INTRODUCTION
The Homeworld of Asshor.
Long ago, the Great Lords adapted to a new world order after the cataclysm. They embraced the opportunities that came with the inevitable destruction of their world. The bloody wars between kings and their subjects have long since ended, replaced by true heroes who gained the strength of Gods. Amidst the endless strife and cruelty, at least three-quarters of the world's population perished.
Over the centuries that followed the cataclysm, all memory of the carefree times before the tragedy completely withered away from the minds of the common people. Over thousands of years, new legends and myths emerged, glorifying entirely different heroes. Old cities turned to dust at the snap of the new Gods' fingers, and slaves built new ones in their place. But these are stories of long-past eras.
Nowadays, for hundreds of years, the Great Lords, at the behest of their Gods, have been sending soldiers and subjects to other worlds.
In some places, they go as valiant defenders or mercenaries.
In others, they act as limitlessly greedy marauders.
Most often, however, these campaigns are nothing more than bloody pillages of those beings who are unable to defend themselves or their property.
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CHAPTER 1
Craven Goblins
Zhurek the Slippery sent my squad of ten to sweep Sector 134 of this godforsaken city. Fortunately, the main pressure from the bugs had subsided a week ago, when the senior officers used concentrated volleys to wipe out the resistance of those god-abhorrent arachnids on the surface of the ruins.
Now, day by day, we were gradually advancing into the uncharted sectors of the ancient city in a quest for what amounted to pure luck, if you could even call it that. Our main objective was to pinpoint the coordinates and exact locations of the clutches of unhatched spider eggs, which were of immense value to the senior officers.
And, of course, we couldn't forget about System Points (SP), which had replaced currency both in our homeland and in countless other worlds. A find like a spider clutch came with a considerable SP bonus.
Our Lurion (50-man leader), Zhurek the Slippery, was, to put it mildly, quite the coward. But then again, so was any goblin with a healthy respect for himself. That's why he practically never left the forward camp, which was guarded by two dozen soldiers. He explained this away as the necessity of protecting the rear and the experience hoards, as well as all the resources we'd gathered. But in truth, any noble would try to risk their life as little as possible, especially not for nothing.
This was my second time on a mission to the world of Pakkot in my 46 years of life. All things considered, I even liked this godforsaken place. The silence of the ruins, abandoned centuries ago, carried a hidden charm. Here, a gentle wind tirelessly carried the centuries-old ash and dust of the spiders who lost the war for their existence. Most importantly, there were almost no surprises—the kind that were usually fatal.
In my humble opinion and with my vast experience, the main objective of expeditions to other worlds has always been safety. My own safety, of course. And with my Level 12, the local spiders posed very little threat, maybe only in rare cases.
Of course, my level isn't impressive, but in our home world of Asshor, only aristocrats or the goblins close to them can afford a high level. All free experience of soldiers is strictly controlled by senior officers with the help of the Appraisal skill. That's why all SP is regularly surrendered to them in experience hoards.
It might seem a little unfair, but in my opinion, that's just one side of the story. This is how things have been for centuries in my home world. Even Zhurek the Slippery, although he's a senior officer and a Lurion with access to the experience hoards, isn't allowed to level up whenever he pleases.
All loot is strictly logged, and at the end of a mission, officers are entitled to a certain percentage of the total share. They can spend that on whatever their heart desires. But if you try to steal SP, not even a drowned man would envy your fate. He who's being eaten alive will be laughing as he watches you.
For the especially cunning and ambitious thieves, the priests of Great Anteros had a skill at their disposal for sentencing System Point theft: Soul Torture. It inflicts unbearable suffering, making the very essence and core of a living creature writhe in unbearable pain for days, weeks, or, for the most brazen, sometimes even years. After all, there is no greater crime in our world than theft from Great Anteros himself. And everything on his lands, including SP, belongs only to him, as the priests preach.
So, back to the reconnaissance. My squad moved as usual, with Raum and Rekel, my young scouts, about fifty paces ahead. They weren't very smart, but so far, they were getting the job done.
What always surprised me about these young goblins was that they had no great ambition. No, what am I saying, they had no decent ambition at all! Every healthy and ambitious goblin dreams of undergoing transmigration and being reborn in the body of a hobgoblin, or at the very least, overcoming the attribute limits and becoming something like a great warrior. But all these two wanted after a mission were some busty goblin girls and a lot of booze—that's all they had planned for the next few years. And yet they'd been serving in the Lord's army for at least two years. But they hadn't gotten any wiser.
