There Are No Bad Centipedes

The leap-accelerate-bite combo was lightning quick. A collaboration of skill sets—no, a combination. Whatever you call it, the sequence flowed so seamlessly it felt like unleashing a single skill. Any run-of-the-mill goblin would've had its heart devoured before it could blink.

But Skull Crusher Ayutar wasn't your average goblin. And unlike the others, it was clad in armor covering its upper body. No choice but to target the exposed bits—hand or neck. I went for the neck.

Sparks flew, revealing my form for a split second. Intense light always gives way to even deeper darkness. And darkness? That's my stage.

I slithered silently to its nape. Time to sink my fangs into that rank neck.

"GRRROOAAAR!"

That's when it happened. Ayutar bellowed a guttural roar and altered the club's trajectory. At the same time, it swung its thick forearm at me like a battering ram.

I went flying through the air with a whoosh. Damn, it caught on. It had figured out I was aiming for the nape. Even blind, if you know where the attack's coming from, you can block it. Size disadvantage sucks.

I soared through the sky for what felt like ages before landing on one goblin's shoulder.

"GYAAAH!"

A cold, slimy thing latched onto it from the shadows. Crock's goblin shrieked like it'd seen a ghost. Fair enough.

"Back off, you ghost!"

It really thought a ghost was choking it. With my hint of suggestion, I could see the goblin's panic plain as day—spinning in circles, swinging its blade wildly at nothing. It's fine! Totally! Fine!

I calmed it down. By biting its lower back and squeezing its throat.

"GURK!"

With its death rattle.

Goblin EXP is always such great value. I dropped lightly to the ground with a thud.

The battlefield was utter chaos. Goblins could pierce the dark better than humans, sure. But night was still night. Crock's goblins, who'd been carrying torches until moments ago, hadn't adapted to the dark yet. They had to rely on starlight.

Pew-pew-pew—arrows whistled from the forests on both sides. Runga archers couldn't see either, but enough shots and you'd hit something. Dozens of goblins were already down from arrows or crushed under wagons.

"Shields up, form ranks! Wolf riders, into the woods!"

Even in the frenzy, some were barking orders. But arrows weren't endless—their metallurgy was too primitive. Melee it was.

A flock of ostriches burst from the woods. Runga riders on ostrich-back tore across the night field. Red Crow Ostriches were nocturnal. They charged through the dark effortlessly. And these weren't ordinary ostriches—they were Red Crow Ostriches. Their already vicious talons gleamed like blades.

"KRAAACK!"

Heart-slicing ostrich! The goblin victim sprayed blood as it screamed. Talons were white, so why "Red Crow"? Blood made 'em crimson.

"GRR!"

Then wolves pounced on the ostriches. The rider dangled dead from an arrow to the head, but the blood-mad wolf wouldn't stop biting.

Total melee madness. No matter how effective Snake General Kongming's strategy was, blood had to flow. Runga and Crock goblins tangled in the fray.

But...

This is practically my stage.

No torches anywhere. Knee-high grass. Screams and shouts masking the rustle of grass. Perfect for a snake to rampage.

Sssslither—just nip an ankle as I pass.

White snakes look cooler than black ones, sure. But black blends into shadows. Practicality wins.

Goblins dropped one by one in my wake. Thud, thud, thud.

My fierce venom proficiency, which leveled so slowly, shot up.

Once I'd dropped over ten goblins, Crock's bunch finally clocked my presence. Death was crawling among them.

"Watch out—snake!"

"Damn it, GYAAH!"

Some mistook rustling grass for me. They flailed wildly, but I was long gone.

Clang! Boom!

In front of two hobgoblins locked in furious combat, ignoring their surroundings: Nanaruk and Ayutar. The strongest pair still sparking off each other.

I bound ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Ayutar's feet with earth, making it stumble. Nanaruk's blade slammed into its shoulder.

Clang!

Crude armor blocked the blade's bite. But that shoulder had to hurt like hell.

I leaped again, chomping its exposed left hand. Squeezed every drop from my venom glands.

"KRAAACK!"

Neurotoxin would flood its body in seconds. Victory mine.

Ayutar's eyes met mine. Skull Crusher earned its epithet fair and square. It had grit.

"GRRROOAAARRR!"

It tossed the club and drew a backsword from its belt.

"P-Poison... sssnake!"

And hacked off its bitten left arm with the blade.

Slash!

"Hahk, hahk! I'm alive!"

This goblin. How scared of snakes was it?

Blood gushed from the stump. Then a sharp axe blade cleaved through the spray.

Nanaruk.

Slice!

Aimed for the neck, no doubt. But Ayutar blocked with its right hand in a flash.

Thud. What fell wasn't its head—it was the right hand.

Both arms gone. Defeat sealed. Yet Ayutar wouldn't quit. It used its bulk to grapple Nanaruk in a bear hug and bit her nape.

"Aaack!"

Even comeback warrior Nanaruk was stunned. Why was this mad goblin so ferocious? The "goblin trash mob" stereotype was shattered.

Nanaruk shoved back, twisting to escape. Danger!

I climbed Ayutar's leg. Couldn't pry it off with my strength. Fine—cut its air myself.

