First Encounter
January 8th, 2022
***
Something felt off when he woke up. It was a few hours past dawn with the sun scattering through a window above the headboard.
From his bedroom he expanded his Sense past the outer walls of the dojo, then the flowerbeds and privacy walls and blanketed the neighborhood. An overload of visual information processed with ease in his mind.
It was empty. Quiet.
The streets — there wasn't a single person nearby. Stores were closed; bikes were left scattered and abandoned, and even the local train station was devoid of people. He grabbed his sword - an intricate, ceremonial katana - and made for the door. He was too uneasy to ignore it.
Beautiful two-story houses and tall shrubbery now felt claustrophobic and tight. He started sensing the occasional family inside their home further from his dojo, but this did little to relax him.
A sudden scream sent him sprinting down the block. A young man stumbled around the corner, pale and littered with stab wounds: a small knife plunged into his abdomen. He collapsed onto the road, relieved at finding help.
It was short-lived.
Richter felt the man's pulse fade until his heart stopped beating entirely. He couldn't believe his eyes as a creature shuffled around the corner soon after. Something inhuman.
The short, blue goblin pulled out another dagger and brandished it toward him. It seemed to be taunting him, swaying and moving in strange patterns — throwing feints with the meager little weapon.
Richer was enraged. He analyzed the cuts on the man, all of which conveniently avoiding organs and vitals. They were non-critical, meant to bleed him dry in agony. The cuts of a sadistic existence.
The other thing his senses kept telling him… was that the creature was pathetically weak. He drew his sword and leapt toward it.
Terror gripped it like a vice as the creature's pathetic attempts to show off gave way to panic. Each movement became harder and harder; the growing inability pushing it into a fury. It wanted to scream, to fight, to call for backup even. It's body shivered instead, meeting the cold gaze of the man before it.
Fear — the last thing it felt.
Richter's blade smoothly entered the neck of the goblin. It cut the flesh along the collarbone, gliding through the throat, and came out the other side. The decapitated head twirled through the air, landing in Richter's left hand.
'Disgusting.'
He could examine the finer details under sunlight. Rotten, wrinkled skin and a pungent stench. Beady little eyes that rolled around, lifeless. And blood that stained his hands, dripping down onto his jeans and shoes. He felt around the skull - front and back - noting how flimsy the bones were.
A transparent blue screen popped in front of him covered in text.
[You have successfully slain your first monster]
['Goblin Level 3' killed. XP awarded]
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[ Your bravery is commendable. You prioritized eliminating the threat above all else and had the strength to do it. ]
[Class acquired: Your intrinsic class is 'Swordsman']
[To view your status window, simply say "status" and it will appear.]
[Additional information can be accessed by clicking on the question marks in your status window.]
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Richter read the text a few times before clutching his head. What a headache.
Then a new feeling surged into his body. An energy or force he couldn't identify. Blue... something. In between a gas and a liquid flowed through veins and tendons. With each breath, he felt stronger.
It was the kind of power that could make a man drunk.
Richter shook his head to calm down, directing the energy under his heart where it curled and condensed into a pearl on command. It was surprisingly easy — nearly as natural as breathing. Controlling the flow felt a lot like the training he was used to.
He detected a few more goblins in his reverie. The biggest was slightly stronger than the one he just killed, and the other two were laughably small.
He might as well make the neighborhood a safer place.
Richter followed the shrubbery along to the next intersection where the goblins were about to cross. He took a deep breath, sharpened his gaze, and slid out of concealment next to the group.
They jumped in surprise.
The biggest one pointed at Richter and motioned to his two underlings. They looked strangely unwilling to listen and started backing away from their leader.
His momentum was stunted - sparing a slash that would sever the trio's legs. Their guttural communication intrigued him. The large goblin saw this as an opportunity to lunge.
Richter twisted his wrist, deflecting the leader's dagger with the flat of his blade, then pivoted on his left foot and shot his right into the kneecaps of the creature.
One, followed by the other, snapping both legs.
The leader croaked in pain, left crawling and forced to watch its followers abandon it.
The underlings ran back the way they came — winding through streets towards a strange stone arch in an alley between two stores.
Cowardice: the last thing the leader saw before Richter skewered its head against the asphalt.
['Goblin Level 5' killed, XP awarded.]
