The horses neighed and spat, their hooves moving in a frenzy as the wooden carts rattled loudly at their backs. The drivers snapped the reins, their hands red and hot from the friction as they controlled their steeds. Noise of howls and shouts, barks and yelps filled the air as the Frontier bared its fangs. The night was young, the moon still not even cresting the midway point of its arc. The stars watched on like laughing nobles as the commoners fled for their lives. Time was ticking and their patience was running thin as their greed for Human despair burbled forth. The twinkling lights were parched and their thirst for blood had yet to be quenched.
The monsters, children of carnal desire, raged on. Energized by the desperation in the eyes of the Humans they chased, the Wolves howled, the Goblins laughed and snarled, but they refused to rush in foolishly. For in the midst of it all, a single entity remained cold as ice. An unflappable warrior met their frenzied rage with precise violence. A needle of controlled hate that stitched their deaths together with smooth swings of his blade. Bodies of slaughtered creatures littered the road in his wake, dispatched swiftly and immediately forgotten as the carts rattled unimpeded.
The air was thick with the scent of blood. Their attacks thus far proved wasteful as their numbers continued to be whittled out and their failures piled up. Worst of all, the Goblins were learning what true fear was. After watching their brethren be cut down, burned, and torn apart so mercilessly right before their eyes, many began to think twice before showing their faces before those glowing blue eyes. That stoic expression. Those blood stained clothes. That unflinching, unshaking blade. The steady and tamed breathing of a beast. He was different from any other Adventurer they had ever seen before.
He wasn’t even smiling.
In all of their previous ambushes, the caravans they raided responded largely out of fright and desperation when they came under attack. Those Humans were easy to conquer and overcome with numbers. Strategy was never a worry because the Humans were never capable enough to truly defend themselves if the Goblins attacked in earnest. A simple ambush was generally enough to put those Adventurers on the back foot. On special occasions, the Goblins might send the Hobs in for extra muscle. Otherwise, it was just a matter of wearing them out or drowning them in a sea of green.
The Goblins had seen great success in many raids because of that. Sometimes they lost whenever a veteran Adventurer showed up but their victories far outnumbered their losses. And those losses were easily recouped through the plentiful use of any women that might be amongst their prey. Due to that, the Dens were prospering and spreading through the Frontier. It was amazing! The freedom and power they felt was intoxicating!
However this was different. There were only two carts and three humans, two of which were non-combatants. Only one was armed with anything that the Goblins considered dangerous. Even with so few humans and the lack of proper protection, the carts were brimming with supplies! There were crates full of stuff, stacked to the limit! It should have been an easy task, overcoming that one Human and then stealing away all of those lovely looking goodies! The horses smelled delicious, too! Their powerful, thick bodies showed their premier breeding and their pedigree. Such fine meat could sustain a den for weeks!
However this was different! That Human. That one measly Human was like a wraith. He was fast, so fast! His hands were so nimble too. He made things appear out of thin air that could tear off a limb, burn out an eye, or blow a hole in one’s chest! His sword never seemed to dull no matter how many Goblins he cut. That shield was made of fine material and showed no signs of cracking no matter how many times they stabbed or hammered it! The Human himself never seemed to tire, slow down, or miss a step. No matter how many Goblins they threw at him, he reacted the same. No hesitation. No second guess. No fear.
He rushed forward, dove into their numbers, and slaughtered. He countered their poisoned arrows with blasts of wind. He tore off the limbs of their precious Wolves to immobilize their Riders. He shielded the carts with rock and flame to prevent them from being boarded. If they wounded him, there was hardly a drop of blood that leaked from the injury! The pesky armor beneath his clothes protected him from their claws and teeth and their feeble weapons never could quite get a good bite on him. He was nimble and slick, like a fish moving through rapids. Hard to trap and even harder to catch!
Several dens had tried their hands at attacking the caravan but were thwarted time and time again, the evidence of their failures staining the soil of the Frontier and littering the road with wailing casualties. But, that was all to change. The Goblins were learning but most of all, they were becoming angry. Angry at that Human for killing so many of them. Angry at those horses for not slowing down. Angry at those drivers for not panicking! Angry at that Human for being so difficult to bring down! Angry! Angry! Angry!
