Chapter 28

The next few days of Luke’s life were miserable. He just couldn’t relax anywhere, not even safely hidden away in his workshop. He hadn’t realized how much his various projects had been keeping him sane until he lost them all. He’d coasted on the initial frenzy of revenge for a day or two, but now it was just stressful to go out.

He wanted the freedom to come and go as he pleased without being hunted, but unless he got strong enough that he felt confident in attacking dozens of goblins at once, he didn’t see that happening. The only other options were to leave the valley, which he would gladly do if he could, or to head into the caves for another round of goblin hunting.

Still, for all of that, Luke wasn’t just lying there feeling sorry for himself. It sucked being actively hunted, but he needed food and water, needed XP to keep leveling up, and perhaps most of all, he needed sunlight and fresh air. Being able to see in the dark was cool, but being able to see things that weren’t stone walls was necessary for his mental wellbeing.

So even though he knew it was dangerous, and even though he needed to be constantly on guard, Luke spent a great deal of his time out in the valley. It wasn’t fun or relaxing, but it was better than sitting in a stone box. The goblins found him several times, which resulted in deaths on their side and occasional injuries on his.

He tried to keep up his elemental grinding but the arrival of the jumbo elemental was so conspicuous that the goblins took notice and started watching the pass. It didn’t matter what time of day or night he showed up; there were always a few goblins looking out for him, and they’d quickly summon more before attacking him.

His sole consolation was that the goblins hadn’t come up with any more of those mastiffs. Without the tracking dogs to point the way, he was at least able to enjoy a few hours of relative peace here and there. Red even showed up to keep him company, albeit usually only when he was cooking. The damn freeloader never did anything productive, but Luke figured he still owed the bird for saving him from that cat when he’d first arrived on Aros.

With the loss of his woodworking tools, Luke was back to using a folding knife and his multitool. He could still make things, but it really wasn’t the same. He also had to go out of his way to be gentle with the tools with his strength stat so high. It felt like he was handling glass instead of steel sometimes, and the fact that the edges had all dulled from overuse didn’t help matters.

Still, in the interest of his sanity, he made little art pieces to keep his mind and hands occupied: a small, eight-inch tall statue of Red to replace the big one he’d been working on was his first project. It wasn’t nearly as detailed as his original project, but it made him happy to see Red’s form slowly emerge from the wood with each cut.

It was a short-lived happiness, often interrupted by goblin search parties. They were persistent, well-armed, and he never saw a group smaller than fifteen. The first time he heard them coming, he snuck away, but [Stealth]wasn’t strong enough to fully hide him and they caught quickly. Luke fought then, using the trees as cover to protect him from crossbows and slaying goblins left and right. Eventually they broke and ran.

The XP boost was nice, but not without cost. He couldn’t avoid every attack, and each hit slowed him down, making it harder to dodge the next. The truth was if the goblins had rushed him en masse, they would have killed him quickly and easily. Sooner or later, they were going to realize that.

“So that’s another day ruined,” he muttered darkly. “And more new holes in my clothes.”

Tired and aching, Luke walked back to his cave. It was some small consolation that he’d be back in good health in a matter of hours instead of weeks, but he was getting real tired of hurting. This whole thing with the goblins had to end.

* * *

“Today, it ends,” Gulgok announced.

He stood in front of his elites, the six most powerful goblins in the valley. All of them were at least level 15. Next to them were a trio of Bluerock goblins who’d been conscripted into service. Each one held a rawhide leash attached to a mastiff, and the dogs themselves had been muzzled to stop their incessant braying.

One of the search parties had made contact with the Day Hunter, and it had slaughtered them, though not without cost. Gulgok stood in the aftermath of the battle, and the dogs had the scent of the monster.

They followed the dogs for half an hour. The handlers grew more and more apprehensive as the Day Hunter failed to materialize in front of them, often glancing back at Gulgok. He was more amused than anything by the amount of fear on display, mostly because they were right to cower. If the dogs failed to flush out the Day Hunter, he would kill the handlers and replace them. The lives of his own tribe meant little to him; the lives of goblins from Bluerock meant even less.

In truth, he would likely kill them at the end either way. That was the fate that awaited almost all of the Bluerock goblins, and whatever remained of the Grimshard. Some would have some outstanding skills that he could find a use for, but most would be slaughtered. The new goblins that came from their spawning pit would be part of the Bloodbite tribe, and would never know loyalties to anything else.

But first, the Day Hunter. He leveled a glare at the three Bluerock handlers and demanded, “How much longer?”

