Self-Juggling

*Thud!*

"Ooof!"

*Thud!*

"Oaaahhf!"

*Thud!*

"Doh!"

*Thud*

"FOuck!"

Michael's descent down the mountain certainly couldn't be called a pleasant one. His skin and clothes had been shredded numerous times already, and even the chainmail he'd been wearing was missing many ringlets that'd been torn away by jagged stone and trees growing out the side of the mountain.

Were it not for his Shadow Dance Passive, he would have died around four minutes ago. Alas, with every impact and subsequent air time, Michael was given ample time to heal before his next jolt.

*Thud!*

"God!-"

*Thud!*

"Damn!-"

*Thud!*

"IT!"

*Crack!*

Eventually though, Michael reaches the bottom of the mountain in a pile. His body was completely covered in dirt and dust, but he lacked the wounds you'd expect for obvious reasons. Unfortunately, it seems as if he'd traded one shitty situation for the next.

He'd fallen down the mountain and obliviously bounced into some sort of village? It was obviously not made by humans due to its primitive design, and his suspicions were only confirmed when many green figures existed out of their primitive huts to check out the sound.

"Why did it have to be Goblin?" he mutters to himself, grimacing slightly as he stands for the first time in minutes on unshattered legs. He'd lost his dagger after he'd fallen from the Griffin, but fortunately, the goblins seemed to be observing him instead of attacking, giving him enough time to equip himself.

He summons the Book of Commoners and quickly flips to the inventory page, pulling out a stored dagger and running at the nearest goblin. It gives a confused squeak but is taken completely off guard when Michael's dagger buries itself in its face.

Its skull wasn't as dense as a human's, allowing him to pierce the brain with ease before focussing on another target.

"CREEAaak!" one of the goblins finally shrieks, causing the others to bare their sharp disgusting-looking nail at him as they charge his position. Michael easily dispatches them however, the F-Tier mobs were no match for him who'd been hunting humans on the regular since he entered Antomiers.

"Shock."

*BBBzzzztch!*

"SCREE!? GUHK!"

In a matter of minutes, the goblin village had been decimated, with not a single one remaining after Michael's massacre. He takes some time to search the place, but doesn't find anything aside from rusty tools, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief at the lack of female hostages. He'd seen enough of Goblin Slayer to know what awaited those captured by these little creeps.

He washes his hands at a nearby stream and washes his face for what felt like the first time in years... His hygiene while imprisoned hadn't exactly been the best, not that he had any choice in the matter of course.

Once sure he wasn't covered in goblin blood, he stands and looks up at the sky in the general direction of where Prince Wale's ship should be. All the while habitually tracing a finger over his lips to check if his teeth were still present. Michael wasn't really aware that he was doing it, but weeks of being forced to pull out his own teeth had developed such a tick... It was the trade-off for not going insane some would venture.

Wardes was dead, but he was nowhere near achieving his vengeance. He'd make sure that Sheffield and Cromwell joined that Griffin fucker in hell, but for now he needed to focus on his own survival...

"Should I try to wait and see if they'll come for me?" he mutters to himself, wondering if he should even bother. He knew from the anime that Prince Wales was one of the better people in this world. He didn't really want to get involved in his struggles, to be honest, and those nobles surrounding him put Michael on edge. The hostility they displayed when he showed up was typical, they didn't show it to Wardes due to his status as a Viscount, so Michael was sure that even if he did return, he'd be made a servant or a guard of some sort.

"No. Fuck Wales and fuck Albion. I just want Sheffield and Cromwell dead." he mutters to himself before an idea pops into his head. "Yeah... Why bother with any of them, Louise had probably forgotten about him by now, and she was unlikely to help him return home with her Void Magic... But all that meant was that he had to find someone who would help him.

"Tiffania... The only problem is actually finding her."

Indeed, the floating continent of Albion was far larger than Michael would have expected. Plus the fact he had no idea where she actually lived meant that he'd be looking for a needle in a haystack.

"But first things first." he says while pulling out the Book of Commoners.

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Name : Michael Hunt

Rank : Common

Stats :

Strength : 10 > 14

Agility : 15.4 > 18.3

Intelligence : 13

Abilities :

[Gandalfr] : Enables user to utilise any weapon at two ranks above their current proficiency while granting them the knowledge necessary to use them. While wielding a weapon, temporarily gain +100% in all stats.

[Language Comprehension] : Enables user to understand all spoken tongues, and increase the rate of which they learn reading and writing.

[Basic Mana Manipulation] : Allows user more control over his magic, spells, and some abilities. Mana efficiency and control of power is increased.

[Pain Tolerence] : Allows user to endure great amounts of pain with little to no negative effects as a result.

Spirits :

Shadow Shaman : Lvl MAX

Slark : Lvl 8 > 15

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Looks like his time getting tortured wasn't all for nothing. Strength was linked to both physical strength and health. Meaning he could probably train it by taking damage, not that he'd start mutilating himself... He wasn't a masochist after all, despite what his new [Pain Tolerence] ability might suggest.

His bonus Agility from killing Wardes was also a boon, it was quite the increase compared to the usual stat gain. Though, he wondered how much of it was killing Wardes and how much of it was his suicidal leap off of the airship and subsequent tumble down the mountain, followed by the goblin massacre... Not to mention those people he'd been forced to...

He shakes his head, his guilt making it difficult not to dwell on such thoughts. He wasn't in control of his body, but it certainly didn't make him feel any better, or any less angry.

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Spirit : Slark

Level : 8 > 15

Abilities :

Slithereen Strokes (Rank 4) : Allows user to swim with the same proficiency of the Slithereen race.

Dark Pact (Rank 4) : After a short delay, user purges most negative debuffs and deals damage to enemies around him, while also dealing damage to user. (User takes half damage)

Pounce (Rank 1) : User leaps a large distance while leashing any enemies he lands on. Leashed enemies will be unable to escape user for the duration of the ability.

Essence Shift (Rank 4) : User steals the life essence of enemies with each melee attack, draining each of their attributes and converting them to temporary bonus agility for the user. If user kills a target under this skill's effect, user will gain 0.1 Permanent Agility(Scales based on opponent strength).

Shadow Dance (Rank 2) : Active effect : User is able to shroud themself in a cloud of shadows that render enemies unable to target or detect them for the duration. Passive effect : User gains bonus movement speed and health regen while unseen.

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His Slark Spirit's levels weren't all that great an improvement if he were honest. Aside from Essence Shift and Shadow Dance, there wasn't all that great an increase in strength. He ranked Shadow Dance up once, then maxed out Dark Pact and Slithereen Strokes. The latter should come in handy eventually, but he still wasn't too keen on using Dark Pact now that its damage has been drastically increased.