Many main characters — whether transmigrators, reincarnators, or the occasional chosen ones of the heavens always seemed to say their first monster kill left them nauseous.
He had seen that in so many novels.
They spoke of trembling hands, of bile rising in their throats, and so many things.
For Lucius, it only made him feel annoyed.
'I could be spending today doing literally anything else,' he thought flatly, narrowing his eyes at the horde of goblins swarming toward them.
His sharp glare cut across their malformed faces, snaggle-toothed grins, and crude weapons.
'But no! Instead of a decent lunch and maybe a nap, I'm stuck here with three idiots and a bunch of goblins!'
A muscle twitched at the corner of his jaw.
The goblins snarled, their guttural laughter carrying across.
Lucius's patience snapped.
He burst forward, space compressing beneath his step.
The ground buckled, and with a dull boom a crater marked where his foot had been.
