Cool wind flitted past my face.

  Boundless energy surged up my veins as I slunk through the undergrowth, encased in shadows.

  [Nightfall] was incredible. The eerie technique covered Dreadwood in a sheet of inky blackness, flowing from the sky to the ground without any seams. Under its influence, I became one with the shadows in a way I couldn’t explain, as though there were no boundaries between my skin and the darkness that blanketed it.

  Every step I took filled me with indescribable emotion. The forest seemed sharper and deadlier; bursting with life. The sounds of Dreadwood at night time erupted like a live band in my head. Even the kiss of the wind on naked skin lingered like a lover’s touch, spurring me to greatness . . . to longing . . . to dread.

  I understood now why [Silhouette] wanted to explore, but I didn’t wander for the sake of doing so.

  I wandered for the goblins.

  The nasty critters enjoyed the night as much as I did if Dilwan’s words were to be believed. They would also be on the prowl, probably toward or away from the earlier column of smoke.

  I needed to get a sense of scale, of the kind of numbers the goblin forces could muster. More than that, I needed to see them in action during [Nightfall]. And, there was no safer time than now to do so.

  Unsurprisingly, the markers in the Party System that pointed me in the direction of potential teammates were also ideal for finding ongoing battles.

  It took some time to navigate through the wide expanse of forest, but I quickly learned three things.

  One: We had underestimated the extent of goblin influence. Goblin patrols marched on predetermined routes through the forest, defending territory they had won from the elves.

  I refrained from killing any members of the patrols—even though I could do so in a heartbeat—because I didn’t trust my ability to restrain [Silhouette] from committing wanton violence. The patrols were made up of the runts of the litter anyway, Goblin Scouts and Soldiers, who were still dangerous enough and armed to the teeth.

  Secondly, Martial victory alone didn’t explain how the goblins had managed to proliferate throughout Dreadwood. They probably had ways to conceal their movements, and I soon uncovered a few.

  Tunnels.

  The goblins had established a multitude of them across the forest. They used those tunnels to coordinate their forces and transport large numbers of units without leaving tracks. A lot of patrols seemed to appear out of nowhere only to vanish completely a few hours later. The tunnels were also difficult to find with the naked eye, and if I couldn’t find them under [Nightfall], I doubted the Wood Elves fared much better.

  The third bit of information I gleaned was that, despite the circumstances, the Wood Elves retained the upper hand. Dilwan’s village might have fallen in record time, but the same didn’t hold for the rest of the elves. For now, at least.

  A squad of goblins had assaulted an elven outpost only to perish gruesomely in the attempt. The outpost had subsequently been abandoned, but not before the goblins paid the price. The smoke that had risen earlier came from the aftermath of an ambush involving two large groups, which had ended in elven victory, judging by the signs.

  Further inspection revealed an area that the goblin patrols avoided by a rather wide berth. That area teemed with the markers of potential recruits: the Wood King’s domain.

  Even from a distance, I could taste the potent magic in the air. This was a region that didn’t wither in the face of [Nightfall]: one that could also prove hostile to me.

  To complete the first part of our quest, we needed to visit the Wood King. Only then could I focus on confirming the fate of the Harkoneans.

  By the time I made it back to the others, the sun had begun climbing into the sky.

  Kajal watched me with cold eyes, lips drawn tightly across her face.

  “Wait,” I said before she could speak. “This was important. I work so well under darkness, it would have been foolish to avoid scouting in it.”

  “What’s foolish,” she said with a sigh, “is failing to inform your party members before you went off on your own. No one needs a teammate who doesn’t listen to instructions.”

  “What if I told you that I managed to figure out how the goblins spread rapidly through Dreadwood?”

  Kajal’s eyes sharpened. “How?”

  “They are using tunnels.”

  “Tunnels?”

  “It’s not unheard of,” Medekeine said. “The goblins avoid tunneling out of their mountain for fear of encounters with dwarves, but it has always been a possibility.” He stroked his chin. “The Lords of Alam? hold stewardship over these lands. They control the entirety of The World Under throughout northern Vizhima from Dreadwood down to Kholindon. Goblin exploration of this scale would not go unnoticed . . .”

  “Yet, it has thus far,” I said. “These tunnels weren’t constructed in the days preceding the invasion or even in weeks. They were holed out far ahead in advance of this fight.”

  “The Tinfolk would not permit—”

  “Well, it’s either your people knew about it and chose not to take action, or they didn’t. They sent you up here, after all. Maybe their awareness of The World Under isn’t as expansive as you think.”

