually weakened, the bones of its body became slightly less resistant and its skin less flexible. Just a little, but more than enough.

His skull gave up, cracking, letting down a bloody stream as the goblin let out one last cry and stopped squirming now, and forever.

I released my grip, letting its lifeless body fall down on the soil. For the first time ever, the gathered goblins considered me to be just as terrifying as the monstrosity behind them, or maybe even a little more.

The shaman, now coughing blood due to wounds inflicted to him by the beast when it kicked him, crawled back to it and bowing on all four it said something to it.

Beast froze for a moment, before answering in an angered voice and getting up off the pile as it started walking in my direction.

No more handicaps, I see. Still, I was grateful to it. If he joined the battle from the start, bah! - If he didn’t wound the shaman and let it participate in the battle, the outcome of this brawl could be definitely different and much, much worse for me.

I checked the damages that I and my armor suffered during this battle.

Hp: [267/310] Armor's durability: 72%

As an undead, I was nearly invincible while fighting with monsters weaker than me, regardless of their number. Light blows were nearly useless against me, and heavy armor additionally nullifies most of those as well. I could fight for days without breaking a sweat, and so long battles versus crowds were these in which I excelled. The situation changed though when I faced monsters which could break me like a twig with one, strong strike.

I just hoped it would be enough. I will try to gain as much time as possible… but Luka, you better get your ass back here as fast as possible.

The monster roared and spread its arm wide to the sides, taunting me. I answered by hitting my shield a few times with the edge of my blade and taking a battle stance. One leg back, standing to the enemy turned with my left side towards him, hidden behind the shield, blade ready to pierce on the level of the shield, hidden behind enemy sight.

In my mind I exhaled air loudly and cleared my head, readying myself for another battle.

Skill proficiency increased Skills:

[Sword Usage - Apprentice level 12 ➝ 15]

[Shield Usage - Apprentice level 9 ➝ 13]

[Bow Usage - Apprentice level 1]

[Nature Magic - Novice level 1]

[Mana Sense - Low - Passive]

[Life Sense - Low - Passive]

[Combat Maneuver/Team tactic - Novice level 3 ➝ 4]

[Heavy Armor Usage - Novice level 4 ➝ 6]

[Hand-to-hand Combat - Novice level 4]

[Stealth - Novice level 9]

[Mind Magic Resistance - Low level 8]

[Dark Arts - Curse Words - Novice Level 3 ➝ 4]

[Dark Arts - Necromancy - Novice Level 3]

[Tracking - Novice Level 2]