Goblins.
A type of small humanoid monster, standing about one meter tall, weighing roughly forty pounds.
Cunning, cruel, filthy, and lustful.
These vermin weren't individually strong. Their bodies were frail, their intelligence low, but their reproductive capacity was extremely powerful. With even slight neglect, they'd form wild goblin tribes in the wilderness.
When tribal scale expanded to a critical point, goblins could even spawn goblin shamans or even more powerful elite individuals to become the entire tribe's leaders.
Goblins in packs could pillage villages, capture villagers, even frontally destroy a city, throwing entire kingdoms into violent upheaval.
Orum's gaze rapidly swept across all the goblins before him. Ten total, clearly exceeding the number a solo adventurer could handle.
Moreover, Orum noticed half-orc Garr's current condition wasn't good. His body was sluggish and weak, looking extremely exhausted.
Orum instantly understood: this was the exhaustion aftereffect following a half-orc's "rage."
After a half-orc's "rage" state ended, they'd fall into an exhausted state, and until they'd thoroughly rested, rage couldn't activate again.
Add in the sneak attack that landed first, the arrow lodged in his right arm obstructing his tendons' power output.
Garr had immediately fallen into a desperate fight.
"Damn it!"
Excruciating pain from his calf being torn by a spiked club shot up to his brain. Garr's eyes turned blood red.
Half-orc Garr's weapon was a double-bladed axe, heavy and powerful. One chop could slaughter a goblin.
Plus his arm span far exceeded the goblins', his attack range held absolute advantage. He could completely crush individual goblins.
But these goblins employed rabid dog tactics. Nine melee goblins rushed his face. As Garr retreated while swinging, he could only kill one.
Not caring that their companion's brains were split open, the other goblins swarmed forward, tearing Garr's calves bloody.
Meanwhile, the crossbow-wielding goblin kept shooting arrows. Garr had no gap to dodge. Soon his chest took another arrow.
"Get away! Roar!"
An inhuman roar erupted. Garr had descended into complete madness, swinging with frenzied force, completely ignoring how many fangs and spiked clubs landed on his body. His vision entirely blood-red, he only focused on driving his thick arms, swinging one axe blow, then another!
Under Garr's suicidal exchange of wounds for lives, goblin casualties were heavy. Five more goblins were instantly chopped dead.
But this seemed to be his limit. The half-orc who'd killed six goblins collapsed to his knees, his left kneecap already shattered by goblins.
The three remaining goblins before him lunged forward, jamming spike-embedded clubs into his mouth. Immediately fresh blood and broken teeth sprayed from Garr's mouth as his body crashed heavily to the ground.
Three goblins maniacally surrounded half-orc Garr, viciously smashing his skull with spiked clubs, chewing his fingers with sharp teeth, tearing open his back with claws.
Beneath Garr's body, a crimson pool of blood immediately spread.
"Waaagh! Tasty!"
The crossbow goblin standing thirty feet away saw this scene. Its Adam's apple rolled violently, cloudy eyeballs fixated on that deep red blood. Its long tongue licked across its teeth, amber-colored viscous drool overflowing from its mouth, dripping along its jaw to the ground.
Just as the crossbow goblin was about to step forward to enjoy the half-orc sashimi, bone-chilling coldness suddenly shot up its back. Before it could turn its head, tearing agony already transmitted from its chest!
The goblin looked down in terror. A single-handed sword covered in minced flesh was piercing in from its back, the sword tip bursting through from the heart's position with dark red bloody foam, suspending its scrawny body in midair like skewered roast rat!
"Waaagh—"
The goblin instinctively wanted to scream, alert the other goblins, inform them of enemy attack information, but its throat was gripped tight by an iron-vice hand!
"Shh."
Orum, who'd silently stalked behind the goblin, softly issued a hushing murmur. Beneath his hood, the cold ruthlessness in his black eyes was bone-chilling.
His left hand gripped the goblin's throat in a death grip. No matter how desperately it struggled, it couldn't produce the slightest sound!
His right hand suddenly exerted force, twisting the sword hilt, thoroughly crushing the goblin's still-beating heart!
Heart shattered, this vermin's life force rapidly drained like a punctured bellows. The goblin's limbs instantly went limp.
Orum's wrist rotated, withdrawing the blood-soaked longsword. The goblin's corpse smashed to the ground with a dull "thump," then no further sound.
[You have killed 1 Goblin]
[Stage reward available: Goblin Monster Organ]
A semi-transparent interface abruptly materialized before Orum's eyes.
