Chapter 13 – Chance Encounter
Chapter 13
Chance Encounter
Date : Unknown (36th day of the Journey)
Hyoren prepared for the hardest fight of his life. Fifteen goblins. Four Fighters. Ten normal. One unknown variant. The prisoner in the sack. The odds stacked against him.
"I need to plan this well. But quick. Their movement is slow, but they're still moving. Maybe towards their base. I need to ambush them before they reach it."
If the warband reached a goblin settlement, the prisoners would be lost. He couldn't follow them into a nest. He couldn't fight dozens more goblins.
This was his only chance. He checked his weapons.
"Horned-rabbit spear."
He ran his fingers along the tip and the shaft—sharp and no crack
.
"Good condition."
He counted the flint daggers tucked into his belt. Four of them. Each one sharpened to a fine edge. He'd used them countless times against goblins.
"Flint throwing daggers. Four secured on my belt. All sharp."
He then rummage his bag. And bring out the water skin. His trump card.
“Time to use this nectar. A sip of this will make me stronger for about ten minutes. And it stacked with my own enhancement through magic manipulation skill.”
He then rushed towards the direction goblins go and overtaking them. He found good ambush point. A small ridge on one side, and fallen massive log of ironwood. The trail is in the middle. Towards small clearing for easy movement after ambush.
“This is good location. Time to prepare.”
He raised the waterskin to his lips and took a measured sip. The power spread through his body—muscles tightening, senses sharpening, energy surging.
He quickly secured the waterskin and set his bag aside. He didn't want to be dragged down by extra weight. The healing grass, the dried meat, the magic stones—none of it would matter if he died.
With two of his flint dagger on his right hand and spear in his left hand. He wait behind the dead log.
He heard them approaching. The snarls. The footsteps. The muffled cries from the sacks. The warband was getting closer.
He steadied his breathing.
The first goblins passed his position. Then more. The Fighters with their rusted swords. The normal goblins with their crude clubs. The five which carrying the struggling sack together.
He counted them as they passed. The last goblin walked by, oblivious to his presence.
The goblin warband passing. And as the last goblin passing the ambush point. He moved.
Two flint daggers flew from his hand. They spun through the air and found their marks—the last two goblins in the formation. The blades buried themselves in skulls. The bodies dropped with twin thuds.
He grabbed another dagger from his belt. This one he threw at the one of the goblins carrying the sack. The blade caught one of them in the throat. It slumped.
The sack need five goblin to carry, and now one of them died, the four goblin cant carry the weight and the sack dropped into the ground.
The goblin warband finally realized what happening and erupted into chaos.
The goblins turned, snarling in confusion. The formation collapsed.
He gripped his spear with both hands and aimed at the nearest Goblin Fighter—the one swinging its rusty sword toward him.
“Piercing Thrust.”
His spear glowing, he instantly jumped for three meters. The spearhead punched through the Fighter's chest, gouging a hole. The creature collapsed without a sound.
Eleven remaining.
The goblins finally registered the attack. They snarled and charged, weapons raised. The chaos of surprise faded into rage.
He planted his feet, feeling the power of the nectar coursing through him. But he needed more.
"Can't be stingy here."
He reached into his magic core. The core responded to his call. He channeled the magic through his body, letting it spread, enveloping him in a protective layer.
The nectar and his own enhancement combined.
The first goblin reached him—a Fighter with a rusted sword raised high. It swung at him.
He parried with his spear shaft, catching the blade and locking their weapons together. Another goblin circled behind him and smashed its club into his back.
The impact was dull. Painful. But he didn't flinch.
"Tch... annoying..."
The nectar enhance his power and speed. And magic manipulation spread his magic to his whole body absorbed the blow. It hurt, but it didn't wound. Not seriously.
He kick the fighter in front of him. Reverse his grip on spear, and without turning around, aiming at the goblin on his back. He use his spear butt end to crush the goblin eyes and the brain behind it
Not bother to check. He thrust his spear to staggered goblin fighter chest.
He yanked his spear open. And scan his surrounding.
“Now that’s nine left.”
The remaining goblins had formed a circle around him. They cut off any path to escape.
But he wasn't afraid. He settled into his spear stance.
“Piercing Thrust!”
The kinetic energy propelled him forward. He shot across the clearing, his spear aimed at another Goblin Fighter in the back of the circle. The creature's chest gouged.
He yanked his spear free. Before he could turn, a club crashed into his head.
