Chapter 17: Goblin Hunting


    Ezren woke up. He opened a portal and cast Reanimation and Branding on a dead bird. Its eyes flickered with dark mana. It twitched, then took flight.


    "Find goblins. North."


    The bird obeyed, soaring into the sky. Ezren stepped through the portal. He grabbed a quick breakfast, then headed north.


    Ezren continued north along the road. After an hour of walking, he opened the portal once more and released the Chimera, its towering, grotesque form stepping forth with a low growl.


    A few minutes later, the undead bird returned, circling above before diving toward a spot northwest. Ezren followed its lead, weaving through the underbrush until he came upon a clearing.


    He crouched behind a tree, eyes narrowing as he spotted six goblins gathered around a fire, roasting a freshly killed boar. They were distracted—laughing, tearing at the meat, completely unaware of the hunter lurking beyond the shadows.


    Ezren inhaled deeply, his senses sharpening as he tapped into the dark mana coursing through him. The bone spike hovered before him, its form twisting slightly as the mana within it thrummed with power. It was alive with energy, waiting for his command.


    With a flick of his will, the spike shot forward, its motion swift but precise, cutting through the air in a blur. It was fast—fast enough to leave a trail of disturbed air in its wake—but still visible, a deadly white streak. The first goblin never saw it coming. The spike slammed into its neck, its momentum carrying it through with a sickening crunch. Blood sprayed, and the goblin dropped, its life snuffed out.


    The others snapped to attention, but the second spike was already in motion. It spun, gaining speed as it tore toward its target. It struck the next goblin’s throat with a brutal force, its momentum enough to drive it deep into the flesh before the creature collapsed, twitching, its life drained.


    The third strike followed, the bone spike’s path deadly and sure. It slashed through the air, its tip carving through the third goblin’s chest with enough force to send it reeling backward, blood gushing from the wound. The spike’s momentum carried it through, the goblin’s body crumpling like a ragdoll.


    But the fourth was different. The goblin jerked away at the last moment, and the spike struck with less force, lodging halfway through its neck. The impact still sent a burst of blood spraying, but it wasn’t enough to bring the creature down in one strike. It stumbled, choking, gasping for air as the blood pooled around its feet.


    Ezren’s eyes gleamed with cold intent.


    “Chimera, kill the rest,” Ezren commanded with his will.


    The Chimera moved with brutal efficiency. Its wolf head lunged forward, jaws crushing the skull of the fifth goblin before it could react. The snakes on its back coiled and lashed out, dragging the final goblin to the ground, fangs sinking deep into its flesh.


    With the battle over, Ezren retrieved his bone spikes, slotting them back into the holster beneath his cloak. He opened the portal and gestured at the Chimera.


    “Drag the bodies through.”


    The creature obeyed, pulling the corpses toward the swirling darkness. Ezren turned to the undead bird. “Are there more?”


    The bird gave a slight nod and flapped its wings, pointing further north.


    Ezren continued on. Minutes later, he saw the goblin camp—a group of fifteen gathered near the side of a small hill. Their crude camp sprawled around the mouth of a cave, with weapons and scavenged goods strewn about.


    Ezren crouched low, eyes narrowing as he calculated his approach. He sent the Chimera to circle around, commanding it to position itself on the camp’s far side.


    Once ready, Ezren unleashed a bone spike, spinning it like a drill before launching it into the first goblin’s skull. Another spike followed, then another, moving with deadly speed.


    Five goblins fell before the others even understood what was happening. The remaining goblins shouted in panic, their eyes widening as they noticed the floating spike dancing through the air like a predator.


    They bolted toward the side of the hill, desperate to escape the unseen attacker—only to run headlong into the waiting Chimera.


    The creature tore through their ranks, its wolf jaws snapping limbs while the snake heads lashed out, biting and constricting. Screams filled the air as Ezren’s bone spike continued its merciless assault, weaving between fleeing bodies and tearing through flesh.


    Within moments, the camp was painted with blood, the stench of death heavy in the air.


    Ezren''s eyes narrowed as the hobgoblin emerged from the cave, his heavy wooden bat slung over his shoulder. The sight of his fallen minions enraged him, his dark eyes gleaming with fury.


    The hobgoblin charged from the cave, bat raised high. His eyes blazed with fury as he closed the distance, roaring in defiance.


    The Chimera’s wolf head lunged, jaws snapping. The hobgoblin swung his bat, deflecting the attack just in time. The wolf’s teeth missed, but the impact of the bat cracked against its skull, knocking it back.


    Ezren’s bone spike hovered in the air, aimed at the hobgoblin’s neck. With a sharp flick of his wrist, the spike shot forward, but the hobgoblin raised his arm just in time. The bone spike lodged deep into his forearm, but he didn’t falter. The hobgoblin grunted, his grip tightening on his bat.


