Arav saw the top of the hill near him as he moved up and up. Freedom was right there. If he could get up there, he could report this entire situation to the Adventurer's League, and these goblins would get exterminated as soon as the Undead issue was properly dealt with.
It did not matter how strong these goblins thought they were. They had let their pride get to their heads, and now they truly thought they could match up against the might of the Common Body. The Adventurer's League would coming bearing down, and because Arav was a known five star adventurer, they would take his words seriously.
They would send a seven star adventurer here at the very least, and what would these goblins do in the face of that might?
Nothing.
Nothing except roll over and die as goblins should.
Arav gritted his teeth, annoyed that he had to lose Erik in a place like this to goblins of all things. Erik was important to soak damage and deal it with Arav. Losing another piece like that in the team was going to take some time to patch up.
Not to mention that after this incident, there would no doubt be ill rumors spread that the Coiled Serpent team was so incompetent that they had even let goblins get the better of them. Precious few strong or talented individuals who had their own best interests in mind would ever want to join the Coiled Serpent with that rumor looming around.
Already, as Arav took the last few steps up to the top of the hill, he thought about how to word his report to the Adventurer's League so that it would make him look better. Perhaps by saying that the four-armed goblin was some kind of aberrant monster? The spawn of some lost millennial beast, perhaps.
Arav leaped up to the top of the hill with one final jump, but just before his feet landed on solid ground, he saw something that made his eyes widen in surprise.
Another odd goblin with icy white skin. This one, however, was far older than the others with a slightly hunched back and visibly deep wrinkles lining his face. The aged goblin leaned on a large walking stick, and he was still big, easily as big as a champion were he to stand up straight.
A long white beard made of crystals of ice drooped down from his chin, and his deep blue eyes stared at Arav with pity as he raised an open palm towards him.
The goblin's thin arms were lined with glowing blue markings fashioned in the shape of snowflakes. Circuitry, it seemed, but of a kind Arav had never seen before. Regardless, there was a spell coming, and Arav readied to strike the old goblin.
Too late, however.
A blast of wind and ice gusted out from the aged goblin's hand, sending Arav sailing backwards, falling straight down into the basin. The goblin tapped his staff into the ground, causing chunks of ice to suddenly emerge form the face of the hill, destroying the metal steps Federic had made and forcing everyone else back to the basin.
Arav landed on his two feet with grace, but he gritted his teeth in increasing rage and desperation. His chance to escape was gone.
He turned to meet the goblins they had fled from, knowing now that they were forced to fight their way through. But they might stand a chance. With two of the champions disabled, there were only four to worry about, and if escape was all the team focused on, then it was possible for one or two of them to escape with their lives.
"What?" murmured Arav in shock as his arms hung limp at his side, the fighting will drained from him.
The two wounded champions were completely fine. Their wounds were knitted over with crystalline white magical energy, healing them to near perfect condition.
What was that healing? It was not something ever recorded before among goblins.
Where did it come from? Was it magic? No, Arav's eyes did not sense a spell being cast on them.
The hobgoblins the champions guarded were now securely behind the domineering force of four immensely powerful champions, the chieftain, and the impossibly strong four-armed goblin. It would be impossible even to use the hobgoblins as hostages or distractions now.
The four-armed goblin had Erik's brawny figure impaled on a fist, and the goblin grunted as he tossed Erik's corpse far away, sending it splashing into the water of the basin. Erik's body floated upwards face down, dead.
There was not even a single injury on the four armed goblin, not even one that had healed over. Erik, a newly minted four star adventurer, a man from Fjall no less, famed for its hardy and tough warriors, had fallen just like that?
In just one single blow? Without even granting his opponent a glancing scratch?
==
Thragg was disappointed by these humans. They were weak. Far, far weaker than him. He marveled at the power the Sovnar had granted him, at how before, he would have fled for his lives at even the faintest scent of humans like this.
"Stand behind me. I will deal with them," said Thragg. "They are strong enough to wound you. But not me."
"It is right for me to bring forth punishment for the lost lives of my own tribesmen," said Drogan.
"We are all of the same tribe now, Drogan," said Thragg. "And you do not have the same healing power invested unto us by the Sovnar. Your injuries, you may be able to heal yourself, but a lethal one, none of us can mend.
I will not have more of us injured now that I know the strength of these adventurers."
"Understood," said Drogan with a firm nod. "I trust you to bring forth justice in my name."
Thragg smiled. "Certainly."
The goblin elite stepped forwards, his large body making large splashes through the water as he trudged towards the adventurers. Each of his steps had a heavy pressure emanating from it, his blue eyes fiercely poised forwards in a stare that promised nothing but a swift death.
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