Ch 9
Matt moved just as the creature stalking him leaped, barely shifting out of the way in time to escape a vicious blow from a claw or horn aimed at his throat. The elusive attacker vanished almost immediately, its presence betrayed only by a scattering of leaves that stirred in its wake. Forced to push his senses to their very limits, Matt strained to locate it, a desperate effort that allowed him to dodge another potentially fatal strike. This time, he glimpsed that the entity was not much larger than the rats he had encountered before as it rocketed past him.
Despite his rapid reactions, his mind quickly adapted to the escalating danger. With barely a moment to spare, he blocked the subsequent attack by bringing one of his rock-cutting tools to the point where it had struck twice earlier. This maneuver revealed the foe to be a brown rabbit, roughly the size of his head, surprisingly outfitted with a roughly six-inch horn jutting defiantly from its center. Sadly, that was all Matt had time to process before the rabbit twisted, kicked off from the rock, and vanished into the shadows. Yet, the encounter made it unmistakably clear: the enemy’s strength lay in its speed. He felt that a single well-timed counterattack was the only means to end the fight quickly.
Unfortunately for Matt, landing a successful strike proved far more challenging than evading its deadly blows. His split-second reactions permitted him to block or dodge by mere fractions of a second, but he was simply too slow to decisively attack. To compound his dire situation, fatigue was rapidly overtaking him and the lack of water since his arrival was beginning to exact its toll. This only reinforced the fact that finding water was now a priority—even though, once found, it would still need to be purified to avoid the risk of contaminants. A fact that couldn’t help but make Matt wish that the path of the pot had been an option offered as he avoided another attack.
Then, when all hope seemed lost, his right-hand cutting tool slipped away as his body unexpectedly released its grip. Yet he did not panic. Instead, he trusted his instinctive reaction, raising his right arm and thrusting forward with his hand. He felt a sharp impact on his palm and a piercing pain between his middle and ring fingers, as if fire had been ignited in his grip. In that split second, the rabbit was already caught in his grasp. With a swift, determined swing of his remaining cutting tool, Matt ended the threat, the foe succumbing instantly under his decisive blow.
Monstered killed: Level 5 horned rabbit.
Base experience multiplied by five.
Awarding 150 experience.
Current experience to next level 366/1000.
Kill more things and gain more power if you wish to pursue a path of bloodshed.
Matt hardly minded that the mysterious force guiding his path had once again erupted into bloodshed; instead, he let out a deep sigh of relief. Yet, a nagging worry lingered—could he possibly lure such a monstrous creature back to his group? Even if he managed to do so, he doubted that any of them could withstand the first savage strike. In a moment of bitter irony, he mentally cursed the absurdity that even seemingly cute bunnies had turned homicidal in this brutal new reality.
Still, amidst the chaos, there was one undeniable benefit. With his trusty cutting tool, he struck precisely where the sharply pointed horn met the rabbit’s skull. After about thirty seconds of relentless hacking, the rabbit’s skull was crushed, and the horn lay in Matt’s hand. He quickly tested its sharp edge as a makeshift stabbing dagger. Measuring just over six inches in length, Matt knew it needed a proper handle to be wielded effectively without sacrificing its full length. He envisioned attaching a sturdy shaft to transform it into a formidable spear—or perhaps even carving it into a knife if, as he suspected, the horn proved harder than wood.
Satisfied with his makeshift weapon, Matt moved on after checking that his only injury was a shallow cut between his fingers, incurred during the struggle with the rabbit. Although the wound wasn’t deep, it still troubled him, as he lacked the knowledge of the local medicinal plants necessary to treat it safely. Yet, he also recognized that understanding the flora might solve another pressing problem: water, since he was convinced that at least one plant would naturally provide a reliable source of hydration.
After another ten minutes of trudging through the dense trees, Matt finally came to a halt. This time, he clearly saw what he was facing: four goblins of varying sizes, cautiously moving through the forest. Trusting his instincts, he refrained from launching an immediate attack. Instead, he quietly climbed a nearby tree and listened to their wary chatter from his elevated perch. After roughly five minutes of eavesdropping, one goblin began to grumble, “Why we have to track down killers?”
“What we do when killers come for village,” retorted the largest goblin. “Besides, you have me—I kill any human that comes easily.”
Another goblin muttered, “What good is any of it? We’re trapped here forever. How much long before village destroyed by newcomers?”
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“We’re strong, stronger than newcomers,” hissed the smallest goblin. “You not old enough to remember, but village always kills men, takes women, and grows. Soon, we grow big enough to rule whole woods and never worry about the outcasts who are tossed aside here.”
“I know how we work, but why there not more of us?” replied a third goblin. “Killers kill four—why—”
“They kill four weak goblins like you, not strong ones like me,” snapped the largest goblin. “Also, clear that it was a struggle from the scene—”
“Quiet,” interrupted the smallest goblin, pointing toward the spot where Matt had fought the rabbit. “Look—fresh tracks. We’re close.”
That was Matt’s cue to act. He leaped down from the tree and swiftly advanced toward the largest goblin, driving the rabbit’s horn into its back all the way to its base. Without wasting a moment, he abandoned the horn, rolled aside to avoid any counterattack, and sprinted toward the six waiting women. A wry smile spread across his face as he acknowledged the reassuring notification he had just received.
