'First, I need to cut off the extra targets completely.'
Since this was his first time fighting multiple goblins alone, Bell knew it was important to understand their behavior in one-on-one combat. He didn't consider slashing a goblin's throat in a single strike to be a sign of his own strength. If the weapon was sharp enough, any monster would fall to a hit on a vital point. That wasn't his power—it was the weapon's.
He immediately charged at the scattered goblins.
The goblins, lurking in the shadows, noticed and instantly rushed at him, brandishing their short swords. Dungeon monsters at this level weren't intelligent, but coordinated group attacks didn't require thought—they were driven by instinct.
As he ran, Bell singled out the slowest of the goblins. He pulled two short swords from his four-dimensional space and hurled them with brute force—he wasn't skilled in throwing, so precision wasn't an option.
Fortunately, his target's lack of speed and poor agility made it an easy mark. It had no choice but to take the hit head-on.
Clang!
Shkk!
The goblin instinctively deflected the blade flying toward its head, but the second blade—slower but well-aimed—stabbed straight into its leg. The two impacts rang out in sequence, just like the order in which Bell had thrown them.
"Yaaagh!"
The goblin shrieked, blue-green blood flowing from its leg. It wasn't a fatal wound, so it didn't turn to black ash. Instead, it glared at Bell with bloodshot, rage-filled eyes.
'Got it.'
Bell stopped suddenly mid-sprint. He raised his right hand toward the four goblins still charging at him. In the next instant, a fruit tree from his four-dimensional space materialized in midair.
Gravity did its work. The massive tree—so large it would take three people to wrap their arms around it—plummeted toward the four charging goblins.
Sensing the danger, the goblins reacted instinctively, trying to dive out of the way. But the tree fell fast. Two of them, just a fraction too slow, were crushed underneath.
Bell felt the ground tremble beneath his feet. He didn't spare the fallen goblins a glance. He vaulted off the tree trunk, another dagger appearing in his hand, aiming straight for the goblin with the injured leg.
Using the momentum of his leap, Bell came down hard. The fall sped up his descent, boosting his force even further.
The wounded goblin, acting on instinct, tried to yank the dagger from its leg—but it froze when it saw its human prey suddenly rushing straight at it. It quickly raised its blade to counter.
But Bell was already ready. His eyes locked onto the goblin, he raised his weapon to parry, shifting his body left mid-charge to redirect the force.
Crack!
The dagger in his hand shattered from the sheer force of the goblin's strike. A jolt of power surged through his palm, shocking Bell. If he hadn't shifted his weight just in time, that strike might've broken his hand.
'Short, fast, good at hiding in shadows... and ridiculously strong. So this is what a goblin on the surface-level floors is like?'
If not for his enhanced physical stats, that blow would've crippled him. It hit him then: sure, a goblin could be killed with a sharp enough weapon to the neck—but that didn't mean goblins were weak.
They were fast. They were strong. Their only real weakness was low durability. And it was precisely that weakness that made them suitable targets for Level 1 Adventurers.
'Yeah, a sharp weapon is absolutely essential against monsters like these.'
At that moment, Bell fully understood why adventurers poured so much money into their gear. In the Dungeon, having the right weapon in hand could mean the difference between life and death.
Without hesitation, Bell drew the goblin's short sword from his four-dimensional space. Before the monster could recover its stance, he slashed its throat.
Shhk!
A spray of bluish-green blood arced into the air. Bell, unable to dodge in time, was splattered across the face. There was no burning sensation, no discomfort—seemed like goblin blood didn't carry any special properties.
'So this is more or less what goblins on the first floor are like.'
As he thought that, the goblin whose throat he'd slashed crumbled into black ash and was reabsorbed by the Dungeon. On the ground, a goblin dagger and a small magic stone remained.
Bell was a little surprised but didn't dwell on the drop rate. He scooped up the loot and turned around, raising his hand to retrieve the fruit tree into his four-dimensional space.
It was then he noticed something: anything stored inside would be marked, and those marked items could be recalled later. Whether there was a range limit to this, though, would require testing.
With the tree reclaimed, Bell immediately pulled two more goblin daggers from his four-dimensional space. He threw them at the back of the head of a goblin that was still struggling to rise.
At the same time, he spotted one goblin had retreated a bit, while another had fallen face-first to the ground.
'Perfect!'
A recovered short sword reappeared in Bell's hand as he sprinted forward. His pace accelerated—less than a second later, he reached the goblin who was still on the ground, just starting to rise and get its bearings.
Shhk!
Just as the goblin raised its head, Bell's blade cut clean across its neck, sending another spray of blood into the air. This time, he didn't pause—just swept a quick glance at the two goblins he'd struck in the back of the head and turned his sights on the only one still standing.
"YAAAH!"
The last goblin let out a furious roar, watching its companions fall. Gripping its short sword in both hands, it charged straight at Bell.
Bell narrowed his eyes, pushing forward with even more speed. His dagger was at the ready, and he subtly shifted his weight.
Right as the two were about to collide, Bell suddenly changed his stance—only to find the goblin doing the same. It transitioned mid-charge, shifting from a two-handed grip to a one-handed slash aimed directly at him.