39

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Ethan stood his ground. The forest seemed to hold its breath. His eyes narrowed as he heard the approaching thump, thump, thump sounds. His hand tightened on his sword hilt.

This was it. The moment of truth.

The underbrush parted, revealing a monstrous figure that towered over Ethan.

Anticipation washed over him. Finally, a worthy opponent.

The Goblin Lord. The monster was such a mockery of both goblin and man. Standing nearly nine feet tall, its muscular frame rippled with mana-enhanced strength. Thick, mottled green skin stretched over bulging muscles, covered in patches of coarse black hair. The creature’s massive head had a crude crown fashioned from bones and bits of scavenged metal, perched atop a face that was a nightmare of deformed features.

By the gods, it’s even more hideous than I’d thought.

Its eyes were set deep in a skull-like visage. A wide mouth filled with yellowed, dagger-like teeth stretched from ear to ear. It gave the Goblin Lord a perpetual, horrifying grin. Saliva dripped from its maw, hissing as it hit the forest floor and burned anything that it touched.

Acidic. Ethan noted.

The Goblin Lord donned a rusted chainmail, dented plates, and strips of cured leather covered its torso and limbs. A cloak made from the stitched-together hides of various creatures hung from its broad shoulders. In one massive hand, it clutched a weapon that matched its terrifying appearance—an enormous maul crafted from a tree trunk, studded with spikes of bone and metal. The weapon alone looked heavy enough to crush a man with a single blow.

Ethan's fingers twitched, itching to test his blade against the creature’s armor.

As the Goblin Lord’s gaze fell upon Ethan, it let out a low and rumbling growl. It raised its maul, the weapon whistling through the air as it prepared to strike.

Ethan’s lips curled into a smirk, and he unsheathed his sword.

This, at least, might prove somewhat entertaining.

The Goblin Lord’s calves rippled, and then it exploded forward, kicking the ground. Its thunderous footsteps shaking the earth, and then it swung its maul in a wide arc, aiming to crush Ethan where he stood.

But Ethan was no longer there.

He sidestepped the attack, the maul passing harmlessly through the space he had occupied a heartbeat before.

“Too slow,” Ethan taunted, his voice carrying a hint of boredom.

It suddenly reared back its head and spat a glob of viscous, green fluid directly at Ethan’s face.

Ethan’s eyes widened in surprise, but he’d expected it.

He ducked, barely avoiding the projectile, which splattered against a tree behind him. The bark hissed and bubbled, smoke rising from where the acid made contact.

“Huh,” Ethan muttered, “so you’re not just all brawn after all.”

The Goblin Lord grinned, revealing its acid-coated teeth. It began to circle Ethan, occasionally letting loose small spurts of acid from its mouth. Ethan was forced to remain constantly on the move.

The forest floor began to steam and smoke wherever the acid droplets landed. The acrid smell of burning vegetation filled the air, making Ethan’s eyes water slightly.

Sensing an advantage, the goblin pressed forward. It swung its maul in wide arcs, forcing Ethan to dodge not just the weapon but also the spray of acid that followed in its wake. A few droplets caught Ethan’s sleeve, instantly eating through the fabric and searing his skin beneath.

Ethan hissed, quickly tearing away the affected portion of his shirt. The skin underneath was an angry red, blistering from even that brief contact.

“Okay,” he growled, “that’s annoying.”

The Goblin Lord’s confidence grew.

It began to incorporate its acid attacks more strategically, using them to herd Ethan into positions where he’d be vulnerable to its maul. Ethan found himself hard-pressed, focused on avoiding getting cornered.

At one point, the Goblin Lord managed to catch Ethan off-guard. As Ethan ducked under a maul swing, the creature suddenly belched forth a wide spray of acid. Ethan threw up a hasty barrier of solidified air, but it wasn’t quite fast enough. Some of the acid splashed over the top, raining down on Ethan’s shoulders and back.

Ethan let out a genuine cry of pain this time. The acid burned through his clothing and seared his skin, leaving angry red welts wherever it touched. He rolled away, using a burst of wind to blow off as much of the acid as possible, but the damage was done.

“Okay,” Ethan panted, real anger in his voice now, “playtime’s over.”

The Goblin Lord charged forward. It opened its maw wide. But Ethan was ready this time. As the Goblin Lord spewed forth its acid, Ethan thrust out both hands. A powerful gust of wind erupted from his palms, catching the stream of acid mid-air and blowing it back into the Goblin Lord’s face.

The creature screamed in agony as its own acid splashed across its eyes and mouth. It staggered backward, temporarily blinded and in excruciating pain.

Enraged, the Goblin Lord’s eyes twitched and its face contorted into a snarl as it roared, spittle flying from its maw. It launched into a series of wild swings, each powerful enough to fell a tree. But Ethan moved like water, flowing around each attack with fluid precision. His sword flashed out, scoring a deep cut along the creature’s arm.

The Goblin Lord bellowed in pain, dark blood oozing from the wound. It redoubled its efforts, pressing Ethan with a relentless assault. For a moment, it seemed as though the sheer ferocity of the attack might overwhelm him.

But Ethan’s expression remained calm, almost disinterested. As the Goblin Lord raised its maul for another crushing blow, Ethan’s eyes narrowed. He raised his free hand, fingers splayed.

A blast of concentrated air erupted from his palm, slamming into the Goblin Lord’s chest with the force of a battering ram. The creature staggered backward, its attack disrupted, giving Ethan the opening he sought.

Thanks, dumbass.

