Goblin Swordsman (2)
Sikat Mountain was about a fifteen-minute walk from Dakein Territory. After passing through the gates and trekking onward, I reached the base of a fairly tall peak shrouded in thick, verdant foliage. I pushed through the rustling bushes and began climbing.
First, the herbs. I scanned the surroundings for the herbs I needed. Picking out only the right ones from the dense undergrowth was tricky, but ultimately, it came down to sharp eyes. And for a swordsman, keen eyesight was a fundamental virtue.
Got it.
Before long, the herbs I was after caught my eye. I carefully dug them up, taking care not to damage the roots.
I stowed the gathered herbs in my inventory and continued up the mountain. The request form had detailed descriptions of their features and appearances—I'd memorized them all with a single glance.
But right now, my attention wasn't on those trivial herbs. They were just a bonus I'd picked up while coming to Sikat Mountain anyway.
So, the dungeon? Well... sort of. The quest from Garen was anything but ordinary.
A Goblin Swordsman. A bizarre and shocking term.
Goblins in my memory were always the same. Small stature, reeking of filth with no hygiene, dumb as rocks, clad only in a rag barely covering their privates. They had occasional cunning, but never beyond a child's level. Their only noteworthy trait was their insane breeding rate. Short-lived, yet they multiplied like crazy—if left alone, they'd swarm in no time. Kinda threatening in that regard. Fitting for those sleazy 19+ novels they popped up in so often.
But those goblins wielding swordsmanship? The mere image caused cognitive dissonance.
"......"
Anyway, first things first—find the dungeon. I'd probably run into that peculiar goblin along the way.
Hmm. I heightened my senses as I walked. At some point, I'd started feeling a presence shadowing me from the trees above.
No attack yet. Just cautious eyes watching me.
A goblin? Or...
Hard to say. But it was incredibly skilled at concealing its presence. A natural-born hunter. Probably holding back because it was sizing me up as prey worth hunting.
In that case, I just needed to show an opening. The best way to draw out a hunter.
Where... I scanned around for a suitable pretext. Right on cue, one of the quest herbs caught my eye. Perfect excuse to expose a vulnerability.
"Ah, found it."
I deliberately spoke aloud, bending down with feigned excitement. Classic newbie adventurer move!
—Swish.
My unbalanced stance, vision obscured. The direction of the unseen hunter was a total blind spot. If it intended to strike, this was the golden opportunity.
The instant I reached for the herb, senses razor-sharp—
—Ting!
A sword whipped out in a flash, blocking my side. Something clattered against the blade and hit the ground. Glancing down, I saw a sharp needle fallen amid the bushes, its tip glistening with viscous liquid. Poison, no doubt.
As that brief thought flashed, I snapped my head up.
A green-skinned goblin dropped from the branches, gripping a genuine sword.
"......Ha!"
No exaggeration in the request—a laugh-mingled exclamation, and sword light flickered.
In midair, our two blades clashed. Instinctively, I sensed I was outmatched in raw power.
Now even a goblin overpowers me in strength? How depressing.
But swordsmanship was born for the weak to challenge the strong. Power disadvantage? Overcomable.
—Kagagak!
The blade slid diagonally, deflecting the weighted strike sideways. Spinning in place to dissipate the remaining force, I shoved the goblin's staggering upper body with my left hand.
"......Keruk?!"
Failing to land on its feet, the goblin rolled into a breakfall, creating distance.
Even knows breakfalls?
Poison needle for an opening, aerial ambush. Even after the strike was parried and countered, no panic—just a smooth retreat. Unbelievable for a goblin.
Where the hell did it learn this?
As I replayed the exchange, the goblin regained its stance and raised its sword.
"To block that—impressive, keruk!"
"......It talks?"
I was shocked again. Speaking goblins were rare mutants like shamans. This one's build was standard—maybe 140-150 cm tall. A prodigy goblin?
"This area is my territory, keruk! Intruders who enter without permission die!"
"Oh, really?"
Goblins weren't territorial, as far as I knew. Whatever. I grinned back.
"Then come at me."
—Paak!
The goblin kicked off the ground and charged. Despite its speed from small size and light weight, it made almost no noise.
I watched it rush through the leaf litter.
Almost like Grass-on-Flight.
To me, its movements blurred into afterimages. The physical gap was vast. I had to predict, not just see.
Its straightforward speed lacked feints—useless against superiors.
—Sguk!
My pre-extended sword grazed its flesh. Green skin, but red blood like humans.
The goblin dropped low, braking hard. Dust billowed, and in the haze, it twisted for a horizontal slash. Obscured by dirt and size, but crystal clear to me.
I parried upward, thinking: Pretty strong. Enough to take down six mid-tier adventurers. Swordsmanship too sharp for a goblin. Basics a bit rough, but compensated by instinct—and surprisingly adept aura control. Two Flowers realm, nearing Three Flowers.
And above all... an eerie familiarity.
This swordsmanship feels...
Then, the goblin drew its sword like nocking an arrow. Tense, coiled body. That stance sparked recognition.
No way.
Sword light flashed.
Flash Sword. First Form. Hundred Forms Heavenly Flash.
The thrust split into five, lightning-fast. No illusion—each empowered by aura, real strikes targeting vitals.
—Kagagagak!
I parried every one without fail, having anticipated and struck first. Sparks flew with each clash.
Familiar swordsmanship. One I knew intimately.
A question arose: How does this thing know it?
Flash Sword. None other than the technique I'd created myself. A crude art from my childhood—right after reaching Master at age thirteen. How did it learn this?
I had a hunch. Problem was, memory fuzzy.
Did I leave a Flash Sword manual in this dungeon?
Who knows. Flash Sword was a flawed early creation—raw talent poured in without regard for opponents, due to inexperience. Low importance, so no tracking which dungeon it went into. Probably tossed in haphazardly.
And that wasn't all odd. The sword it wielded was a fine named blade, rare in these parts. Where'd a mountain goblin get that?
Only one answer came to mind.
Too good to kill.
If it'd found my dungeon, it'd hoarded the elixirs and treasures inside. Better to keep it alive.
......No, even without that, I didn't want to kill such an amusing creature. One versed in my swordsmanship—not a disciple, but a successor of sorts. Well, goblin, so not exactly "person." Anyway.
Flash Sword. Second Form...
—Kwajik!
Aura flared from its body; I preempted the next form. As its creator, I knew every stance. With all cards revealed, disrupting the flow was easy.
"Keruk, what the—!!"
I swung at the stunned goblin. Interrupted form caused aura backlash—internal injury inevitable at Two Flowers, sans full-body meridians.
"Kek!"
A solid pommel to the head, and it crumpled unconscious.
I pried the sword from its grip, sealed key points with acupressure.
"Nngh."
Then hoisted the fully subdued goblin over my shoulder. I'd finish gathering herbs first, then hear its story.