by Kyle Vauss
“I only had the chance to kill their healer,” I said. “Crawford shot Loria, and that screwed up the plan.”
Without wasting another second, I kneeled next to Loria. I opened a healing potion and made her drink it.
“We need more illusions,” I said. “Anything to make us harder to hit.”
Loria rubbed her head. She stood up. “My bloody mana’s gone. Crawford’s arrows must have some sort of effect on them, because my bar won't refill.”
This was all we needed. With the numbers against us, we had to use every advantage available. Crawford had just taken a big one away from us.
I looked on as his mercs advanced from the left. Crawford moved toward us from the center, approaching the gates of the village. His mount stomped forward, and his remaining mercs and neeves were at his side.
Fighting hand to hand in the village was the last thing we needed. With Loria’s mana gone and some of Gabber’s goblins dead, our chances weren’t great.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Crawford pulled his mount to a stop just outside the village gates. When it was even nearer, the Herecki looked ridiculously huge, like a dinosaur mixed with a bear. I couldn’t even imagine having to fight that thing, and I was glad that its tendencies were to run, rather than attack.
The hunter held his bow in his hand and approached the village gates with a confident strut. His mercs and neeves filed behind. At the back, I saw a face that filled me with hate. It was Dagnor. He wore new robes, completely black, and tapped a new staff on the ground as he walked.
I gritted my teeth. I wanted nothing more than to run my sword through Dagnor’s stomach. I needed to hold back on my anger and weigh up our options.
“Gabber,” I said. “Can you keep Crawford and his men busy for a few minutes?”
“I don’t know, Tom. They outnumber us.”
“I just need to get Loria into a shack and let her rest until her mana debuff wears off.”
Gabber looked at the remaining goblins in his army. They stared at him, hanging off every movement he made, waiting for his commands.
“The chief armor lets me boost their morale for a while in battle,” said Gabber. “It won’t last long, but it will give us an edge.”
Crawford was walking toward us now. His neeves walked at his sides, though they moved with less of a prowl and more of a stomp. It seemed that Crawford had made changes before the battle. He’d either bought arrows with a mana-draining effect, or he’d taken a skill that did the same thing. Added to that, he’d also fitted his neeves with battle armor. He was taking this seriously.
“Okay,” I told Gabber. “Do that. Get them fighting. Just hang back. Don’t engage him, and take as little damage as possible. The point is to hold him off until Loria’s mana is recharged.”
“And what then?” asked Gabber.
“And then Loria will be able to cast copies of us. It’ll look like there are more of us, and they won’t know which ones to hit. It’ll give us the advantage.”
Gabber turned to his goblin fighters. He stood up straight. A light seemed to gather around him. The daylight cast a shadow, making him look bigger. I realized that he looked taller and stronger. He looked like a real chief.
He turned to his warriors and bellowed at them. Although he spoke the goblin language, my new affinity allowed me to understand his words.
“This is it,” he shouted. “If we win today, we’re strong enough to take back my clan. You might look like little runts, but you’re not. You’re warriors. Do yourselves proud. Fight to the end. Don’t let them win!”
With that, he raised his axe in the air. Together with his fighters, he charged forward to meet Crawford and his army.
I didn’t have a second to lose. I grabbed Loria and guided her away from the center of the village and toward a shack at the end. We needed to keep her away from Crawford’s arrows long enough for the debuff to wear off and for her mana to recharge.
The sounds of battle grew behind me. I heard the goblins shriek out in anger. I heard the sound of metal meeting metal, and neeves crying in pain.
We reached a shack at the end of the village. Just as we were about to step in, I heard a voice.
“I’m sorry it has to come to this.”
I turned. It was Dagnor. He approached us, his black robes billowing in the wind. I felt anger flare in me.
“What are you going to do?” I said. “Pull another scroll? Think you’ll have time to read it before I run my sword through your belly?”
He scoffed. “Not this time, Tamos. I don’t need scrolls anymore. Crawford saw to that.”
He opened his hands out wide. A pale blue light gathered in his palms. He was using a real spell. No scrolls this time; it was real magic. Crawford must have paid for his class change.
The blue light began to take a solid form. Even stood ten feet away, I could feel the cold emanating from it. It was some kind of ice spell.
Dagnor looked at me, and then Loria, as if he was weighing up who to hit. I couldn’t afford to let Loria take damage. Until the mana debuff wore off, I couldn’t let her get hurt.
As Dagnor looked at Loria and raised his hands above his head, I dived in front of her. The ice left Dagnor’s hands and flew through the air. It hit me in the chest, knocking the wind out of me. Ice spread onto my chest and then up my arms. I felt my health bar drain and my movements slowed. As well as doing damage, his spell must have had an agility debuff.
“I’m too strong for you,” he said. “You mocked my scrolls, but you aren’t laughing now, are you?”
He gathered another ball of ice in his palm. I took a deep breath. I just needed to get close enough to hit him. I quickly grabbed Loria and pushed her into the shack.
