Sprites are a species that loves and hates with equal clarity.
They resent strangers barging into their lives and territory, but once you earn their approval they meet you with boundless warmth.
Along the way, the adorable little creatures flew out front brimming with energy, darting through the trees and pointing out easy paths, never seeming to tire.
Though they'd only just met, Gauss decided to immediately cast Omni-Armor on the four sprite guides.
There were four targets, but the mana cost wasn't much. That ward's drain scales with the target's size, and sprites are only a hair bigger than a human palm—hardly a strain.
Still, Gauss doubted the bubbles would matter much. Every coin has two sides: the gods close one door and open another. Small bodies make sprites less brutal head-on, but they're much harder to hit; add agile flight and enemies will find landing a blow far more difficult.
So when Gauss offered to shield them, the four little ones shook their heads hard—they didn't need it, and didn't want him wasting mana.
Gauss cast anyway. Whether they'd need it was one question; having it was another. No reason to give everyone else protection and pinch pennies on four tiny allies.
Mana flared from his staff; an almost invisible, softly gleaming film settled over each sprite like the lightest of soap bubbles.
"Thank you, big one—but you're wasting mana. Steel should go on the blade," said Thistle, the sprites' squad leader, bowing first on behalf of the others.
"I've got plenty. Don't worry—one breath and it's back."
With native guides leading, the team knifed through the forest.
Since no one knew which goblins matched Gauss's true target—and at his request—the sprites opted to take them past every goblin camp they knew.
"Look—are those the ones you're after?"
A sprite pointed through a slit of leaves at a clearing beyond. Even at a distance, the stale stink of goblins carried on the air.
A dozen goblins were scattered about in their "daily life." A few fiddled with a crude stone-ring fire, tossing odds and ends into a clay pot. Others fought over a bloody rabbit skin, clawing each other with sharp nails until the beefiest one planted a foot on a head, yanked the pelt away, and tied it around his own brow with a satisfied grin.
"Doesn't look like it," Gauss said, shaking his head—but smiling.
The goblins the sprites had pointed out carried all manner of wooden weapons; aside from pelts and leaves at their waists, they had no protection at all. That shabby look meant these weren't the quarry. Just ordinary wild goblins—no different from the many bands he'd culled before.
"There are more and more green-skin scum this size lately," a sprite sighed.
As forest natives, they felt the changes most keenly. To great monsters, goblin numbers hardly matter, but to ordinary beasts—especially herbivores—goblins spell disaster. Normal predation wouldn't offend sprites; that's part of nature. But goblins aren't normal predators. As their bands swell, the surrounding ecology gets wrecked. The way they seize females as brood machines—and butcher them after—alone makes sprites, who favor kind creatures, bristle with instinctive disgust.
So sprites routinely collect goblin intel and periodically muster strike teams. Thistle, Dandelion, Glowdew, and Moss—the four with Gauss—were the cream of those anti-goblin raiders. Small they may be, but common goblins can barely resist them—these are one-in-hundreds elites.
When Gauss confirmed the attack, the four raised their weapons, ready to fly—and then Gauss moved.
Light bloomed at his wand; six Magic Missiles coalesced in the air.
Targets locked, comet-blue orbs streaked into the biggest goblins.
Boom-boom-boom!
A chain of brutal detonations ripped through the pack, flinging the marked goblins—and any standing near them—into the air.
In a single exchange, their numbers dropped by more than half.
The rest froze, baffled. A terror pressed down on the air, numbing their limbs and chilling their hands and feet. Dark yellow pee ran down from under their leaf-and-rag crotch wraps, soaking the dirt. They looked toward the source of that fear—and the world filled with growing blue light.
A flash of heat roared over their bodies—then nothing.
Two volleys of upcast Magic Missile scrubbed the clearing; the goblins died before they even saw Gauss.
The magic quieted. The clearing was a wreck. The goblins' ends were ghastly—most no longer even had recognizable forms. Charred chunks, shards of bone, sprays of blood and viscera painted turf and trunks in foul dark red.
Gauss had been testing the upcast. The verdict: nearly double the punch, and the count had jumped from five to six—he could probably push to seven if he tried. Never mind a pack of common goblins—even Level 1–2 elites couldn't withstand that.
"Th—the green-skins are all… gone?"
The four sprites blinked, stunned. As Gauss eyed their crashed expressions and wondered if he'd gone too far with the gore, the quartet whipped around and zipped to his face with bright, excited voices.
"You're amazing, big one!"
"With one whump, the green-skins were all gone!"