One thing you couldn't take away from these dimwits was their incredible luck. One minute Raum would slip on a flat surface, but in doing so, he'd let an arrow pass by a palm's length from his head. Or, on the last mission, Rekel survived when a building collapsed after being hit by a fireball. He fell into a rotten basement a split second before the explosion and got off with nothing but a scare, without a single serious injury.
My battle mage, Leur, isn't wrong when he says that the Luck stat can be more important for survival than any other.
In the formation I usually use, the main emphasis is on my own safety, and of course, on my support mage's. The scouts are in front, the mage Leur and I are in the center, and eight shield warriors are around us. The greatest value is the mage, since the most System Points were spent on him.
The scouts' job in these cursed ruins, in the eternal gloom of the welcoming world of Pakkot, is to spot danger, assess it, and most importantly, not get caught by the enemy while reporting back to me. It's a simple, and even somewhat boring job; the main thing is not to lose vigilance during the entire daylight period.
The scouts find a target and lure it to the main group, and then we follow the practiced routine—a magical barrier spell from the mage and a massive volley of arrows at the enemy. Of course, for an average goblin, it's quite scary to get into a close-quarters fight with arachnids; those creatures are about two cubits tall at low levels, and if they feast to Level 4 or 5, they can grow to all of three cubits tall, though that's pretty rare. The half-wild creatures don't often allocate their stats in an ideal way. But taking blows from their chitinous paws on a shield wall is much easier than fighting them one-on-one. When you know your soldier to the right is drawing his bow and will let an arrow fly straight into the vile spider's eye at the right moment, it's much easier and calmer to hold back the monsters' assault.
So, if we kill them all, we then use a System weapon to drain the arachnids. I'm so used to it, calling them arachnids instead of bugs, like everyone's used to. It's all because of that fastidious Leur and his books; he's been picking at the whole squad's brains with his lectures. Now even I've got those words stuck in my head.
If there are too many enemies, we save our mage. Sometimes at the cost of the common soldiers' lives. Yes, the mage. If Leur dies, there's no point in returning to camp; you'll live longer if you don't. For the loss of the squad's most valuable asset, you're executed on the spot, without a lengthy trial.
As soon as our System Point reserves reach the limit, we return to the forward camp and pour all the accumulated experience into the senior officer. And we do this again and again until nightfall, since the spiders are more active at night. Most importantly, they can see perfectly in the dark, unlike us goblins.
On that day, everything went awry from the very morning. I woke up again in a cold sweat, with my heart pounding in my chest, just before dawn. The nightmare wouldn't let me get a good night's sleep again.
Once again, a damned E-rank arachnid warrior was chewing on my leg with a huge appetite. Dreams like that weren't uncommon for me, or for many veterans. For a soldier who'd served in the Lord's army for over 30 years and had several lost limbs regrown with Regeneration during that time, there was nothing surprising about it. Well, except for the fact that I managed to survive. But the pleasantries of that morning didn't end there.
"Decurion Irchin, you've really let your squad go," Lurion Zhurek said with a snide smile, sipping a fragrant herbal broth. "Your loot this week is the most meager among all my squads."
For some reason, Zhurek the Slippery was in a great mood during the morning meal, so he decided to chide me for having gathered the least experience over the past week and threatened to cut my reward for this mission. I was used to it after years of service and didn't really pay attention to the petty tricks anymore; my age just wasn't what it used to be. Senior officers always and in every way try to save on their squad leaders' combat bonuses, as it's a great way to personally earn a little more SP.
But today the Slippery was especially loudmouthed, and because of it, I wanted to rip his tongue out even more than usual. In truth, there was some truth to his words; we came to this world to hunt and plunder, not to patrol it. But to cut my mission bonus was a bit much. Even as a joke. He knew I was saving up experience to remove the barrier from my Strength stat, because I still had two unallocated attribute points from bonus levels.
There are some stats you can develop on your own with exercises and training, like Strength, Agility, and Stamina. Others, like Vitality, Intelligence, and Perception, can also be improved, but with great difficulty. Vitality, for example, could be maxed out by casting healing spells on yourself or drinking potions of regeneration for several years. But that's just theoretical talk, of course, since only rich aristocrats, or at least a mage who also belongs to a noble family, can afford something like that.
It's even hard to say anything about Intelligence. There are a lot of rumors that if you read books for many years in a row, you can increase this stat by one point, but that's just a tall tale. That's why I've never been in a hurry to allocate my attributes. After all, only the most persistent or the most lucky can reach the top. After all, isn't being born into a noble family a stroke of true luck?