As Dagnor aimed his ice spell, I cast Minor Illusion, creating a hologram copy of myself. I stepped to the side. Dagnor looked confused, and he didn’t know which copy of me to aim at. Taking advantage, I ran at him.
Dagnor let loose with his spell, but he realized too late that he’d fired it at my illusion. The ice hit my hologram, and the effect disappeared.
I reached him, focused my energy, and then slashed his neck with my sword. Dagnor groaned and then stumbled back. His health dropped to just a quarter.
“I bet you wished you’d stayed as a barbarian,” I said. “Mages can’t take physical damage.”
Dagnor reached into his robe pocket and pulled out a mana potion. Without giving him chance to drink it, I struck him again. This time I slashed my blade down his chest. Dagnor screamed, stumbled back, and then fell to the ground.
His eyes closed and his body began to evaporate. I’d sent him to respawn. A warmth filled me. I’d never killed a player before, and I’d always thought that it would feel wrong. It wasn’t the case. When I looked at Dagnor’s body as it left Infarna, I was glad I’d killed him.
Over in the center of the village, Crawford was firing his bolts at Gabber’s goblins. Despite their agility, he caught two of them with his arrows, and they fell to the ground. Gabber wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer.
Loria walked out of the shack. Her steps were shaky, but she looked on with grim determination.
“I’m ready,” she said.
We ran toward the center of the village. As we sprinted, Loria readied her copy spell. I looked on in dismay when I realized we were too late.
Gabber was backed up against the wall of a shack. Two of Crawford’s neeves advanced on him, teeth showing, battle armor reflecting the light. Even though his chief armor would let him take a few blows, his weapon wouldn’t be able to penetrate their armor. I wouldn’t be able to reach them in time.
Crawford fired his bow, dropping another goblin fighter. One of the goblins to the left held its hand axe and leapt toward a merc, burying the blade in the warrior’s shoulder.
The neeves prowled toward Gabber. Just as they were about to leap, Gabber started to speak to them. He made a series of growling noises, which gradually softened. The neeves stopped.
They looked from side to side, as if wondering what to do. Gabber strode forward. Amazingly, the neeves didn’t attack him. Instead, they let him stroke their heads.
He must have tamed them, I realized. Gabber pointed at Crawford, and suddenly, the neeves bounded toward their old master.
As they sprinted at him, the look on the hunter’s face told me that he’d realized his neeves had been turned against him. He held his crossbow up and aimed at them, but then he hesitated.
He couldn’t kill them. I knew that Crawford held great affection toward his pets. He was caught between needing to defend himself, and being unable to harm his own creatures.
Loria and I joined the fray in the center of the village. We were still outnumbered now, but Loria cast her illusion, and copies of us shimmered in the air. Now, it looked like there were three of each of us, and that extended to Gabber’s goblin warriors.
It was the advantage we needed. The mercs, looking around in confusion, swiped at anything in their way. More often than not they hit hologram copies rather than the real thing. That left them open to counter blows from the goblins. Warriors and hunters screamed as hand axes slashed at them.
Crawford bellowed out in rage. He raised his crossbow, closed his eyes, then fired at his neeves. His arrows stuck his pets in the neck, finding their way through gaps in their armor. Crawford dropped his arm to his side, lowering his crossbow, unable to believe what he’d done.
He looked up and stared at Gabber. “I just wanted Father’s approval,” he cried, his face twisted by rage. “Who are you to take that from me?”
I felt sorry for him. His face was twisted in rage, an expression so exaggerated that if it were on anyone else, I’d have thought they were acting. Crawford was a grown man, yet inside, he was still the young boy who had been raised by the nanny. The little boy who begged for his father’s attention but didn’t get it.
I had to stop him. If Crawford won, it wouldn’t help him. His father wouldn’t care about his achievement, and he’d just move onto the next way to earn his affection. If he lost, maybe there was a way back for him. Maybe it’d force him to look at himself and realise that he didn’t need approval.
I fixed my sights on him. It was now or never. I needed to take advantage of his lack of focus.
As the goblins battled the mercs, Gabber concentrated on the remaining neeves. With his Animal Tame skill used, he resorted to using Animal Whisper. It wouldn’t let him turn the neeves into allies, but it meant he could sow discord in them. It would make them attack not just the goblins, but also the mercs as well.
The battle turned into chaos. Nobody knew who to hit. Mercs slashed at goblins only to find that they had hit a hologram copy. Some neeves pounced on goblins and tore at their throats. Others, heeding Gabber’s whispers, turned on the mercs.
I approached Crawford. I parried any blows that came my way as I passed warrior mercs. The sounds of battle dug into my skull. All I could hear was the songs of metal meeting metal, and cries of pain as blades lashed across flesh. It was horrible.
Finally, I stood six feet away from Crawford. The hunter looked up at me. A look of hate crossed his face.