[Level up! You have reached level 2. Attribute points awarded.]
[Use your status window to learn more.]
He swiped away the screen and redirected his gaze to the cave entrance. He had sensed it on the way over, though he couldn't penetrate the interior. It was wishful thinking to assume it was a tiny hole or crevice.
Richter's eyebrows furrowed. He glanced between the residential area and the direction of the cave.
'It'd be difficult to catch them if they spread out.' Richter sighed.
His feet carried him, tracing the path the underlings took. Along the way, he sensed a few more groups of goblins in the vicinity. A short detour wouldn't hurt.
And so the cries of goblins continued on that early afternoon. A pair of bloody footprints could be seen connecting every one of their deaths.
***
Inside a narrow cave - down a long and dark path - two little goblins were sprinting as fast as their legs could carry them. They pushed past every worker mining, trampling anything that got in the way, and finally made it to the throne room: A large twenty-square-foot room carved out of the rock by their king. A set of stairs toward the back wall led to a throne where a lovely sapphire-colored goblin resided. He was surrounded by half a dozen purple goblins armed with swords and helmets.
He eyed the two younglings curiously; they had nearly collapsed from exhaustion.
The duo told a brief tale of loss, heroic struggle, and exploration. A noble—
"Lies."
His pronunciation was perfect; just like the rest of the plan should have been. They took great care in securing a spot where they could grow unnoticed. So why was there a human around? How did he find them?
The King rested his chin upon a hand, lost in thought. The insubordination was a minor issue.
And yet those around him looked for retribution. For justice. He was their King. He had to dish it out.
Mana pooled at his fingertips: a dark, dense, sapphire-blue with crystal specks hidden under the dense layers.
[Original Skill: Sapphire Creation - 10%]
Two thick spears spun into existence, each aimed at an underling. Cheers and jeers echoed for their execution. Both spears hardened and built up rotation, causing the air to scream.
They saw reflections of their frightened faces, of their bodies and heads, then fountains of blood. The pair witnessed their own deaths through the surface of the spears as they tore through flesh. Their bodies exploded from the force.
"Clean up the mess. We have a visitor."
His guards took care of the viscera on the walls and floors.
Sounds of scuffles and grunts echoed from the entrance. Whoever it was — they were getting closer.
***
The cave was cramped. No better way to describe it. A one-way tunnel was the only path around, and the occasional torch kept light levels to a minimum. He had limited space to wield his sword. Without enough arm room, his range of motion was limited.
The short ceiling kept him at an awkward angle. Perhaps he'd try out one of their daggers if given the chance; he had picked up a few from the last group of goblins.
He heard several clangs further down the tunnel where a few oblivious goblins mined the walls.
The loud sounds made sneaking easy. So he pulled a dagger out and tiptoed to the closest miner. A swift slice along its neck snuffed them out. Their weak bodies made it easy to muffle their shouts.
He repeated this several more times until arriving at a straight segment of the tunnel. One of the miners just happened to turn around and spot him. He pointed at Richter and yelled, drawing attention.
A cold flash of metal glided through the air, briefly registering in its eyes before burying itself in the goblin's throat. It staggered backward and slid down the wall of the tunnel.
Richter was always surprised at how fragile their bodies were. He hadn't put a lot of force behind it since he couldn't swing his arm in an arc.
The other miners huddled together and wielded their pickaxes. At the very least, their vision was hindered as well. Or they didn't have good vision to begin with.
He slid out the last two daggers and chucked them at their defensive formation. Two more goblins, fell clutching their chests. Taking advantage of the panic, he lunged forward and delivered a straight kick to the throat of the nearest goblin. The sound of its neck snapping echoed down the tunnel.
By this point, the morale of the miners had crashed. They made a break for it, but turning their back on Richter was a terrible idea. He brought his blade back, tightening his muscles as much as he could, and catapulted his arm forward.
[Thrust.]
The two goblins went limp, skewered on his katana. The sweet build-up of XP sounds played in his ears. He was glad to be almost done.
Up ahead was an expansive cavern with several stronger auras inside. Richter wouldn't be restricted like in the tunnel, but it may not matter.
One, in particular, seemed to be looking right through him. The blue goblin smiled and projected bloodlust throughout the room.
Richter steadied his body and pushed forward.
Maybe he'd looked down on goblins too much.
***