Chương 8: Goblins

I stepped forward. My heart rate accelerated, and I could feel adrenaline pump through my veins. I wasn't sure whether that was a fear response or genuine excitement. As I walked forward, Sebastian's gaze was glued to me.

"They are all peak Wood Rank," he said.

"Are you sure you can handle them? Make sure to assign your stat points first." I nodded, but ignored him. I didn't know how, but I felt their strength. Not in the sense that I could say what level they were, but rather how they compared to the people I fought. The strongest being the saber-wielding bandit. He was stronger than me, had better technique, and yet I still won. The goblins were weaker than him. And now I had my Mana Manipulation. I wasn't worried.

"We can't let you go through," one of the knights said and moved his horse in front of me.

"We are responsible for your safety, so please don't do anything stupid." I was about to refute when Sebastian's voice rang out.

"I will keep him safe," he said, his voice so cold shivers ran down my spine.

"Move or I will make you." The knight complied without a word. He galloped to my side, before getting down and unsheathing his sword.

"Take this with you," he said and handed me his weapon. I didn't take it. I would be lying if I said that this was a smart decision. But I refused for the same reason why I didn't take the General Swordsmanship Skill. It didn't feel right. And until now I couldn't quite put my mind on why it didn't feel right. Until, a theory formed inside my mind. And now it was time to test that theory. The knight wasn't happy with my refusal. I walked towards the goblins in front of me.

Walls of fire would rise up from the ground whenever they would try to flee, keeping them all encompassed in one small area. The road—and the place I was at. After a few tries and almost getting burned, they realized they had no other choice than to stay here. And so, all of their attention turned to me when my steps reached their ears. Their beady eyes locked on to me. Their weapons were gripped tight. They got ready for battle. But so did I. My Mana flared.

From my heart through my whole body, circulating through the Mana Channels. I could feel the strength coursing through me. I thought about assigning my Stat Points but decided against it. I wanted to beat them with Mana Manipulation. I just loved the skill that much. So, with one large stride I reached the first of four goblins. I swung my fist in a wild haymaker, the monster clearly not expecting my attack. My knuckles chipped its chin. It felt like hitting concrete. And... it only stumbled a few steps backwards.

I was expecting to blow its head off—that was not the case. I hid my surprise. I had learned it the hard way, that that got you killed. So, when the Goblins' comrades came, weapons swinging at me, I was prepared. I quickly moved back and created distance before circling around them. They charged at me like wild animals. I kept dodging and didn't allow them to surround me. It took all of my attention. I wanted to counterattack, but I couldn't find any opportunity without risking getting surrounded.

Fighting multiple enemies was hard. Much harder than I expected. My confidence wavered. So, I did the only thing that kept me alive in my past simulation. I charged in. I ducked the club coming for my head and returned an uppercut as a greeting. The monster stumbled backward and just as I was about to use that momentum to take care of it, a pitchfork came towards my side. I saw the rusty metal come close towards my skin. Luckily, mana kept running through my body.

I reacted and rolled on the ground, dodging the attack. I bumped into another goblin. This time I didn't have time to dodge, as a heavy stone club smashed against my back. The spot went numb, but it hurt less than expected. Despite the pain, I was quick to move again. No bones were broken. I once again circled around the goblins, this time with a numb back that would leave a nasty bruise and my confidence in the gutter. The monsters snickered at me. I hated it.

Despite the fight going on, I could hear the whispers of my knights. They called me dumb. I agreed. They called me reckless. I agreed. They called me arrogant. I agreed. But then they called me a weak drunkard not made for battle. The shit-eating grin on my face disagreed. I fucking loved this shit. I kept circling the monsters. My mind confused. It didn't make sense that the attack only bruised me. The monsters were strong.

They might have been short, but I doubted they were weaker than the strongest man back on Earth. In addition, the club was made out of heavy stone that hit me full force. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Even with five points in constitution, the attack should have done serious damage, but it didn't. Something else was at play. And that something else was my Mana Manipulation. Then, I realized. I had been using the skill wrong.

Right now, I was a little tougher, faster, and stronger than before, which is why my attacks didn't do much damage. I still had the strength stat of somebody at level 1, that was a drunkard. The Mana Manipulation was spread out. This allowed me to dodge a little faster and take on an attack that should have broken my spine. I took a deep breath. My eyes stayed on the monsters, but my focus went inwards. I willed my mana to move differently. I forced it to condense around my fists and wrists.

It refused for a moment, but my will was stronger than its refusal. Immediately, I felt sapped of my speed and the overwhelming feeling of invincibility. I felt sluggish and vulnerable. But my fists overflowed with power. I lunged towards the nearest goblin. I was slower, but the monster didn't take my attack seriously and accepted my fist. This time my knuckles made its head spin sideways and it dropped to the ground. Not dead, but unconscious. This time momentum was on my side.

They couldn't comprehend their comrade resembling an owl. And that was my chance. A flurry of mana-fueled attacks rained down upon them. My fist met bone and left them cracked. An attack came my way, but it was a panicked strike. I sidestepped easily. I pulled my arm back as far as I could and hit the monster with a straight into its face. The bones broke and I partially reached into its skull. My arm repeated the motion until I reached the monster's brain. It was dead.

