The guild master, nearly choking on his own anger, had placed me in sole charge of dealing with the goblin threat under the pretense of being greatly impressed by my capabilities, so I found myself tracking down the base of monsters that probably numbered in the dozens all by myself.

  Who would have thought my boss would hate being proven wrong right in front of his own superior?

  I sighed.

  — What a bummer. Maybe I should have looked for some bandits around, ripped off their ears, and pretended they were just outlaws attacking caravans.

  I was muttering softly, more subtly than the birdsong around me, when I reached a small clearing, and from it I saw a thin dark line of smoke drifting ahead on the wind.

  — It seems that, unfortunately, I found them after all.

  I proceeded even more cautiously the rest of the way. Since I didn't really expect to be able to defeat the entire goblin settlement that day, but rather just scout it out, I had left most of my equipment in the room I was renting. As such, I was making far fewer sounds than usual, and that, coupled with the poor senses of the monsters in question, allowed me to get impressively close to the creatures' base.

  Two goblins guarded the entrance to a tower of divine metal, similar to the one where I had fought my first battle, First Shadow: solid, opaque, with dozens of attachments of unknown function. However, this particular tower was significantly smaller, rising no higher than the treetops, and it was also partially absorbed by the forest, with moss, grass, and even trees growing across most of its surface.

  Guiding my eyes to the upper part of the structure, I also saw one of the little green creatures carrying a crossbow and lazily scanning the forest with its eyes. Strangely, however, the monster was not seen at the very top of the structure, but in an embrasure on the penultimate floor.

  I remained perfectly still in the bush that hid me and watched the monsters for another two hours, until, with only an hour left until sunset, I found myself observing something more interesting than goblins excreting or arguing about their favorite vermin.

  — Grwah! — one of the guards pointed his spear in a direction.

  — It's us! Idiot — another group of little greenish creatures, five of them, appeared carrying a series of looted objects; nothing more than hooks and arrows and other fishing objects.

  — Did you bring any food? — one of the guards at the door asked.

  — Hehe, yes! DUMB! — replied one of the looting goblins, entering the tower, taking a passage to the left, and apparently descending into a possible basement.

  They had probably changed their loot zones after their last loss in order to draw less attention.

  And with that, I had seen enough. I was about to make my way back to the city and form a plan to invade the goblins’ lair when an especially large figure appeared at the top of the hill, at least twice the size of a goblin, wearing a short coat of chain mail over an even shorter cotton doublet, and a steel helmet.

  — Hobgoblin...

  As slowly and silently as I had approached, I retreated and returned to the city.

  ?

  Having learned what I had learned, I went straight to register a complaint against the local guildmaster, since my mission was basically suicidal. Unfortunately, as much as the secretary understood my situation, it was explained to me that my chances of refusing the job with just cause were slim, considering that Rodrigues was a local minor noble whose family had been handling adventurer affairs for generations, as only impoverished nobles did, and the last time anyone had succeeded in a cause like that, the adventurer in question was already a warrior famous for his beauty and control of words, and already had the support of other noble families due to many ladies and madams being madly in love with him.

  Whether I defected to another city or tried to take any official action, I would lose my reputation and job, and might even be arrested. Knowing that greasy local guild master, he might even be counting on it.

  Therefore, I had no choice but to fight.

  — That's it, those are the dimensions of the boat I'll want, and no, it doesn't have to be anything high-quality as long as it can support the specified weight. Don't insist, because I won't pay extra if you add anything else I didn't ask for — with that, I left the carpenter's shop and headed to the nearest blacksmith, carrying a large wooden box.

  In my investigation, I had confirmed two things: the first was that this was, unfortunately, not just a bunch of deserted or newly spawned goblins with no purpose, not when they were looting objects they would be reluctant to use unless ordered to, like fishing hooks, and seemingly unnecessary things like pots and anchors.

  — Good afternoon, blacksmith. I want to buy your scrap metal.

  And the second thing was exactly what I feared, the presence of a monster that frequently reached Level: 10. Exactly the same as mine, except that as a monster, its base stats already started higher than those of elves, so even my bonus from the Warrior Deacon title made no difference. In fact, it wouldn't be surprising if the creature had invested more in Strength than I had, and could have up to 12 points in the Attribute.