But let's get back to the problem of not enough experience. What could I do, really, when the spiders' clutches were getting rarer and rarer, and we had to go deeper and deeper into the basements of ruined houses? Especially after my scout Raum was wounded three days ago in one of the small spider tunnels. They healed his leg, but the mage didn't spend much mana. He stopped the bleeding and let the natural regeneration of a young organism take care of the rest. Now no one wants to go deep. But someone had to lure the creatures to the main group.
It's understandable that the stone buildings have almost been destroyed in the hundred years since the fall of civilization in this world, and that god-abhorrent webbing is everywhere. At least it's not sticky, since only the highest arachnids can weave ensnaring traps. The eternally dim star in this world is a story all its own, and if it weren't for the goblins' good vision in dim light—not as sharp as the spiders', of course, but still—they'd probably be hunting us, not the other way around. The arachnids' degradation was taking its toll; they were now more monsters than rational creatures. Though Lurion Zhurek told us to be on our guard, since there were still entire cities of these creatures deep underground. The ones who didn't accept the death of their Gods.
So, I decided to slightly change our tactics. As a result, my squad was now camped in a relatively intact mansion. I placed the fighters around the perimeter and realized that I would have to go with Rekel, my only, and so far still whole, scout. It happened sometimes. I can't say I liked the idea, but I didn't have much of a choice. No matter who I sent with Rekel, they'd just make a show of working but definitely wouldn't go into dangerous places. Because everyone except the officers—and I'm one of them, albeit a junior one—has a fixed rate for the mission. We decurions get a percentage of the loot after the mission is over. So, unlike my fighters, I had some motivation to get as many resources as possible.
There were four other estates near my temporary camp, large enough for arachnids to have set up in the basements.
"Alright, Rekel, get your bow ready. We'll go in a pair, covering each other. I've got my shield and a short sword. We'll try to get deeper into the tunnels. Maybe we'll get lucky today and stumble upon at least a small clutch."
Rekel fidgeted a little but still asked, "Decurion Irchin, maybe we shouldn't go so deep? Raum got his leg gashed last time. We went in too deep, and a little bug from a side tunnel bit him by surprise."
Our mage, Leur, chimed in with his usual lectures, his nasty high-pitched voice saying, "How many times have I told you, they are arachnids, don't call them bugs." He put on an important face. "And a clutch would be really useful for us. They give you one SP for each egg. They'll raise them, fatten them up, and in the future, they'll be able to collect at least 10 SP from each of them on the farm."
"That's enough, Leur, don't anger me with your empty chatter. What do you think I'm carrying this Bag of Holding for?" I snapped angrily. "Alright Rekel, let's move out. Today we'll try to clear the tunnels more aggressively. We'll try to finish off single targets right there without bringing them back to the whole squad."
"Decurion Irchin," Rekel bleated, "maybe we should at least take Arel with us? He's Level 10, after all."
"Oh, sure, let's take my assistant, and those thick-headed slugs will let an attack on Leur get through, and then there'll be no reason for me to come back from the tunnels. Don't infuriate me with your stupidity, or have you gotten too many toes back already?"
To be honest, goblins have never been known for great discipline, and it was a common thing for a decurion to give a good beating to misbehaving soldiers. Sometimes I'd even cut off one toe for those who had really messed up; after a procedure like that, many of them would get their heads on straight.
"By the way, Arel, how's that toe of yours growing back?" I said quietly, but loud enough for everyone in the courtyard to hear.
"It's... fine, Decurion Irchin," my assistant said glumly.
The arguing ended there. The reminder of my executions instantly killed the joviality in my squad, and everyone focused on their positions.
The estates were about two to three hundred paces apart, but the tunnels dug by the spiders could well connect the buildings underground over a much greater distance. At the entrance to the first ruins I picked, we were met by a Level 1 arachnid. It was lifting small stones and carrying them inside the ruined gate. Only the System knows how it picked the right ones for itself from the huge piles of stone fragments.
When it was out of sight, Rekel and I both got our bows ready and, along the intact part of the stone fence, we closed the distance to about 20 paces from the entrance to the estate. We could've gone inside, of course, but courageous goblins don't do that. We didn't have to wait long. When the arachnid paused for a single breath to choose which stone to pick up, we released our arrows. Not counting on great accuracy, since I was only Level 2 in bows and Rekel was only Level 1, we aimed for the creature's large belly.
