5. Life or Death

This Moon Tree had twelve fruits, and each soothed his throat going down; it felt like drinking a warm broth. He sat with his back to the tree, cross-legged, and savored them one by one. He kept leveling up, kept seeing the boxes pop up; each one tickled him.

By the end of it, he'd gone up to Level 19. With his three points, he shored up his speed and his dexterity some, but he put the bulk of it into strength and vitality. As for regeneration, it might be useful in drawn-out fights, but he didn't plan on getting in those.

His relationship to work had changed in here too. After a few hours moving boxes, he'd need a break—even if he was fine physically, his brain felt like it had been ground to a pulp. But here, the more he fought, the more he wanted to fight.

So he forged deeper and deeper into the Luminous Forest. At the Forest's edge, there had been little fuzzy balls of light floating around; those had all but vanished. This deep, the Forest grew gloomy, brooding. Bruised purple was the color of the day. The little critters he'd see scurrying about—the snow monkeys, the light bugs, the doves—were all conspicuously absent. Oddly, so were the monsters; he hardly saw any red dots on his mini-map, and those seemed far off. It was disconcertingly quiet.

Where did everything go? Maybe they'd simply wandered off to some other section of the map. It could be they were out fighting other people. Or other monsters. Still… something felt off.

Just as he was debating turning back, he saw a yellow dot pop up on the edge of his mini-map; it was a good deal bigger than the last few treasure dots he'd seen. And he also saw where all the monsters had gone.

They were packed so tight around that dot it looked like one solid red circle.

It turned out that treasure dot was a tree that looked like three Moon Trees stacked on top of each other. It was thrice as wide as a normal Moon Tree too. The top layer was a behemoth; it bristled with moon fruit, but the bottom layer, some dozens of feet off the ground, had its fair share too.

There were so many goblins milling about he couldn't count them all. But a few nearest to the tree stood out—hobgoblins. He squinted at them from behind a screen of foliage.

ℍ𝕠𝕓𝕘𝕠𝕓𝕝𝕚𝕟 (𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣)

𝔼𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝟙𝟠

ℍ𝕠𝕓𝕘𝕠𝕓𝕝𝕚𝕟 (𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣)

𝔼𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝟙𝟜

ℍ𝕠𝕓𝕘𝕠𝕓𝕝𝕚𝕟 (𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣)

𝔼𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝟙𝟝

He scanned the rest of the goblins. None were over level ten. He'd made the mistake of underestimating how hordes of low-level critters could add up, but with this level gap he was certain these things couldn't touch him. He'd be shocked if they could scratch him. Thet level 18 Hobgoblin might give him some resistance, but he figured he could do this horde like he'd done the last one. Easy.

When he first saw it pop up on the mini-map, he'd wondered if this was where the boss was, that Hobgoblin Chief.

But it was nowhere to be seen. He must not be deep enough. He tsk'd.

For this bunch, he figured a straight-up approach would do just fine. They were ringed around a tree in the middle of a clearing. The clearing was edged with tall trees, casting deep shadows, but once he was out of them he'd have to sprint a good twenty yards in naked light to get to them. He was hardly going to sneak up on them.

So he put up his fists and waded right in.

He was pretty spot-on in his analysis, as it turned out. The little goblins were annoyances, brushed off easily as insects, but these three hobgoblins were surprisingly coordinated. They each took a corner of a triangle around him, and each knew their way around a spear too. When he lunged for one, the other two would slash, and all the while, the mass of little goblins would get in the way. He had to take a couple of slices to the back to corner the level 14 Hobgoblin, but once he got it down, once he broke the formation, the other two had trouble keeping up. He kept swinging and swinging and swinging, and the horde of goblins dwindled to a handful.

His health dwindled below 50% too. A few more swings and he was getting dangerously close to 25%. They'd given him a good workout, but it was time to end things.

He used the same trick with Titan's Fist; he didn't even have to play at exhaustion this time. He'd been throwing like a madman. He was pretty gassed by then. Luckily, it seemed all goblins were alike—they saw him drop, got the bloodlust in them and charged him.

Titan's Fist scorched the air. He drew one wide arc that splattered nearly all of them. His vitality had improved enough then. He could stay upright after a Fist now, just barely. He had enough left in him to pick off the stragglers.

He was pretty happy with how that went. Sure, he'd gotten roughed up, but he'd never felt in any real danger. He had fun. Solid fight—he'll pick off these fruit, level, and recover for a little, and be on his way….

He froze.

He spotted something out of the corner of his eye—a subtle flickering; the shadows at the edge of the clearing. Were they moving?

Why were there shadows here at all? There was no sunlight to cast them.

