[This chapter contains depictions of sexual violence, graphic violence, and death.]
I descended into the cavern in which these goblins hid, it was a spacious place, the sky was visible but almost every Dungeon so far featured the same plain ashen sky full of grey, sometimes it rained, sometimes it shone a warm light that fills you with a frigid cold, this time it was just… humid, as though there were sweaty bodies all over the muddy floor, erupting a foul presence.
Three goblin bodies and one ginormous hulking Hobgoblin lay scorched somewhere. Beneath that hobgoblin lay motionless a man, the rest of the full plate I saw right next to him. I don't even need to flip the hulking green mass's body to understand that this thing's balls lay over between the man's legs, suggesting that he was indiscriminately assaulted as well.
Hobgoblins were even worse than Goblins in the sense that they are exactly like them, but now grown up with not just the wicked childish creativity of a goblin, but with the full strength, experience, and intellectual decision-making of an actual adult person. Only shy away from an Orc, so to speak, in the sense that they still decide to live in-between the cracks and crevices of a Dungeon away from the light, as their sensitive vision and, in addition to their inverse circadian rhythms, result in creatures of the night that have the fullest capacity of a dangerous man.
I put my Inventory somewhere discreet and in a corner, close to the entrance of this spacious ravine extension of the Dungeon, and take out a set of binoculars, looking first around with my bare eyes for any familiar features and sights before using the binoculars to scout out small and distinct details.
I take a seat on my Delivery Box Backpack, containing loads of the far more bigger packages, it operates on an "Inventory" magic similar to my messenger bag, the only difference being is that it's far more larger, is pin-precise to my emotional state and thoughts; Instantly allowing me to extract delicate and large packages in an near instant in addition to being suffused by magic, tampering or damaging the Delivery Box Backpack was basically next to impossible to destroy with conventional non-magical means like trying to pry it open with a crowbar or blowing its hinges off with a gun, It's obviously expensive with very few successful Courier-Adventurers even given the pleasure of carrying it around, and so losing this thing would be the equivalent of losing my job, and in my 3-year streak, I was not going to have that.
Meticulous, I spot details some would've missed, such as a muddy stone floors which come to suggest that there is a rain cycle in this particular Dungeon, I knew that beforehand, which is why my messenger bag is filled to the brim with as much equipment that would be equivalent of 3-days of hiking alone and without any aid from people for this one expedition back and forth for deliveries.
The next being footprints, as the rainfall here trickles down the various earth of this ravine, it comes to allow the footprints of unknown creatures to reveal themselves to me. So far the small feet suggest goblins, big feet that suggest the hobgoblins and more so the soles of shoes that suggest two adventurers were just here, and both of them… accounted for, one back up on Earth and the other dead with a Hobgoblin's dick deeply puncturing the poor man's entrails, anyone would be mortified looking at someone's intestines rimming between dick larger than a torso and their already ruptured anus, but I've seen worse, and the torment of the Dungeons is nothing new.
Laid ahead was a long and simple stone bridge that ran alongside the ravine's gaping abyss like a spine, though ahead I saw more of those Hobgoblins from before, a bit bored as they played with themselves, and one unfortunate goblin becoming the object of their boredom. Monsters, indiscriminate, uncooperative, inhumane, and yet, despite that, they are incredibly powerful. Body physiologies that have the most insane of Chemists and Biologists descending these Dungeons as designated Scholar-Adventurers, and then… You get the point. Only a few actual returns, with successful findings that become debunked, rivalled, and even disproven due to the nature of the horrors most normal people are fed of Dungeons by social media and fictional media.
There were two of them, but even then, two Hobgoblins for me in the open is a risk, but I knew how to play. A choke point was more or less the ideal scenario for me.
I took out from my messenger bag a rather large bag of marbles, and spilled them across the floor, the sound of many rocks flow about was enough for them to catch on, Hobgoblins and goblins share one trait as members of the family, in which their night-accustomed senses are incredibly sharp, from their night vision to their heightened sense of hearing and smell, any small move would lead to them responding immediately as unlike humans, they are only accustomed to their Dungeon lairs, and thus the smell of freshly ironed clothes, the sound of jingling keys, and even something as simple a crackling bonfire for some chefs is enough to catch these things' attention.
I only had 12 seconds left, a prepared crossbow farther away, and by my Delivery Box, as I took out a short bow and strung an arrow to shoot one in the head. It lands straight in, fortunately, as they hadn't realized my position in time, hiding behind a small area of cover created by the bridge's stone walls, creating a corner from the open space close by the Dungeon's Goblin cave. The other one however notices soon and vaults over their companions body, but I rush away in time, and as they fail to notice a sea of marbles awaited their thick feet and they slide on their back, the sensation forcing them to stand upwards and with their slow attempt of getting back up I shoot the next one to its head as well, perfectly between the eyes, I was relaxing…
…before I was flung across the place and my vision began to blur, I made a mistake.