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Goblin Chapter 221: Demon Spawn!
🕑 Added 2025-09-04 01:02:46 +0000 UTCTime slipped by.
Over the next few days, Gauss and the others first saw Andeni off. Watching her disappear at the end of the road, he felt a pangâwho knew when theyâd cross paths again.
On the fourth day, Gauss finally received Solin the dwarfâs call to depart. The two teams met up, left Lincrown, and set out along their planned route toward the ruin.
Their mounts were standard northern stocky cobsâshoulders barely four feet high, but thick-legged with broad hooves, ideal for carrying weight through woods and rough ground.
On Solinâs saddle hung several small skins that thumped softly as the horse walkedâhe drank often, and had tried to âsellâ it to Gauss. One whiff of the stuffâstraight up the skullâand Gauss declined. He stuck to very weak fruit wine, which barely qualified as wine, and even then, never outside town. Clear head first.
The ruin lay some distance from Lincrown. The ad-hoc party would hug the edge of the Jade Forest for two to three days before taking an entrance inward. No one was in a hurry.
Around noon a hot gust flattened the grass along the wild path; late-spring green rolled like waves. A bristled boar snorted out of the brushâtight-muscled, short-tusked, rootling for fat tubers, lifting its head now and then to check for hunters.
Once it saw nothing amiss, it dropped its snout againâ
Fwish!!
Heat snapped in the air; a slash of red. The boar twitchedâthen a flaming shaft passed through both ears and out the skull, the heat snatching life in an instant.
âNot bad, Gauss,â Solin called, ambling up and perking right up at the kill. He grabbed the boar by the scruff, ignoring the bristles, and lifted it easily. âAbout 150 poundsâtwo daysâ worth. Why not the bigger one? That one looked 400 at least.â
âEnough is enough,â Gauss said. âHarder to keep; you get sick of it; then itâs just waste.â
âFair point.â Solin slung the near-boarânearly his own sizeâover one shoulder like a rag. Dwarves are strong by natureâmore so a Level 5 fighter. Ten times the weight wouldnât have fazed him.
âLetâs find a stream, gut it, and eat. Iâm hungry.â
Echo wheeled overhead and quickly found a brook. They cleared a patch. Gauss reached for his skinning knifeâbut Solin was already working. He bled, skinned, and dressed the boar with swift, precise cuts.
He glanced at the knife in Gaussâs hand; they shared the same lookâthe nod of one camp cook to another. Most parties have one. Itâs not a âsideâ job; food feeds morale. A good cook makes the road lighter and the spirits higher. Itâs why, though they took turns, Gauss often took lead or chipped inâhis knife was the best among his trio.
Solin was clearly his partyâs cookâand an artist. He sorted and set the cuts, then shook a few small pouches of ground spice with pride. âWe dwarves donât just forge steelâwe live well.â
Soon they had water, a fire, and greens and herbs plucked. The smell rose. Even Gauss had to admit it: next to Solin he felt like a tinkerer. He swallowedâthen kept helping.
âHow about itâdidnât brag,â Solin preened.
âYou could run a tavern,â Gauss said, giving him a thumbs-up.
âDamn right.â
The ingredients were simple, but under Solinâs hand they sang: stew, skewers, crackling spiced skin. His blends drew out the boarâs sweetness and banished the funkânothing but savory in the mouth. He drank from his great cup and ate with gusto; the others followed suit. Gauss most of all.
âDidnât peg you for a big eaterâmanly,â Solin said, rubbing his swollen belly and watching Gauss still going. Heâd thought his appetite unmatchedâthen a caster out-ate him. Odd.
Even Nancy and Elton, usually composed, gave Gauss another lookâhis outline sharpening in their minds: a mysterious male caster who could turn draconic and put food away.
Fed and happy, they moved on. Food is the best social grease; one cookout tightened bonds. Solin even drew out Serandur and Aliaâswapping stories of class, hometowns, and team-building.
They followed the forestâs edge; afternoon sun stretched their shadows long.
â
Clack-clack-clack.
Scattered hoofbeats grew clearer in the dusk. Six riders approached. âMade it before dark,â Nancy said, reining in as the village emerged. âLetâs ask the headman for a houseâpay to rent a room.â
âRight,â Gauss said, glancing at the run-down cluster. No inn here.
They took the dirt lane in. Hooves raised powder off cracked earth. Dead fields on both sides lay to weed; what few rows remained drooped, untended. Broken tools lay abandoned; wood swollen and rotting.
The closer they came, the more the decay pressed in: low mud-brick huts sagging together, walls split with ugly cracks, a warped sign over the gate with the name worn away. Too quietâno evening cluck and bark, no childrenâs laughter. Only the moan of the wind made your skin crawl.
Their arrival broke the hush. Filthy rags twitched up over windows; shadows moved; eyes peered out at the dust-caked, well-armed strangers. No one came to greet them.