  Medekeine furrowed his brows.

  “Damien,” Kajal said, “what are the chances that any of those tunnels stretch toward Skeelie?”

  “Impossible to say. Though if I’m a goblin leader establishing a network to facilitate attack, why stop at Dreadwood? If they plan to assault human cities eventually, it only makes sense to extend construction.”

  Kajal groaned. “Ezin will need to know this.”

  “There’s more.” I explained the situation between the goblin patrols and the Wood King’s domain.

  Kajal listened attentively. “So, you believe that the elves aren’t in danger of losing?”

  “The Wood King’s position seems unassailable. But, the goblins have succeeded in isolating the villages from each other and the center. That doesn’t bode well.”

  “For all of us.” Kajal glanced at Medekeine. “What do you think about this?”

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  The dwarf, who had been lost in thought since his last words, stirred. “I say that we get the portion of the quest that involves the Wood King over and done with. We need to uncover the truth about the goblins, which might lead us down one of those tunnels.”

  I shuddered to think of it, of fighting in clustered spaces far below the Earth. But, the possibility had always existed ever since we stepped out of Skeelie.

  It wouldn’t result in a complete disaster, would it?

  Kajal relayed a message to Ezin.

  She achieved this by way of a leatherbound book which she wrote in.

  “It’s a Scribbler,” she explained. “It’s been enchanted to allow communication between two linked books.”

  “Can I buy a pair from you for one gold piece?” I asked.

  Kajal snorted. “I wouldn’t sell them for ten gold pieces even if I owned a pair. Ezin has access to resources we can only dream of. This is one of them.” She dumped the book in her inventory. “He’ll reply once he sees the message. In the meantime, we need to come up with a plan to sneak past the patrols.”

  The best way I could think of involved avoiding the patrol routes; the ones I’d memorized anyway. The goblins showed a massive reduction in activity during the daytime, allowing us to cover some ground.

  The worst obstacles turned out to be the Wild God’s pets. They had gotten even bolder in the chaos, and it didn’t help that they occupied the places outside the paths that we now had to take. Between the three of us—and Div—we managed to avoid suffering any casualties despite a few close calls.

  Div proved to be a capable support unit when she didn’t overightly overpower monsters with brute strength. Her healing ability could be used at range, and she rarely took damage even when surrounded by foes.

  We had just been entwined by a strange vine-like creature, when golden light flared from her position, freeing her limbs. She then proceeded to rip the monster to shreds with her bare hands with some help from Kajal.

  I whistled aloud. “Incredible.”

  “Don’t get used to relying on her,” Medekeine warned.

  The creature Div had killed turned out to be a Primal Dread Creeper LVL 34. Medekeine claimed the loot under a clause in the [System] mechanics that allowed Div’s last hits to also count for him.

  “Why are you so hostile toward her anyway?” I asked him as Div resumed pulling the wagon.

  “I’ll tell you when it has anything to do with you,” he said.

  Touché.

  We traveled like that for a while with frequent interruptions until I directed my teammates to take cover. “Goblins!”

  We crept up a mound. The wagon couldn’t come with us, so we abandoned it in the forest. A squad of goblins, whom I’d thankfully heard from a distance away, crept along the forest floor below us, seemingly following our tracks.

  “Ugly fuckers,” Medekeine whispered. “I see Goblin Scouts and Soldiers, however. No Sorcerers in sight. We can take them.”

  I confirmed with [Identify]. “How can you tell the difference?”

  “Just look at their builds. The Scouts are all short—shorter than regular goblins anyway—with lithe, lean physiques. The Soldiers are burlier and much rounder in the belly. They also tend to favor heavier weapons: maces and clubs.”

  The goblins snuck closer to our last position, where the wagon still stood.

  “Usually,” Medekeine said, “the quality of goblin classes we encounter is a good indicator of how large the horde has become. Goblins evolve into Scouts and Workers in peacetime, ruled by Chiefs.

  “As conflicts erupt among them, Soldiers, Sorcerers, and Engineers begin to appear. The onset of a goblin horde, however, sees the most promising among them advance into more powerful classes. Soldiers become Captains. Sorcerers become Grandmeisters. Engineers become Geniuses. And, Scouts and Workers transform to the more effective Riders and Rovers.”

  “And, the Chiefs?” I asked.

  “Where else do you think Goblin Princes emerge from? The strongest of the chiefs become Princes. And, from those—”

  “A Goblin Calamity,” I finished.