It paid off. Both arrows, with a slight pause between them, went halfway into the spider's body. The arachnid flinched, hissed, and jerkily began to turn toward us. We managed to release one more arrow each, and we even got a better hit on the cephalothorax.
After that, I raised my favorite big shield, a rare E-rank one, and my F-rank short sword in my left hand. I moved a little to the left so Rekel could continue shooting his bow. But the arrows were enough, and the arachnid slowed down a lot. I took one hit on my shield and with my sword, I nearly chopped off its front leg. The spider shrieked, and at that moment, Rekel's arrow went straight into its head. Without wasting a second, I thrust my sword into its chest, aiming for the heart.
[Notice] You have received 2 SP. (2/120)
"Rekel, check the yard, now!" I growled.
It was obvious the scout was still shaking from the close encounter with the arachnid; he was used to running away from enemies, not fighting them in close combat. He had shot his last arrow from three or four paces away, practically at point-blank range. But even that was too much for the cowardly Rekel.
"Decurion Irchin," Rekel said nervously, his voice trembling, "there are three more bugs coming out of a hole under the central building, and one of them is Level 4."
"Get back! We'll give them a volley and then head for camp. RUN!" I yelled the last word much louder, realizing that the scout was too afraid to properly register my commands.
In reality, there was nothing dangerous about this situation. Worker arachnids were F-rank creatures and lost to goblins in running speed by almost a factor of two on open ground. In the tunnels, they could hang on the ceiling, unnoticed until they attacked, and then they were a much greater threat. But here, what was there to be afraid of? Then again, what could you expect from a young and still sniveling goblin? He was about 15 years old, but judging by his flimsy build, he hadn't tried to increase his stats with training, relying only on the System. A pretty stupid choice, if you ask me, but it was his personal lack of desire to become stronger.
When we ran into our small camp, I was pleased. Everyone was assembled and their bows were drawn. When the bugs burst through the ruined gate, they were met by a unified volley of 11 arrows.
"Chikir, I saw you miss again!" I yelled at my rookie.
He was the youngest goblin in the squad. He was small and seemed nimble, but it felt like the System didn't grant him even five attribute points for all his stats when he was born; he was just so awkward. But I had a little hope that the hard training would fix his clumsiness a bit.
Two spiders immediately fell over, and the third one, the Level 4, was apparently smarter and waited a bit, letting his valuable comrades go first.
"Leur, hit him with lightning!" I yelled to our mage.
His mana reserve was full, and he could easily spend 100 units on the spell. And he hit. Say what you will, but there's a reason everyone is envious of mages. A brief flash, and the tough Level 4 arachnid fell over. There wasn't even a death tremor; it died instantly. Thin wisps of black, nasty-smelling smoke began to rise from under every crack in its shell.
"Rekel, quickly to the gate, check if anyone else is running."
"Arel, collect the experience from these spiders, and hurry up. Don't dilly-dally, they're already dead," I yelled at him.
He's always overcautious, afraid that the enemy is playing dead and will grab his throat at the last second. I mean, yes, that's possible. But we always finish them off with spears. So his behavior still looks like cowardice, but all goblins are cowardly, except for overconfident corpses. It's not for nothing that his nickname is Ash. It sounds good, but only if you don't know the backstory of how he deserted and hid in a burned-down house for several days. When the Lord's soldiers found him, and he finally crawled out from hunger, he was covered from head to toe in soot and ash. That's how the nickname stuck, and it means "despicable coward," not "the last survivor," which is how the word is translated from my native language to the System's. But that was several years ago, so a lot has been forgotten. Anyway, his stats aren't bad, and in a fight, when there's nowhere to run, he's actually pretty good.
We gathered 16 SP from these spiders. While my soldiers were pulling the arrows from the bodies, Rekel and I went back to the first mansion. While my scout was carving out our arrows and anything of value from the body of the spider we killed, I was examining the interior space surrounded by the stone fence. After putting everything in the Bag of Holding, we checked the half-ruined building on the surface. But as usual, we didn't find anything worthwhile. We were faced with a choice: go down the remains of the stairs into the basement or go into the tunnel dug by the bugs.
"So, what do you say, Rekel, which way should we go?" I whispered.
"Maybe we should make some noise here first, in case they crawl out on their own?" the scout whispered nervously, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
"Yeah, so a couple of bugs can sneak up on us from the next mansion and block us in here. I'll get through, you know that perfectly well, with my Level 12. But what about you?" I said with an impassive face, as if leaving him to be torn apart by the arachnids was the most ordinary thing in the world.