âFeels⌠off,â Solin muttered, rubbing the back of his head and taking a firmer grip on his hammer. Even his cob snorted, pawing the ground.
It had been obvious before they enteredâfields neglected, tools left to rotânothing a normal, if poor, village should show.
Elton traced a sign and frowned, shaking his head subtly. âNothing⌠at the moment.â
As they paused in the middle, a sturdier hut door creaked openâlikely the headmanâs. A thin, stooped elder in patched coarse linen shuffled out, face a map of wrinkles, eyes cloudy. He leaned on a stick and peered at each horse and faceâlingering on Solinâs bright armor, Nancyâs staff, Eltonâs holy symbol, Gaussâs and the othersâ weaponsâthen rasped like a torn bellows:
âStrangers⌠where from? What business in our Rollingstone Village?â
Not friendlyâtinged with something like⌠rejection.
âSir, weâre adventurers from Lincrown. Itâs late; is there an empty house we can rent for a night? Weâll pay.â Poor welcome or not, he was the first to speak; Gauss stepped up. Information first. Whether theyâd actually stay hereâtheyâd talk it through. It was late; wild camping wasnât ideal.
âSorry. Rollingstone doesnât⌠welcome outsiders. No spare houses. Best be on your way.â Clean, hard refusalâalmost inhumanly so. Night was falling and he wanted them gone.
Solinâs brows knotted. âHey, old man! Weâll pay! Where do you expect us to sleepâfeed wolves?â
The elder flinched at the dwarfâs roar, stepped back, but shook his head. âNo⌠is no. Money⌠no use. Goâbefore itâs fully darkâŚâ
At the end, a plea leaked in.
âAre there sick folk?â Eltonâs voice cut through the mounting dismissal. He didnât look at the elder; he looked toward the broken homes. âMore than one?â Not a questionâstated.
The old man jolted; fear and distrust flashed in his eyes. He clutched his stick hard. âD-donât talk nonsense!â
Elton stepped forward and raised his holy symbol; soft white light lapped outwardâcalm, easing the heart. âPlease donât be afraid. I am a cleric, servant of Light. Perhaps⌠let me see them? Even if I canât cure, the Light can ease their pain.â
The elder looked from the glow to Eltonâs gentle face; resistance slackened a shadeâthen he glanced aside and turned to stone again. âPlease, leave Rollingstone.â
The six looked at each other. Solin rubbed his head and nodded. âLetâs back off for now.â
Under the villageâs guarded eyes, they moved along the lane. Not far out, Solin halted them. âHe was⌠afraid of us,â Gauss said.
âMonsters? Or folk twisted by them?â Solin asked Nancy. She shook her head. âJust ordinary people.â
Serandur had been frowning, thinking. Gauss turned to him. âAny leads?â
âFeels familiar. Let me⌠think,â Serandur murmured.
Solin hopped down and set his fists on his hips. âWe camp here,â he said. âHere? Maybe farther is better,â Gauss asked. They were close to the village still.
Solin scratched the back of his head. âHere. No wolves or big cats near a village. Safer.â
Safer⌠sure. Gauss bit back the quip. Solin wasnât blind; if he chose to stay, he had his reasons.
They cleared a patch outside the village, lit a fire, pitched tents. As Solin cooked, smoke and good smells drifted on the evening breeze. The menu matched noon, with a few greens added.
Gauss ate happilyâwondering if the next recruit should be chosen for cooking.
They were halfway through when a slim figure flickered out of the fireâs shadow. A woman of about twenty in a washed-thin, patched dress, slight enough to blow over, face pale, lips bloodlessâeyes big and fixed on the food.
Her appearance was so abrupt Solin nearly sprayed his drink. Nancy had seen her first and edged closer to Gauss.
âCan you spare a little?â the woman askedâand flicked her tongue. It was long, thin, not quite human; and her skin⌠was starting to slough and rot. Gauss weighed herâthen reached for a skewer and held it out.
As his hand nearedâBang!!
Her skin split like a thousand tiny claws ripped from within. A slick, gray-black, furred claw lashed for his face.
Ting!!
A steel sword flashed to meet it; sparks jumped. The woman skittered back. Her body twisted into something that shouldnât be possibleâlong, arched, on all fours, a spinal crackle of bone. The others had her ringed already.
The change hadnât stopped. Her face warped, mouth tearing to the ear, pink muscle bared, belching a wave of black filth. Her big eyes went ink-black, needle-red malice burning within.
âDemon-spawn,â Nancy warned. Even as she said it, the change finished. The human veil shredded; a man-sized horror loomedâskin crawling with live, knotting rats and rotting fur.
A bloated trunk, limbs turned into long rat-forelegs with hooked talons, a great barbed tail woven from knotted rat-tails cracked the ground. A huge rat muzzle opened and shut, spewing green vaporsâthrough which a forest of tiny fangs glinted.
