I’d gotten more familiar with the affinities over the past two weeks. And, I’d managed to single out the most dangerous ones among their ranks.

  Despair was universally hated due to its ties to necromancy, while Pain, Apathy, and Wrath numbered among the best in terms of pure damage. Hatred was another fearsome affinity that, aside from the use of curses, allowed the user to create mysterious illnesses.

  Compared to those five, Fear’s only source of infamy was its connection to the Lord of Terror. It helped create effective Assassins, but users of Fear would never be able to obliterate a battlefield or bury a third of the world in ice. Other affinities too excelled at what they did best . . . as long as they were placed in the right hands.

  The goblin’s hands counted as such.

  Contrition spilled out of him and pinned me in place, heavy with the weight of unnatural gravity. I’d expected gravitational control to work best on a caster, but the Goblin Captain integrated it into his fighting style with ease.

  Such was the weight of the force pressing down on me that the sounds of my cracking bones reached my ears. I had no hope of moving in that situation, so I did the next best thing.

  A dark mass of shadows intercepted the goblin, unhindered by the increased gravity. The attack forced the little bastard back into the water, ending his control over the area. I used the momentary breather to gather myself, and then the next wave of shadows chased after him.

  The goblin flew.

  Maybe flight wasn’t the right word to use, but he glided across the water’s surface to avoid my attack. He rushed back inland toward me, again without touching the ground.

  Not good.

  I avoided his charge by relying on every point of my Grand Dexterity. The goblin reoriented himself as he blew past and pivoted in a manner that revealed an absence of weight. His strike, however, landed like a meteor against my blade, shattering the steel into numerous tiny pieces.

  Quick reflexes saved me from being stabbed in the chest, but I missed his little green foot which collided with my gut. It was my turn then to crash into the drink. Water bubbled up my nostrils and ears.

  “Foolish elf.” The goblin laughed.

  I floundered in the water and ordered [Silhouette] back into the fray. It rose from my shadow on the water's surface, looking like a beast of void.

  The goblin dodged the tendrils by darting about at rapid speed. He even performed a handstand mid-dodge as though in mockery.

  Now you’ve done it.

  I triggered [Fear Aura]: an action that made the forest seem a little bit darker. [Silhouette] shuddered in delight, approving of the change.

  Goblin Captain has resisted [Dismay]!

  Oh, come on!

  Nevertheless, the goblin stumbled and came to a stop. He glanced at me with a perturbed expression. “You dare?”

  “Of course, I do,” I said. “What does that even mean?”

  “You aren’t allowed to have that affinity!”

  “Why? Because it’s the same as your benefactor’s?”

  “You aren’t allowed! You disrespect the Lord of Terror!”

  I chewed on his words. “Are you saying that the Lord of Terror is somewhere in these lands? Are they responsible for [Nightfall]?”

  “I say nothing.” The goblin adopted a fighting stance. “Now that I am here, you have two things to answer for.”

  The ground around him trembled. Loose pebbles levitated into the air. I floated still in the water, but I could recognize a dangerous technique when I saw one.

  “I will be your annihilation,” the goblin said, and then he punched the air with his unarmed fist.

  I didn’t wait to see what happened. The space above me parted with the roar of displaced air. I dove into the water one second faster, avoiding the invisible force by the skin of my teeth. It broke the water’s surface, parting an area in a straight line into two equal waves.

  That ability would break bones and decimate HP if it connected. How was this even legal for a non-caster class? Granted, monsters couldn’t use classes like the [System] races did, which theoretically put them at a disadvantage. None of those theories would matter, however, if I got hit with that technique.

  Gathering my wits about me, I plunged deeper into the water. [Stealth] could apparently be used while swimming which facilitated my escape. I crossed the lake in total silence and surfaced at another point, hidden by trees. The Goblin Captain stood a short distance away, watching for my reemergence with sharp, yellow eyes.

  It was times like this that I enjoyed being an Assassin. What was the point of fancy techniques if one didn’t possess the sneakiness to use them?

  I snuck up to the goblin and jabbed a long knife into his nape.

  It shattered on contact.

  “Found you,” the goblin said, and then he hit me with a punch that scrambled my intestines.

  His little fist struck with the force of a speeding car made of titanium, powered by propulsion engines.

  Contrition, it seemed, allowed him to not only lighten his mass but also increase it. It explained how my first knife had broken on contact with his, and how the second had failed to scratch his skin.

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  My HP went from ninety percent to sixty in that one punch. But, the goblin didn’t let up. He adjusted his footing and followed up with another beam of invisible force.

  [Silhouette] rose in a wall, composed of three layers. Each layer crumbled after the other, leaving the residual force to slam into my gut.

  It propelled me backward into a tree and left me lying wounded against the trunk. The only reason I didn’t become a smear in the forest was [Silhouette] which absorbed most of the damage.

  My health meter fell by another thirty percent, regardless, and turned a deep red. Blood spewed from my mouth onto my cuirass which hung mangled on my chest.

  “Ouch . . .”

  Deep in my shadow, [Silhouette] curled up in slumber; down for the count until it could reform itself.

  “Elves, humans, dwarves,” the goblin said as though each name was a curse, “always the same. Just because you are [System] species doesn’t make you better than us.”

  Huh? I could barely hear a word.

  I had definitely suffered a concussion: one type of damage that health armor offered little protection against. Nevertheless, if there was one thing I’d learned from goblins, it was the inability to go quietly into the night.

  “Do lions care about the opinions of sheep?” I wheezed.

  “What?”

