Mother taught me a lot about savagery and survival in my formative years. She took me deep into the Ironwoods of Brogheimr’s northeastern expanse. There she drilled her most important lessons into me. There, away from Father’s concerned watch, I learned strategic cruelty.

Young adult me complained considerably because these were hard lessons, but my Mother would not relent. Somehow, I learned to thrive despite being the lesser ranger compared to Mother. I became a monstress of a young giantess. I learned to like what made my Mother scary.

I had started to pride myself in the art of savagery under such conditions. I felt connected with Mother in a way I had rarely felt before. Mother admitted she felt connected with me, too, which exhilarated me enough to train harder. We were happy blood-lusting killers during those weeks in the cold Ironwoods. Nary a beast escaped us unscathed.

Then I returned home and washed up and ate lots of yummy homecooked food.

I received a pile of new pelts and robes from Father. I played dress-up with Logotha. Once I was weary enough, I napped all day and night in my free time.

I would never be the excellent giantess ranger Mother had been because I was halfhearted in my devotion.

However, I was my mother’s daughter, especially now that I neared a fight.

“Be assertive.” I picked up a rock the size of my fist. It would do great.

“Be aggressive.” I ripped a sapling out of the ground, its roots tearing and flinging dirt.

“And all the rest,” I said, letting the spirit of the mantra sink into me as I moved downwind of the fight.

I would not pretend that I could stealthily join. But I moved with some measure of care. I stepped softly over logs and foliage. I ducked under grasping branches. The world was relatively small compared to me, yes, but ranger training had taught me how to maneuver well enough. I could stalk, track, and reduce the chances of someone doing the same to me.

I stopped near the break in the forest and crouched behind a thicket of trees. There was glade ahead of me. Under the bright-blue day, the wind blew and a river of grass rippled around a small, crumbled watchtower.

The old structure had been a bastion for giant rangers like Mother. They would camp there, restock on supplies, and survey the area. Now it was an old fortification covered in ivy; blocks were piled on the ground at its base while holes riddled its walls.

That bothered me… the look of age. But I ignored it in favor of something more lively. And filled with blood.

Vicious hounds that reached my knees were bolting through the grass and circling the old tower. At the top of the tower, a little creature that could barely reach my calf stood outrageously on the battlements.

It was waving its hands frantically above its head from what I could observe. The movement drew my gaze toward the emerald-colored scripture hanging over its head. The symbols seemed clearly defined despite the distance.

I identified it as a [34 ★ Goblin Wizard].

I’d heard of such creatures⁠—the goblin, not the star⁠s—but I’d never seen one. It was a tiny thing, and it was 11 stars beneath me. I wondered how the goblin could defend itself against half a dozen monster hounds, which I identified as copper-colored [35 ★ Lesser Giant Dogs].

Their star count was higher than the goblin’s. And they had greater numbers on their side! Surely, the goblin was doomed.

I wondered if I should step in now.

But I was also curious about the outcome. I wanted to see what the goblin would do, especially since it was a magician of sorts. I hadn’t known goblins could use magic.

Its frantic waving conjured a bright orange orb that grew rapidly. Once it became the size of my fist, the goblin hurled down the orange orb with the motion of her arms. She didn’t even touch it; the orb sailed on its own due to her gesture alone.

One of the would-be attackers was digging at the rubble blocking the dog’s entry. The others departed when they saw the orange ball plummeting. The remaining dog and the base of the tower lit up in a flash of fury and smoke.

I was startled, taken aback by the thump that vibrated up my feet. The noise was boisterous, and the fire was intense. Much of the grass went up in smoke. I suspected the dog suffered a similar fate. To my surprise, it still lived. If barely.

It writhed on the scorched earth in its death’s throes. But I had been certain the explosive flames would’ve wiped it out completely. Or maybe I had been too stunned by my awe to reassess my earlier opinion. I had no choice but to rethink things when the other dogs resumed their siege on the tower. They really wanted that goblin!

The goblin stared down at its returning predicament. It wasn’t waving its arms anymore. If it had tuckered out, the goblin would surely die if the dogs managed to break into the tower. Maybe that was for the best.

I had heard goblins were mischievous creatures. It was a good idea to squash them underfoot like bugs if a giant found one or two. If a nest was nearby, then it was dutiful to eradicate them all thoroughly. It had to be done by any means, apparently.

If Mother were here, she would’ve allowed this goblin to succumb to its fate. In fact, she would’ve stayed and watched. She would’ve made sure, then kill the vicious dogs.

It was here that Father’s teaching butted in. Where Mother saw a blight against the order of things, Father saw an opportunity in something divergent of the order of things. I had never heard of a goblin using such magic. It was nearly as powerful as a fire giant’s practice.

I was curious. I figured I could gain here. The dogs would suit my rising need to expend energy. They would be suitable prey for my bubbling bloodlust and for my first trial as a lone ranger without Mother’s guidance.

Heart pounding, I stepped out from behind my concealed position. Before I left the forest line, the goblin and the dogs noticed me. I was already throwing my rock by then, a basic and great giant weapon. It hurtled speedily and brained one of the dogs trying to dig its way into the tower.