  Having spent the last few minutes pondering the mathematics of the situation, a question I couldn't really do anything about, I sighed. I should just focus on trying to tip the scales in my favor and increase my chances of survival as much as possible.

  — That's enough scrap, blacksmith, I don't want to fill the whole box.

  ?

  Twenty-four hours of preparation later, I found myself rocking terribly from side to side, uncomfortable and in the dark.

  — It rocks too much.

  My experience in war had not been naval (especially because the Tempesternity did not allow much freedom in salt water) and the rocking of the poor vessel I was on affected me much more than I had originally expected. If my resistance had not been superior due to my Strength, I would certainly have been vomiting by now.

  — Urgh, almost makes me wish for the damn goblins.

  — Allah! Look! — a high-pitched, hoarse voice sounded from outside. They had taken the bait.

  — Speak of the devil... — after the involuntary comment, I covered my mouth with my hands again.

  Outside, I heard splashes followed by thuds, then I felt the boat stop being carried by the current.

  The goblins had pulled the raft ashore, and judging by the footsteps around me, they were investigating the mysteriously empty vessel.

  — Is there anyone?

  — It seems not.

  — Look at the box then, you idiot!

  — Grr... You're the idiot...

  I heard the lid of the box I was hiding in being lifted, and then the scrap metal above the false bottom above me being turned over. Looking up and gripping the hilt of my dagger, I prayed to God that the creatures were as delinquent as they seemed. Which turned out to be exactly the case: I heard the lid of the box being closed again.

  — There's only iron here! — the goblin who had poorly investigated my hiding place confirmed.

  — Shit, a box that size must be really heavy... You five, carry this, I'll be on guard!

  — Unfair!

  For the next ten minutes, the golbins argued over who should carry the damn box, so much so that I almost lost my patience and volunteered to carry it myself, but eventually, they finally came to an agreement.

  After a short walk, we reached the old divine tower, forgotten and turned into a base of operations for sapient monsters.

  — Brought food? — asked one of the guard goblins.

  — Nah... just iron — the goblin marauder sounded almost depressed.

  Soon after, I felt the box being tilted as we descended a ladder into the basement of the structure, and moments later, the goblins carelessly dropped the box to the ground.

  — Gur, my back.

  — Heavy crap.

  The creatures grumbled up the stairs, but even when I was sure I was alone down there, I did not leave my hiding place. Instead, I patiently counted to sixteen thousand, a trick taught to me by an old friend named Owl that allowed me to keep track of how much time was passing, and waited until at least three hours after sunset. If this group was being organized even remotely competently by whoever was in charge, most of the goblins would have gone to bed by now, while a minority made the rounds and kept watch over the tower.

  Given the time, I unlocked a pair of latches on the inside of the modified box and slowly let one of its side walls lower to the floor, leaving my hiding place without moving the clanking pile of metal above me.

  The basement of the tower, long ago apparently a kind of prison or something, had several metal cocoons with windows and images of deformed elves with very small ears, but at present it contained only scrap metal, and tools, and looted weapons and armor.

  — This doesn't seem like a small, independent goblin tribe to be searching for so many items. — I frowned, but soon focused again.

  The place was almost completely dark, the only light present coming from the stairs ahead, and once I had confirmed the absence of enemies in that room, I silently proceeded forward.

  Reaching the foot of the stairs, I used a copper mirror to look for enemies, and found one of them immediately: a goblin with a short sword was leaning against the wall of the tower, next to the entrance then sealed by a rustic wooden door, and he was practically sleeping standing up, with his chin hitting his chest, and his arms crossed.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  I didn't hesitate to blow a poison dart at him.

  — Huh? — the goblin put a hand to his neck, as if trying to kill a mosquito, and when he realized that what was sticking into his skin was not an insect, it was too late.

  I ran towards the little creature just in time to grab its body and gently lower it to the ground, thus eliminating the first enemy with practically no noise.

  Moving on, the second floor was devoid of life, containing only firewood and animal bones in what should have been a pantry, but then contained only unwanted remains.