    The Chimera lunged again, but the hobgoblin swung his bat, smashing it into the wolf’s head. The beast staggered back.


    A snake head shot forward, spitting venom. The hobgoblin used his bat to shield himself, stepping forward and swinging again. The Chimera snapped its jaws at his side, but the hobgoblin sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the bite.


    The Chimera’s snakes lashed out. One sank its fangs deep into the hobgoblin’s leg, sending a burst of agony through him. He howled, swinging his bat with brutal force. The bat slammed down on the snake, crushing its skull.


    Ezren sent another spike flying, this one aimed for the hobgoblin’s chest. The hobgoblin staggered, but before the spike could pierce his heart, he swung his bat, knocking it off course. It struck his shoulder instead, leaving a deep wound.


    Ezren’s eyes narrowed as the hobgoblin staggered, losing his balance. Blood poured from the wounds left by the bone spikes, his breathing ragged.


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    Through sheer will, Ezren directed the Chimera. Tackle him .


    The Chimera lunged forward, crashing into the hobgoblin with brutal force. The tackle drove him to the ground, but the hobgoblin twisted at the last moment, managing to raise his bat horizontally. He wedged it between himself and the Chimera’s snapping jaws.


    The wolf head snarled, teeth gnashing inches away from the hobgoblin’s face. The bat creaked under the strain, held firm by the hobgoblin’s trembling arms.


    Ezren pressed his will harder. The Chimera’s snakes struck with vicious speed. Two of them sank their fangs deep into the hobgoblin’s arms. He screamed, but he held the bat in place, his muscles straining against the Chimera’s relentless assault.


    Poison flooded his veins. His arms trembled, strength draining away. Seconds later, his grip faltered. The bat dropped from his weakening fingers, clattering uselessly to the ground.


    The wolf head lunged, jaws crushing the hobgoblin’s neck. Flesh and bone gave way under the brutal force. The hobgoblin’s final, choked gasp escaped before his body went still.


    The Chimera rose, snakes hissing in satisfaction, blood dripping from its fangs. Ezren withdrew his will, allowing the creature to return to his side.


    Ezren walked through the goblin camp, his boots crunching the dry earth beneath him as his eyes scanned the scene. Corpses lay scattered across the ground, abandoned and forgotten in the aftermath of a brutal battle. Unlike when he’d been on Earth, where the sight of dead animals would leave him uneasy, he felt nothing. Back there, he would bury them, feeling a pang of discomfort, but here, in this new world, death was as common as the air he breathed. It was like Orin, accepting the dead that had become a part of him. Now, death wasn’t something to be feared, but rather, a natural thing that was simply… there.


    The disarray around him didn’t faze him. His focus was on the task at hand. He made his way toward the cave of the hobgoblin, entering it cautiously. Inside, there was nothing remarkable, just a dimly lit space where the hobgoblin had likely spent many nights resting. He didn’t linger long. There was nothing to be gained here.


    Ezren turned, stepping out of the cave and opening a portal with a wave of his hand. The Chimera appeared, obedient to his call. He commanded it to drag the closest goblin corpse back through the rift, bringing it to the forge. Once the body was settled, he summoned Graos, who arrived with his usual silent presence.


    “Analyze it,” Ezren ordered.


    Graos extended his tendrils to the corpse, the dark appendages wrapping around the goblin’s body. After a brief moment, he retracted them, his face unreadable.. As he worked, Ezren took out some raw boar meat from his pack, along with some seasonings. He built a small fire and began to prepare his meal, turning the Liempo slowly on the spit as the smell of cooking meat filled the air.


    Once the meat was done, Ezren sat back and ate, his mind wandering for a moment. When he finished, Graos gave his report on the goblin’s traits.


    He didn’t want to bother with creating a new monster right now. His work was done. he command graos “Just cut off the left ear of each goblin, take the head of the hobgoblin , and skin them.”


    Graos, without a word, went to work efficiently, cutting off the ears and taking the hobgoblin’s head. The skinning process was meticulous, but Graos didn’t seem to mind the task, his focus unwavering.


    Ezren sat back, meditating quietly for about an hour, gathering his thoughts as Graos worked. Once the ears and head were secured in a sack, he stood up and stretched. It was time to go.


    He opened another portal, calling upon the bird to lead him back to the road. With the bird’s guidance, Ezren retraced his steps, taking the two-hour walk back to the town. The familiar sights of the town greeted him as he approached. He paid the toll to enter and headed straight to the mercenary hall.


    Ezren entered the bustling mercenary hall, the warmth of the hearth and the low hum of conversation filling the air. Behind a sturdy desk sat a grizzled man, his scarred face and steely gaze giving him an air of authority. He looked up from his paperwork, eyes narrowing as he noticed Ezren.


    “Well, well, if it isn’t our newest recruit,” the man grunted, his voice rough but not unfriendly. “You’re starting to look like a proper mercenary now.”