"Decurion Irchin, I-I didn't think, forgive me," he began to wail, glancing fearfully at the ruined gate of the mansion and then at the tunnel entrance and the staircase in front of us.
"Rekel, stand down. Light a torch, and we'll check the basement."
We moved slowly; the torch didn't give off as much light as I would have liked, and the occasional flash of spiderweb temporarily blinded us. But I was almost completely safe. The light from the torch was behind my right shoulder. So my eyes quickly got used to the darkness. But Rekel wouldn't be able to react properly to a sudden attack, and he knew it. That knowledge made him even more nervous.
We had already checked the entire first basement floor, but we didn't find anything valuable. Just broken ancient jugs, rotten wooden shelves, and sometimes rodent bones. We rarely found larger remains, but it was difficult to tell who they belonged to—all guesswork. Rekel was afraid to touch them, but I made sure to poke them with my sword. Just in case a jewel glistened in the torchlight.
At first glance, the situation seemed unbelievable, but about ten years ago, I accidentally found a rare E-rank Storage Ring in a similar pile of ancient trash. For that, I was rewarded with Level 11 and given the experience to overcome the barrier in my Perception stat. So even though the chance was slim, there was still a chance to find something valuable. But unfortunately, we weren't lucky on this floor.
When we went down to the second basement level, Rekel started whispering nervously.
"I think I saw something."
"Calm down, stop shaking; you're only making it worse. Hold the torch steady," I whispered angrily at him.
But the scout kept looking around and jerking the torch from side to side. At first, I wanted to give him a good one in the ribs, but for a moment, something really unpleasant flickered in the doorway about 10 paces ahead.
"Rekel, listen carefully," I whispered as calmly as possible under the circumstances. "Slowly, without rushing, we move back to the stairs."
This cowardly goblin kept his fear in check for about 10 paces, but as soon as a head and then a paw clearly appeared in that doorway, that spawn of Nurgle threw his torch and bolted up the stairs, his heels flashing.
To be honest, I expected this situation to play out from the very beginning and was ready. Competing in speed with Rekel was a losing battle. He wore light leather armor, and not even a full set; he was missing a few pieces. He had sheathed his sword a few moments earlier, and his shield had fallen onto the stone floor with the torch. About five years ago, I managed to buy a decent suit of medium armor from a neighboring world for a huge amount of System Points, by my standards, of course.
The armor covered my entire body with a dense fabric, and in vital areas, there were plates that felt like a strange bone and looked like steel, but the merchant swore it was a mysterious metal alloy. But that wasn't important; the main thing was that a regular arrow couldn't pierce it, and a sword couldn't cut the material, at least not in the hands of a simple goblin. And I probably couldn't count how many times this armor had saved my life.
The only things that remained truly dangerous to me were blows from heavy blunt weapons that would shatter my bones and internal organs. And magic, of course, would punch right through it and not even notice. May Great Anteros forbid that something like that ever be shot at me. So if I survive, I'll deal with him back at camp. If not, then he acted prudently.
I heard the footsteps of the fleeing Rekel and didn't even turn around. All my attention was focused on the arachnid in front of me, slowly appearing in the flickering light of the torch smoking on the stone floor. And there was a lot to look at.
Large paws, a belly about a couple of cubits wide, and an anthropomorphic torso with arms and a head larger than my own. A nasty head that was clearly smiling with huge fangs. In its hands was a spear, about four cubits long. But that wasn't what was important; it was something else entirely.
In front of me stood a Warrior Arachnid, E-rank, Level 4. There was a chance in a direct confrontation, of course, but if I were to be completely honest with myself, there was no chance at all. Thick chitinous armor, high Perception and Agility—and all that from birth. I'd rather not imagine what stats this arachnid had increased when it leveled up. It could probably catch up to Rekel after killing me if it wanted to. But this creature wasn't in a hurry. Right, they love to devour their victims alive. To sink their fangs into warm meat while the victim desperately thrashes in their death throes.
But no matter how hopeless this situation was, it was too early to give up. As a junior officer—or thanks to the money I didn't spare—I had access to a couple of vials of alchemical liquid. Two years ago, I used an explosive mixture against a pack of demonic dogs and managed to get the mage and my squad back almost alive. And now I had a chance in my hand. It was a weak chance, to be honest, but a chance nonetheless. And it wasn't worth ignoring.
