Rohan hurled his fist at the goblin’s belly, and the creature with green skin folded. It was a cheap shot coming from Rohan, but in a life and death situation, everything was a go. Rohan delivered the second blow, a kick right at the head. Sending the goblin to the ground and by chance, its short sword dropped. Then came the third blow, the dagger in Rohan’s hand pierced the goblin’s neck. The moment he swiped it right, blood spurted like a fountain.

He watched as the goblin rolled on the ground, grabbing its own neck. It tried to stop the bleeding but its attempt was futile. Seconds later, it stopped moving.

[You have gained 1 Exp.]

[You have level up.]

[You have gained 5 points.]

[Class bonus stat distributed; +1 Arcane, +1 Charisma]

The new messages were more than welcomed. But the violence he had done was something he never expected. Despite living in this world for the last seventeen years, he had never killed something that closely resembled a human. His hands trembled for a while and as he clenched his fist tight, the shaking stopped.

“Sir,” the voice of Herakles turned Rohan to his back. Immediately, he saw the sight of a goblin dragged by the bulky fisherman.

“What should I do with him?” Herakles asked.

“It still alive?” Rohan asked in surprise. “Why didn’t you kill it?”

Herakles frowned. “It’s a child, sir. We shouldn’t stoop that low,” Herakles said. “Not even after it killed sir knight.”

Rohan grabbed the bloody knife on the ground and drew closer. “Does it look like a child? Hooked nose, bat-like ears, green skin, and that ugly ass face. Does that look like a child to you?” he asked.

Herakles stared at the unconscious goblin for a while, taking his time pondering over what Rohan said. “We shouldn’t discriminate, sir. Not when there’s a possibility of . . . Wait!”

Before Herakles could even finish his word, Rohan took action before anyone else could react. The edge of his dagger when straight to the goblin’s chest right in between the ribs. The green creature awoke by the sudden pain and before it could struggle for its life, its eyes found its killer. Its strength faded and what left was an empty husk without a soul.

[You have gained 1 Exp.]

“What have you done!” Herakles shouted. Grabbing Rohan by the back of his chainmail and threw him a couple feet off the ground.

It took Rohan by surprise, and before he knew it his body plopped on the ground, rolling a few times before coming to a stop. He spitted out the dirt that got caught in his mouth as his eyes glare at Herakles.

Rohan got up and wiped off the dirt and drool around his lips. It was disgusting but he couldn’t complain over what was happening right now.

“You killed a child!” Herakles said as the dead goblin rested in his arms.

“For the second time, it’s not a child,” Rohan said. “It’s a fucking goblin, and this forest is where it lives. So if I were you, I would get up and prepare for more of them.”

“Murderer,” Herakles said as Rohan’s words went into his left ear and then out to his right.

“I had high hope for you,” Rohan shook his head. “But I guess you can’t really judge someone from their looks alone.”

Rohan lightly sighed and glanced at the cleric. The man who confessed to loving angels was now staring in a daze at the dead Simon. “Cleric,” Rohan called. Yet the cleric did not even budge.

Rohan grabbed the cleric by his tunic and pulled him close to his face. “You’re my only hope of getting out of here alive, so please get up on your feet,” he said.

“But, mi-mi-milord,” the cleric stuttered. “The knight. I can’t save him.” Tears started to dwell in the eyes of this cleric who was close to reaching his mid-thirties.

Rohan gave a slight glance at the dead Simon. His heart felt heavy, but there was nothing he could do over such facts. The dead stayed dead. And for he, who still lived, he needed to move forward. The grip over the cleric’s tunic loosened and Rohan knelt on one knee in front of the dead body. He closed Simon’s eyes and prayed for his departed soul. Who knows, perhaps Simon would have the luck of experiencing living another life like him.

“What’s your name, cleric,” Rohan asked.

“Giotto, milord,” Giotto answered.

“You’ve tried your best, Giotto,” Rohan said. “And Simon would have never blamed you.”

He removed the chainmail and the plate armor from Simon. It was an unsavory act to do to an acquaintance, but survival was at stake here. The chain mail was given to Giotto after much persuasion from Rohan. While the sword was kept for himself.

“If you want to survive, use the plate armor,” Rohan said. His voice was loud for Herakles to hear. The plate armor owned by Simon was placed neatly beside the dead Simon in case Herakles had a change of mind. Deep down he wished the man from Greco Island would man up and face the dungeon.

Rohan and Giotto left Herakles behind and delved further into the pine forest. They threaded their way through the forest floor, snapping every dried branch and twig under the soles of their boots. Pine cones dotted the ground like spilled trinkets, with the earthly smell of decomposing leaves reminded him of the forest close to the castle. Back in his younger days, he used to go there accompanying his father for a hunt. But now, he favored the company of women on his bed rather than shooting arrows in the woods. In a way, he changed after knowing his friend down there could stand up again. Who could blame him? It was an internet-less word.