And hungry to see Him bleed.
Usually the Goblins would keep to their own territory, to their own den areas. Though greedy and always looking for an opportunity to expand or steal, the Goblin dens understood one another. Some were larger than others with more numbers and experience. Some had more resources, some had less, but they all wanted the same thing here--to take over the peninsula and conquer the settlements of the Council Races. Sharing and trade was beginning to develop between the Frontier Dens as their intelligence developed, but territory disputes still occurred very often. Especially in times like this when prey might run into the border of another den.
However… This was different. That sole Human had drenched the Frontier in the blood of their kin. Every den that attacked reeled from the attempt and the Human’s unphased expression fueled their desire to ruin him. They wished to cut his limbs, to hear him scream, and to watch his face distort with pain and agony. They all did. Thus, as the cart rolled forward, a sense of unity began to spread through the forest. Cries for aid echoed. Shouts of strategy filtered through the trees.
The Goblins would have their revenge.
Jake’s eyes narrowed as he noticed a shift in the fighting.
“Are we almost out?!” Randal yapped, his brow knit tight as his teeth clenched. His hands clutched the leather reins, clinging to them for some semblance of a distraction from the fighting. There were a few close calls so far, the blood splatters on his bench seat were evidence of that, but he refused to let himself die here. The Adventurer was proving his name with every skirmish and Randal was starting to believe they might actually make it out alive.
“No.” Jake answered curtly. “Not by a long shot.” The battle mage twirled his spell sword then turned to check on their second cart.
The second driver was following instructions. Bailey kept the cart close, barely five meters off the tail of the lead to give their caravan as short of a profile as possible. Keeping them close meant Jake could react quickly to attacks on both ends. The short distance covered the time it would take for his magic to move back and forth, allowing him to block ranged attacks on both drivers and horses from the front cart. The only issue was the dust. If the second cart drifted to the left, the right, or back too far then the horse would get a face full of it. Which meant while Randal was stressing over the fighting and keeping his cart steady, Bailey also had the extra strain of accuracy with his driving to keep his cart in that slim window of safety.
They wouldn’t last much longer at this pace. Neither the drivers would be up to doing so without a mistake nor would the horses be capable of pushing without exhausting. Unlike in a tunnel or in the forest itself, there was no running down a side route or escaping from sight when there was nowhere to hide on the road. Leaving the carts for safety in a cave was a no-go, as the Goblins would steal their cargo. Cutting the horses loose as a distraction would of course leave them stranded. Turning back was also out of the question.
…Jake tapped his teeth together and scanned the treeline. The Goblins were moving with them still, their small and beady eyes glinting in the faint moonlight as they raced through the trees. The Riders were missing but he could still hear their distant howls as they moved about, likely attempting to coordinate another attack. But, Jake felt that something was off. The Goblins weren’t rushing them anymore, not in their typical feral manner. Rather the attacks were only in large, organized groups and at relatively even intervals. The Goblins were mobbing together, then rushing in one massive wave to try and overwhelm his magic.
“Randal, stop the cart!” Jake barked. He stepped onto a higher crate and ordered the same to Bailey.
“What?! Why!” Randal looked over his shoulder, his eyes flaring open.
“Do it!” Jake retorted. He gripped the strap of his shield and braced himself as Randal yanked on the reins.
The horse shouted its protest but the cart slowed to a stop. The second rolled to a halt right behind the first, tucking in close as instructed. Jake climbed to the highest point of the crates and blew open his Sensory Magic to get a read on their surroundings. All around them, dozens of mana signatures spilled out of the dark. A mix of faint purple colors dyed the blue and black veil in a gross color, mixing with the darkness in a miasma of foul intention. Jake felt his teeth instinctively press together as his blood ran cold. There were more than fifty Goblins on foot, all frothing at the mouth to get a taste of the caravan and pillage the spoils. Worst of all, even more were still coming to join the fight. They could have run through it, but Jake could see similar numbers being built ahead of them to cut them off. The horde inched towards the road, spreading out and slowly cinched tight the noose around the caravan’s neck.
