The street opened into a square with five approaches, and before the party could cross its center, a ceremonial guard entered from each, their white plates carrying heavier red markings than those of the fighters who had tested the courthouse. One held a segmented spear. Another carried a sword split into parallel blades, and the guard opposite Roy planted a staff against the stone while the remaining two closed the outer angles.
With JFK on her right, Eryndra moved to meet them while Truman took the open side, leaving FDR and the other defenders around the group on Zehrina's floor.
"Five seems manageable," Truman said.
Before Truman had finished raising his arm, the nearest guard crossed the gap and scored a hooked blade across his chest. He caught its next pass on his forearm, giving the damaged plating a brief inspection while the fighter pulled away.
"I withdraw that assessment until we learn what they can do."
With the swordsman coming in below the spear aimed at her throat, Eryndra caught the spearhead between both hands, only for its shaft to separate into linked sections that wrapped around her forearms. As the spearman pulled them tight, the swordsman brought both blades upward beneath her ribs.
Dropping under the cuts, Eryndra turned against the chain and dragged its links across the swordsman's path. It withdrew before the blades could catch on its partner's weapon. The spearman released the tension at once, recalled the separated sections, and recovered beyond her reach while the swordsman crossed behind it to attack JFK.
The blades caught on opposite sides of JFK's contract barrier, their red markings passing along the edges as the guard turned both wrists and forced the joined surfaces apart until a line tore through the center.
"That was exceptionally rude." JFK took hold of one blade before it reached his chassis. "Executive Privilege."
As script spread from his fingers into the weapon, the staff struck stone across the square and sent red light through the guards' armor. The blade pulled against JFK's claim, joined its other half, and tore itself from his grip to return to the swordsman.
"A living blade," he said. "How vile."
Truman answered the hooked weapon's next pass with a Little Girl at close range, its yellow blast throwing the guard backward, scorching its armor and leaving one arm loose at its side. The fifth fighter caught it before it fell. When Truman advanced to finish the exchange, the staff carrier turned toward him and restored the red markings across the injured guard's plates.
Eryndra drove the spearman back, only for the swordsman to cut across the direction she needed to pursue. JFK bound the hooked fighter's legs, and the staff broke the agreement before he could act on it. A series of Little Girls filled one side of the square with smoke, but the guards joined the markings on their armor into a screen and came through together.
"They are sharing defenses," FDR said from beside Roy. "The staff renews what the others lose. Whenever one is exposed, another leaves its own attack to protect it."
"Then separate them," Roy said.
During the spear's next pass, Eryndra caught its divided shaft against her shoulder and let the links wind around her. The spearman pulled. She planted her feet, took hold of the chain where it crossed her arms, and swung the connected guard off the ground.
The staff carrier stepped forward to answer, but JFK had three contracts waiting. One sealed the staff's magic. The next prohibited contact with the airborne fighter, and the third bound both agreements to the armor around the caster's hands. Its first attempt to break one drove the other two tighter.
"A proper contract anticipates a hostile client," JFK said.
Truman detonated another Little Girl beneath the guard Eryndra had thrown, carrying it through the front of a building on the far side of the square and dropping several floors across the opening. As the swordsman turned toward the falling stone, JFK caught its weapon again. Executive Privilege passed through it, and this time the red markings along the blades failed to reclaim them.
One blade went through the swordsman's chest while the other crossed the gap to the staff carrier and entered its throat beneath the helmet. The shared screen broke with them, leaving the remaining fighters to defend themselves.
Caught between the hooked blade coming from her left and the fifth guard closing behind her, Eryndra jumped and carried herself over the first strike. She landed at the hooked fighter's back and drove it forward with a punch that folded its plates inward. Red light caught part of the force, but Truman's Fat Lady reached it before the damaged ward could recover, consuming the guard and blowing open the building beyond it.
The falling wall exposed an enormous mural of Azzemude extending his woven hands above rows of kneeling figures. Beneath it stood stone likenesses holding bowls, scrolls, and weapons. The spearman pulled itself from the debris under them, armor broken along one side. Eryndra crossed the square before it could recover and drove it through the painted chest of its ruler into the columns behind.
As the roof dropped around them, Eryndra broke through the falling stone alone while JFK bound the fifth guard beneath overlapping contracts. Truman approached closely enough to put one hand against its chest. "Little Girl." The detonation opened a black cavity through the armor, its force held against the fighter until the body collapsed.
Goblins had gathered behind benches and low interior walls beyond the damaged statues, some pink, others tan-yellow beneath their clothing. Several held books or carved tablets against themselves. As the party entered through the ruined front, they crouched farther into the spaces between the benches.
"Pokk goblins and Kokk goblins," Lynder said. "Both classifications contain strains capable of ruining a city from within."
Roy tried to keep his attention on the room. By the time Lynder turned toward him, the effort had become harder than the second name deserved, and a laugh escaped before he could cover it with a cough.
"Grow up," Lynder told him. "You should be relieved that the third associated classification appears absent."
"I am extremely mature. I don't know what you're talking about."
With the nearest goblins lowering their faces as Eryndra passed, Roy followed the broad aisle between the teaching benches toward the rear, keeping the group together on Zehrina's moving floor while the Presidroids watched the occupants. Several smaller rooms opened off the aisle, and an upper gallery remained intact along one wall.
"Keep going," he said. "Leave them alone."
The goblins stayed where they were for the first few rows, but once the party passed a statue large enough to block the last observer's view, feet scraped across the stone behind them. Zehrina turned before Roy could locate the sound. A band of Navi'N crossed the charging bodies and returned to her cloak while their severed limbs struck the floor.