“We are getting closer, b-boss,” one of them said with a stutter. Technically speaking, he wasn’t their boss, yet, but they knew the end was coming. “We could go faster without the muzzles.”

“Idiot. Have you learned nothing from the deaths of your kin? The Day Hunter made a point to seek out these howling beasts and slaughter them. It knows what they are capable of. If it knows we are coming, it will run.”

“Or it might come straight to us,” Bulgrit said.

Gulgok lashed out, and his Hand took the blow without flinching. “I did not ask for an opinion from you.”

One of the scouts they’d deployed around the main hunting formation scurried through the underbrush and approached. It bowed and scraped along the way, and hissed out, “Boss! We’ve found it. The Day Hunter is by the stream, only a few minutes north of here. If we hurry, we can catch it before it leaves.”

“We will not rush,” Gulgok said. “Circle around. Watch its movements. Do not let it escape.”

He wasn’t afraid of the Day Hunter, certainly not. But he respected it. It had killed many goblins and grown in level since he’d first laid eyes on it. And now, he would grow from killing it. He followed behind the dogs, flanked by Bloodbite elites, and eagerly gripped the hilt of his sword.

The trees gave way to a small streamside clearing and there, sitting next to it with that strange metal club, was the Day Hunter. It didn’t look surprised to see them. “Tired of running?” Gulgok said. “Good.”

* * *

Luke’s perception was too high for the goblins to sneak up on him. It was also too high for him not to notice the damn dogs they had. Admittedly, they’d gotten a lot closer simply by muzzling the beasts so they wouldn’t bark or howl, but he knew they were there. He would have to kill the dogs at least before he escaped, or they’d just keep following him.

The goblins had gotten smarter though, and the dogs were kept on short leashes with a party of high-level goblin warriors. There was even one there that was higher than him, perhaps two. The second one was either the same level as Luke or at most one ahead.

While he waited for the hunters to arrive with their dogs, he kept himself busy ambushing the scouts that were trying to circle around. For once, his higher XP pool wasn’t a hindrance. They already knew he was there, and [Stealth] did enough at least to keep them from realizing that he was stalking them in turn. One by one, he’d killed them silently over the last few minutes.

Despite all the killing, he was still only half way to the next level, but if he was right about how strong the goblins coming for him were, they might just be able to push him over. All he had to do was survive, and make sure they didn’t. They were just goblins; it’d be easy.

Sure it would.

They took their time, but eventually they showed up. Luke had specifically chosen this clearing for two reasons. First, it hugged the river bank, making it long and narrow. It was as close to a choke point as he was going to get without actually going underground, and doing that would favor the goblins far more than him.

Second, if worse came to worst, he fully planned on jumping into the stream and swimming across it. His stamina was high enough that he could hold his breath for close to an hour now, and being underwater would protect him from crossbow bolts. At least, he hoped it would.

He stood up and turned to face the goblins. His mace was held in both hands in front of him; his feet were set evenly. He knew he was not a grand sight, with his shirt in tatters, his jacket not far behind, his jeans stained with blood and dirt and who knew what else. One of his shoes sported a hole, and his face was covered in scruff.

He was still almost two feet taller than the average goblin and he’d yet to meet one that could match his strength. Almost all of his AP had been spent on combat related skills and stat increases. While he wasn’t in love with the idea of fighting ten more goblins, none of these had crossbows and they wouldn’t be able to come at him more than two at a time.

They parted ways and the big one came through, the one who was a higher level than him. It said… something… Luke wasn’t sure what. He couldn’t make heads or tails of those sounds that came out of their mouths. They sounded like a garbage disposal barfing up helium. He didn’t bother to respond either. They wouldn’t understand him, and besides, everyone there knew what they were there to do.

He raised his mace up in front of him and let out a breath. Despite the adrenaline coursing through him, despite the sound of his heart pounding in his ears, his hands remained steady. This was just another fight, one he was determined to win.

The goblin brought its sword around from where it stuck up over its shoulder. The damn blade was taller than its wielder, and by almost a foot too. It was strange, that sword. If Luke didn’t know any better, he’d think it was steel, but the only steel weapons he’d seen so far were the ones hidden away in his brother’s workshop.

Then again, it did look like it was a hundred years old. It was etched with time, and its edge had several burrs on it. The hilt had no leather grip, just a core of metal far too long for a goblin’s hands. Despite the size and weight, the goblin swung it easily in one hand. With a cruel laugh, it waved the rest of its group back and took a step forward.

That step turned into a run, and the two of them lunged at each other.