Randal and Bailey both looked at their stalwart protector, fingers wrapped tightly around the only thing that they could consider a weapon at the current time--the reins. At the word, they were ready to snap back into action, to get the carts rolling and get themselves out of the fire they were broiling in. But, they weren’t cowards. They wouldn’t run so easily. Only if He told them to. Like soldiers waiting for orders from their commander, they sat in an uneasy silence. Sweat stained their shirts and their arms glistened with it from the effort of controlling the horses. Just like the horses, the drivers felt the fatigue of the long ride.
Jake squeezed down on the hilt of his sword and took in a slow breath. The time to make his decision passed, he needed to get the jump on the Goblins. His mana flow bristled and the sensation tickled his skin as he burned through an entire tail of mana in a handful of seconds. Coiling the power through his body, Jake shifted strategies. There was no time to engage the Goblins in close quarters and he would lose his charge if he did. The monsters were on both sides of the road and in equally dangerous numbers. If Jake picked a side then the other would simply attack the caravan behind him. The Goblins essentially dared him to choose. Either abandon the caravan or stand there and try to fend them off all at once.
A terrible conundrum to be in. Good thing Jake didn’t care about the landscape.
“Heads down!” Jake shouted. Rather than question him, the drivers covered their heads and curled into their seats, attempting to protect themselves as much as possible.
Then. The sky fell.
Dozens of massive Stone Breakers whistled as they pierced the forest canopy and careened into the Frontier floor. Translucent and nearly entirely clear, the Wind Spells distorted the night sky with their numbers. Tree limbs caught in their downward path were split, shattered, and splintered as they were torn apart. The trees themselves exploded as the spells bore through, their upper halves tilting and falling with tremendous weight onto the feeble Goblins caught below. Bush and brush scattered with the dirt and sand as the ground was cratered. Massive holes appeared at each impact point, the very earth itself shattering apart in a frightening display of ruthless eradication. The powerful winds exploding out of the magic canisters in their core sent shrapnel flying in every direction, shredded flesh of the Goblins near the explosive centers, and scattered dirt and dust into the air.
The spells fell with no sound, no trigger, and no warning. Only the movement of Jake’s eyes as he released his wrath gave away his attack. His mana flow ebbed and he felt a slight pain behind his eyes as his mind strained beneath the mountainous effort. Handling so many spells at once, even at his level, was taxing. He could feel his breathing threaten to hiccup and his mana flow throbbed, trying to keep up with the exertion. Yet, he did not waver. This was the proper response, the right answer. The only answer. Much like handling Maedra, it was easier to wipe them out in a massive attack all at once.
The landscape changed in moments as the Goblins were forced to scatter for their lives. All around the road, the green forest was decimated, replaced by a wasteland of debris and corpses. Jake hammered the Goblin numbers, killing every single moving body he could catch. A saturation attack that handled the Goblin problem with overwhelming power, wiping out their entire force. Those that weren’t hit directly were either maimed by the exploding trees, torn up by the deadly gusts, or smashed beneath the falling logs. After the initial volley, Jake utilized Wind Cones to mop up the survivors that were clambering through the resulting debris field.
A lull followed and Jake capitalized on it. He jumped down from his cart and sheathed his blade. As the drivers recovered, Jake ordered them to drink water while he tended to the horses. The front horse was terrified, shaking in his hooves as the world around him spun. Jake tried to calm the animal with a few pats to the head but the horse would have none of it. He was too on edge and far too gone to truly respond to the affectionate brushing. Thus, Jake focused on his task and let the horse calm down on his own. Utilizing Light magic, Jake performed a brief check over the horse.
He first familiarized himself with the horse’s body, gathering the necessary information to perform recovery magic on the animal. He checked over the horse’s circulatory system, the muscles, the organs, and also sorted out the horse’s mana flow. Though it was small and faint, the horse still had one, reflecting how all living creatures had traces of it in them. Jake pushed just a bit of his mana into the system to see how the horse would react, testing its compatibility with his magic. The flow remained stable and the muscles he touched reacted positively.