  On the way to the third floor of the tower, I came across the next enemy: a second goblin was watching the forest below from a window, a crossbow in hand.

  This time, however, the creature was wearing armor at least two sizes too big for its own body, and it left me too little space to hit it with a dart, it would be too risky.

  I gripped the hilt of my dagger tightly, and taking advantage of the fact that the monster paid no attention to the interior of the tower, nor expected an attack from that direction, I approached slowly and stealthily, on tiptoe.

  — Oh shit, you incopetent, I told you it's not time for the shift change yet, go back to the fucking... door? — the goblin tiredly rubbed his own face and turned to face me.

  Despite my efforts, I wasn't much superior to an ordinary person when it came to sneaking around, without actually having such a Skill after all.

  Fortunately, I was already just a step away from bringing the enemy within my range, and before he could even point the crossbow at me, I pierced my cold blade into his neck.

  Lending a shoulder to the goblin who was losing strength as fast as he was losing blood, I pulled my dagger back, and the monster's tongue fell out through the same hole I had placed between his chin and throat. I threw the corpse out the window, preferring not to risk waking the hungry creatures with the smell of blood... even though my clothes were already soaked in the green liquid so dark it looked black.

  With my heart beating just a little faster, I walked on, and on the third floor I reached a door on the left, the room located just above the monsters' pantry. The structure was so precarious, however, that it didn't even have a lock; it must have been there only to keep out the light from the torches on the spiral staircase. I pushed the door slightly inward, and as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw a dozen goblins sleeping on mats of leaves, grass, and fur on the floor.

  Controlling my own tremors, I stepped into the dormitory and began the sinister work on the closest enemies, one on the left and one on the right, piercing the enemies' necks with a single stab and taking no more than five seconds to do it, moving on to the next before my last victim even stopped struggling, finishing them off one by one.

  I was halfway through the kill when one of the goblins sat up, wiping the gunk from his eyes with one hand and massaging his growling stomach with the other.

  — I-INVADER!

  I didn't hesitate to blow a poisoned die at the awakened enemy before he could put on any armor, and then break into a sprint out of the dormitory.

  — Shit, shit, shit...! — My hand was shaking too much to unbutton my pocket and reach for the tools I needed. I wished I could have finished off all the goblins without engaging in direct combat, but I had just missed that opportunity.

  — Get him! We have an advantage! — Unfortunately, despite having little intellect, the goblins were not exactly stupid, and they knew well that I had little chance of winning a fight against their superior numbers while fighting on the lower steps of a staircase, and using only a dagger, which nullified my only advantage, my superior reach.

  — Open it, damn it! — Losing my patience, I slid my dagger along the length of the pocket, cutting its leather and letting dozens of caltrops fall down the stairs.

  Immediately afterwards, I threw myself out of the window from which I had thrown the guard a few moments earlier. Or almost: holding onto the roots and vegetation that grew over the metal surface of the tower, I hung on to the outside of the structure, hidden from the enemy horde.

  It didn't take long to hear the fruits of my efforts:

  — OW, OW, OW, OW!

  Monsters stomped on my traps with everything they could, the metal piercing the soles of their feet and sending them tumbling down the stairs and onto even more caltrops, many even taking their companions with them in a desperate attempt to balance themselves.

  — What a rogue son of a-! — a stab straight to the jugular of the goblin standing right in front of the window and facing the confusion that was unfolding right in front of him allowed me to re-enter the tower.

  — Ah, yes. Now I have the strategic advantage — I replied to the three goblins who were getting up, bleeding from numerous holes and cuts caused by the caltrops. At least one of them had his neck in an unnatural position and showed no signs of getting up.

  — Gurr... GRAAH! — one of the creatures ripped one of the metal stars from its cheek and advanced towards me, accompanied by a colleague, both wielding hatchets in one hand and a dagger in the other.

  On the other hand, I drew a second dagger and positioned myself to wait for them. Despite the evident anger in the monsters' eyes, they knew well that throwing themselves at me without thinking would only result in a quick downfall.

  — Grr... At the same time.

  — Right! — they agreed to attack me simultaneously.