    Ezren gave a brief nod, uninterested in pleasantries. He placed the sack onto the counter with a dull thud.


    The man''s gaze shifted to the sack, his expression hardening as he unwrapped it and found the severed goblin ears and the hobgoblin head. His eyes widened, but only for a moment before they settled into a scowl.


    “The quest was scouting,” he growled. “Observe the goblins, report back. Not… this.”


    He jabbed a finger at the bloody trophies. “A hobgoblin? You damn fool, that’s not something a green recruit should be messing with. You trying to get yourself killed?”


    “I handled it,” Ezren replied, his tone flat. “The scouting was simple. The goblins were no match.”


    The man stared at him, expression torn between irritation and curiosity. “You handled it, huh?” he repeated, eyes narrowing. “How the hell did you do it?”


    Ezren met his gaze, his voice calm and steady. “I dealt with them. No need for further explanation.”


    The Guild Master’s gaze bore into Ezren, his scarred face unreadable. He leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming against the wood.


    “Dealt with them...” he echoed, eyes narrowing. “You sure as hell did. But a hobgoblin?” He shook his head. “You’re a new recruit, Ezren. That was a damn fool move. Scouts are meant to watch and report. Not march into a camp and start swinging.”


    Ezren didn’t flinch. “The goblins were no threat. Neither was the hobgoblin.”


    The Guild Master grunted. “Cocky, are you? Or just stupid?” His tone was sharp, but there was a glint of curiosity in his gaze. “Hobgoblins aren’t something you just deal with. Not unless you’ve got skill... or a death wish.”


    Ezren remained silent, his expression steady. The Guild Master let the silence stretch, his gaze probing.


    “How did you do it?” the Guild Master asked, his voice low and demanding.


    Ezren’s eyes met his. “Does it matter?”


    The old man let out a short, barking laugh. “I suppose not. But it matters to me if I’m gonna be handing out coin for a job I never expected you to survive.”


    He leaned forward, the chair creaking under his weight. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. But guts only get you so far before they’re spilled all over the dirt.”


    The Guild Master jabbed a finger at the hobgoblin’s head. “I’ll count this as a completed quest. You went above and beyond. But I’m warning you now, Ezren—keep this up, and you’re either gonna be rich or dead. Maybe both.”


    The Guild Master reached into a drawer, producing a small pouch of coins and tossing it onto the counter. “Here. Your reward. And a bit extra, for the hobgoblin. Don’t make me regret it.”


    Ezren caught the pouch, feeling the weight of the coins. But before he could turn away, the old man held up a hand.


    “One more thing.” The Guild Master rummaged through the drawer again, his fingers fishing out a small, engraved tag made of darkened bronze. He held it up, the metal catching the light.


    “Congratulations, Ezren. You’ve passed the recruitment test.” The Guild Master’s tone was gruff, but there was a hint of approval in his gaze. “This is your Bronze Tag. Your proof that you’re officially a mercenary now.”


    He slid the tag across the counter. It was simple, about the size of a coin, engraved with the insignia of the mercenary guild and Ezren’s name etched along the edge. A leather cord was threaded through a small hole at the top, meant to be worn around the neck or attached to one’s gear.


    “Keep it on you at all times,” the Guild Master continued. “Lose it, and you’ll be paying for a replacement out of your own damn pocket. And more importantly, that tag’s your only proof you’re a legitimate mercenary. No tag, no jobs. Understand?”


    Ezren took the tag and inspected it briefly before slipping it around his neck. “Understood.”


    The Guild Master gave a satisfied nod. “Good. Now get out of here before I decide you’re more trouble than you’re worth.”


    Ezren nodded to the Guild Master and turned away, the weight of the Bronze Tag settling around his neck. The hall was lively, mercenaries gathered in groups, laughing, drinking, or discussing their latest contracts.


    His eyes drifted to the bulletin board mounted on the far wall, plastered with various posters and notices. He approached, scanning the papers with a sharp gaze.


    Hunting. Escorting. Scouting. Most of the jobs seemed tedious or below his interest. But one poster caught his eye—a request written in bold, hurried strokes:


    “WANTED: Wild Bear Extermination


    Location: West Village


    Problem: Bear killing livestock. Threat level increasing.


    Reward: 5 Silver Coins upon completion.


    Report to the village head for details.”


    Ezren tore the poster from the board, folding it neatly and tucking it into his pouch. A hunt was straightforward enough.


    With the Bronze Tag secured and a new quest in hand, he stepped out of the mercenary hall, and go to the market.


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    system of mercenary is - copper-bronze(proper warrior or soldier)-silver(can lead a group or can fight fight a group of people) mostly people who is skilled, can use magic or aura -gold (top tear mercenary that master aura or magic). after gold most people get scouted by lords and noble to be personal guards or soldiers.