“Good.” He brushed his hands over the horse’s side, feeding mana into the animal to tend to the weary and exhausted muscles. They were sturdy and taught, but Jake could feel the acidic buildup in them. They had been moving for a long time without a break at a brisk pace. If it weren’t for their pedigree, the horses likely would’ve given out several miles back. Fear, adrenaline, and strong cardiovascular health had kept the horses in the fight.
Jake tended to the front horse first, giving the stallion plenty of attention to ensure he would be ready for the next round of racing. Then, he went to the mare. Unlike the stallion, she was more soft tempered and, though she was clearly tired, she wasn’t rattled. Her soft, cream colored body stood firm in the road, her eyes blinking slowly as she observed the Human she had been staring at for a long extent of their trip. She had watched him fight and she was very accepting of his hands.
“Good girl,” Jake muttered to the mare, stroking her nose as she huffed at him. He conjured a ball of water and offered her a drink, giving her plenty of time to relax and recuperate naturally before he set to his work. She hadn’t been injured by the Goblins or the Wolves but the strain on her was more severe. She was a bit smaller than the stallion and her muscles weren’t as developed. Yet, she had kept up well and was ready for more.
“How are the horses?” Randal asked, having finished with his drink. Bailey was right behind him.
“They’re ready. Do you know of any safe havens we can get to?” Though the horses would be fine for another stretch, he didn’t want to push them so hard again. If they could find a place to stop and rest, that would be ideal.
“This is Goblin Valley, friend. Nowhere is safe ‘till we get to the intersection.” Randal motioned to Bailey who climbed up into his cart. He fished around in his bag then pulled out a map of the frontier. They unfurled the parchment and laid it down on the ground.
“We left the village around midday and haven’t stopped. I know we’ve been moving at a quick clip too, so we’ve covered a lot of ground. If I’m right, we’re somewhere around… here.” Randal picked up a twig from the ground and used it as a pointer.
Seeing where he pointed at, Bailey let out a hum. He too grabbed a twig and pointed at the map, but closer to the village. “Nah, we ain’t gon’ that far. Ain’t no way we’re that close. We only been runnin’ fer a few hours, Rand. We barely trotted most of the afternoon too.”
“That’s true.” Randal mumbled, tapping the twig against the ground. “Either way, we probably won’t reach safety until the afternoon tomorrow. And only if we keep this pace the whole way, which I don’t think is smart.”
“Neither do I,” Jake stared at the map and pressed his lips together, annoyed by the current problem. The monsters would continue to attack through the night and might even continue in the morning. There was nothing saying the monsters couldn’t be out during the day, they just preferred to sleep during it. If there was prey to be hunted, then they would be active. So Jake needed to be ready for that.
“We can’t stop here, I know that.” Randal sighed and stood up, looking across the road towards the destroyed forest. “They’ll be attracted to this mess you made.”
“Guess we gotta keep goin’ then.” Bailey huffed as he placed his hands on his hips. “Ain’t no way around it, fellahs.”
“Dammit,” Randal groaned. “I really hate this place, man.”
“Yah, we all do, Rand. Tha’s why we always come with lots’a guards, but it is what it is. We out here now!” Bailey let out an uneasy laugh as he picked up the map to roll it up. He tied it shut with a small string then went to put it away. “Least we get paid well!”
“Money don’t mean shit if you’re dead!” Randal spat back, rolling his eyes before looking towards Jake. Seeing the troubled expression on their one source of protection caught the driver’s attention. “What’s on your mind?”
The Adventurer was still staring at the ground where the map was, his eyes unblinking as his mind toiled over what to do next. Push on? Hunker down? Go ahead of the carts and hunt the Goblins? Or, turn back and ask for help? They were in a lull and the Goblins were likely expecting them to continue forward, so the rear would be void of most dangers. If they turned around and headed back to the village, Jake could request additional help to retry the run at a later time. He could also come back alone, clear out the dens, then call the carts forward and run through without much issue.