  They quickly covered the last few steps between us, raised their hatchets, and brought it down on me. Even though I was dual-wielding, I wasn’t ambidextrous and couldn’t block them in sync. So I targeted the left goblin’s hatchet with a horizontal swing just before his own attack, changing the arc of the monster’s arm just a little, but enough.

  With a wet crunch of blood vessels being ruptured and a dry crunch of metal on bone, the goblin on the right struck his partner's forearm by accident, nearly severing it completely, leaving him hanging on by only a thin line of skin.

  — GAAAARHHH!

  — Ouch! S-Sorry!

  I didn't wait for them to recover, I stepped forward and pierced the uninjured enemy through the eye, at the same time kicking the injured one in the chest, sending him down the stairs again.

  The armless goblin rolled down the steps beyond my sight, beyond even the third and final enemy, who was now alone and holding only a club covered in nails.

  — H-How about we negotiate? — He tried to trick me, cunningly closing one eye, getting used to the darkness, and approaching the torch that illuminated that section of the stairs.

  — No — I threw one of my daggers at the enemy. I missed, but as he jumped to the side, I covered enough ground to reach his chest with my remaining blade and pierce his heart.

  Letting the corpse of the club-bearer fall to the ground, dead, I slowly descended the steps, finding a fourth goblin with no forearms, very pale, leaning against the wall. This one had already bled nearly to death, but I had no reason not to finish him off: I slit his throat without resistance.

  — Only the top floor left — I resumed my ascent, but soon I heard a series of loud bangs approaching quickly. — Damn it! — The dormitory and the exit were all too far away for me to be of any shelter, and something was rolling down the stairs at high speed. I straightened up at the window a second time, and saw a large flaming barrel pass by where I had been just a second before, right in front of my eyes. — Oh, oh, I don't want to go up... — Even though that was true, I really had no other choice, so I continued.

  But in my own way, with my dagger gripped between my teeth and climbing the tower with my own hands and feet from the outside.

  I reached the top of the tower, seemingly undetected, and the place looked more like a miniature garden, with even a tree growing from the ceiling. I soon found my way down, a hole in the ground with a crude staircase made of wood and bones, and using my copper mirror, I saw on the floor below me a humanoid creature about my size, but significantly more muscular, wielding a large axe and a chainmail armor a little too small for him, leaving about four fingers of his belly exposed, and a series of random pieces of steel visibly looted from a myriad of people protecting his extremities. A hobgoblin, a rarer and more powerful version of goblin, which naturally assumed positions of command among its kind.

  For a long minute, I did nothing but watch the monster through the mirror, unsure of what to do, since it would be impossible to go down to its floor undetected to get it from behind, when the hobgoblin made a decision for me: it slowly opened the door in front of it and began to sneak down the stairs.

  — He's going to check if he killed me with the barrel. This is my chance — I went down the wooden and bone stairs, and hid behind the door that the enemy kept ajar.

  I stood there, motionless, for a good five minutes while the hobgoglin checked every corner of the tower before returning to his room.

  — Everyone dead, except the intruder? How am I going to explain this to the Baron? — The monster, significantly more relaxed, entered his room and reached an empty hand to the edge of the door behind which I was hiding.

  And at that moment I pushed the rough piece of wood with my shoulder, hitting the hobgoblin squarely, and quickly guided my dagger against the three fingers of the monster's exposed belly: my steel bit into its green skin, and when I opened my arm to the right, it broke the prison of flesh that kept all the monster's entrails inside its belly, its guts falling at its feet at the same moment.

  — Waaarghh! — The monster quickly retreated, putting a hand to the wound and trying futilely to pull the tubes of flesh back inside itself. — No! No! I can't die, not before I pay my debt to the Baron! — I waited for my opponent's inevitable fall across the room, but to my surprise, when the monster realized that it could no longer keep its guts inside, its expression went from pain and despair to the deepest, reddest and most boiling anger. — If I'm going to die anyway, then I'm taking you with me! — Surprising me so much that I almost didn't know what to do, the hobgoblin used its axe to cut out the guts that were hanging from it, and with its stomach cavity almost completely empty, it advanced towards me. — GUAAAARGHH!

