Chapter 7: Fall of the Goblin Village I
It was that same night Prince decided to ambush the goblins. His wound was still healing, but it wasn't too bad.
It was quiet, and goblins were not nocturnal animals. Most were asleep except for hobgoblin guards and high-leveled goblin guards.
Prince himself crouched behind a house, peeking around the rotting wood. Sneaking around in a goblin village wasn't the hardest thing ever. They weren't particularly smart, really.
As killing low-leveled goblins would be useless now, Prince decided not to take the risk of one of them getting a chance to scream.
He would go for the hobgoblin guards.
A malicious smirk appeared on Prince's face as he slinked around the village, his steps making almost no sound with how fine-tuned his body was. He was rounding a house when the door opened.
Prince pressed himself against the wall, the door covering him as a hobgoblin appeared. The hobgoblin yawned, stretching, before realizing the door had not opened with a bang as usual.
Fuck, Prince thought. Maybe it would've gone unnoticed by a goblin, but a hobgoblin? not at all. The hobgoblin slowly walked around the door, closing it and revealing Prince.
The two just stared at each other.
Before the hobgoblin had a chance to say a word, or do anything whatsoever, Prince was already moving. His knuckles landed true, right against the hobgoblin's windpipe, and it shattered.
The hobgoblin wheezed, blood spilling from its throat. This wasn't a mere break or fracture, Prince had crushed the windpipe, breaking skin and dashing any hopes of screaming.
Prince immediately examined the wide-eyed hobgoblin as it fell to its knees.
Goblin - Level 7
Another punch quickly and efficiently finished it off. Finally, Prince overflowed with energy and got a delicious level up.
Level-up! You are now level 10.
Prince smiled at that notification and quickly distributed his points to strength, endurance, and dexterity, before continuing on his hunt.
To more hobgoblins... Then I find the Goblin King. Prince thought. Given how the whistling wolf was in the early 20s, then it would make sense for the Goblin King to be in the mid to late 10s. Prince was confident he could bridge the level gap.
He quickly dashed back into the shadows.
...
Level-up! You are now level 11.
Prince slid the corpse of the hobgoblin he'd just killed out of plain sight, instead stashing it in an alleyway between houses.
He'd asked it for directions, but the hobgoblin had just glared at him. Then it attempted to scream. It could only shriek for a moment before Prince had quickly silenced it. Thankfully, no other hobgoblins came to investigate.
Prince left the alleyway, crouching low to the ground. He felt like a thief in the night, sneaking around while the moon illuminated his form.
Prince headed deeper into the village, where the buildings became bigger, but not by much. Prince finally found what seemed to be a town hall in the very center of the village. It was by far one of the better buildings by goblin standards, though it looked like a regular wooden building to Prince.
Sneaking in through one of the windowscthey had no glass—he quickly observed his surroundings.
It wasn't too big. Prince realized, after a moment, that it wasn't a town hall. It was a home. A better built home, but quite untidy.
The wooden boards under his feet creaked, and miscellaneous items were strewn about everywhere. This seemed to be a leaving area, as at the far end of the room, a shabby wooden door was slightly open. The bedroom emitted... A faint glow? Prince was interested.
He took a step, and his foot hit something. Looking down, he picked up a lumpy bottle with green liquid shifting about inside of it. It was roughly the size of his palm.
Prince immediately scanned it.
Failed Bottle of Healing (F-Grade)
A potion meant to be one of restorative vitality. Unfortunately, the alchemist constructing this potion made it go horribly wrong, making the drink lose much of its efficacy. It can, however, heal minor wounds and ailments.
"Huh," Prince said out loud. His voice felt strange. He hadn't talked in a while, outside crude battle taunts. "A healing potion."
Prince pocketed the potion. If the description was anything to go by, then the alchemist had fucked up badly. Still, it was quite useful to him. There were times, after all, when he couldn't always access the Rejuvenating River.
Making sure not to step on any loose boards, Prince slowly peeked into the room.
The torn bed was left untouched. Instead, a small figure sat hunched over a table, giggling. Green light from the source of whatever it was doing illuminated the surroundings. Prince scanned the goblin and immediately eliminated it as the Goblin King.
Goblin Shaman - Level 15
Goblin Shamans are a physically weaker variant of goblins. As a result, however, their much more intelligent and their bodies are naturally more in tune with Essence than regular goblins are. This allows them to use basic spells and become highly revered in goblin society. This specific subject specializes in alchemy.
Prince quickly read the description, raising an eyebrow. So a mage, then? This goblin was not the Goblin King, however. Prince could tell, mainly because it did not have the 'Dungeon Boss' next to its level.
The goblin shaman seemed to be concocting something. Prince grinned to himself—he could capture this goblin, get the answer for where the Goblin King resided, take a few potions, and then kill the shaman.
But first... Prince pushed open the door now, and it made an audible creak. The goblin shaman paused and swiveled its head to look at Prince, who grinned back at it.
"Where's your king?"
The shaman's eyes narrowed. Finally, it stood, and Prince noticed that it was dressed in more clothes than regular goblins. Behind it, he thought he got a glimpse of a bowl. The shaman glared at him for a moment. "Human," It said, seemingly not driven by bloodlust like its brethren.
"Yeah, I'm a human," Prince said, walking toward the shaman. "And I wish to kill your king. Where is he?"
Prince wasn't taking any chances here. If he captured the goblin shaman, it might feel threatened and cry out. If he found it in its natural environment, it might be confident enough to let some details slip out.
The shaman cackled. "The king?" It asked heartily. "He is not with the weaklings. But you will not live to see him." The shaman raised a finger.
Prince felt energy gathering at the tip of the shamans finger. It was faint, and Prince felt as if something was locking away the truth of the energy that permeated the shaman's finger.
Then, from the tip of the shaman's finger, spawned a small marble of flame.
Prince raised his fists.
"Shit."
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