Up the leg, into the gap in its dangling armor top. Ugh, sweat stench. But my stomach's tough.

I mauled its belly.

"AAAAACK!"

It wailed deafeningly. Lucky it. If I were my old tiny size, I'd have slipped into its navel and burst out its mouth.

It finally broke, fleeing. I felt its body tilt. Boom—gravity shifted with the impact.

Skull Crusher moved no more. Long-overdue chain level-ups hit.

Three whole levels. Past Lv10. Electric thrill surged through me. Sounds pervy? Call it refreshing bliss.

Just a quick breather. Armor covers me. Need HP regen.

Like inside Chimera or Mix Jaguar—cozy. But the stench... Chimera guts were worse, but still gross.

I twisted to escape, but blood-soaked, no dice. Frontal assault it was.

Ayutar's armor was crude scrap linked together. Pry the fibers slow, make a hole.

I did. Shoved my head through—light greeted me. Torches lit? Fight over, our win obviously.

Splurt!

I burst from its chest plate. Goblins welcomed me with beaming smiles... nah, not ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠really. Nanaruk grinned, but Crock's prisoners on their knees gaped in horror.

"It ate Ayutar's heart!"

"Heart-eating snake—for real!"

Ah, must look that way. Wasn't aiming for heart this time. Snake with bloody mouth bursting from boss's chest? Yeah.

What?! No "Uluulululu" yet, but Heart-Eater gets prestige boost? Meaning clear soon.

Ooh, description upgraded. Flashier, records my feats. "Special heart-eating" technique? Don't have one, but whatever.

What feats for "Uluulululu"? Kill that headless red snake with lightning? Tricky.

"Status?"

Nanaruk directed warriors to clean up. Her nape bite wound gone—potion magic.

"Fifteen prisoners."

"Casualties and wounded?"

"Six dead. Five with severed limbs."

Of eighty goblins, ten combat-ineffective. Seventy still kicking. Crushing victory.

Thanks to me.

Pellelian's potions. Nearly twenty bottles, over half used on goblins. Insanely effective—even limb loss healed fight-ready.

"Negotiate with these prisoners, Chieftain?"

Jadiram asked Nanaruk. Tsk, naive.

"No."

Not our plan.

"We hit Crock straight on."

Crock sent all warriors to die. Crush him, reclaim my dungeon.

Precisely my dungeon. Anyway.

* * *

"Chieftain! CHIEFTAIN!"

Crock's minion panted up.

"Come out!"

"What."

Crock glared murderously. He'd been at the dig site for days. Major breakthrough: main entrance found. Traps everywhere confirmed it. Used up all prisoners. Now sending old/sick tribesfolk as bait. Morale tanked, but who cared? They couldn't defy him.

Why drag him out now?

"Ayutar and all warriors—dead."

"What?"

Impossible. Gave 'em tons of wolf riders! Ayutar was second strongest hobgoblin.

Outside, one armless hobgoblin slumped. Ayutar's warrior.

"S-sorry, Chieftain."

"...Other tribes allied?"

Otherwise, soft Runga couldn't win.

"No... ambushed."

Grind—Crock's teeth gnashed.

"Runga losses? All dead?"

Fine if so. Crock was strongest.

"Took out maybe twenty of hundred..."

"Bullshit!"

Was about to kick survivor when—

Dong-dong-dong!

Shoddy watchtower goblin rang bell.

"Enemy attack! ENEMY ATTACK!"

Elephant Rock had no palisades even.

"Warriors... sixty—no, seventy! Lots of ostrich riders!"

"Hueeek!"

Survivor convulsed. Trauma etched deep?

Minion yelled: "Chieftain! Rally warriors!"

"Go block 'em."

"You...?"

Crock stone-faced: "I'm staying at the dig."

Minion shocked. Chieftain skipping fight?

"Th-then...!"

"Call Beast Tamer Melchi!"

"Ah."

"Hold 'em off—even if you all die!"

Crock strode inside without pause. Tribe's fate? Less important than what's below.

Mysterious man who evolved him to Hobgoblin King, showed path beyond. Said Reverse Archmage's legacy hidden here at Elephant Rock.

* * *

Rode half-day with Nanaruk. Reached Elephant Rock.

There—totally it! These rat bastards!

Dig site intact below. Rock not collapsed—unlooted.

Pellelian urged enter fast. Planned that.

"Thanks."

Nanaruk winked. Split from goblins now. Melee starts, I sneak to dungeon.

Ostrich-back kept me full HP. Crock remnants rang bells, prepping defense. Warriors rushed out.

Just before clash, Crock goblins cheered grinning.

"Beast Tamer Melchi's here—!"

Skinny goblin shaman appeared. Anchovy-lookin', draped in black cloth not armor.

"Kill 'em all, Melchi!"

Clear why Crock warriors cheered the scrawny one.

"Damn... trouble."

Even Nanaruk tensed. "Beast Tamer" epithet earned.

It summoned a monster. Huge one...

"King Centipede."

Enormous king centipede barred Runga warriors. Crimson venom claws.

Nah, Great King Centipede.

Everyone freaked. I didn't get it. Why tense? Centipedes are nice, common knowledge, right?

See?!