The shadows shifted, pulling back like curtains unveiling a stage.

And what stepped out were goblins. goblins upon goblins upon goblins, slobbering, yellow eyes veined giddy red, licking glistening white teeth.

All around the clearing, his mini-map lit up one bright circle of red. They had him totally surrounded.

"...What the fuck," he said. They can cloak?!

Then a dot so big it seemed a bloodstain on his mini-map broke out of the pack. Zane looked up. A massive body stomped out of the dark. A wrecking ball of a potbelly, a leery yellow gap-toothed grin, and its eyes were even yellower. Every step it took shivered the earth. A giant, dented, scarred axe was slung over a shoulder.

Its body was glowing subtly, and shadows warped around him, as though distorted by some unseen gravity. This cloaking—this was its active skill!

ℍ𝕠𝕓𝕘𝕠𝕓𝕝𝕚𝕟 ℂ𝕙𝕚𝕖𝕗 (𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣)

𝔼𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝟚𝟞

The Chief roared at him, a horrible sound, a groaning and shrieking spliced together, painfully loud. He smelled the stench of it—the stinging, eye-watering blend of garlic and sulfur.

Then he got a notification:

𝕃𝕒𝕚𝕣 𝕃𝕠𝕔𝕜: 𝔾𝕣𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℍ𝕠𝕓𝕘𝕠𝕓𝕝𝕚𝕟 ℂ𝕙𝕚𝕖𝕗

A curtain of light blue rose up from the edge of the clearing, vanishing into the sky.

𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℍ𝕠𝕓𝕘𝕠𝕓𝕝𝕚𝕟 ℂ𝕙𝕚𝕖𝕗 𝕙𝕒𝕤 𝕝𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕥𝕤 𝕓𝕠𝕤𝕤 𝕝𝕒𝕚𝕣.

ℂ𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟: 𝕂𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℍ𝕠𝕓𝕘𝕠𝕓𝕝𝕚𝕟 ℂ𝕙𝕚𝕖𝕗.

Zane stared at it.

Had the Chief set this up? Waited until he'd been drawn into their trap and exhausted himself—and only then finish him?

For a few heartbeats he stood there stunned.

Then he snorted. He started to chuckle; he shook his head, smiling ruefully.

"Okay. Neat trick. You got me."

He saw how things were. So. He was fucked, it seemed.

But he could still give them Hell on the way down.

His blood coursed, warming him; weirdly it helped him think. His blood ran hot, but his head was cool, clear. Maybe it was the adrenaline. He took in the ring around him—the speckled hobgoblins, the waves of goblins, most armed with spears. There was even a horde of archers.

Then there was him, with his health drain so close to nothing, nearly empty of essence. Him, and a Moon Tree.

All these things floated together in his mind, and slowly they began to congeal. He was molding them into a last-ditch desperate plan. But first he leapt with all his strength, straight up.

He flailed out a hand. For a second, he thought he might not make it. And his fingers closed around a moon fruit on the lowest bough; stuffed it into his mouth, and swallowed it whole in one gulp. As he hoped, it put him over the edge.

𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝕌𝕡!

𝔼𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝟙𝟡 -> 𝟚𝟘

A shock of bright light, and he was flush with life, flush with essence. Just in time, too. The Hobgoblin Chief roared and barreled at him. The edge of its axe was a wicked red, and it glowed with a skill's power as the chief swung. Zane barely managed to twist out of the way; it carved a deep, smoking fissure in the ground, leaking gouts of essence.

One good hit from that thing, and he was done. No way he could fight this thing right now—as he was, with all those goblins coming at him from behind.

So he ran. And the rest of the goblins came after him, both thrusting spears, jabbing. A hail of arrows shrieked by.

He had nowhere to run except around the tree. He ran in arcs, weaving through goblins; the Chief swung for him, bellowing, and every swing of its axe mowed down its own like so much grass. It didn't care—it just wanted him dead.

Now he saw why they hadn't come for him all at once. There were so many of them they got in each other's way. Half the shots meant for him fell on grunt goblins. The other half left blood welling up his arms, sure, but the sheer ungainly bulk of the attack might've been the only thing keeping him alive. He could wade through the chunks with the weakest goblins, take some skin wounds, and keep going; as they chased him they clogged each other up. It felt like running through briars. It sucked, but he'd live.

He leapt as he ran, grabbing for Moon Fruit—why were the branches so damned high? He managed to snag a few. He chomped them instantly. He was just too weak—first he had to level and take out the Chief's most annoying minions, all at once. All while dodging for his life.

