“This is about to break; it should have broken already.” Dian decided this with a quick glance at Rayner’s weapon.
“It looks fine to me,” he said, taking it back from Dian and inspecting the hammer himself.
“That’s just how it looks on the outside. The smith made it well. On the inside, the durability is going down. If your friend used his knife the same way, it should have broken already.”
“I have been pretty rough on it.” And by rough, he meant using it to bludgeon dragons to death.
“What you need is a weapon made for skill use. Something that can handle mana flow.”
“So, people with skills don’t use weapons like this?”
Dian thought for a moment on how best to answer him. “I see what’s confusing you. The skills you have used work through the hammer, other people’s skills would work on the hammer.”
“Oh, that makes sense.” It did not make sense. Another thing to put on his to-do list.
With three armies camped around the city, he had a hard time finding any monsters. He knew he should not go out alone but this was something Axel could not see. Eventually, he found a large spider in a tree, skittering along its branches to avoid a drill bird. Killing them was easy…and fun.
He spent the rest of the night with Rampage active, beating every monster he could find into bloody paste. Nausea built up in his stomach but not enough for him to stop; he abandoned thought, giving in to the bloodlust, and smiled.
***
For 20 years the goblin Vix had been trapped in the miasma. Two decades as a mindless slave to the misty purple mana. Vix was not one to pay back a favor. In fact, he hated owing others to the point he would rather kill them. Somehow it felt wrong to kill the two humans who had saved him.
Even worse was the state of the goblin world since he left. The stupid elders had got them worshipping some no-good gods and working for the humans and every other creature that threatened them or offered protection. It was in a goblin’s base instincts to submit to those stronger than itself. Vix had figured out long ago such deals never worked in their favor. If they failed in the tasks given to them, and they often did, they were punished. If they ran, they were punished. If they succeeded, still they were punished as their so-called benefactors were unwilling to share the spoils.
Yet the shaman elders, lords, and hobgoblins submitted again to powerful masters. He should have known. That was why they sent him on the mission into the miasma. Vix’s shaman told him the route would be safe; instead, it was a trap. His entire raiding party ended up dead or enslaved. Attacking human lands was a bad idea in the first place, humans always brought trouble. Even weak countries like Alta could chase them off if they had to.
Nobody believed in his vision of building a proper goblin society, with rules that went beyond who got to eat first and who got breeding rights. If they were strong, the humans would have to work with them. They could make the small villages pay tribute. Vix realized talking about it would do nothing. First, there would have to be bloodshed.
After all the time he spent in the miasma all the goblins who knew him were dead; he could use that to his advantage. The goblins had joined the Inimi army in many attacks against Alta and failed. Their masters would punish them. He could take advantage of this to rise in rank among his fellow goblins. For now, he had to see how strong he was or how weak. He had handled those humans with ease. They were inexperienced in combat but had plenty of potential.
Unlike a human who looked at tattoos on their palms, monsters like him didn’t need it; he focused on himself until he could see the words in his mind.
Name: Vix, Level: 10, Class: Goblin, Mana: 100, Skills: Poison Resistance(0) Mental Resistance(0) Slow Aging(0) Short Step(4) Hop Step(6) Stealth Step(8) Double Step(10), EXP: 22.
He’d gained many innate skills; his skills were a part of him. It must have been the result of living in the miasma for so long. Monsters gained levels faster than humans, still, level 10 was high for a goblin, and his mana amount must be because of the miasma as well. Most of his mana must lean toward his speed unless he had the talent to be a shaman.
Vix barged into the prayer room of the shamans. “I am Vix!” he declared.
The shamans were leading a prayer to one of the Inimi gods, goblin lords and hobgoblins kneeling behind them. The shamans and lords ignored him while the other goblins turned to look at the commotion he’d made. The hobgoblins moved to get rid of the small fry.
Good, he needed to make a statement. Not wasting any time, he used Short Step to close the distance between him and the closest hobgoblin. The fool was too shocked to react. Vix opened its throat with his knife. The other hobgoblin was faster to react, bringing its club down where Vix stood. Vix jumped toward him and when the hobgoblin swung its club at the airborne Vix, he used Hop Step, jumping on the air, and stabbing the hobgoblin in the eye.
“I am Vix!” Now the big shots were paying attention.
The goblin lords drew their swords. Using Double Step Vix appeared in front of the first lord with his first step, then as the Lord brought down his sword on Vix he used the second step to appear in the middle of the shamans. Vix made quick bloody work of them. He had enough mana to use his skills for quite some time, but the lords were agile enough to react to him. He was counting on goblin nature to prevail.
When the other lords moved forward to attack, they found themselves mobbed by the other goblins. Vix counted on this knowing that because of the recent failures the weak goblins feared punishment. A good way to avoid punishment is to kill the punishers. The goblins were already at their breaking point and he gave them a needed push.
After the goblins finished stabbing their former masters to death, they turned to him. Vix waited, saying nothing.
“You are Vix! You are Vix!” The chants rang through the cave.
***
General Kent had sent three armies into the small country of Alta and all of them had failed. No, not only failed, the armies had been destroyed. He would have to answer for this and if he had to answer for these failures, he would punish those under him for theirs.
He may lose his position as General of the 1st eastern army group. He would rather lose his life, for without power he would be dead regardless. His enemies would pounce, his allies would abandon him if they had not already. He demanded an explanation by the troops on the ground, those who had not died that is.
“General Kent Valentine, I am here to report the status of the 3rd army.”
“Lieutenant General Bannan Geraldo, I am hoping for a satisfactory explanation. I am not pleased and our gods are restive.”
The man hid his nervousness well but sweat still lined his brow. “Sir, we ran into complications. At every step of the way our plans went wrong.”
“That is the way of war, yet it rarely leads to the defeat of three armies.” Kent failed to keep his voice down.