[Rohan Prynne][Lv.1]

[Race: Human]

[Class: Slavemancer]

[HP: 18/20]

[EP: 6/10]

[MP: 10/10]

[Strength: 4]

[Endurance: 5]

[Defense: 1]

[Dexterity: 5]

[Arcane: 6]

[Willpower: 4]

[Perception: 5]

[Charisma: 13]

[Points available: 5]

Looking through his stats, he wondered what he should do about point distribution. It wasn’t like he had a conventional class where the point allocation was obvious. Since he was a slavemancer, he deduced it might be close to the mage-like class. But with his skill set, he doubted he could use it to survive through this dungeon. And with Herakles missing in the picture, Rohan had no other choice but to take the vanguard position.

“I just hope I’m not dying over this,” Rohan said. He distributed his points; two to strength, two to endurance, and one to defense.

[Rohan Prynne][Lv.1]

[Race: Human]

[Class: Slavemancer]

[HP: 32/34]

[EP: 10/14]

[MP: 12/12]

[Strength: 6]

[Endurance: 7]

[Defense: 2]

[Dexterity: 5]

[Arcane: 6]

[Willpower: 4]

[Perception: 5]

[Charisma: 13]

[Points available: 0]

“Well that’s interesting,” he muttered. The huge bump in health points was a big surprise to him. A single point was enough to add another ten points which was a big deal to him. “But looking at endurance point, I don’t think Defense has any effect on it.”

“Milord,” Giotto called.

Rohan felt a tug over his left sleeve. He glanced and Giotto was looking forward with his pupils quivering. He did the same and saw what made Giotto trembled.

He felt his heart stop for a second there. He had expected to see a bunch of goblins since they were inside a dungeon, but he didn’t expect to see this many at the get-go.

“Here,” Rohan tossed a sword to Giotto and the cleric almost fumbled it to the ground.

“Milord, I don’t know how to use a sword,” Giotto said, panicking.

“You’ll know when they come,” Rohan said, keeping his eyes at the incoming goblins. He unsheathed the sword once owned by Simon, the gleam of the blade reflected his resolute expression.

Five goblins rushed at them with their short strides. From afar, they looked like children running towards an ice-cream truck. But Rohan doubted they would like any other flavors besides bloody red flesh. Yet as they came closer those green skin humanoids had a tad bit of difference compared to the one that ambushed them. “They’re unarmed,” Rohan said.

Their hands were empty. There was no bow, no short sword, nor anything that could be used as a weapon.

“Milord, shouldn’t we run?” Giotto’s trembling voice came from behind Rohan. The man was scared in his boots. If two goblins could kill a knight, he did not want to imagine what five of them were capable to do.

“Stand your ground,” Rohan commanded. “Keep yourself close to my back and on my word, be ready to heal.”

Giotto gulped a mouthful. His hands were trembling like mad with the sword rattling like a cobra’s tail. And Rohan wasn’t that different in terms of his growing anxiety. Despite the bravado he was showing, fighting against five reckless goblins was a first to him. Even sparring with knights was not enough to prepare him for this.

The cackles of goblins grew louder with their steps inching closer. Drools splattered on the ground as the craze eyes of these goblins saw both Rohan and Giotto as nothing more than mere food on a plate.

Rohan exhaled a long breath, focusing his mind on what was about to come. He relaxed his grip over the hilt as the words of the Master-at-Arms echoed at the back of his mind. ‘Keep your grip loose, and tighten it when going for the strike.’

The goblin charged forward without a care. It lunged itself baring its dirty claws with its foul stench taking the first hit, drilling through Rohan’s nostrils.

Rohan frowned and met the creature with his blade. The sharp edge flew sideways, thirsting for blood. His hand gripped tight and strength flowed through his arm.

He struck the goblin’s neck and went halfway in. The green humanoid staggered and fumbled bringing along Rohan with its weight. Yet it was a risky moment. One fell and the rest of them ganged up on him. His hand was quick. He let go of the sword and grabbed the hilt of his dagger, resting on the side of his boiled leather belt. The short blade slid from its sheath and immediately drew blood. A wild swing cut every goblin in a random place. It was a haphazard attack, but it did its job well.

The four goblins retreated a few steps, wary of this dagger-wielding human. Slowly, they fanned out and circled the lone human.

‘Wait? Where the heck is Giotto?’ a late realization as looking to his back, the cleric was no longer there. Giotto must have fled when Rohan took the first swing. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath. Things were not looking good for him as there were four more of these ugly creatures.

By then, he was surrounded on all sides. The goblins stood there, glaring at him with their yellow eyes full of wild hatred. They shouted and screamed at him with their high-pitch voice like cackles of hyenas. Some of them swung their claws at him as an act of intimidation. And not gonna lie, it kinda worked. Despite their shortness, Rohan knew well that he was in a disadvantageous position.

[You have gained 1 Exp.]

It seemed the goblin on the ground finally died. Rohan’s eyes wandered slowly at these goblins, but before he could make a full turn, one of them attacked. A goblin pounced, throwing its whole body at Rohan. It was a full-frontal attack, devoid of any trickery from the blind spot.

Rohan countered and struck a blow right at the gaunt chest of the goblin. The metal edge tore through the muscles and punctured right through the lung. The goblin struggled for a few seconds, clawing at Rohan in its last dying breath. He grunted over the shallow wounds on his cheek. Then Rohan pushed the goblin away, dislodging his dagger.