The problem with that would be time. Forgetting the Guild Caravan, the Soldiers in the Fort needed these potions and the delivery would come just in time to replenish their supplies. If Jake played the long game by turning around and then hunting the Goblin dens here, the Fort was likely to run out of supplies. As a consequence, the soldiers and knights there would likely fall to the monsters assaulting them from the Harpy controlled zone. There wasn’t enough time to take things slow and carefully like he wanted to. Now that they were out here and having alerted the Goblins, either choice would lead to difficulty.
“Hey.” Randal called out and patted Jake on the shoulder, snapping the man from his mental spiral. “We push on. You’ve kept us safe this far with that incredible magic. Trust us to drive these carts, and we’ll trust you to keep us alive. We’ll go as far as we need to, yea?” Randal offered a smile, hoping to dispel the tension that they all felt. There was some fear in his eyes along with some doubt, but Randal wasn’t lying. He trusted Jake.
So, Jake would trust him. “Alright. We’ll push to the sunrise and decide what to do then. If we have to take a break at the intersection where it’s safer, we’ll take an extra day to rest.”
“Got it.”
“Sounds like a plan!”
The drivers both agreed and gave Jake their supportive grins. The men mounted the carts and the horses huffed with strength. The reins snapped and the powerful hooves set the carts in motion. The caravan set off again, rolling to a steady gallop and then a little bit passed. Jake gripped onto his shield’s handle and squeezed it firmly in his fingers, his mind still whirling over the possibilities he might face. However, not even after a hundred meters, the sounds of howling Wolves interrupted his worried mind. The breath of the horses steamed as they raced forward into the fray awaiting them. The drivers kept the carts centered on the road, charging back into the teeth of the Frontier.
“Magic? Or sword?” Jake’s mind ticked over the choice as he scanned the treeline. He didn’t count the mana signatures this time but there were dozens of them. Goblins were spilling out of their caves for a chance to get a bite at the high valued threat rolling through their territory.
Choosing magic would change the landscape, much like in his last attack. Dealing with such an incredible number with an equal level of magic would decimate the forest unless Jake was surgical with his casting. But using individual attacks would require a level of precision he doubted he could keep up for an extended period. Which sent him down another dangerous thread of thinking.
If the fight was expected to drag on for hours, could he really keep up this pace? Could he really handle this many? Or would his mana burn out before then? Juggling from offensive magic to defensive magic wasn’t exhausting but it was taxing. Add in the need to utilize recovery magic almost constantly and Jake was certain even his pool of mana would dry up at some point. It wasn’t bottomless.
Maybe I should’ve asked for help.
The seed of doubt sprouted and Jake’s stomach twisted. His eyes narrowed sharply as the mere thought brought rage to his mind. He had made this decision. This was the consequence of his choices. This was his problem to solve. He was confident in his abilities and he still was. Turning back on those choices, doubting himself, second guessing, and giving up were all excuses. Regardless of how he felt or how incapable he might be, this was a job that needed to be done. They needed to get through this gauntlet and they needed to reach their destination. If not for their own survival, then they needed to do it for the men who were waiting for their cargo.
Of all the options available to him, failure wasn’t one of them. Such a moment reminded him of his battles in the Ravine, where failure might cost him lives. He might not have been fully prepared to fight the Maedra then, and he certainly wasn’t always perfect with his victories, but he never allowed himself to run away. After his failure during that initial operation, Jake faced the Maedra with every intention of either achieving victory, or dying. Even at the very end when Ewana was burning, turning his back on those people wasn’t ever on the table.
This was no different. These drivers were relying on him for their safety and the men waiting for them were in need of the potions beneath his feet. If he ran out of magic then he would have to rely on his swords. If his swords broke then he would use his knives. If they dulled then he would use his fists. Until his very last breath, he would struggle. If he could fight, he could win. It was just a matter of how.