“Ouch...”
The magic enveloping his body protected him from serious damage. The blow would have cracked a normal skull. Instead, it just hurt like hell.
He gritted his teeth through the pain. Pivoted. Drove his spear butt into the attacker's knee. The joint shattered. The goblin collapsed.
A quick swing of his spear blade create deep gash on its throat.
He jumped back, creating space. His eyes found the towering figure at the back of the clearing.
The new variant.
It stood apart from the chaos, watching. Its real short sword gleamed in the light. Its eyes tracked every movement, analyzing, calculating.
He act like a boss.
The creature hadn't moved since the battle began. It simply observed, occasionally barking orders to its minions.
Hyoren pushed the thought aside. He couldn't focus on the boss yet. He had to clear the small fry first.
He launched himself back into the fray.
A Goblin Fighter charged him. He parried its sword with his spear shaft, but the angle was wrong. The blade scraped along his right arm, drawing blood.
“Fuck!”
Retaliating, he kick its abdomen. The goblin fighter staggered, loosing its balance and stumble into the ground.
He ignored it for the moment. Spun around. Slashed the throat of two goblins behind him in a single motion. They fell, clutching their necks.
Without waiting, he lunged at the downed Fighter. His spear tip sank into its heart.
With barrel roll to avoid two goblins attack, he jumped to get some distance.
“Four more goblins. I need to kill them fast before the Warrior make a move.”
He aimed his spear to nearest goblin again.
“Piercing Thrust!”
The gap shortened instantly. His spear impaled the creature through the chest.
A quick swing to his left. His spear blade caught another goblin across the throat. It fell gurgling.
He didn't waste time. He roared and slammed his spear butt into the skull of a goblin on his right. The head caved in like a melon.
And then—finally—the Goblin Warrior snapped from its trance.
It roared, a deep sound that shook the clearing. Its short sword flashed as it stepped forward, ready to join the fight.
But it was too late.
Hyoren's spear tip was already finding its mark. The last normal goblin's heart burst, and its body fell.
The clearing fell silent.
Hyoren took a deep breath. His body was still fueled by adrenaline not feel the wounds accumulating across his body.
Corpses littered the ground around him. Fourteen goblins. Four Fighters. Ten normal. All dead.
With a quick swing, he flicked the blood from his spear head.
He assessed himself. His magic manipulation had protected him from the weak blows.
“A lot of wound. But none is deadly. I need to focus.”
The Goblin Warrior stood alone now. Its minions were dead. Its sword was raised. Its eyes fixed on him.
Hyoren tightened his grip on his spear and faced the creature. It was time for a duel.
***
Hyoren didn't wait.
He needed to seize the initiative. Every second counted. The nectar and magic enhancement is not unlimited. His wounds were accumulating. He couldn't afford a prolonged fight.
He lunged forward, his spear aimed at the Goblin Warrior's chest. The creature's eyes tracked the movement.
At the last moment, the Warrior's short sword flashed up. Metal met horn tip with a sharp clank. The deflection was precise—minimal movement.
The Warrior counterattacked instantly. Its sword swung in arc toward his neck.
He jumped back, the blade cutting through the air where his throat had been. The wind of its passage brushed his skin.
"This goblin is a different breed."
He caught his breath, resetting his stance.
"It knows how to fight properly."
The Warrior didn't give him time to recover. It pressed forward, its short sword swing with quick motion.
It slashed. He parried. The impact jarred his arms.
He countered with a side swing. The Warrior ducked under the blade and jumped backward, creating distance.
They faced each other. Both breathing hard. Both sizing up their opponent.
Hyoren used his reach to his advantage, keeping the Warrior at a distance with thrusts and feints. The spear was longer than the short sword. If he could keep the creature outside its range, he had the advantage.
But the Warrior was fast.
It sidestepped his thrusts with ease, moving around the spear tip. When he overextended, it counterattacked—a slash here, a lunge there. Each one forced him to dodge or parry.
Its burst of power was also high. When it committed to an attack, it moved with explosive force. A lunge and swing combination took everything he had to evade.
See the pattern! Its habit. Find opening!
He analyzed the Warrior as they exchanged blows. The creature was skilled. It didn't make the mistakes the other goblins made.
They seemed evenly matched. But Hyoren knew the reality was different.
He aimed at the Warrior's short sword, trying to knock it from its hand. The creature parried with a sharp clank and countered with a slash that nearly took his ear off.