  “You said it yourself. I’m a [System] species, and you’re a fucking monster. An animal of similar worth to goats and horses.” I adopted a bloody grin because even though I didn’t believe that, I needed to say anything to buy time until my head stopped hurting.

  “And yet,” the goblin said, “here you are lying wounded at the hands of said animal. Your party of supposed rankers didn’t notice that they were being followed—didn’t even sense the trap until it had been sprung! You only survived by way of sheer luck!”

  “Yes. A scorpion might kill a man with its sting, and a pack of wolves could maul him, but none of that makes either animal a higher being.”

  “I am better than you. Our difference in ability proves it!”

  “So, why then do my kind, not yours, hold dominion over the world?”

  “Because your people destroy.”

  “No. We create and destroy in equal measure.” The black spots faded from my vision. Any moment now. “You were simply born less. Like cockroaches, you infest and invade our places of habitat. You may even establish nests with thousands of brothers and sisters.

  “Ultimately, however, you are doomed to be squashed beneath our feet. While we build towering monuments and reach for the stars, you will never amount to much beyond vermin.” I laughed despite the pain. “This is because we are created greater, and you are less.”

  The words flowed like poison from my tongue. Who would have thought the secret to outperforming goblins in trash-talking lay not in insults but in intelligent-sounding arguments? Granted, everything I’d said was hot trash. But, my motto in Vizhima was: win by any means necessary.

  The goblin kept his eyes downcast, fist going pale green around The Blackreach Dagger. He struggled to make an argument, but goblin education didn’t equip him with the tools.

  Eventually, he snarled and sprayed spittle on the ground. “Then, try to beat me if you’re so great, fucking elf maggot!”

  He charged at blinding speed with the dagger aimed at my throat.

  “Chain Nail, bitch.”

  The heavy chain—which I’d prepared in anticipation—flew from my palm. It slapped his wrist and knocked The Blackreach Dagger out of it—or so I’d hoped.

  Instead, the Chain Nail bounced off, repelled by a sheath of gravitational waves that flowed from the dagger. Nana’s weapon could absorb the affinity of its wielder. How could I forget?

  The goblin spun in midair like a drill. I threw the last of my Vital Points into [Impostor]—

  He slammed into the tree.

  His attack missed my chest, thanks to [Impostor] shrinking me by approximately three feet. He pulverized the spot above my head, causing the entire trunk to collapse beneath his mass.

  I rolled out of range and wrapped the chains around my arms.

  The goblin blanched. “You . . . Stop! Stop wearing my face!”

  Oh, right. I had chosen the first image I could think of in that split second, which ended up belonging to the goblin opposite me.

  I struck a silly pose and imitated his mannerisms. “I knew you were inferior, but goddamn, wearing your body puts it into perspective.”

  The goblin howled.

  A wave of crushing force descended from the sky and forced me to the ground. The damage inflicted surpassed the ten percent threshold, dispelling [Impostor]. My lungs burned like they had ruptured in my chest. Muddy ground embraced my slender knees.

  The goblin wasted no time with words. He moved with purpose, wielding the Contrition-coated dagger. One blow from that blade was all it would take to end my life. And, with [Silhouette] regenerating in my shadow, I didn’t stand a chance.

  I needed something. Anything at all to turn the tide. I could still crane my neck and move my fingers. What did I have in my inventory? Byron’s loot?

  No . . .

  The goblin dove for the kill.

  At the same time, I threw an item at his feet. Sunlight glinted off the surface of The Mirror of Remembrance: One of the few treasures I’d retained from the dungeon.

  The goblin stumbled as his gaze fell onto the mirror. Gravity returned to normal. The Mirror of Remembrance pulled anyone who stared at its surface into a vivid dream: one in which I had seen my mother. The dream lasted however long it took in the mirror world, but out here, in reality, only a single second passed.

  I didn’t know what the goblin saw, but it was enough to break his control over gravity. I tackled him to the ground before he could use another technique or increase his mass.

  The goblin did the latter only to find both of his arms fused by his gauntlets to the ground. He strained against the Chain Nails with all his might, but the Meld perk wasn’t easily dismissed. He next tried to lighten his weight, but the results remained the same. Any objects fused by the Chain Nails became inseparable.

  I grabbed The Blackreach Dagger from where it had fallen and grinned at the goblin. Pouring Fear into its blade, I descended on the little bastard and carved him up.

  The enhanced ranker-grade weapon cut through his increased mass with minimal difficulty. He resisted at first, but with his most dangerous abilities on cooldown, he succumbed in short order.

  The goblin released a wet, raggedy breath as I pressed the bloodied dagger to his throat.

  “Spill,” I said. “Who commands the horde? A Goblin Prince or Goblin Calamity?”

  The little bastard laughed.

  “What about the Fear user? Who is behind [Nightfall]?” I made an incision into his throat to get my point across.

  The goblin glared at me, looking but not quite seeing. “You [System] species and your dirty tricks. You only defeated me because of the benefit of inventory.”

  I couldn’t let him talk his way out of a cooldown. I put weight on the dagger, wetting my hand with blood. “Spill!”

  “Hrrgh . . . I have nothing to tell you, elf. I had no intention of leaving alive anyway if I lost this fight.”

  “This isn’t the time for pride, fool. I can spare you if you give me what I need.”

  “Is that what lower animals do?” the goblin said. “Betray promises for the sake of survival?” A single tear rolled down his cheek. “I won’t do so because I am not less. I am not.”

  Oh, man. What was this? Why didn’t he go out shrieking and fighting for his life?

  My dagger hand wavered for a second. And then, I steeled myself and claimed the kill.

  Goblin blood flowed freely to the ground.

  A sour taste bloomed on my tongue.