The goblin walked.
Its steps were short and clumsy. The greenish glow of the moss hanging from the walls reflected off its damp skin, casting a strange shimmer over its wide eyes. From time to time, it sniffed the air, nostrils flaring like a hound searching for a lost scent.
The Dungeon was quiet. Too quiet, even for it's standarts.
Then, a sound.
Tap.
A loose stone rolled across the floor, origin unknown, probably just a stray pebble.
The goblin stopped. Slowly turned, blinking. It watched the corridor for a few seconds… nothing. Only the echo of its own guttural muttering and the muffled sound of its breathing.
— Tch. — It snorted low and kept walking.
A few more steps.
Tap.
Another sound. Another stone.
The goblin stopped again, turning more quickly this time. It growled. Nothing. The corridor was still empty.
Its eyes narrowed. It drew in a deep breath, head lowered, shoulders tense. But it pressed on.
One… two… three steps…
Tap!
This time, something struck it.
A pebble. Small, harmless. But enough to bounce off the top of its head and clatter onto the ground with a dry noise.
— Brrrk. — The goblin let out a click of irritation. It whipped around, its squat muscles taut with alertness. Its eyes swept the walls, the corners, the ceiling. It was sure something was there.
It stepped back. Prowled. Sniffed. Listened.
Nothing.
But it did not give up.
It turned left, where the corridor bent sharply. It passed by a fallen boulder, so focused it did not noticed the person hidden in its shadow.
A few more steps. The corridor ahead was empty.
The goblin stopped. Wrinkled its nose.
Anger faded, and its mind cleared, letting it catch the scent of leather, metal, most of all, the scent of an elf.
But when it turned… it was already too late.
Crack.
A bronze sword blade jammed sideways into the goblin's neck. It wasn't a clean cut, the bone resisted, the muscles didn't give way immediately.
— Gruuua! — It screeched, thrashing like a fish out of water.
Bam!
A fist smashed straight into its face. Yellowed teeth flew. The body toppled backward, half kneeling.
And then, the finishing blow.
The blade came back, straight in the left eye. A sharp crack, followed by a dull thud.
The goblin fell. Motionless. Eyes still open, staring at nothing.
The Dungeon returned to silence.
— Fuuu~… just as I thought. It really was a monster — Luki let out a long sigh, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the guard on his forearm.
…
The moment he concluded that goblin truly was a monster, he hadn't hesitated. Hunter mode had switched on. Focused mind. Body in readiness.
During the hunt, his impressions, doubts, and certainties about that strange goblin began to crystallize.
After all, he'd used this strategy dozens of times. Toss a stone at the wall, the goblins would hear it, and like wasps drawn to a flame, they'd follow the sound. Distracted by nothing for precious minutes, and in the end, Luki would decapitate them.
Simple. Fast. Efficient.
Goblins are sneaky and treacherous, yes… but like any other monster, they're stupidly dumb. It was as if all their knowledge existed only as instinct and everything else was ignored.
Who would stay distracted for nearly five minutes over a pebble bouncing on the floor?
Only a goblin.
Luki had tested it more times than he could count. An empirically proven method, based on his own hunts.
But that goblin… was different.
First, it ignored the first stone. Stayed focused. Didn't react like the others, just snorted and kept moving, as if thinking, "Just a pebble."
Then it ignored the second attempt too. This time, it was visibly irritated, bothered by the repetition, and still, it managed to control the impulse. Didn't investigate. Just moved on.
A goblin with focus? With self-control?
The third time, Luki threw a stone directly at its nape. Only then did the creature stop and turn, convinced something was wrong.
Up until that point, its behavior showed clear signs for a monster of higher intelligence. Emotions, reasoning, restraint, priorities.
For a moment, Luki wondered: Am I mistaken? Is this really a Xeno…?
But any shadow of doubt evaporated the next instant.
The goblin had walked just steps away from where Luki was hiding, when the corridor bent. If it had simply glanced to the side… if it had widened its vision… it would have seen Luki there, still as stone.
But it hadn't.