My chest heaved up and down more from the adrenaline than exhaustion. Two goblins remained on their feet. One was dead. The other was unconscious. I saw the fear inside their eyes. Their bones were broken at multiple places. The fight was over. And yet, we charged at each other once again. Their weapons reached for me. My fists responded in kind. They stood no chance. I took a deep breath. My first few kills in this new world. The words of the system only confirming my actions. You have killed [Goblin - Level 10].

You have killed [Goblin - Level 9]. You have killed [Goblin - Level 9]. You have killed [Goblin - Level 8]. It looked like the unconscious one died somehow. It very likely bled out. I didn't care. I had won. I checked my level to see how much experience this fight gave me. Level 5 [13%] Fuck. I had killed 4 Goblins far above my level and barely got a few percentage points. The penalty of my Class was real. It would be basically impossible for me to level outside of Simulations.

Luckily, the next few notifications lifted my mood again. Mana Manipulation [Uncommon] has reached level 6. Mana Manipulation [Uncommon] has reached level 7. You have been granted the opportunity to learn [Unarmed Combat - Common]. The Skill will be placed into limbo state if you refuse. I didn't refuse. I finally understood why the sword didn't feel right. I enjoyed the violence. I enjoyed feeling the bones crack beneath my fists.

I enjoyed being so close to my opponent I could feel their breath before stripping them of that function. And I couldn't help but hate me a little for it. Because I knew, this was my new drug. As I learned the skill, information entered my brain, and I finally understood the difference between just knowing how to fight and having a skill for it. First, the skill filled a few gaps I had. I knew how to throw a punch or two, but that was it. The skill showed me how to kick and grapple too.

I would know how to move, but practice and, in turn, leveling up would allow me to do it right. But the second thing was what truly made the difference. My combat ability was strengthened inside a fight. The skill acted kind of like Mana Manipulation would in the sense that I would be a little faster, stronger, sturdier, and in turn, more lethal while fighting. And the higher the grade and level of the skill were, the bigger the boost. Pretty awesome, I must say.

I enjoyed both the calmness after the fight and the new skill. It made me realize that this had been truly worth it. I wanted to do it again. I wanted to fight again. I smiled brightly—I loved this new life I had been granted.

"Wipe that grin off your face," I heard Sebastian say, and the next moment, the corpses lit up in flames before turning to ashes a few seconds later.

"You were lucky. Again. You didn't use a sword. You didn't invest your Stat Points. You won now, but one day you will get yourself killed." I stayed silent. He was right. But I disagreed.

"It may have been stupid, but it worked."

"Whether it worked or not won't matter if you are dead."

"Death is inevitable," I said.

"It will come for all of us, but I bet I can keep it off long enough." The man looked me straight in the eyes. I trembled. I could feel his mana move through his body, as he didn't say anything. His emotionless expression didn't give anything away, even as he slowly spoke.

"You have changed," Sebastian said as a matter of fact. I panicked. Fuck, I had completely forgotten about this part. Me and Ivor might have held the same name with the same resemblances, but we were still different persons. He was different from me. I should have realized the man closest to him would have noticed something.

"People change," I said calmly despite my inner turmoil. I went through death and back. This was nothing.

"You are bound to become different after losing your chance at a bright future and then being given another." He nodded and left.

"I didn't know drunkards could fight," one of the knights said to another.

"It was his Mana Manipulation skill that won the battle," another one scoffed.

"It was the privilege of getting such a skill gifted that won the fight. Not the person. A parting gift from the count, I bet." They didn't hide their voice. But I didn't care. I had found my path. I entered the carriage with Sebastian, sipping his tea, and the Inky murdering my leather seats with her sharp claws. I put her on my lap, petted her, and gazed outside. The exhaustion of the fight suddenly settled in.

"Sleep," Sebastian said after handing me a few sticks of beef jerky.

"The first fight is always the hardest. You need to rest. Don't argue. Don't train. Rest." This time I took his advice to heart.

The days on the road passed quickly. The grassy landscape around us turned more and more barren as time passed. Only a few green strands of grass were visible. These were the true Barren Lands. Lack of fertile soil, resources, and in turn, interest from everyone. Yet as I looked at them, I couldn't help but feel pity. The land was so vast. And even in its barrenness, it held a certain beauty to it. Like a terminally ill patient hanging on a last thread of hope. You couldn't help but admire them for their bravery.

That's what I saw in those lands. Not what it lacked. But what it represented at its core. Perseverance. Since the goblin accident, the trip had been peaceful. I trained my Mana Manipulation inside my carriage and my Unarmed Combat whenever we stopped to rest. I leveled up in neither. A shame, but such was the path of getting stronger. You just had to keep going. You had to persevere and come out on the other side. I had discussed this with Sebastian, but he couldn't see it.

All he saw was helplessness where I saw hope. To him, the land looked like it would wither and be forgotten. Like the dead.

"Yet you remember Jason Barthorn," I said to the man. Sebastian nodded, "He is a hero. He protected the Fort to his last breath, saving children and women numbered in the thousands. He died so others could live. How could he be forgotten?" I stayed silent for a moment and looked at the barren lands outside.

"He persevered and came out on top even if he died. His goal was to save people, and he achieved that."

"Yes, he–""Now we get to see Jason Barthorn's story in action," I interrupted him.

"Will the land persevere and come out on top like Sir Barthorn, or will it lose?" Sebastian didn't answer me as a knight's scream broke up our conversation.

"Blackstone in sight! We are a few hours away from delivering the package!"