I threw the ridged glass flask with a strength and speed that I probably couldn't repeat even if I wanted to. The flask flew through the dark corridor of the basement, and the faint light of the torch reflected off its sides, making it seem like it was overcoming the distance from me to the arachnid with great difficulty. But the scariest thing wasn't that this spawn of the abyss shattered the ridged flask with its spear in mid-flight, but how it did it. Leisurely, as if it were lazy, with a measured and precise movement. And that meant its stats were at a level unattainable to me.
Meanwhile, the flask exploded in a dark gray cloud of gas, and a moment later, a protective field flickered around the arachnid, deflecting the small glass shards, some of which still managed to reach it.
The spawn of the abyss is a mage, though I only registered that at the edge of my awareness, trying to run up the stairs as fast as I could. I had a couple of moments at most, and it seemed I wouldn't make it. Time slowed down. The fear of dying right now completely consumed me from the inside, preventing me from thinking. Even the air seemed to have become denser and wouldn't let me run at full speed. I still flew up the stairs, almost not touching the stone steps, and even managed to try to jump to the side. An explosion thundered, and it was so powerful that everything jumped in front of my eyes, my body was mercilessly thrown aside, and I lost consciousness.
When I came to, I couldn't even believe I was still alive, but judging by the dust that was still in the air, I hadn't been unconscious for very long. I slowly got up. My head was spinning, of course, the pain in my ears was terrible, and my body was still trying to fall down, but I had been through worse a couple of times in my life.
And now the question was, what to do next? Go back to camp and not tempt fate, or go see what happened to that damned arachnid warrior. I guess I must have hit my head on the wall pretty hard to talk myself into taking the risk. But still, since it hadn't crawled out and finished me off right away, the explosion must have seriously wounded it.
On the second basement floor, some flames were still smoldering on the walls, and that at least somewhat dispelled the oppressive darkness. The spider was lying on its back, partly leaning against the wall near the doorway it had come out of. Some of its spider legs were torn off and hung in strips of sinew. A large pool of blood had spread on the floor. The warrior arachnid was definitely hit hard against the wall by the blast wave. I approached very cautiously, ready to strike with my spear at any moment. I used the Reference skill on the wounded arachnid and saw the words above its head.
[Arachnid Warrior, Rank E, Level 9]
Without a second's hesitation, I thrust my spear into the creature's chest, right where the chitinous plates had split from the recent explosion. If the arachnid hadn't had that large open wound, I simply wouldn't have had the physical strength to pierce its natural armor. My blow, of course, didn't instantly kill such a tenacious spider, but the System-imbued weapon would, in another minute or two, independently rip the soul from its wounded body.
I moved about ten paces away from the felled warrior's carcass, pulled a new torch from my Bag of Holding. By the time I lit it and had a moment to collect myself, the arachnid had finally died. A skill card hovered in the air above its body. I took it, read the System properties, and my hands began to tremble.
I couldn't believe my eyes. But my stupor lasted no more than a couple of breaths. A wave of fear followed, because it wasn't over yet. Yes, I was lucky; the arachnid hadn't immediately understood the properties of the glass vial, which gave me a chance to escape. And when it finally gave chase, the thick suspension came into contact with the smoldering torch on the floor.
The only reason I had that vial in reserve was that it's only effective in confined spaces. You'd never get this kind of effect in an open field.
But none of that mattered. The sound of the explosion could draw all the spiders from the surrounding area. Not wanting to tempt fate any further, I yanked the spear from the arachnid warrior's body. A wave of energy passed through my body, making me stagger, and I barely managed to stay on my feet.
[Notice] You have gained 72 SP. (74/120)
Ignoring the steps, I bolted for the surface. I had a much better chance of escaping a chase there than being trapped in the manor's cellars. On the surface, I struggled but managed to climb onto a small ledge on the second floor of the ruined main building. From here, I had a good view of both the manor's entrance and the tunnel exit for the bugs. Most importantly, by hiding behind the remnants of the stone walls, those creatures wouldn't immediately notice me.
After a quick bite to eat and a drink from my flask, I let my body and mind recover slightly. Then, I pulled out the card and began to think about how to proceed. The card I now held was more intoxicating than strong wine, yet I was perfectly aware of the dire consequences that would await my soul if anyone found out about it.
Skill Card - Minor Deceit (1/3)
Rank E+
Description: Allows you to alter your System information, including your stats, skill list, and amount of free SP. The displayed level cannot exceed 10 units from your true value.
Saturation: 79/100 SP
On the one hand, concealing a dropped card, especially a Rank E one, would lead to a terrible punishment in the temple of the Great Anteros. Of course, only if the theft were discovered. The mere thought of it sent a chill of horror through my body.