"Tough, isn't it?" A familiar voice tickled his ear and for a second, Jake thought he saw a ghost. The glimmer of a figure in the corner of his eyes calmed his racing thoughts. When he blinked, the shadow was gone.
A feeble smile appeared on his face as the corners of his lips curled. “...Yea.” Jake mumbled, taking in a slow breath. Steadying his heart, calming the storm of insecurity.
"Don't let up. If you want to live, give it all you've got.”
The cool air hit his face. He had been here before. This wasn’t anything new. Just like in the Ravine when the Maedra were on every side. He might have been alone here but he wasn’t by himself. Not by any means. All he had to do was focus, think, and be confident. Keep his breathing. Keep his wits. Trust in the drivers. Trust in his training and his practice. Trust in himself.
Jake sheathed the spell blade and instead drew his Elven sword. It was light in his hands, much lighter, like a feather. The hilt curved perfectly to his palm and practically hugged his fingers. He gave the weapon a single twist, cutting the air with the edge of the blade with the snap of his wrist. The weapon drew out his mana, the edge of the blade glowing faintly in the dim light of the moon.
"You won't always get the chance to rest, kid."
The Goblins emerged from the treeline, diving forward with their weapons at the ready. Their golden eyes were open wide, their jaws hanging as drool and spittle leaked from their hungry mouths. Dead set on rushing the caravan, they abandoned all reason and charged--Right into Jake’s magic. A barrage of Wind Cones smashed into their bodies, tearing them to pieces. The carts rolled through the middle of the carnage, horses unphased by the scene around them. Already used to the desolation they bore witness to. The drivers remained focused as well, driving straight and center to give Jake the most room to work.
Arrows fired from the treeline met a similar blast of wind, shattering them in the air before Jake responded with a ranged strike of his own. Pulling mana from the air, Jake sapped the world of fuel as he supplemented his mana flow with the natural source. His spells increased in volume but his accuracy slipped. Rather than trying to kill everything in one strike, Jake shifted to maiming and knocking the Goblins out of the fight. If he could blow off a limb, he considered it a victory as the Goblins would collapse out of the pain. By the time they’d recover, the carts would be long gone.
The howls of wolves pierced the night as the Riders returned. A coordinated attack this time as they emerged from the forest in force. Over a dozen, nearly twenty riders emerged, and some carried more than one Goblin. They raced out of the trees and immediately surrounded the carts on both sides, causing Jake to react accordingly.
“Shit!” Randal bellowed, tugging the reins as his horse was encroached on by one of the Riders.
Unable to prep the ground from his high point, Jake saturated the road with Fire Spells. Spears of flame tore through the air, searing through flesh and fur as he blew apart the racing threats. The exploding runes knocked the Goblins off their tumbling Wolves and either cast them aside into the forest, or they were run over by the carts and the second horse. Jake cleared the path ahead first, then targeted the wolves near the second horse to protect their steeds. Then, he worked on the Goblins attempting to hijack the carts or climb onto them.
The intense heat mixed with the precise casting caused the Goblin Riders to pull away from the carts, the Riders attempting to move into more safe angles that they could use to attack from. Except, that only made it easier to target them. Jake switched to Wind Cones and tore into the Wolves, disabling or killing them quickly. If he couldn’t hit the Wolves, he hit the Goblins. A few were able to jump onto the front cart but Jake dispatched them swiftly with his sword.
The path ahead cleared quickly but Jake was forced to move to the rear cart to deal with the remaining Riders. Those at the back used the second cart as a shield, hiding from Jake’s sight or avoiding his magic entirely by ducking behind the cart. When he moved, though, there no longer was anywhere to hide. They screeched and raced for the cart to try and board it only for their bodies to be torn into, or their Wolves to be knocked out from beneath them.
A loud yell called for Jake’s immediate attention. “Barricade!”
A hundred meters ahead of them, across the road, the Goblins had dropped several trees to block the path. Hobgoblins were ripping the massive trunks out of the ground and were pulling them down to create an impassable obstacle for the carts. The Goblins, knowing the carts only had one road they could use, had thought ahead and prepared a trap should they fail to stop them beforehand.