He jumped backward, putting distance between them. The Warrior didn't pursue. It simply reset its stance, waiting.
"I can't find an opening."
His breath came faster now. His blood is full of adrenaline
"This goblin is stronger than me, even with the nectar and magic enhancement."
The wounds on his body were accumulating. The slash on his right arm throbbed. His back ached from the club strikes he'd absorbed.
He would be defeated sooner or later. Even before his enhancement ran out.
He pressed forward again. The fight continued.
He watched the Warrior's movements, searching for any pattern, any weakness.
Then he saw it. The Warrior's sword arm twitched—a subtle movement in the shoulder muscle. A split-second later, it lunged.
I cant evade it! Is this the end!
But then—a miracle.
As the sword closed in, new knowledge etched into his brain. In that split second, the world seemed to slow down.
He could see the trajectory of the sword. The angle of the blade. The follow-through of the swing. He didn't think. His body twisted. The sword passed harmlessly by his side, missing him by a hair's breadth. The wind of its passage ruffled his tunic.
He had gained a new skill in the middle of a fight.
“Evasion. This is definitely skill called Evasion. But for now. I need to focus.”
He is still focusing on the fight—thinking and analyzing is luxury in this situation.
Last Warrior’s lunge make it lose it balance as it sword graze empty air. He using this time to create some distance. And corrected his stance.
"I can't prolong this fight."
He assessed his resources.
"Even with my new evasion skill, my enhancement won't last. I've got about three or four minutes. And I can only use my active skill twice or thrice more."
He stared at the Warrior. The creature was recovering its stance, frustration visible in its eyes.
"I really need to make it count."
He watched the Warrior. Studied its movements. The way it held its sword. The angle of its shoulders.
Then he saw it again—the subtle twitch in its arm—the movement in the shoulder muscle.
That's it! Its habit! It will lunge after this!
The Warrior, still frustrated by Hyoren's sudden evasion, overcommitted. It burst forward in another powerful thrust.
He made his decision. He didn't dodge.
Instead, he raised his left arm. The sword sank into his forearm. A searing pain assaulted him.
He grit his teeth. Held back the scream.
Using only his right hand, he swung his spear. The butt end thrust into goblin right hand.
The Warrior’s grip faltered. The short sword slipped from its fingers. The sword still left deep into his arm. The pain was excruciating. But he held on.
He kicked the Warrior in the abdomen with all his enhanced strength. The creature lost its balance and stumbled backward, unarmed and exposed.
Now was his only chance.
He gripped his spear with both hands—ignoring the agony. The goblin sword was still sunk into his left arm, but he couldn't think about that now. He aimed at the Warrior's chest.
He roared.
“PIERCING THRUST!”
The horned-rabbit spear tip glowed brightly. The split-seconds stretched longer as adrenaline peaked in his body. Time seemed to slow.
He could see the Goblin Warrior's expression. Furious. Desperate. Trying to regain its balance. Reaching for a weapon that wasn't there.
Too late.
The active skill propelled him forward. His spear and body surged with magic. He flew across the distance.
The spear reached its mark. The tip slammed into the Goblin Warrior's chest.
But the creature was strong. Its skin and bone were tough—denser than a normal goblin's. The leather armor it wore absorbed some of the impact.
He felt resistance. The spear tip slowed, struggling to penetrate.
No. Not now.
He focused harder. Drew more magic from his core. Channeled it into the glowing tip. Pushed with everything he had.
The spear punched through.
His trusty weapon—the horned-rabbit spear that had served him for weeks—finally gave in.
The wooden shaft splintered in his hands. The overuse of his active skill. The strain of penetrating the Warrior's tough body. It was too much.
The shaft broke. The horned-rabbit tip remained buried deep in the Goblin Warrior's chest, cracked and split in two.
The Warrior stood frozen for a moment. Its furious expression melted into stunned disbelief. Blood bubbled from its mouth.
Then it slumped to the ground.
***
Hyoren stood over the corpse, his chest heaving, his body screaming in pain.
But he was alive.
“Haah…. Haah…. Haahh….”
His breath is ragged. His adrenaline fueled body make his heartbeat beating like crazy.
"I won."
He stared down at the fallen Goblin Warrior.
"I actually won."
The broken spear shaft in his hands was splintered and useless. The horned-rabbit tip was buried deep in the creature's chest, cracked beyond repair.