Once in their lives, as teenagers, all goblins are led by the priests of the Great Anteros into the torture chambers so that every new subject knows just how monstrous the torture of the soul is.
On the other hand, I'm already 46. And once before, at 32, I put a stat point into Vitality when I realized that with a paltry three points in that attribute, I was rapidly aging. And now, history was repeating itself.
Yes, I still have 2 stat points in reserve. But that's not even the point.
Levels!
They don't let us raise them. No, scratch that—they don't let me raise levels. For a year of service, in addition to my regular pay, I'm given 10 SP for food and equipment. And no matter how much I saved or hoarded, over the 36 years since my coming of age, I'd only managed to collect enough System points to increase my level twice. And even then, a significant role in that was played by the rewards and bonuses from my centurion for courageous, and frankly, sometimes foolish and very dangerous acts—by goblin standards, of course—that led to the rescue of senior officers.
It would seem that a lot of SP should have accumulated over such a long period, but that's not the case at all. They let every single soldier reach Level 10 without any interference. This is done to improve the survival rate of our warriors in combat. For this very reason, by and large, they go to serve in the Lord's army. After all, if a soldier doesn't die during his ten-year contract and retires at Level 10, that goblin will be considered a rather wealthy citizen. Because reaching Level 10 requires absorbing 450 SP. For comparison, 1 SP is roughly equal to 100 gold coins. That's how much a regular soldier receives for a full year of service. And a field hand in a remote village might not only fail to accumulate a single gold coin in their entire life, but might never even see one.
Serving in the army is dangerous, and few live to see retirement, but all things being equal, the contract can be completed as early as twenty years old. And if your Vitality stat is at least 4 units, it's quite realistic to live to fifty. Such a veteran would have a long and carefree life ahead of them. But for me, all this has long been irrelevant.
Hesitating a bit more, I still couldn't find any compelling reasons against learning this skill, so I filled the card with the missing SP.
[Notice] Learn the skill Minor Deceit (100 SP)
Yes/No
(53/120)
The information rushed into my head in a sudden torrent. Images, methods of application, and general knowledge of how to use this System skill. To be honest, it was all quite straightforward, and I shouldn't have any difficulty using it. New columns of attributes, which would now be visible to the goblins around me, were added to my interface. Even a spontaneously gained level wouldn't be discovered by anyone, which was extremely convenient.
In the end, I was left with an unaccounted-for 53 SP. This would be enough to break through stat barriers. The main thing was not to make a mistake when depositing the SP, neither now nor in the future. Fortunately, the ability to use the new skill was now in my blood. I immediately removed my new acquisition from the list of displayed skills. Now, no matter who used Appraisal on me, no one would see that I had learned the Minor Deceit skill.
While I was getting acquainted with my new acquisition, two small arachnids, Levels 1 and 2, ran into the breach of the destroyed gates. I decided it was too dangerous to wait any longer; my squad might not wait for me and return to camp without me.
As I climbed over the stone fence of the manor, I noticed three more spiders on the street, hurrying toward the sound of the explosion. I managed to fire my bow three times and hit twice. After that, I sprinted with all my might toward my temporary camp.
"Arel, prepare yourselves!" I shouted so loudly my ears nearly rang. "Three spiders are right behind me!"
As I ran closer, an absolutely stunning sight opened up before me. Those pieces of spider dung had abandoned their posts and were all sitting in a circle around the campfire, eating. At my shout, they lazily turned their heads, not yet fully understanding who was giving them orders. At first, fury, almost physically, began to flare up inside me. But with an act of will, I stopped myself and said calmly,
"Arel and Rekel, upon our return to camp, you will be executed."
The soldiers jumped to their feet, and only now did it begin to dawn on them what they had gotten themselves into.
"Leur, get ready to raise a shield. A whole wave might be coming."
The first three spiders gave us time to rally. These creatures, as well as the next eight arachnids, were low-level, and we were able to deal with them using only our bows. And when Chikir returned after scouting around our manor and confirmed that no one else was an immediate threat, Arel fell to his knees, wailing that he was not at fault for anything.
"Master Irchin, forgive me, but Rekel said you were dead. We were just getting ready to go back to camp, that's why I took the warriors off their posts," he said quietly, probably because he didn't even believe himself as he spouted this nonsense.