Gaussâs scalp prickled; gut revolt surgedânatural human disgust. He couldnât help thinking of his and Aliaâs first jobâratmen in a ruined chapelâand the old ratman whoâd thrown himself into a poison pool. Vespeteria, heâd said. Three days later Gauss had had a rare nightmare.
So youâve come chasing that?
Across the fire, Solin, Nancy, and Elton traded a lookâwere the threads tied?
Mind-links flashed:
[Sure enoughâstart purging, and trouble finds us.]
[Make it quick.]
[Theyâll be confused.]
Decision made, Solin raised shield and hammer and strode for the rat-fiend, each step punching divots in the earth.
âRrraaah!!â he roaredâdwarf bulk wrapped in a cannonâs worth of furyâand crashed in. The hammer drew a burning arc under moonlight and fell on the monsterâs skull. It raked up a taloned forelimb to block. The blow was so heavy the air seemed pressed thin; hammer and pressure slammed down.
Thud!!
The limb broke; the diminished force fell on its headâcrackâgreen pus and bone fragments burst; the skull dented, hammered into the trunk.
It still didnât die. It shrieked, rage and pain, and its other claw swept for Solinâs head. His tower shield snapped upâScreee!! Talons sparked, a golden glow welled over the shieldâs face, and the hit failed to breach the mountain-solid defense.
Gauss leapt in to roll the wheel. Solinâs strike had shocked himâheâd almost thought it done. He triggered Ironscale; scales climbed his skin with each step, his right hand closed on air, and a dragon-claw formedâmana fused with bloodline.
The others, especially Solin, Nancy, and Elton, watched with wide eyes. The demon-spawn wasnât beyond themâSolin alone could handle itâbut this was a fine time to gauge Gauss. They could cover him if needed.
Gauss didnât know their calculus. He had a simpler one: Solin had half-crushed itâtime to finish. And Solin had been knocked backâfrontline duty shifted to him. He exploded off the lineâ[Brute Force] and [Enhanced Leap] firing, Ironscale pushing his stats higher; no heavy armor to slow himâhe was fast. A blur edged in blue shot through the dark.
He closedâright arm corded, scales locked, claw humming. He raised it high and brought it down with ten points of raw STR, plus Brute Forceâ
BOOM.
The claw hit the fiendâs chest; the impact boomed deeper than Solinâs hammer. The rat-fiend went off like a bomb planted inside: skull shards, rotted fluids, pus, and a spray of mouse-sized lumps launched in a ring. The blast threw it backâbut a black haze rolled, and the ruined body steadied.
In the mind-link, Nancy piped: [Solin, looks like he hits harder than you.]
[Ha⌠haâare you serious? Iâm a dwarf warrior!]
[Heâs barehanded. Youâve got top-tier kit. And he smashed it worse.]
Two arrows in Solinâs pride. He liked Gaussâbut that stung. [I didnât go all out.]
[Sure you didnât.] She knew he hadnâtâshe also knew what sheâd just seen. It was hard to believe the man in front of her was a Level 3 caster. If he got to her in tight? She doubted sheâd have it easy.
Solin hefted his hammer to finish itâwhen the fight wrapped itself. Feeling the fiendâs obscene vitality, Gauss chose to end it in one go. Another pile driver punch blew a deep hole in its chest.
He clenched the white staff in his left hand.
Between the dragonâs five fingers, blue light compressedâ
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud!
Five Magic Missiles burst from the claw and plunged into the holeâand detonated. The gap widened, the blast wave bled by the thingâs flesh and stopped cold against Gaussâs now-solid ward.
âSqueee!!â
It screamed, black mist shrouding it againâbut he didnât give it time. His fist clenched; the claw hardened. A second blowâthen a thirdâthen a fourthâeach set off another detonation insideâ
Until the fourthâWHUMPâa final, destroying blast. The body couldnât hold together; it burst outward, showering the ground with stinking meat and slime. The stench rolled heavy. The chunks smoked and dissolved into the air.
Gauss stood, scales heaving on his chestâand waited. The text flashed:
[Plague-Rat Demon-Spawn Slain Ă1]
[Elite Points +10]
Same title as the ratmen before. So this âplague-rat demon-spawnâ was of a piece with those things? It had come for him because of that old job?
He frowned. A strange energy slid up through his foot while he wasnât looking. The egg inside him trembled; he shook loose of thought. âWhat now, egg?â he muttered.
Around them, the camp fell stillâonly the fire popped. Solin, halfway to proving himself, stopped and scowledâGauss had ended it in fewer breaths than heâd thought possible. Sometimes having a teammate too strong wasnât that fun.
Nancy tilted her head; the cool distance in her eyes was goneâreplaced by a look that said she was reevaluating him. It wasnât that heâd beaten the spawnâit was how: the easy braid of magic and brute force.
The way he slipped between melee and spell; the way his ward ate raw blast; how mana lay down in his hand like a lamb.
What was this monster?