"They waited," Andri said.
The pink goblin crouching near the next doorway held a tablet in both hands, its shaking knocking the carved edge repeatedly against the stone. Roy backed toward the opening while keeping it in view.
"Move in groups. Somebody watches each room until everyone is clear."
FDR stayed at the doorway while the others passed, and when he moved behind the next statue, the goblins inside rushed the opening and met his barrier. Another group came from beneath the teaching benches after Truman turned toward movement in the gallery. The party stopped while both attacks were put down, then advanced far enough to find more occupants crouching beyond the next line of sight.
"We cannot spend the afternoon watching every goblin in this building," FDR said.
Truman brought down the gallery after its occupants tried to reach the group from above. Along the aisle, Eryndra broke through walls beside closed doors, opening the rooms before anyone crossed their thresholds. Zehrina swept the charging figures out of each gap while the Presidroids covered those working past the benches. Statues collapsed among the bodies until much of the church lay open beneath its remaining roof.
Of the two enormous doors still standing in an undamaged frame at the rear, the right one opened slightly to reveal several faces crowded into the gap. As Lynder approached, the faces withdrew and the door closed again.
"We are leaving no sealed chamber at our backs."
With JFK following him across the rubble, Lynder took both doors and pulled them wide, only to drop onto his backside in the entrance. He scrambled back until his shoulders struck JFK's legs, still trying to move away from whatever he had seen.
"S-S-Sokk."
Dozens of goblins scarcely two feet tall stood beyond the doorway, wet black skin shining over their narrow bodies while a larger pink figure held both arms across the space in front of them. Several crowded beneath her elbows while others pressed against the wall.
Black paint ran from a bucket lying on its side near their feet, spreading across the floor to join the tracks left by the smallest figures. Lynder followed the trail into the room, where dark handprints marked the teacher's clothing.
"Paint." He stood with a hand against the doorframe. "For a moment, I believed these were genuine Sokk goblins."
When Lynder turned back toward the occupants with False Void gathering around his fingers, Roy reached him and caught his wrist before the spell could leave it.
"They're hiding behind her."
"They painted themselves to resemble Sokk goblins. They prepared it, concealed it, and waited for someone who would recognize the threat." Lynder kept his hand aimed past the doorway. "They understand perfectly well what they are doing."
The larger goblin pressed her arms back against the smaller ones. "Me teacher. Teacher keep student safe. Please leave. No harm student."
"See?" Roy held Lynder's wrist until the False Void receded. "They're staying in the room. We're leaving them alone."
"Were you less powerful, I would physically scold you." Lynder pulled his hand free. "This is a lesson you will learn in blood."
"I heard the warning. I'm making the decision anyway."
As Roy took the doors and began drawing them together, the teacher continued shielding her students through the narrowing gap. A small painted face looked up from beneath her arm as he brought the second door closer.
"Thank you."
Roy had left only a few inches between the doors when he turned toward Lynder and a blast caught him across the front. It carried him backward onto the Navi'N and covered him in blood before he heard the collapse of False Void. He rolled onto one shoulder, got a hand beneath himself, and tried to clear enough of his face to find the elf.
"I told you to leave them alone!"
FDR caught his shoulder as he stood. "Captain, they attacked when you turned. Every occupant rushed the doorway. Lynder stopped them before they reached you."
The doors stood open again on what remained of the teacher, her body at the front of the painted figures gathered along the path they had tried to take. Roy looked from them to Lynder, who stayed beside the frame with his hands lowered.
"I told you," the elf said. "I will tell you again, and I will tell you a hundred more times. Monsters are not to be trusted, especially goblins."
"They... they were kids."
"A small-bodied Pokk variant. They are born at roughly six inches and may live for centuries while reaching only two or three feet. Their minds develop poorly, which is why they were being taught." Lynder indicated the room. "Those were adults."
Even as he tried to wipe his face with a sleeve already soaked through, the voice at the door still sounded relieved in Roy's head. The teacher had been holding her students back while he watched, and every one of them had moved as soon as he trusted her enough to turn around. He could see how closely they had crowded behind the gap.
"Unforgivables, huh?" he said, pushing blood away from his eye again.
"Roy," Lynder said, his voice dropping into a grave seriousness, "we can manage Pokk and Kokk Goblins, but if Sokk oblins are lurking in this dungeon, your mercy will be the least of our worries before we're all killed."
Orden approached with both hands raised and his fingers wiggling. "Can I do the thing? Can I do the thing?!"
With blood seeping inside his collar and down his back, Roy tried to pull the wet cloth away from his skin before giving up and turning toward the boy.
"Fine, just this once."
At the first movement of Orden's fingers, every bit of dirt on Roy began traveling, blood drawing out of his hair as grit lifted from under his nails. Sweat passed through his clothing, and the fine stone powder against his scalp moved all at once. The sensation followed the seams of his coat and every place the fabric touched him until he wanted to strip it off, but by then the filth had gathered above them in a compact ball. Orden closed both hands and crushed it out of existence.
Roy ran his palms over his sleeves, trying to make ordinary contact with the cloth feel ordinary again. "That is the most uncomfortable feeling ever. The ban is reinstated. You are never doing that again."
"I know you don't mean that." Orden went after him as Roy returned to the others, his coat brushing through the remaining dust.
Takara waited until they had moved past the doorway before approaching Lynder. "Are Sokk goblins the ones from Master Evarran's book?"
"That old fool's self-congratulatory memoir?" Lynder stepped over the broken edge of a tablet and continued toward the opening in the church wall. "Yes, he wrote about Sokk goblins. Evarran never encountered one. Had he done so, there would have been no book."