I strode forward, my hands wrapped around the sapling like a staff. Four gnashing teeth faced me. It was not good odds, especially against pack animals. Despite that, I stormed across the smoky glade to continue setting a precedent. I was the alpha here, and aggression was my greatest ally.

One dog lunged boldly to bite my thigh. I swatted it aside with my makeshift staff. Another jumped at me from my left. I whirled the sapling around and splintered the end on the beast’s nose. The third and fourth decided to jump in at the same time. I gritted my teeth.

Vicious pain blitzed up my leg from the bite behind my thigh. A savage maw clamped down on my forearm. Both dogs thrashed around to rip into giantess flesh. They both had a good hold of me, and my blood was wetting their tongues. But I remained stable on my feet.

I wished I had my weapons. Yes, Mother had taught the ultimate weapon was thyself. But a knife or a short axe would’ve made things simpler. I supposed their deaths would be more satisfying through the bare-handed approach.

Starting with the dog on my forearm, I dropped my sapling staff and clamped my hand over the hinge of the dog’s jaw. I twisted and jerked its mandible loose. Even with gravity pulling it down, my crushing grip held its lower jaw, which in turn had the dog aloft as my hostage.

It whined and thrashed about to escape me. It couldn’t. I then reached behind me for the back-leg biter. This one I grabbed by the neck and squeezed. It gagged and released my leg.

The other dogs circled me. They looked warily at the comrades I held. The remaining dogs were so focused on me they didn’t notice the little goblin preparing another fireball.

Wait, where would she aim that if she wanted to hurt the dogs? It just occurred to me that she might strike me down with all of them!

“If you can understand me, I mean you no harm!” I yelled quickly. I was tough, but I wouldn’t want to be burned unnecessarily. I was the daughter of a great fire giant, but I was not a pure fire giant. “Please, don’t attack me.”

I still held onto the dogs I had. The last two looked frightened. They might have bitten off more than they could chew now that I was here. I knew they were going to run, and I wondered if that was okay. Maybe it wouldn’t be okay with the goblin.

I couldn’t stop smiling when the dogs made a break for the forest. The goblin hadn’t released her spell yet until that moment. An earth-thumping blast of fire exploded the beasts without affecting me too heavily. My pelts were singed a little, but that was all. With those dogs facing their last moments burned alive, I focused on my captives.

The one I held by the neck begged for mercy with puppy-dog looks. So did the other that dangled by its broken mandibles. They added whimpers for good measure.

My smile broadened.

I started on the one I held by the neck and swung it behind me. Then forward. I smashed its body down. While it was stunned, I replaced my hand with my knee and dropped. Hard. I pulverized its neck with my weaponized weight. It twitched to death.

With both hands now available, I gripped the last dog’s head fully and compressed. I grinned at the feeling of a skull starting to fracture between my palms. I took my time to squeeze, squeeze, and crunch! Brain gunk and bone bits wet my fingers. I got some of it on my face and chest. I cooed, feeling tempted to lick it up. My savagery was fierce, but my hunger was even fiercer!

I held back for now since I had an audience.

Invigorating sensations thrummed around my body. The success of the slaughter filled me with passionate tingles. The sensations traveled from the crown of my head to the ends of my toes. It was exciting.

Sometimes, I hated Mother for when she had been cold, mean, and brutish. But I understood her a little better now after killing beasts without her. It took a special kind of woman to enjoy this and still be a part of the world.

I could see how she was a standoffish ranger toward most giants who considered themselves more civilized. They would judge her. I had judged her plenty of times myself.

But unlike her, I wanted to make companions quickly. The faster I could do that, the faster I could figure out how they could serve me and make my life easier. Or answer essential questions that would guide me on my way. Many things might’ve changed since I’d been gone. I desperately needed information.

My gaze turned up to the goblin who studied me from on top of the giant’s tower. I assessed the little creature and noticed her slight feminine shape under sophisticated leather armor. I smirked. I wriggled my brain-covered fingers as my hello for the goblin girl.

She didn’t reciprocate. Her gaze veered to the side.

A glint of light glimmered near the goblin’s face. The dazzling sparkle shaped into a star, amazing me with its beauty. Fully enthralled, I watched as the star fused with the green scripture above the goblin’s head.

She was now a [35 ★ Goblin Wizard].

I frowned. Where was my star?

Then I noticed a gold blinking light outside of my direct vision. I focused on it.

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You’ve defeated 3 enemies and assisted against 2 enemies in this encounter. They were all considerably weaker than you. This experience produced 1 star fragment. Additionally, your class has updated to Ranger.

[]

I huffed. I was displeased by the tone of the message. It made me feel inadequate for being powerful. What did it matter if I fought weaker enemies? It was not my fault for being stronger. I was injured, wasn’t I? And what was the star fragment for?

I knew I was ignorant of this strange magic, but it vexed me with its mysteries. I needed answers. I also required materials to dress my wounds.

The tower should have the materials. Mother had shown me how rangers hid supplies in seemingly abandoned places. So I knew where to look.

The apprehensive goblin should have the answers I sought once I get the supplies and climb the tower. I hoped she wasn’t in the business of hoarding after all the effort I put in to aid her. That would be rude! It would also be bad for her health.

She was dealing with a hungry giantess riding a battle high.