Not because it was distracted but because it was obsessed. Too focused on what it thought was ahead.
Tunnel vision. A mistake even beginner adventurers make. But in its case, it was almost comical in its patheticness.
When the goblin's keen sense of smell finally picked up its enemy, it was already too late.
The blade was already descending.
…
And the surprises didn't end there.
Luki always kept his attributes well balanced. His current Strength of 65 points was more than enough to cut through a fifth-floor goblin's neck in a single strike. Even with a bronze sword, of inferior quality, the difference in stats should have made up for it.
But it hadn't.
The blow wasn't fatal. The blade didn't cleave through completely. The goblin not only survived the first strike, it still had the strength to struggle.
For a moment, Luki was caught off guard, nearly leaving an opening for the prey to counterattack. But with a punch to the face and one last strike to the head, the beast was finished.
Still, he couldn't help but wipe the sweat that had gathered without him noticing. Though he wouldn't admit it, he had been tens.
Over a "mere" goblin.
Either way, mission complete.
…
— Smarter... and stronger too. Stronger than a normal fifth-floor goblin… — Luki muttered aloud.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
— I've never been past the fifth floor. But judging by the resistance I felt to that strike, and the progression of power between goblins from the first to the fifth…
— I think that goblin had the toughness of a seventh or even eighth-floor monster. I couldn't gauge its strength or speed, but they're probably at the same level.
— A monster with eighth-floor strength on the first floor? How is that even possible? That's the kind of thing I'd expect from Goddess Freya, but something tells me that's not it.
— Besides... —
THUMP!
Something crashed down on him with force, slamming into his back and smashing his face into the stone floor.
— Grrgh—?! — Luki groaned, stunned, the impact ringing in his head like a cracked bell. A muffled guttural growl followed, right above him.
A goblin?!
He tried to twist, but something pressed down on his back with its weight, claws digging into his shoulders. There was no sound of a rift opening. No warning. No magical crackle in the air.
Nothing.
Just the sudden crash.
— GET OFF! — Luki forced his body sideways, trying to shake it off, but the enemy thrashed with wild fury.
THUD!
A punch landed at the back of his head, smashing his face against the stone floor. His lips split on impact, blood pouring hot and fast.
THUD! THUD!
Two more blows followed, grinding his forehead against the jagged stone. The pain was sharp—vibrant, but thanks to the leather helm, the strikes were dulled enough to keep him conscious.
Even so, each hit blurred his vision, slowed his thoughts.
The monster on his back roared over him, utterly frenzied.
Luki clenched his teeth, mustering strength to fight back.
But before he could move, the monster's teeth sank into his shoulder, or tried to. A dry clack rang out as fangs scraped against hardened leather.
The bite was strong enough to tear flesh, if not for the armor.
—You son of a…!
Adrenaline burst through his veins.
In one sudden, near-instinctive motion, Luki slammed his head back, the back of his skull smashing into the goblin's jaw.
A dull crack. A pained grunt.
The creature reeled, torso arching, jaws snapping loose.
Luki wasted no time.
He twisted, landing a sharp elbow strike into the goblin's ribs.
He tried to scramble to his feet, knees scraping against stone, but the goblin recovered in a surge of rage and lunged again.
This time, Luki faced it head-on.
The two collided with brutal force, rolling across the Dungeon floor.
Now it was a desperate struggle for space.
The goblin snarled, frothing, trying to claw at his face, jaws snapping toward his eyes and nose.
Luki barely managed to hold its wrists, his arms trembling with strain.
The goblin's maw gaped wider and wider, threatening to devour the first chance it got.
The deadlock dragged on for seconds that felt like minutes.
Luki locked its wrists with all his might, arms stretched taut, shaking, trying to keep the fangs away.
The monster snarled, bloodshot eyes glaring, saliva foaming. Its arms were thin, almost skeletal in literal sense, but the strength… The strength was absurd. Impossible. Clearly, it was stronger than him.
— Damn…! Buffed midget!
Luki's muscles burned. His breath came ragged.
Then the goblin lunged again, snapping its jaws forward in a desperate bite.
