Don crouched on the thick branch, seventy meters above the forest floor, his yellow eye scanning the camp below with cold precision.
Six hundred goblins. Maybe more.
[Oh, look at them, little seed! So many little GREEN toys waiting to be BROKEN!]
The camp sprawled across a clearing where the Veiled Shadowfen's twisted trees had been deliberately cleared—hacked down, burned, their stumps ground into the moss to create open space.
Crude wooden stakes formed a perimeter, sharpened points facing outward.
Watchtowers constructed from lashed bones and scavenged wood rose at irregular intervals, each manned by goblin sentries with bows and crude spears.
Cooking fires burned throughout the camp—dozens of them, their flames that same sickly green color. The smoke rose in thick columns, carrying the stench of burning meat and something chemical. Toxic.
Tents clustered in organized sections—warrior barracks near the perimeter, shaman quarters closer to the center, and at the camp's heart, a larger structure constructed entirely from bones, hides, and what looked disturbingly like stretched human skin.
Don activated Analyze, pushing the skill to its maximum range.
[SKILL: ANALYZE ACTIVATED]
[ANALYZING CAMP STRUCTURE…]
[GOBLIN WARRIORS: ~480]
[GOBLIN SHAMANS: ~80]
[ELITE UNITS: ~40]
[LEADERSHIP: 2 DETECTED]
[MANA COST: FREE (GREENSKIN HUNTER ACTIVE)]
Two leaders. Don's enhanced vision focused on the command pavilion.
The first figure was immediately obvious—a goblin that stood apart from the others in both size and presence. Thin, almost skeletal, its body covered in pustules that wept a constant stream of toxic fluid. The creature's skin was a sickly green that shimmered with an oily sheen, and where it walked, the moss blackened and died.
General Vex the Poisoner.
Don recognized him instantly from the visions the Abyss had burned into his mind.
The memory was crystal clear—Vex during the Fall of Valdris, releasing plague-bearing insects that turned entire districts into charnel houses. Vex whispering to captured humans, his toxic words making their ears bleed before their minds shattered.
The General moved with an odd, twitching gait, as if his own toxins were eating away at his muscles even as they regenerated. His eyes were completely white—no pupils, no iris, just milk-white orbs that somehow still tracked movement.
In his gnarled hands, he carried a staff topped with a crystal vial that glowed with sickly purple light. The plague inside it seemed almost alive, writhing and pulsing.
Don focused his Analyze skill directly on the General.
[SKILL: ANALYZE ACTIVATED]
[TARGET: GENERAL VEX THE POISONER]
[ANALYZING…]
[GENERAL VEX]
Stage: 2 - Crucible of Essence
Level of cultivation : 2 (out of 6)
Level: 14
Threat Level: EXTREME
Specialization: Toxins, Disease, Corruption
Abilities Detected:
• Toxic Aura (Passive): Constant poison damage in 15-meter radius
• Plague Mastery: Commands disease-bearing creatures
• Poison Whisper: Toxic words cause physical damage and mental corruption
• Rot Touch: Instant flesh decay on contact
• Poison Immunity: Cannot be harmed by any toxin
• Essence Control (Stage 2): Can manipulate 15-meter radius around self. All poisons in area under absolute control.
Weakness:
• Physically frail (Vitality: 89)
• Magic-dependent (vulnerable if staff destroyed)
• Arrogant (underestimates non-poison users)
• Blind (relies on poison-sense to "see")
Stats Detected:
• Strength: 67
• Agility: 78
• Vitality: 89
• Wisdom: 156
• Magic Power: 178
• Intelligence: 134
Note: Subject has survived 184 years through constant self-experimentation. Body is simultaneously dying and regenerating. Iron Will Foundation: "The Eternal Decay" (sacrificed sense of touch to gain poison mastery).
[MANA: FREE]
[Stage 2, Level 2! Four cultivation levels above you, little seed! That Essence Control… getting close would be SUICIDE!]
Don's mind processed the information. Level 14 versus his Level 10.
Four levels wasn't insurmountable, but combined with the stage difference and that 15-meter kill-zone? Direct combat was out of the question.
