After the battle

Seth ORLETH

SHLACK!

The last goblin let out a muffled cry as I impaled him with my spear. His agony was not long, and he died instantly.

[You have killed a monster; Green Goblin.]

[You received…]

"Hey I think I'm done here" I barked at the cleaning crew ignoring the announcement voice.

The Cleanup Team was a small group of people who are responsible for collecting essence stones left behind by creatures that died in the encounter.

Since we had been charged by the Master himself, we were constantly protected by our fellow fighters, with each creature killed, we hurry to recover the essence stones, since we are not the only ones on the battlefield we We can't risk them getting mixed up.

Thanks to the soul pact, everyone who was part of the Orleth clan was able to circumvent the rule that forced us to only be able to absorb the essence stones of a creature that we had previously killed, it was a kind of blessing that the master made us.

'Hey, speaking of the master, where is he?'

I let my eyes wander around the clearing, and I saw him nowhere.

I was getting a little stressed, I looked for Lord Rakahn's gaze, I looked for a long time before finding him crouching next to the chief of the Ibara clan, who had remained lying on the ground.

I furrowed my eyebrows, seeing his jovial expression, I concluded that nothing was too serious. So I headed in his direction.

When I got close, he raised his head and stared at me questioningly, as if he wanted to tell me;

"What do you want, kid?"

"My lord, have you not seen the master? I have looked for him and I cannot see him anywhere!" I asked, softening my voice.

"Mmmh.. he probably already returned to the hamlet…?" He returned the question to me

"I was looking for him too, it's just this bastard who refuses to get up" he added, pointing at the head of the Ibara clan with the right.

' Motherfucker !?' I asked myself, I remained petrified at the idea that a leader of an entire clan would be treated like this.

'We'll have seen it all, as they say!'

Sir Akumu had stood up, he rather raised the upper part of his body, he had looked at me, in fact it was not me he was looking at, it was something behind me.

"I don't think you need to look for it anymore," he said as he continued to stare at his goal.

I turned around, furrowing my eyebrows to try and look in the same direction as him, I noticed a silhouette of a dark-haired man in a set of armor made of black leather, the armor was damaged and had the seems to have lost a little of its shine.

But there was another problem...

The man held his right side and limped along his steps, it was clear that he was in bad shape.

My eyes widened, my heartbeat accelerated to crazy speed, while millions of questions flooded my mind, I saw that Lady Dahlia was already leaning against him, helping him support himself.

"But… he's the master!!!" I exclaimed

What happened?, they're just goblins, how can he be in this state? Was he fighting against something bigger?

"Seth, go and tell the other soldiers to gather the remains to cremate them," Lord Rakahn ordered, his tone suddenly becoming serious.

"And bring in a healer as soon as possible!"

I wanted to add something but I didn't have the courage so I held back for fear of unintentionally offending him.

"Yes sir, I'll go right away," I replied, leaving his position.

I walked for almost two or three minutes, when I reached the position of the warriors of the three clans; Orleth, Ibara and Elves gathered to rest and heal.

That's when I shared the instructions and sent in the request for a caregiver.

Unfortunately, all the healers I consulted have already used up all their mana to treat the most serious wounds. The battle was bloody and the wounded multiplied to such an extent that they were forced to call on their contracting spirits.

"It's a real pain in the ass!" I growled.

After a while of searching I came across an elf, she was sitting next to the survivor of the Dhakat clan, her white skin shone as the sun had already fallen, giving way to dusk. She was graceful and beautiful and radiated youth…

You couldn't call an elf "young" without first knowing their ages.

"appearance is often deceiving"

This race, born from spirits, could live up to 300 years, and it is difficult for them to age just as it is even more difficult for them to give birth.

I explained my problem to the gracious "young" elf, and asked for her help.

She lingered for a moment, I saw her look at the survivor, she gave him a sign of approval and they both got up and decided to go and treat the master together.

I didn't catch any of their shenanigans, all I knew was that;

Possessive as Lady Dahlia was, I don't think she would let this large-breasted survivor get near the master.

Should I warn them?

'Mmmh no, maybe I'm the one who's wrong' I said to myself, trying to get the idea out of my mind.

The lady could be unpredictable sometimes.