"Teach me? I want to kill them like that too!"
"…."
Right, then.
Seeing their excitement, Gauss realized he'd overthought it. Unlike pixies, many sprites are tough, scrappy fighters; they don't feel much pity for their enemies.
"Sorry, little ones. I can't teach you that spell."
"Aww…"
"But if you're that strong, do we even help?" Realization hit; their shoulders drooped as they stared at their needle-fine weapons—skills with nowhere to use them.
"Getting me to them is the biggest help," Gauss said, and headed for the camp. Threads of goblin spirit drifted into him. Yes—since Clay Magic hit lv4 over the last two days, he no longer needed to finish with clay constructs to harvest spirit: as long as he dealt the kill, he could channel the clay mana afterward and collect.
Feeling his goblin soul-node swell a touch, Gauss nodded, satisfied.
"Your Magic Missile's stronger again," Alia said, impressed. She'd seen it thousands of times—this was a clear step up.
"Just got the upcasting smooth," Gauss said. "I'll dial it back next time. No need to upcast on flimsy targets."
No need to turn the place into a slaughterhouse every time.
Shadow hadn't lifted a hand. A tiny goblin band didn't stir even a flicker of her fighting spirit. She only blinked at Gauss and his wand, tilted her head, and fell into puzzlement.
…
Time flew.
Once the sprites realized how thick the thigh they were hugging was, they led Gauss straight to one goblin nest after another. Officially, the commission was about a Blackfang-affiliated goblin tribe—but Gauss wasn't in a rush. For him, crushing goblins is also top priority. And…
Total Monsters Kill: 3,859.
In a day or two, he'd added nearly two hundred goblins. The next milestone reward was close enough to taste. If possible, he wanted to hit it before facing the real target.
He suspected the farthest goblin group—the mining one the sprites mentioned—was linked to the commission. But with rewards within reach, why leave a sure upgrade on the table just to slam the main plot?
No last-minute breakthroughs if he could help it. Better to take the gain early and bank it. Even if fresh stats can refresh your body mid-fight, there's no need. Upgrades and other rewards take time to digest. That's part of planning growth. Gauss preferred breakthroughs in calm routine, not in the teeth of battle—more controllable.
"The green-skins are all dead again," a sprite chirped, counting on her fingers, grinning ear to ear. Every goblin band they hated that died was wonderful news.
"Any more nearby?" Gauss asked, smiling at their joy. Natives make the best guides. Many cave-hidden nests would be hard to find without them.
As he farmed goblins, his racial talents—Energy Storage Glands and Ironscale Bloodline—were ticking up too. His energy scales looked more vivid, and his protection felt a touch stronger.
"There are. Yes, big one."
"Let me think…"
"Take your time," Gauss told them, then glanced at his teammates. None objected to his plan to mop up the area's goblins—not even the newcomer, Shadow.
But the longer she traveled with Gauss, the deeper Shadow's confusion became. Over these two days she'd basically only followed along—in truth, Gauss did the killing. She'd done almost nothing… and yet she felt stronger.
At first she thought it was her imagination. Then, days ago, her archery jumped a tier. When the arrows began to carry shadow power, she knew the surge was real. Archery was only a recent pickup—an option for times when using shadow abilities wasn't wise.
Being Level 5, she'd learned fast—astonishingly fast by normal standards. But these days the speed had kicked up again, like she'd boarded a racing carriage.
[I feel it too. My power's grown. It's tied to Gauss—I told you it wasn't your imagination.] Shayde, her shadow, chimed in, sensing her thoughts. [It all started when you joined this team.]
"Is it really because of Gauss?" Shadow wondered. From the start she'd sensed the mystery around him—greater even than her own. The longer they traveled, the more he exceeded her expectations.
She couldn't help glancing at Alia and Serandur. So that's why they defer to him so readily…
"This feels… pretty good, actually."
No one hates getting stronger. She looked at Gauss's back. He had a good temperament; even though she'd kept her shadow power under wraps, he hadn't pressed her. That eerie sense of familiarity made it easier to lower her guard, too.
[Friendly reminder, my lady: you're a temporary member. Once this commission ends, you part ways.] Shayde cut in at the worst time.
"…I know. You don't have to say it."
[Then your priority should be figuring out how to stay. The food's too good here. I don't want to leave.]
"I'm not as mercenary as you."
[So you are leaving?]
"…"
"I didn't say that."
[Then what are we arguing about?]
"I'm staying to solve the mystery around me… yes. That's it," Shadow said, nodding—as if to convince herself.
[Heh.]