In a heartbeat, he delivered a dozen precise cuts, each finding a gap in the Goblin Lord’s hodgepodge armor. The monster howled, more in rage than pain, and swung its maul in a desperate counterattack.

Ethan leaped back, avoiding the clumsy strike. As he landed, he reached for the water pouch at his belt.

A stream of water shot from the pouch. The water coalesced into a whip-like tendril that lashed out, wrapping around the Goblin Lord’s weapon arm. With a sharp tug, Ethan used the water whip to throw the creature off balance.

The Goblin Lord stumbled, its massive bulk working against it. Ethan seized the opportunity, closing the distance in an instant.

His sword flashed once, twice, three times—precise strikes that severed tendons and arteries.

The Goblin Lord’s maul fell from nerveless fingers as it collapsed to one knee. It glared at Ethan with a mixture of hatred and disbelief, unable to comprehend how this human had bested it so easily.

Ethan met its gaze, disappointed. “Is this truly the best you can offer?” he asked.

The answer he received was rather simple: the Goblin Lord lunged, jaws snapping as it tried to sink its teeth into Ethan’s flesh. But Ethan was already moving, stepping to the side and bringing his sword around in a graceful arc.

Guillotine Strike, he almost murmured, then cringed internally.

The blade whistled through the air.

It met no resistance as it passed through the Goblin Lord’s thick neck, severing head from body in one clean stroke.

For a moment, the forest was utterly silent.

Then, the Goblin Lord’s corpse collapsed to the ground with a thunderous crash.

Its head rolled to a stop at Ethan’s feet, the look of rage and disbelief forever frozen on its hideous features.

Ethan stood over its dead body, his breathing steady and controlled. He hadn’t even broken a sweat during the encounter. With a flick, he cleaned his blade before sheathing it.

“Kinda pathetic,” he muttered.

He’d expected more given that drunk man hyping up this creature.

Ethan shook his head, then looked at the notifications he’d received during battle.

Your class, [Mage], has leveled up — Lvl 3 -> Lvl 4!

Your race, [Human], has leveled up — Lvl 5 -> Lvl 6!

Humming, he retrieved his horse, scratching her neck as he mounted up. “Good girl,” he said. The horse appeared a bit spooked. She’d been trained, obviously, but seeing a huge Goblin Lord should’ve had some effect on the poor thing.

Ethan urged his horse forward, the animal’s hooves crunching softly on the carpet of dead leaves that blanketed the forest floor. The Deadwoods lived up to its name. A forest filled with twisted and gnarled trees with bark as black as char and leaves the color of dried blood. Shadows seemed to writhe and dance at the edge of his vision, and the silence hanging over the forest was an anomaly only found in the Deadwoods and no other forest. That silent was broken only by the occasional rustle of wind through skeletal branches.

Throughout the journey, Ethan’s eyes took in the subtle signs of the forest’s unnatural state. Pools of stagnant water glowed with a sickly light. Fungi of impossible colors and shapes clung to rotting logs, pulsing gently as if breathing. Here and there, he spotted the bleached bones of unlucky travelers.

The day wore on, and Ethan noticed subtle changes in the landscape. The trees began to thin, and far, far in the distance, he could make out the faint outlines of buildings. However, he’d still need to go through the forest between this patch of land untouched by the trees and Thornhaven.

Hmm, let’s see—

A dry rattling sound startled him, followed by the clatter of bones against bone. Ethan’s horse reared, nearly throwing him from the saddle. He steadied the animal with a firm hand, his other already reaching for his sword.

From the shadows of the trees, they emerged—a horde of skeletal undead, their eye sockets glowing with unholy green fire. Rusted weapons and tattered scraps of armor hung from their fleshless frames. Their movements were unnatural and jerky as they closed in on Ethan from all sides.

For a moment, Ethan considered drawing his sword. But as the skeletons drew nearer, a cold smile played across his lips. Why bother with blade work when he could end this quickly?

Ethan raised both hands, fingers splayed wide. He took a deep breath, feeling the mana rocketing through his body from a place unknown as he prepared something devastating.

The air around him began to shimmer with heat—

—and a torrent of white-hot flames erupted from his palms, engulfing the skeletal horde.

The fire roared like a living creature hungry for destruction. Bones blackened and cracked in the intense heat. Rusted weapons clattered to the ground. The light in the creatures’ eye sockets flickered and died.

In seconds, it was over.

Where the skeletal army had stood, only ash and scorched earth remained.

This [Necromancer] really is weak. As fuck.

Ethan lowered his hands, the flames dying away.

Regardless, he decided to give the man the benefit of the doubt, and a frown creased his brow. The ease of the fight left him pondering. If these were merely the first line of defense, the situation in Thornhaven might be far worse than he’d anticipated. These skeletons had been cannon fodder, nothing more. At least, he thought so, so as to make sure he didn’t underestimate the [Necromancer].

Anyway, two ways from here. He could press on through what was clearly monster-controlled territory through the Deadwoods. Or he could seek an alternate route, potentially avoiding further conflict but risking significant delays.

He weighed the options carefully. Time was of the essence—but rushing headlong into danger without proper preparation was foolish, no matter how powerful he might be.

After a moment’s deliberation, Ethan made his decision.

He would continue on his current path but proceed with far more caution. His mana reserves were still high, and he was confident in his ability to handle most threats.

With a gentle nudge, he urged his horse forward once more. The animal moved hesitantly at first, still spooked, but soon settled into a steady trot. I really wonder why Miller gave me this young’in. He could’ve given me a horse more trained.

Ethan sighed as they continued through the thinning trees.

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