[You have gained 1 Exp.]

Yet he screamed the minute he pushed the goblin away. Looking down, a goblin ambushed him and bit him on the thigh. Blood seeped down his pants dyeing them with his crimson blood. He swung hard and the dagger stabbed right through the left eye. The eye burst into a gush of viscous fluid followed by the reddish liquid.

[You have gained 1 Exp.]

The bite loosened. But Rohan did not have the freedom to throw it away. What was left of the goblins went for a two-prong attack. They bared their claws and crooked yellow teeth, and before Rohan could react, the pain came to him first.

His scream echoed through the forest. A bite from behind right at his left calf. He felt the goblin’s teeth sinking through his flesh as it tried to tear it away. At the same time, the claws of another goblin clashed against his chain mail. The sharp annoying sound pierced through his ear as the goblin shredded the front of his tunic while its nails were rendered useless against the metal ring mail.

Rohan let go of the stuck dagger and let his fist do the talking. A hook smashed against the goblin’s head who stood in front of him, and the creature immediately went down, eating dirt.

While the pain from downstairs was still screaming in his head. Out of desperation, he did the unthinkable. His fingers pierced through the eyes of the goblin that was biting him. And the outcome was not what he expected.

A shrill scream escaped through his mouth as unknowingly a speck of tear rolled down his cheek. The goblin was no longer biting him along with a missing chunk of his calf. Bright crimson flesh entered his sight as blood dripped down from the nasty bite wound. His blood boiled seeing his inside exposed out in the world.

He grabbed the stuck sword on the goblin corpse and stood before the goblin, who was rolling on the ground, covering its eyes. “Die,” he uttered under his breath. A downward slash and the force beheaded the goblin cleanly at the neck.

[You have gained 1 Exp.]

He stood before the dead goblin, glaring at it with intense hate. Yet the fight hadn’t ended. A goblin jumped on his back as he forgot about the one he punched to the ground. The hate clouded his judgment and it came with a cost. The goblin swiftly bit down right at his exposed neck.

A new brand of pain pulsated straight to his brain, and he reacted. He twisted the pommel of the sword and by instinct alone, he stabbed it backward. The blade was just an inch away from his throat as he felt the resistance of the goblin’s flesh. He hit his mark and he pushed it further. The pressure of the bite lessened and then came the message.

[You have gained 1 Exp.]

The limp corpse fell off from his shoulder and yet something else worried him. “Ah, fuck,” he said. Blood was spurting out from his neck like a sprinkler. His hand pressed over the bite wound on his neck as he could feel the warm blood against his palm. Unfortunately for him, that asshole goblin just bit through his jugular.

“Oh, shit,” he said. His vision suddenly turned blurry, and a sudden weakness took hold of him. He knelt on the ground and barely kept himself not to fall. And at the corner of his eyes, blood trickled like an almost closed water tap. He took off his hand and saw it was soaked in blood.

By chance, his thought willed him to open his status window.

[Rohan Prynne][Lv.1][Bleeding]

[Race: Human]

[Class: Slavemancer]

[HP: 18/34]

[EP: 4/14]

[MP: 12/12]

[Strength: 6]

[Endurance: 7]

[Defense: 2]

[Dexterity: 5]

[Arcane: 6]

[Willpower: 4]

[Perception: 5]

[Charisma: 13]

[Points available: 0]

His health points were dwindling and the ‘bleeding’ condition was not left unnoticed. But despite knowing, what else he could do? He wasn’t a cleric nor was he blessed with great vitality. After two bites he was now tethering to the gate of the underworld. Gradually his vision darkened, followed by his body falling towards the ground.

“Milord!”

Yet a distant voice knocked at his eardrums while he was slowly losing consciousness. He felt the warmth of a person touching his skin that was rapidly getting colder.

“Small Heal! Small Heal! Small Heal!…” the shout of a desperate man as Giotto held Rohan in his arms. He continuously used Small Heal as he apologized fervently for leaving Rohan behind. “Forgive me, milord. Forgive me…” Giotto said.

The cleric’s recovery skill fought back against the ‘bleeding’ condition as the number of health points went up and down, trying to keep the young lord alive. By luck, the closed eyes of Rohan opened once more. The young man saw Giotto desperately trying to save him. But looking at that face which was losing hope, he thought he was better off unconscious like before. There was nothing more painful than hoping for false hope.

“Forgive me, milord,” Giotto said. “I can’t do it. I can’t do it like the angels.” He spoke through his gut feeling as if he could feel his MP was close to running dry.

Yet a strong grip clutched him by the collar. With the last of his strength, Rohan pulled him closer to his lips as he whispered these words. “I have a way . . . But do you dare do it?” Rohan asked.

“I will, milord!” Giotto answered. The man couldn’t let another person die in front of him, not after having the ability to keep them alive. The responsibility he felt in being able to follow the path of angels was something he took seriously. “I will do whatever you say!”

Then Rohan uttered these words that he would never believe coming out from his mouth.

“Be my slave, Giotto.”