Orum raised his head, glancing at the three goblins still surrounding Garr's corpse. Like deaf-blind creatures, they had zero awareness of the crossbow goblin's death.
"Claim." Orum took a deep breath, silently reciting in his heart.
The instant his words fell, four streams of scorching heat suddenly surged up from deep within his limbs and body! Like living things, they rushed along blood vessels toward the muscle groups of both arms and legs. Wherever they passed, muscle fibers were torn apart countless times, then reassembled countless times, each rebirth stronger than before.
Orum could even clearly feel that although not obviously visible on the surface, the newly formed muscle fibers were thicker and more substantial than before. Each contraction carried unprecedented tension.
In just a few seconds, that tearing burning pain receded, replaced by surging power filling his limbs. Orum could clearly sense his current explosive power was more than double what it was before!
If calculated in detail, it roughly equaled each of Orum's limbs gaining the strength of one goblin out of thin air!
[You have obtained Monster Organ: Goblin Tendons]
[Next stage reward:]
[Kill 10 Goblins, obtain Goblin Monster Organ advancement]
"The next stage reward is ten?"
Orum raised the single-handed sword, silently approaching the three goblins from behind.
Ice-cold killing intent crawled up his spine throughout his body. Orum's hands crossed, gripping the sword hilt, suddenly pushing off the ground.
The instant the three goblins simultaneously turned their heads, left hand pushed forward, right hand pulled back. The sword tip carved out a silvery arc of light, slashing straight down from upper right to lower left.
This sword technique had no finesse whatsoever, purely muscular violence. His tendon-bulging arms like cast-steel levers drove this strike with tremendous explosive power. The blade cutting through air emitted a piercing shriek, entering the first goblin's right skull, brittle bone's muffled crack mixed with brain matter splattering sounds exploding. Immediately following, the second and third goblins' necks were cleanly severed, two round heads spinning upward with terrified expressions.
The sword's tremendous force poured out in an instant, blood droplets mixed with brain matter splashing like rain.
Three spurting short corpses fell together. These disgusting monsters didn't even have time to scream before dying simultaneously under this brutal sword strike.
...
Sword sheathed, standing still.
The scene before him left Orum momentarily dazed.
In his past life, he hadn't even killed a chicken, yet right after transmigrating, he'd personally killed several goblins with his own hands.
He'd originally thought taking humanoid creatures' lives would make him feel nauseated, heart palpitations.
But quite the opposite. Orum reached up to wipe the warm blood stains from his face. The viscous sensation against his fingertips was clearly distinguishable, yet his heart remained calm without a ripple, as if merely brushing away an oil stain splashed during a meal.
"When in Rome, do as the Romans do. Also a good thing." Orum only considered for a few seconds before putting this matter aside in his heart.
Orum had never been an indecisive person. Moreover, the crisis was far from resolved.
Half-orc Garr had died isolated and miserably at goblin hands. Dorian and the other three were still alive, possibly appearing at any moment.
After brief consideration, Orum decided to search Garr's corpse and take his belt pouch.
Also that half-orc's double-bladed axe. Because it was too heavy, the previous Orum couldn't lift it, but the current Orum had gained four goblins' worth of strength, just enough to wield this great axe.
As for that single-handed sword, after cleaving through several goblins' bones, it had severely warped and curled, completely ruined.
Orum looked at this single-handed sword, feeling somewhat wistful inside.
After all, reality wasn't a game. Weapons had durability. An ordinary basic weapon, no matter how well maintained, after chopping through seven or eight goblin's bones, would also be ruined.
Orum had previously read records that some medieval soldiers' iron swords, after continuously slashing armor or bone, needed to be straightened on the spot by stepping on them before continuing use.
By comparison, heavy weapons like hammers and axes had durability advantages. More durable.
Half-orc Garr's great axe was wrought iron clad steel material, not rusted, weighing nine kilograms. The axe body's back had a raised axe ridge, the sides opened with two shallow blood grooves.
The 100-centimeter axe handle was made of hardwood, the end near the axe head about 5 centimeters in diameter, gradually narrowing toward the far end to 3 centimeters. This design both ensured strength at the axe head connection and reduced overall weight. The handle's surface was sanded smooth then coated with beeswax, the touch as warm and smooth as stroking some living creature's skin.
"Good axe. Mine now." Orum hefted the great axe, very satisfied, reaching again toward Garr's waist.
However, just then, Garr's corpse suddenly convulsed, startling Orum.
Half-orc Garr opened eyes crusted with filthy blood, struggling to spit out two words from his fang-filled mouth:
"Save... me..."
Orum: "Huh?!"