An opening.
That was all Luki needed.
He yanked his head back, and slammed it forward, crashing his forehead squarely into the monster's nose judt when it clamped his mouth.
The crack was loud and wet. The goblin squealed in pain.
In a flash, Luki freed one arm and threw a right hook with his whole body's weight into the creature's face.
The second punch came right after, a sharp cross to the temple.
The goblin flinched, but didn't fall back. Instead, it swung wildly and raked its claws across Luki's face, from forehead to chin.
Pain seared instantly. A deep gash tore down the right side of his face, blood pouring hot.
— TCHAAAA!
The scream wasn't pain. It was fury.
Luki seized the goblin's head with both hands, ignoring the sting, the blurred vision. And slammed it sideways against the stone ground.
The crack of skull on rock was muffled but sharp.
He gave it no chance.
He surged up, and now he was on top.
His weight pinned the goblin's chest, and for the first time, he had the advantage.
Luki wasted no time.
With a quick motion, he drew his sword and raised it, ready to plunge the blade into its chest. But the angle between them was terrible, cramped. The goblin thrashed even dazed, arms pushing and clawing.
No way to stab cleanly.
So he turned the blade sideways, pressing hard against its throat, trying to slice horizontally. A shallow cut opened, thin and bloody but not lethal.
Just enough time for the goblin.
With a guttural snarl, it clawed at the blade, resisting. Skin split, fingers slipped on the edge, but still it pushed.
Blood poured from its palms. Yet no matter how hard Luki pressed, no matter how his body trembled, the goblin was stronger. The blade slid away from its throat, inch by inch.
— Just... die…
All logic evaporated. Strategy, tactics, technique, gone.
With a beastly roar, Luki bent over the blade and, eyes wild, sank his teeth into the goblin's fingers.
The acrid taste of blood filled his mouth. His teeth threatened to crack. But he bit harder.
Crack, Crack... Gash!
With a sickening snap, two fingers tore free. The goblin shrieked in agony.
Luki spat the digits back at its face.
The monster wailed in pain, his hands slipping in the blade.
The opening.
Luki dug his knees into the stone, and with one last surge of adrenaline, he pressed the sword down with all his weight.
The blade sank into the goblin's throat, severing its airway. Air turned to bloody wheezes. It choked, wide-eyed, red foam spilling from its mouth.
It still resisted. Hands trembling, shoving with the last desperate sparks of life. But Luki had already won the clash of wills.
With another grunt, he forced the blade deeper until the goblin's arms fell limp.
Silence.
Only Luki's ragged breath filled the Dungeon.
The goblin's body slackened. Life faded from its eyes.
For a moment, Luki just stared at the corpse beneath him. Blood still dripped from his blade, hot, pooling on the stone floor.
His breath was broken, gasping. Each inhale hurt.
He let go of the hilt with one hand, wiping the sweat and blood from his torn cheek. His face throbbed and burned. His mouth still tasted of iron and bile.
He stayed there, motionless, for a while longer.
Then he stood, unsteady, knees weak, dragging the sword until it lifted again. Shoulders slumped, guard lowered in exhaustion. Every muscle felt like lead.
He took a step.
And without warning, spun violently and slashed behind him.
A sharp scream split the air along with the sound of meat being cut
The blade met flesh, bone, cartilage. A goblin had leapt at him, but was cut in the throat midair. It crashed beside him, writhing.
Without hesitation, Luki slashed again. And again. And again.
They were short anf clumsy blows, but heavy enough to crush any resistance. Until the monster stopped reacting.
Luki panted again. And finally, let out a weary sigh.
—Damn Dungeon… no matter how much it changes, it's always the same.
He didn't look back. He hadn't sensed or heard a thing.
No instinct. No shiver of warning. No sound of a rift.
But he knew. He knew a monster was there. Because, why not?
After a grueling fight, when his senses dulled, muscles failing and focus scattered. The Dungeon would send another monster.
Not out of malice. But because that's what it did.
And so, Luki struck.
And he was right.
For the second time that day, he had barely avoided death.