  The goblins found our lost wagon and started squealing among themselves.

  “Attack,” Kajal said. “Now.”

  An arrow fell between the eyes of one Goblin Soldier. He reeled backward, wounded but not dead, and then he picked the fallen arrow from the ground. His eyes widened with recognition, but a second missile ended the cry on his lips.

  More arrows plummeted upon the group, erupting with affinities of Apathy, Pain, and Joy. The goblins tried to mount a defense, but they had been caught utterly unaware.

  I turned to Kajal. “I don’t suppose you planned that. Because that’s so cool.”

  “No . . .” she said. “It isn’t me.”

  A group of Wood Elves bounded into view, dressed in leather armor and Cloaks of Viridian Gleam: an item that held a cherished spot in my heart. The Cloaks helped camouflage the wearers out in the wild; the perfect tool for Rangers and other rogues.

  The elves that assailed the goblins weren’t mere rogues, however. They sallied in on reindeer—actual reindeer—and attacked from atop their mounts. The first set of riders remained at bay, firing their bows. A second set chased after the scattered goblins and butchered them like mice.

  The tactic proved as effective as it was gruesome, enough that no goblin remained breathing in five minutes flat. The Wood Elves cantered around our wagon on their over-large deers, surprised by its presence.

  Kajal ordered a descent from our position, using gestures to communicate for fear of triggering the sensitive hearing of the elves.

  A Wood Elf blocked our path.

  “What’s this?” he said and cocked his beautiful head of dark brown hair. “Humans and dwarves in Dreadwood at this time?! Is this the start of a coalition?”

  “It could be,” Kajal said.

  The Wood Elf brandished an ōdachi. My heart skipped a beat at the memory of the last Samurai I had fought and his goddamn [Riposte]. True to form, [Identify] placed this elf as a level 37 Samurai.

  “Distasteful,” he said. “We will not abide humans soiling Dreadwood in their numbers! The same can be said about dwarves.”

  Distasteful?

  “You there.” He jutted his chin at me. “Can the Nanduli? stoop any lower? What business do you have with these two? Or has your recent mishap taught you no better?”

  Recent mishap? Did he mean the destruction of Harkonean?

  Medekeine chuckled. “Time again without fail, I am reminded of the reasons why I hate the elves. Each time I meet a new one, I feel like punching their face in.”

  The Samurai tightened his grip on his sword. “You misunderstand your current position.”

  “You, on the other hand, are too stupid for misunderstandings. Is open hostility the best the elves can think of to survive the horde?”

  “There is no horde. Just a rabble of errant goblins whom we would soon expel . . . after we deal with you.”

  Kajal interjected before Medekeine could worsen the situation. “We’re emissaries from Skeelie. Here to help the war effort.”

  “There is no war,” the Samurai said.

  “Be that as it may,” Kajal continued smoothly. “The Wood King requested our services. We come bearing supplies from the merchant guild, including the cargo you see below.”

  “It’s rock oil, sir,” one of the Wood Elves who inspected the wagon shouted from below.

  “Rock oil?” the Samurai repeated.

  “From the finest oil seep in Bargheria,” Kajal said. “We also have food, weapons, and leather. Iron ore too and refined steel. Just about anything you could think of to assist you in wartime.”

  The Samurai narrowed his gaze. “There is no war! Do you take me for a liar?”

  Yes.

  “Either way,” he said. “I must ask you to leave all those items behind.”

  Kajal scowled. “We are with the guild—”

  “The merchants will receive their payment in full once we have conveyed the items to the Wood King.”

  That sounded dubious. “No can do,” I said.

  Kajal concurred. “I’m under strict orders to exchange cargo after confirming payment. If you do not have the means to complete the transaction at this moment, I am fine with waiting until you are ready.”

  The Samurai speared his sword into the ground and leaned forward with a smile. He was a handsome one, in the eerie bug-eyed way Wood Elves tended to be. “Only the worthy may enter the Wood King’s domain. And, since our outposts are closed at the moment, you only have me to deal with. That was my best offer.” He glanced lazily at his sword. “The alternative, however . . .”

  Below us, the squad of Wood Elves brandished their weapons. About fifteen of them surrounded our position, still mounted on reindeer. This wouldn’t be easy.

  Medekeine spat at the Samurai’s feet. He ordered Div to his side and adopted a fighting stance. “Very well. What are we waiting for then? Let it not be said that a dwarf would ever pass up a chance to trade blows with an elf.”

  “Indeed,” the Samurai said and swung his sword.