Draven's eyes fluttered open inside a dimly lit place that seemed like the interior of a cave, with a high, rough ceiling. He could hear noises around him, including the pitiful cries and moans of people as well as the familiar, beast-like laughter he had heard before he blacked out.
His brain swiftly registered his situation, and his eyes widened. He quickly lifted his torso from the ground, his eyes darting in the direction of the noises as he began observing his surroundings.
He realized his initial suspicions were correct: he was indeed within the confines of a spacious cave, surrounded by many people—some unconscious, some barely conscious and pleading for their freedom, and others being tormented by green-skinned creatures.
A large campfire was burning in the middle of the cave, and by its flickering flames, he observed the torment of the helpless people at the hands of the strange, green-pigmented creatures he immediately recognized as goblins from numerous games he had played.
He spotted one of the goblins continuously bashing the head of a helpless man while the man pleaded and cried for mercy.
Beside him, another sliced a live human, limb by limb, disregarding his pleas.
Not too far from the first two, a semi-conscious lady was being assaulted by two goblins; she moaned painfully and pleaded for help with the last bit of strength she could muster, but it was futile.
After Draven was done observing the situation around him, a shiver ran down his spine. How the heck did he arrive in such a place? he wondered.
At the same time, he knew he had to do something, or else he might be the next victim, getting chopped limb from limb or having his skull bashed into a meat paste.
Even if he were suicidal, dying in the hands of goblins in such a shameful manner was never a way he predicted he would lose his life.
"System? How many minutes are remaining for my survival mission?" Draven whispered as lowly as he could.
[ 27 mins, 35 sec ]
Twenty-seven minutes was a good amount of time. If he hid himself perfectly among the abducted, he wouldn't be victimized quickly. Nonetheless, fate had an entirely different scenario planned for him.
Just as he made up his mind, one of the goblins assaulting the defenseless young lady suddenly tilted its head in Draven's direction.
The eyes of man and predator met. One had a pretense of a calm expression, while the other wore a cold grin, matching its role as the predator.
It dropped the legs of the young lady it was currently assaulting, grabbed a makeshift wooden bat from the ground, and began strolling toward Draven, its grin growing wider and weirder the more distance it covered.
"Fuck!" Draven, who had been pretending to keep it in, finally erupted. He stood up, and his eyes scanned the room thoroughly for an exit, and he found one. Unfortunately, it was currently guarded by a couple of armed goblins. He was now stuck between a frying pan and a fire.
At that moment, he could not help but curse the survival system. Why would it send him, an ordinary human, into such a weird world without a simple buff or weapon? It simply planned to kill him off, just like its past victims.
Thinking about it deeply, Draven wondered if the survival system had ever actually had any survivors.
Unfortunately, the present situation granted him insufficient time to collect his thoughts.
Before the goblin reached him, Draven broke into a full sprint, running at the peak of his agility toward the exit. Both the goblins and the conscious-but-scared humans in the room turned in his direction, but none of them acted.
Before Draven had woken up, plenty of the abducted people had attempted to flee, but none of them had ever succeeded. If anything, their attempts landed them on the butcher's table, and for the ladies... The people's minds turned chilling as they recalled the fate of the females.
On the other hand, seeing that none of the goblins were chasing him, including the one that had targeted him, Draven knew something was absolutely wrong.
It didn't take long for him to figure out the reason: it was none other than the three goblins guarding the exit. The other goblins simply had faith in their guards.
"Fortunately, I've taken some combat lessons in my youth," he thought.
He clenched his fists as he drew closer to the exit, where the three guard goblins had already begun warming up their weapons with thrilled grins on their faces. Draven could not help but notice the blood dripping from their weapons; it was definitely from their past victims, and he could not accept being one.
A stick! Draven spotted a tiny but durable-looking stick lying on the ground. He squatted expertly to grab it.
DING!
[ You've equipped a basic-grade item: Crooked stick ]
Draven simply stole a glance at the notification and refocused his attention on the goblins, who were now a few meters away from him.
Once they noticed he had gotten closer, they made their move. One of them let out a high-pitched screech and leapt toward Draven, swinging its heavy makeshift wooden bat with confidence.
Draven halted instinctively and swiftly swung his stick to block the goblin's attack. As their weapons clashed, Draven naturally felt the difference in strength between them. His hands throbbed badly.
SKREEE! The goblin's screech turned furious after failing to smash its target into unconsciousness with one attack. With rage, it swung again, this time aiming at Draven's stomach.
Luckily, Draven saw the attack coming. His eyes furrowed, and he immediately held the stick perfectly vertical in front of his body, grabbing it with all his strength.
The goblin's weapon came crashing down and broke the stick into two. But, the stick managed to dull the lethal attack, granting Draven an opportunity he quickly seized.
Before the goblin could retract its weapon and attack once more, Draven let go of his stick and latched onto the weapon as though his life depended on it.
His action immediately changed the expressions of the onlookers. The goblin onlookers were confused and furious. How could a human, especially one as scrawny-looking as Draven, manage to go toe-to-toe with their guards?
Meanwhile, the humans slowly realized they had found a potential savior.
Oblivious to the changes his actions had caused, Draven put up a fight with his target.
SKREEE! The goblin was enraged. It let go of the weapon and sent a lethal punch at Draven's fully exposed face.
The punch connected.
Instead of wincing in pain and falling to the ground like an ordinary human would, Draven grinned instead. Using all his strength and his combat knowledge, he twisted the wooden bat and then swung it at the goblin with all his might.
The weapon smashed the goblin's face and sent it to the ground. It let out a low, guttural growl of pain—a growl that sounded a warning to the other two guard goblins, who immediately attacked. U
Unlike the first guard goblin, the other two were holding wooden weapons shaped like swords. They were easy opponents.
A fight broke out between Draven and the two of them and ended in four minutes.
The three goblins were now on the ground, wincing in pain. Two of them had dislocated joints, and one of them, Draven's first victim, bled profusely from his face.
The sight turned the entire cave silent for the following ten seconds.
The goblins who had already halted their assaults could not help but stare at the human standing over their weakened partners with contempt.
The conscious people, on the other hand, were even more hopeful about their situation.
Unfortunately for them, Draven had no single motive to rescue them.
Under the eyes fixed on him, both human and goblin, Draven turned his back and fled outside the cave—to freedom, or so he thought.
The goblins within the cave did not bother to chase after him, contrary to Draven's expectation. Whether it was due to shock or not was unknown.