Jake sucked his teeth and moved back to the front cart. Stopping wasn’t an option but neither was tearing up the road. Which meant he needed to move quickly.
“Don’t stop, yes?!”
“Got it!” Randal snapped the reins and continued straight, the carts barrelling towards the tipped over trees.
Goblins lined the roads, their weapons ready as they prepared to pounce once the carts stopped at their masterful trap. The Hobs continued their work, trying to add to the debris quickly in order to make the obstacle even more impassable. With each tree, the chance of escape decreased tremendously. They would feast tonight! The plan was foolproof!
But Jake was no fool. The man hopped off the cart then accelerated forward, out pacing the carts and leaving them behind briefly so he could deal with the obstacle. Destroying the ground wasn’t possible. He couldn’t blow the trees out of the way either, as there was no telling where they’d go. With no time to burn them, there was only one choice left. The Goblins watched as the man landed on top of their trees and stared in disbelief as he planted his hands firmly down on one of the logs. Mana poured into the earth, the rock trembling beneath his touch.
If they couldn’t go over them, then they would have to go under.
The ground quaked and began to crack. The Goblins lining the road staggered and flailed, struggling to keep their balance as Jake emptied another mana tail’s work of fuel into the floor. Taking a stranglehold of the rock, Jake ripped the ground free and pushed it upwards. The trees shook and wobbled, so Jake curved the edges of the barricade to keep the logs from rolling away. The Goblins, realizing what he was doing, shouted at one another and charged him in an attempt to kill him before his work was finished.
Ready for their retaliation, the ground broke apart beneath their feet and dozens of stone spikes impaled the Goblin lot from below. Those that weren’t pierced were blocked, forced to watch as Jake erected a massive cliff in the middle of the road itself. A wide arch formed in the center as Jake broke out the middle and he used wind magic to knock the rocks out of the way, producing a path through the center that the carts could fit through. The ground was rough but he softened it then used water magic to drench the harsh dirt, making it smoother across the top layer. Not thick enough to make mud but enough for the carts to roll over cleanly.
“Fuck.” Jake grunted, pulling his hands from the ground as he wobbled to his feet. The intense expenditure caused a shock of pain to rip through his skull, his mind reeling from the heavy load. His mana flow whined and he could feel his reserves buckling. He had four mana tails left and his mana source was working to replace the burnt mana. At this pace, he really would run out.
Angered by their trap being thwarted, the Hobgoblins roared and swung their heavy arms, breaking through the spikes lining the road to clear their own path. The bodies of the dead or dying Goblins were smacked out of the way and the Hobs rumbled forth. With just their bare hands, they charged the Human. There were five of them. Two from his left, three from his right, and they sported muscles that Jake could never compete with.
The first came with a heavy fist raised and threw it square towards Jake’s face. It was a heavy punch with plenty of deadly strength but it was slow and lumbering. Easy to avoid and even easier to counter as Jake hacked his sword into the meaty arm. Splitting sinew and taut fibers, Jake sliced off the lower half of the arm, cutting just below the elbow. Blood and fat spurted out of the wound as arteries and veins sputtered. The Hob wailed in agony, reeling from the injury.
Jake used his shield to block another punch but the heavy impact vibrated through his forearm. The sensation numbed the limb and he lost feeling in his fingers. The man grunted and winced, but moved swiftly to pay back the favor. His blade stabbed forward, piercing the Hob’s fat stomach then sliced to the right, cutting a deep gash in the tender belly. Nothing spilled out but there was plenty of blood. He moved out of the way of a retaliatory kick and used magic to blast a hole in the Hob’s side. This time, he struck gold as organ meat became exposed to the air of the Overworld.
Two Hobs attacked in unison, one from each side. Jake stepped out of the way of one fist then used his shield to deflect another, knocking the Hobs into each other. Their massive, tumbling frames crashed together and toppled over onto the Hob Jake had just put a hole in. As they fell, Jake turned back to the Hob who was missing half of an arm then used a powerful gust of Wind Magic to blow him out of the road. The Hob flew across, crashing into a group of five smaller Goblins before rolling into the treeline.