Monstered killed: Level 4 hobgoblin.
Base experience multiplied by four.
Awarding 120 experience.
Current experience to next level 486/1000.
Kill more things with a single blow if you wish to pursue a path of assassination.
Matt’s smile vanished as he turned and saw that, instead of following him, the three goblins had reversed their course, sprinting the way they had come. His heart sank as he realized he’d made a grave error; if he didn’t catch them, the situation would spiral further out of control. Without a second thought, he spun around and plunged into a chase.
In just two minutes, Matt managed to catch and dispatch two of the goblins, but the smallest of the group was nowhere to be found. A chilling dread welled up inside him as he suspected that this little creature might have been the leader.
Desperately, he began scanning the area for any clues that could lead him to the elusive goblin, but no trace could be found, no matter how intensely he searched. Eventually, he steadied his racing heart with a deep, calming breath. Reflecting on the 180 experience he had gained from the encounter, he returned to the fallen bodies and retrieved the horn. Examining their belongings, he noted that aside from the stone axes attached to the hobgoblin’s waist, the only items of value were the worn leather clothing and three waterskins, each containing nearly a liter of a foul-smelling liquid.
Matt was almost certain that the liquid held a trace of alcohol, though he had no intention of drinking it. Instead, he poured it out one container at a time, scrunching his nose as the repugnant odor assaulted his senses. A nagging worry crept in that even boiling the substance might not neutralize its stench. However, he could not afford such delays as he resumed his search for any sign of the smallest goblin. Alas, after about 15 minutes of fruitless hunting, he found himself once more surrounded by a horde of scurrying rats.
25 minutes of relentless running later, Matt burst into a clearing where the six women were busy weaving cordage. Their task came to an abrupt halt upon seeing him. In an instant, they rallied together and charged at the elusive rats, echoing the chaotic scene he had just escaped. Gaining another 57 experience points from that fight, Matt now stood before the women, a frown etched on his face as he attempted to find the right words—until Eleanor finally spoke.
“You look like you’ve been attacked by forces other than a rat swarm while you were away,” she commented, her tone a mix of concern and curiosity.
“Right,” Matt gasped, still catching his breath. “There was this bizarre unicorn bunny that kept trying to pierce my neck with its horn, and then four goblins appeared. They’re the real problem—they were clearly searching for us.”
“How do you know that?” Eleanor asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.
“They were talking as they neared, and from what I gathered, they were looking for us. They traced my fight with that odd rabbit back to here. I managed to kill one and attempted to lure the others into pursuit, but they scattered quickly, and I only caught and killed two of them.”
“Does that mean we’re in danger?” Emily inquired, worry tinted in her voice.
“We’re always in danger,” overweight staff wielder remarked sharply, crossing her arms and giving Matt a disapproving look. “Now, there's no choice but to move on.”
“Or we could stand and fight right here,” countered Eleanor, her spirit rising. “We’re stronger—”
“No,” Matt interjected firmly. “I haven’t shared everything I learned from them…”
As Matt disclosed the remaining crucial details to the women, he could sense their growing dread. The revelation that they weren’t the first group dropped into these ominous woods struck them hard; it felt as if the initial voice had deceived them, sparking doubts about their supposed advantage in numbers. Instead of any hopeful promise, the world now appeared to be rigged against them—a cruel, twisted game designed solely for the struggle of an unseen spectator before their inevitable demise.
Matt watched in dismay as several of the women began to unravel, their voices rising in anxious debate over the worsening state of affairs. The scarcity of water was mentioned time and again, and amid their despair, they even contemplated suicide as a means to avoid capture. Sensing that the situation was about to spiral dangerously out of control, Matt abruptly stepped in and bellowed, “All of you shut up!”
The six women turned to face him, their expressions a turbulent mix of hope and seething anger, but silence eventually settled over the group as he continued.
“If all you’re going to do is give up, then I might as well walk away. But I know you all want a chance at getting some pay back for all the suffering the goblins have inflicted on others. I’d bet on it—even if you are captured. When the timer on returning to our world runs out, you’ll be transported out of here.”
“By that time, the damage will be irreparable!” shouted the bow wielder. “Who’s to say how many goblin children we’ll have birthed by then? Do you really think any of us would want to live after that horror?”
“There is life after rape,” countered the red-haired sword wielder, her voice steady despite the pain. “The agony may never vanish completely, but it will subside. It is only when we surrender to despair and allow ourselves to die that we truly lose hope.”
A heavy, uneasy silence fell over the group as they struggled to find a response—until Eleanor finally stepped forward, taking charge of the tense situation.
“We’ve already taken out seven goblins,” she declared. “I say we set our sights on a hundred each and see which side wavers first. The goblins are on their way, so our real dilemma is whether we confront them here or make a strategic retreat.”
“We need to move,” Matt interjected firmly. “We must find water and establish a proper base—my plans for digging a well can’t proceed otherwise. Let’s start heading in the opposite direction from where they emerged. Maybe if they think we’re fleeing in fear, they'll underestimate us.”