Rekel didn't even lift his head; he was shaking slightly. He was only thinking about how he could have made such a mistake and given in to his fears. If Irchin the Malicious had survived and wasn't even wounded, then there was no danger for the two warriors at all. Now all he could do was hope for the centurion's mercy; Master Irchin wouldn't execute anyone himself. But that didn't mean the old decurion would forget the betrayal and not chop off a couple of fingers, or maybe even something worse.
Once all the experience was collected and the useful parts of the spiders' bodies were gutted and placed in my Bag of Holding, I led the squad back to the manor where I had encountered the arachnid warrior. He was certainly guarding something of value. It wasn't a coincidence that such a powerful warrior was in this specific manor.
Upon arriving, Leur, my combat mage, initially refused to go down. After all, aristocrats sometimes had a peculiar way of thinking. Perhaps he expected me to plead with him, maybe to threaten him, but instead he heard,
"Wizard, suit yourself, but you'll personally explain to Lurion Zhurek why we didn't retrieve the treasures from this cellar, and I'll describe the name and quantity to him in detail," and it was said so coldly and indifferently that he flinched. No matter how much mages exalted themselves, they were just as far from the rank and position of a Lurion as I was.
With Leur, who possessed the Rank F spell Light Orb, we were able to acquire incredible treasures in this manor by the end of the day. By our standards, of course. On the third level of the cellar, we found a clutch of nearly a hundred eggs, as well as a significant Rank E spear and its accompanying card. And all sorts of minor trinkets.
Upon returning to our Lurion's camp, Zhurek the Slippery, hearing the list of spoils in my Bags of Holding and taking a record of their contents, was so happy about our incredible luck that he constantly rubbed his hands in anticipation. As for me, he even promised to put in a good word for a double reward for this mission.
During the first inspection, there was, of course, some tension inside, but my face remained impassive and, as always, displeased. And, after all, I'm no longer at the age to get nervous even in such a situation. Over my years of service, I've been in situations far more dangerous than this.
That's why, when Lurion Zhurek used the Appraisal skill on me, checking the number of SP I had collected, I was almost completely confident of success. And in any case, it was no longer possible to reverse my choice. Yet not a single muscle twitched on his face, and the satisfied smile never left the shining face of the senior officer.
The skill Minor Deceit worked perfectly, preventing Zhurek from seeing my new acquisition and the hidden 51 SP that I had kept for myself after depositing the rest into the senior officer's experience storage.
Regarding the two, now-former, soldiers, we decided it very simply. They would remain with Zhurek's warriors under guard, awaiting the centurion's final personal decision. In place of the two discharged soldiers, the Lurion assigned me what were probably four of his most dispirited units. Low stats, very little combat experience, but at least these young goblins knew how to shoot bows, and that was something. But none of that worried me at all at the moment. I had begun to perceive everything around me with an icy calm, even more detached than before.
That night, I planned to spend the unaccounted-for SP. And at the mere thought of it, I felt like I was ten years younger.
[Notice] Do you wish to overcome the Perception stat barrier? (25 SP)
Success chance 94%, Death chance 3%
[Notice] Barrier overcome.
(26/120)
[Notice] Do you wish to overcome the Agility stat barrier? (25 SP)
Success chance 91%, Death chance 5%
[Notice]Barrier overcome.
(1/120)
The main thing was that now I could secretly invest my free points into these stats. Unlike Strength, where every increase makes you noticeably bulkier, these wouldn't be visible. I decided to distribute the free stat points after returning from the mission; I didn't see any urgent need to do it right now. I'd managed with these stat levels for the last few years. I think a couple of weeks would only help me make a more balanced and thoughtful decision.
True Name: Irchin
Status: Player
Epithet: the Malicious
Age: 46 years
Race: Goblin (91%)
Gender: Male
Level: 12 (1/120 SP)
Stats:
Strength: 5/5
Agility: 5/10
Intelligence: 7/10
Vitality: 4/5
Stamina: 5/5
Perception: 5/10
Luck: 4/5
Rank F Skills:
Sword Mastery: (2/5)
Shield Mastery: (1/5)
Spear Mastery: (1/5)
Bow Mastery: (2/5)
Rank E Skills:
Minor Deceit (1/3)
That night I couldn't fall asleep, instead repeatedly reviewing my stats. Looking at the list of skills, I pondered how far my true mastery of these weapons had gone beyond what the System displayed. Hundreds and thousands of fights over three decades in the Lord's army allowed me to achieve great results in the true art of combat. Only the low physical stats inherent to any goblin prevented me from fully realizing my mastery.
All night I couldn't get my thoughts in order, endlessly thinking about the opportunities that had opened up before me, as well as the difficulties that might follow.