The carts rolled by a moment later, rushing into the cleared path that Jake had made. The raging fifth Hob threw a fist at Jake and Jake intercepted it with his shield, the hammering fist causing his forearm to fracture from the powerful impact. Another fist smashed into the shield right after and Jake dropped to a knee beneath the brute strength. When the Hob reeled back for a third swing, Jake triggered a rock spike, skewering the Hob’s chest cavity with the stone spire.
The Goblins began to recover and were recollecting themselves when Jake dashed off, ditching them as he raced after the carts. His left arm was still numb and he could hardly wiggle his fingers. The bones in his forearm were cracked from those hammer fists and would require attention but he wouldn’t be able to deal with it yet. Rather, Jake numbed the pain with his magic for a stop-gap then put his focus on catching up with the carts.
More Goblin Riders emerged, this time in two groups. One group attacked the carts, the other tried to cut Jake off. Eight of them in total, four in a group. Jake wasted no time and used his acceleration to overcome the Wolves. He swept them up in a powerful gust, scattering the Goblins while knocking the Wolves off their feet. Racing ahead as the rear group scattered on the road, Jake lobbed Wind Cones at the four Wolves at the carts. Two struck home, tearing off the back legs of their targets. Others whiffed. One thankfully knocked off a Goblin from his ride but a second Goblin was also on the Wolf.
Three Goblins boarded the cart as Jake caught up and one Wolf tried to nip at the mare. Jake snarled and hopped up into the rear cart, then skipped over the Goblins to take a position between them and the driver. Before he turned to face them, he drilled the Wolf in the face with a Wind Cone, killing it instantly. A Goblin took advantage and jumped onto his arm as he tried to turn. It snarled and bit into his shoulder, its teeth digging through the clothes, leather, and tender flesh. A second latched onto his flank, its claws digging into Jake’s stomach and back as it too tried to take a bite.
“Fuckers!” Jake exclaimed. He curled his left hand into a fist and drove the sharp edge of his shield into the Goblin’s eye socket, bashing the creature in the face to free it from his shoulder. As it whined and recoiled, he punched it again to knock it free. Twirling his sword into a reverse grip, he stabbed the Goblin on his hip through the side, skewering it all the way through. The limb corpse fell off him, tumbling over the edge of the cart and onto the road.
The third Goblin lunged but was met with iron as Jake blocked it with his shield. The creature grabbed the edges of the protective item and tried to yank it free, which send shockwaves of pain radiating up Jake’s arm. The man hissed and reached over, stabbing the Goblin in the shoulder to push it back. Pulling his shield free and opening a lane, Jake slashed the Goblin from the nape of its neck to the base of its ribs, splitting it in half in a flowing slash. He finished off the Goblin he’d bashed in the face with magic, blowing the body off the cart.
“You good?!” Bailey shouted, looking back at Jake for a moment.
“Good enough.” Jake knocked the two halves of the dead Goblin off the cart then looked up to see the four Goblin Riders he’d knocked aside chasing them down. Using his range, Jake blasted them apart quickly, dispatching the threat without even a blink.
“Jake! Another problem!” Randal’s voice echoed into the night again and Jake’s arm throbbed as he thought about having to deal with the Hobs again.
When he turned to see what the issue was, he was faced with something he truly did not want to see.
“Ah….” The exhausted sigh fell reflexively from his throat as his left arm dropped to his side. His right hand remained tight around his sword, but the heavy shoulders slumped.
Standing in the center of the road, blocking their path once more, was a very, very large Goblin. It towered over the road, over the four Hobs standing by its side, and over the dozens of much smaller Goblins cackling by its feet. It wielded a large, mighty club carved from a thick tree and even sported stitched together slabs of leather armor around its forearms, lower legs, and across its belly and chest. It wore no helmet but it had a string of cloth around its shoulders. A red shoulder piece of ornate nature, signifying which Den it belonged to.
A Goblin Champion.