He bowled his way to a Level 15 Hobgoblin. He could hear the Chief's furious roar, so close he could feel the heat of its breath on the back of his neck. He had to make this fast. The hobgoblin stabbed at him and he ducked, yanked its spear out its hands, and pierced its throat with it as he dashed by, one motion.

The Chief bellowed in rage; he heard its axe scream by so close he felt blood splattering on the back of his legs. Not his blood—some poor grunt goblin's blood. He ran faster, making a beeline for a Level 17 Hobgoblin. It thrust his spear at him. He rammed his own through its heart. He had no time to pull it out again, so he simply took the spear it generously held out to him, and kept running.

𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝕌𝕡!

𝔼𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝: 𝟚𝟘 -> 𝟚𝟙

ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕥𝕙 𝕖𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕔𝕥: ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕥𝕙 𝕗𝕦𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕕

𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝕌𝕡!

𝔸𝕣𝕞𝕖𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕓𝕒𝕥 𝕀 -> 𝕀𝕀

He put his point into Vitality and kept going. With the level-up his spear went exactly where he wanted, as fast as he wanted. Hobgoblins fell one after another, faster and faster, and someone was laughing hysterically. He realized it was him. He chanced a look behind, and saw he'd put a good few paces between him and the Chief. It looked mad enough to explode.

He took the chance and descended upon the clump of archers, stabbing in a frenzy, leaving nothing but glowing fallen bodies in his wake.

But soon he saw his time was running out.

𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝕌𝕡!

𝔼𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝟚𝟙 -> 𝟚𝟚

The two sources of essence fueling his run—the essence of high-level hobgoblins, and Fruit he could reach—were fast depleting. And the buffer he had, the goblin horde, had thinned drastically too. He had smashed a fair few, but ironically it was the Chief that had cut through most of its own. There was an outer ring of goblins too scared to even get close now.

The Chief was gaining on him again; every time he glanced back his heart stuttered. He brought down a hobgoblin, then another, then another. When he snagged the last Fruit he could reach the Axe got so close shaved the back of his shirt, and leaving a burning hot line of pain. He hissed. That'd just grazed him—if he kept running, he had a sinking feeling the next one would do a lot more than that…

ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕥𝕙 𝔼𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕔𝕥: ℙ𝕠𝕚𝕤𝕠𝕟

Fuck.

He stuffed the last Fruit in his mouth. He had just under 75% of his health left. He was dangerously close to a level up, but he wasn't quite there. There was no time.

He turned and gave the Chief everything he had.

This must be what those hobgoblins felt like fighting him. The Chief was enormous, slower, clumsier, but the power coming back was so awesome it didn't matter. Zane stabbed at it, but all he could give the huge bastard were nicks. And he only barely managed to get out of the way as its axe raged by, steaming essence.

They played this dangerous game. For every few nicks he gave it, it cleaved for his head—it never caught him, not fully. But even the barest graze of its edge wiped out a chunk of his health. He didn't want to know how little he'd done to it.

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘! ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕥𝕙 𝕌𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝟝𝟘%

He had only one real shot at this. That was to get close, close enough he could loose his Titan's Fist. So he ran up to the edge of the Moon Tree.

The Chief swung furiously for him, and he dodged as late as he possibly could. He still took a deep gash up the forearm, but he got his prize.

The Axe was stuck neck-deep in the Moon Tree, for just a moment. And Zane pounced. Titan's Fist!

He saw the Chief's face light up with something nearing fear, then saw it go white with the light of his fist. With its free hand it smashed at his stomach.

It landed first. Its strength was monstrous. Sickening crunches rattled Zane's body; it felt like his insides had been spontaneously turned to liquid.

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘! ℂ𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕝 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕥𝕙!

He'd been hit so hard it'd skipped right past 25%. And that was just the Chief's normal punch.

But he was alive, if barely. And he got his blow in too. His fist met rough goblin skin; he felt something hard beneath give way.

Then an explosion of searing light rocked the world. Zane's senses whited out.

When the world stopped trembling, Zane knelt there wheezing, and knew he was about to die.

He could only hope the Chief was too. It lay on its back, unmoving, its face a smoking blackened mass.

Then, snarling, it propped itself up to an arm. Then another.

Half its face was slag, caved in, melting off the bones. The other half—the half Zane hadn't struck—was well intact. It was still angry, but there was a touch of fear in it now. Zane had wounded it bad. Well under 50%, if he had to guess. It was over now, though.

This was what the Chief must have thought.

Slowly Zane began to laugh, a hysterical, gurgling, shaking laugh. The Chief took his face in, and stilled. It must've realized Zane's last trick. It saw it in Zane's open mouth.

He had stuffed that final Fruit in his mouth.

But he hadn't swallowed.