“Tom Amos,” he said. “You still aren’t strong enough, you know. You’re a worm.”
He dropped his crossbow on the ground. He reached to his belt and pulled out two daggers, one for each hand.
“I’m too powerful for you. Do you really think you have a chance hand to hand?”
He was right, I knew. Crawford was above me in levels. It meant that his agility, strength and defence stats would be better than mine. But I had two things that he didn’t. One, was my goblin shadow armor. The second, was a cantrip.
Crawford ran at me, daggers raised. I felt a searing pain in my shoulder as Crawford stabbed a dagger into me. He was an expert at finding gaps in armor, it seemed.
I stumbled back. My health bar was just above a quarter, and I had to pick my next move carefully. If I took a second to drink a potion, I’d leave myself open to attack.
Instead, I raised my sword. Crawford lashed out with his right dagger, but I turned to the side, and the blow glanced off my armor. I advanced on him, sword ready, arms tensed.
Crawford was incensed by anger. Rather than fighting strategically, he rushed at me again. This was good. He wasn’t thinking clearly, and I could use his rage against him.
He stabbed out with a dagger. There was such anger in his attack that a red light gathered around his dagger. It would be a critical hit. Armor or no armor, it would finish me off.
Just as he reached me, I focused the last dregs of my mana and cast Blade Turn. The cantrip spread through me, hardening me against weapon attacks. It neutralized Crawford’s dagger just as he hit me.
I swung my sword and caught him with a counter blow, slashing a cut down his side. Crawford stumbled back. His health bar dropped, and I saw blood well at the wound my weapon had made.
He came at me again. The fury was so deep inside him that he wasn’t thinking clearly, and instead he lashed out at me. Blade Turn protected me from his attacks, and with each blow he made, I struck a counter of my own.
Finally, he stepped back. His body was covered in wounds. His health was below a quarter now. One more blow from me, and he was done.
“You think you’re clever,” he said, gathering himself. “You ruined my achievement. But I don’t care anymore. All I care about is killing that little goblin of yours. And you know what, Tom? You won’t be able to stop me.”
“Give it up, Crawford,” I said. “One more attack and you’re finished.”
He grinned. The pain was etched into his face. “Really?”
With that, he pulled an arrow from a quiver on his back. His crossbow was on the ground, so I knew he wouldn’t be able to fire it at me. He was clutching at straws.
“You think you’ll reach the crossbow before I hit you?” I said.
He shook his head. “I don’t need the bow.”
He rushed at me. I barely had time to react before he reached me and plunged the arrow into my neck, finding a spot where my armor didn’t reach. I felt the arrow head dig deep into my flesh.
My health bar dropped further. I was down to my last dregs now. But that didn’t matter. He hadn’t finished me off, and all I needed to do now was to hit him one last time.
I tried to raise my sword, but I couldn’t move my arm. I grunted with effort, but it was as though my arm wasn’t my own. A numbness spread through me and worked down to my legs. I was frozen to the spot, paralyzed.
Crawford pulled another arrow from his quiver. “The tips are dipped in paralysis potion,” he said, holding the arrow up. “I bought them from a merchant. It’s something they taught me in boy scouts; always be prepared.”
I struggled to move my arm, but it wouldn’t budge. Panic filled me. Crawford rushed at me, arrow raised, with just one more strike needed to kill me.
And then he stopped. He opened his mouth, and a strange sound came out. It was a choking sound, full of pain. He stared at me, and his eyes widened. I watched in shock as he took another step, and then crashed face first to the mud.
Gabber stood behind him, looking proud in his armor. He held his hand axe in his palm, and the tip was coated in Crawford’s blood.
The hunter lay on the ground, motionless, and with relief I saw that his health bar was empty. His body began to shimmer. I couldn’t take my eyes off him as his outline began to fade, growing lighter and lighter. Finally, Crawford was gone.
He was finally dead. Sure, he’d respawn, but he’d be far away. Relief surged through me.
The paralysis left my legs so suddenly that I crashed down onto the ground, landing inches from where Crawford had died. I felt a hand grab me and pull me up. I got to my feet and saw Gabber stood next to me.
“He’s gone,” he said.
With Crawford sent to respawn, his neeves faded away, disappearing from the battlefield. This just left Crawford’s mercs. There were only a handful lef
t, now. But with their paymaster gone, they too lost a reason to fight. One by one they lowered their weapons and turned away. They left the village, heading in whatever direction their programming dictated.
I couldn’t believe it. The battle was over. The blood of Gabber’s goblins lined the ground. Loria, Gabber and I barely had half a health bar between us, but it was done.
We’d won.
Chapter Forty
After the battle, I used Spare the Dying to revive one of Gabber’s goblins. I just wished that I could have done more. It had a large cool down that stopped me using it too often, and that meant the others who had fallen wouldn’t return. It was sad walking through the village and seeing the aftermath of the battle.