  — But what?! — I barely managed to retreat in time to avoid a downward arc from the enemy's axe.

  The heavy blade of the iron axe hit the desk behind me and split it in one fell swoop.

  — Kurgh! — Losing a lot of blood quickly, the hobgoblin removed his blade from the wooden debris and, ignoring all the damage suffered, attacked me again.

  “Vush! Vush!” the nearly undead enemy swung his weapon with such power that not only did he seem unaffected by the killing blow, he was even stronger than an average member of his race.

  — Baron Zelvron! Today... even if it costs me my life... I will wash one of your enemies with me! — The hobgoblin brandished his axe almost as if it were made of wind, weighing as much as a feather, and with each new blow he missed my body by a fraction of an inch.

  — Shit...! — I originally planned to let the monster use up its last reserves of energy on its own and die soon, but at that rate I would fall before its axe before the hobgoblin succumbed naturally. — Die at once! — With my back almost against the wall, I thrust my dagger at the enemy's head, but with a slight movement of the wooden handle of his axe, my weapon had its trajectory diverted.

  As he watched my arm being pushed upward by the force of his parry, the hobgolin's eyes widened, his fingers tightening on the hilt of his weapon, his lips twitching to reveal yellowed teeth. My posture had been broken, and he knew it.

  Helpless, I could do nothing but watch the axe blade coming toward me. I backed away as far as I could, but I was already too close to the wall, and there was little more I could do to avoid a fatal blow than rely on the solidity of my metal helmet.

  The heavy, jagged, blunt iron tore through my visor more than it cut, however, and bit into my left eye, bursting the orb like a water balloon and tearing off a good portion of my face on the same side, my skin catching between the cracks of the blade and being stretched to its limit before it burst, shredding like a stewed chicken breast. Though the helmet had served its purpose and I had not lost my life outright, the shock and pain were so great that I could not celebrate.

  — AAAAARGH!!! — I roared like a condemned man. And in that situation, I could very well be considered one.

  — You're coming to Hell with me...! — the hobgoblin raised his axe over his head once more, about to put an end to my story. And part of me just wanted him to hurry up with this; my entire body trembled and my torn face became a spring of blood that ran down my neck and dripped from my fingertips, my destroyed eye burning like embers, the agony was so great that I craved relief in any form, even the end of my consciousness. And yet, my most animalistic and primitive part was the one that took control of my body when reason failed me. — Son of a-! — the hobgoblin complained, scraping sparks on the wall behind me, blinded by my own blood, which I threw into his eyes.

  People didn't just accept his death so easily, after all.

  Screaming and yelling and not really able to form a real plan, I ran towards the door of the room, closing it behind me just in time to hear the axe sinking into the wood of the flat piece.

  Practically foaming at the mouth, I ran down the stairs like a lunatic, taking the steps three, four, five at a time, clutching my crushed and cracked visor, which was still stuck in the empty hole that had become my left eyeball, and my grazed cheek, trying to steady the helmet so it wouldn't move up and down as I hurried away, making my injury worse. And still, I wasn't fast enough: I heard the hobgoblin right behind me on the stairs.

  — NO! — Literally with tears of blood washing down my face, I looked over my shoulder and leaned against the nearest wall, my stamina having run out much faster than I would have preferred due to blood loss.

  What I saw, however, was not an immortal hobgoblin relentlessly chasing me, but a hollow-abdominal corpse rolling down the stairs. My last enemy was finally dead.

  Still leaning against the wall, I slid to the floor, and the relief was so great that, for a brief fraction of a second, I almost forgot about the immeasurable pain on the left side of my face.

  Once the adrenaline of pursuit and extermination had left my system, I found enough reason in myself to endure the pain of removing the destroyed helmet, sanitizing the wound beneath it, and properly stopping my bleeding by performing first aid.

  The next day, I returned to the guild with a dozen goblin heads, and one hobgoblin head... much to Rodrigues' dissatisfaction, for whom, apparently, losing an eye and half of my face was not punishment enough for having embarrassed him.

  I was immediately promoted to the position of expert adventurer, and sent on an even more dangerous mission, where this time, both my guild master and I were both certain that I would definitely die.