"My spear is broken. But I'm alive."
The adrenaline that had sustained him began to fade. The pain came rushing in. But he grit his teeth.
He looked down at the Warrior. The creature's eyes stared at nothing. Its mouth hung open, frozen in that last moment of disbelief.
"Goblin Warrior. If I hadn't reached Level 6. If I didn't have my active skill. If I didn't use the nectar..."
He shook his head.
"I definitely would have been killed within seconds. Its combination of superior strength and knowledge of how to handle a weapon would have been my death sentence."
Then he felt it. The familiar sensation of essence flowing into him. The Warrior's life force, absorbed into his own.
His eyes widened. He focused on the sensation.
"This feeling. Twice a Fighter. More than the Flower Monster."
He calculated the experience.
"This Warrior... gives eight experience points. No wonder it was so powerful, even after I enhanced my body. It was Level 8."
He then knelt, and searched the corpse, and after he removed his broken horn tip from its chest. He found it. It was biggest magic stone he see.
He pocketed it and stood. His legs wobbled beneath him.
"My body hurts. So many slashing wounds. And this..."
He looked down at his left arm.
The Warrior's short sword was still embedded in his forearm. The blade had gone clean through. Blood dripped steadily from the wound, pooling on the ground below.
"Ouch...Ouch!"
The pain was finally registered on his mind. Every movement sent fresh agony through his arm.
"I need to treat this quickly."
He forced himself to think clearly.
"But if I carelessly pull this sword out, blood will spurt. I might bleed to death."
He stumbled toward his bag, which he'd set aside before the battle. His legs were weak. His vision swam slightly.
He reached the bag and rummaged through it. The healing grass bundle was still there, wrapped in leaves. He also had some paste he'd prepared earlier—ground healing grass, ready for application.
He knelt down, holding his wounded arm steady.
"Okay…" he took a breath.
"Apply the paste around the sword first. Let it start working before pull the blade out."
He unwrapped the paste bundle.
With his right hand, he smeared the paste around the entry and exit wounds. The cool sensation was immediate—partial relief from the pain.
He waited. A minute. Two. The paste began to work, the healing properties seeping into the damaged tissue.
Then he gripped the sword's hilt.
"Three. Two. One."
He pulled.
“Hggghhh.”
He gritted his teeth as he pulled. The pain is searing his mind. But he persist.
The blade slid free with a wet sound. He dropped it on the ground—it clanked against the earth—and blood immediately spurted from the wound.
But he was ready. He pressed more paste directly into the hole, packing it tight. Then he wrapped the wound with wide leaves, tying them secure with vine.
The bleeding slowed. Stopped. The wound was still wide and deep, but he wouldn't risk blood loss anymore.
He sat back.
"Haah… Haah…Okay…"
He looked around the clearing.
"I'm alive."
The corpses of fifteen goblins surrounded him. The sacks lay on the ground nearby, still wriggling.
The prisoners.
***
Relieved that his worst wound was already treated, Hyoren remembered the reason he'd fought this warband.
“The burlap sack!”
He looked around the clearing.
The prisoner!”
He stumbled over to the burlap sack. His hands, fumbled with the coarse rope knot. With a final, desperate tug, it came loose. He pulled the sack open.
Inside—trembling, eyes covered with clothes, and the body bound in rope—was not human.
The prisoner was humanoid—two arms, two legs, a face similar to a human's. But there were differences.
“So the prisoner is elf.”
She wore a green tunic that hugged an athletic, lean body. Her long silver hair was disheveled, rustling around her as she lay in the sack. Her face was delicate with high cheekbones.
Her pointed ears—trademark of elves—twitched. She seemed to be trying to register her situation, realizing the sack was open.
Hyoren stared at her.
“An elf."
The word felt strange on his tongue.
"An actual elf."
He'd suspected there might be other races in this world. Fantasy staples—beastkin, dwarves, elves. But suspecting and seeing were two different things.
In the sack, he also noticed her belongings. A bow, crafted from pale wood. A quiver of arrows, fletched with white feathers. A small bag of supplies, scattered around her.
"Elven Ranger?"
He pieced it together.
"And her clothing. It's almost a template for how elves dress in a lot of novels I've read. Green tunic. Bow and arrow. Silver hair."
He shook his head.
"This is so clichéd..."
His first encounter with an intelligent creature in this world was an elf. An elven ranger who'd been caught by goblins. And he'd saved her.