His attention shifted to the second leader—a larger goblin standing near Vex, clearly subordinate but commanding respect.
[SKILL: ANALYZE ACTIVATED]
[TARGET: UNKNOWN GOBLIN SHAMAN]
[ANALYZING…]
[CAMP COMMANDER: VROKSH THE BILE-BLOODED]
Stage: 1 - Iron Will
Level: 6 (out of 6 - PEAK)
Cultivation Level: 6
Threat Level: High
Specialization: Poison Magic, Command
Abilities Detected:
• Bile Spit: Ranged acid attack (10-meter range)
• Poison Cloud: Area denial (20-meter radius)
• Command Aura: Increases nearby goblin coordination
• Toxic Resilience: 90% poison resistance
• Staff Mastery: Enhanced spell channeling
Iron Will Foundation: "The Bitter Oath" (sacrificed taste to gain poison immunity)
Stats Detected:
• Strength: 89
• Agility: 67
• Vitality: 78
• Wisdom: 98
• Magic Power: 102
• Intelligence: 87
Personality Analysis:
• Loyal to Vex (fanatically)
• Cruel but pragmatic
• Tactical mind, understands siege warfare
Appearance:
Vroksh stood roughly five feet tall with a stocky, muscular build. His face was flat and brutal, dominated by a wide mouth filled with yellowed teeth that constantly leaked bile. His eyes were muddy yellow-brown, intelligent and watchful.
His hands were stained permanent black-green from handling toxins, fingernails filed to points and coated with venom. He wore a necklace of small vials—maybe thirty of them—each containing different colored poisons.
[MANA: FREE]
Don filed away the information and continued observing.
The camp's layout was clear now. Warriors in outer sections, organized into companies of fifty to a hundred. Shamans in the middle ring, their tents marked by skull totems. Elite units formed a guard ring around Vex's pavilion.
Food storage—three large pits covered with hides, guarded by sentries. Each maybe ten meters across, filled with dried meat, preserved fungi, stolen grain.
Weapon racks near each warrior section. Shaman brewing stations. A stream cutting through one edge providing water.
Don's mind worked through possibilities.
Direct assault? Suicide. Six hundred goblins, a Stage 2 General, a Peak Stage 1 commander.
Assassinate Vex directly? Nearly impossible. Forty elite guards, Vroksh, then the 15-meter death zone.
Poison them? Useless. They were already poison-resistant.
Siege? He was one person.
Which left breaking them from the inside.
[You're thinking something CRUEL, aren't you, little seed?]
Don's lips curved slightly.
They were organized. Disciplined. Two hundred years of structure and hierarchy. That was their strength.
It would also be their weakness.
Destroy the food. Burn the shelters. Eliminate hunting parties. Deny them sleep. Make them desperate, hungry, exhausted. Watch discipline collapse into chaos.
Then strike.
Simple. Efficient.
Don opened his eyes as the crimson light deepened toward night. Perfect.
He descended from the tree, seventy meters in thirty seconds, completely silent. His enhanced stats made it trivial.
Don began circling the camp, staying well outside sentry range.
His pathetic Sense of 5 was compensated by his other attributes—he could hear patrols long before they detected him, could move so fast and silent that even direct observation wouldn't catch him.
He found position downwind, two hundred meters from the nearest food pit. Close enough. Far enough to escape.
Don raised his right hand, focusing on Elemental Manipulation.
Fire.
Heat gathered in his palm—not black Nexus energy, but actual flame. Orange-red, flickering, hungry. It responded to his will, eager.
He shaped it carefully. Not a weapon. A projectile. A sphere of compressed fire, roughly fist-sized. The mana cost registered—30 points—manageable.
[SKILL: ELEMENTAL MANIPULATION ACTIVATED]
[ELEMENT: FIRE]
[MANA COST: 30]
[CREATING: FIRE SPHERE]
The sphere pulsed in his hand, radiating heat but not burning him. His Nexus talent made him resistant to his own constructs.
Don calculated trajectory, wind, distance. His Intelligence made the math instant.
He threw.